The portly cultivator seated behind the desk retrieved a palm-sized jade slip from his own storage bag. He glanced up at Leaf Gray and spoke, "Name, origin, and cultivation level."

Leaf Gray answered each in turn.

The portly cultivator mused, "Leaf Gray of The Profound Sect... Hmm, found it. The record exists!"

Only then did Leaf Gray realize the jade slip in the portly cultivator's hand likely contained information about the mine, including the origins and identities of the slaves. This verification ensured no remnants of The Lunar Blight had infiltrated their ranks.

"However... something's not right!" The portly cultivator narrowed his eyes slightly. "The jade slip records Leaf Gray as an unawakened mortal, yet you've opened one aperture. This doesn't match the information. This is... rather problematic."

As he spoke, his eyes repeatedly darted toward the storage bag at Leaf Gray's waist.

Leaf Gray inwardly laughed. His earlier worries were justified; a mine slave carrying a storage bag was bound to attract unwanted greed.

Had it been according to his initial plan, he wouldn't have minded handing over the pouch—a small price to avoid trouble. After all, he was free now, and the world was vast. Surely, he could find better things in the future.

But now, with Elder Lockridge's earlier casual remark as his foundation, Leaf Gray had nothing to fear. He couldn't let the old man's well-intentioned effort go to waste.

Facing the portly cultivator's skepticism, Leaf Gray stated, "In the tunnels, I encountered an injured Lunar Blight cultivator. I killed him. Between life and death, I awakened my spiritual aperture."

The portly cultivator's eyebrows shot up. If Leaf Gray spoke the truth, that was quite remarkable. A wounded tiger was still a tiger, not something a goat could challenge, let alone kill.

He began to understand where the storage bag at Leaf Gray's waist came from...

Just then, the young cultivator who had brought Leaf Gray leaned in and whispered something into the portly cultivator's ear. The portly cultivator looked astonished. "Which Elder Lockridge?"

The young cultivator remained silent, simply looking at him.

The portly cultivator caught on, cleared his throat lightly, and his expression toward Leaf Gray became considerably more amiable. "So that's how it is. You've got some courage! Well, although your identity is basically confirmed, procedure must be followed. Come with me."

So saying, he stood up.

"Shixiong Sterling, I'll take my leave," the young cultivator said with a fist-and-palm salute.

"Go on, go on," the portly shixiong waved him off.

Following the portly cultivator, Leaf Gray walked toward the area where the large group of mine slaves was gathered.

Once nearby, the portly cultivator placed his hands on his hips, caught his breath for a moment, and then spoke, "Is anyone here from The Profound Sect? Step forward and let me see."

No one responded.

Leaf Gray's gaze swept over the crowd, but he didn't see any familiar faces from The Profound Sect.

The Profound Sect was, after all, a small sect with few disciples to begin with. Many had died when The Lunar Blight overran it a year ago, leaving only twenty or so young survivors.

Over the past year, more had perished, but in Leaf Gray's memory, three to five should have still been alive.

Yet, he saw no sign of those individuals now. He supposed they must have also met with misfortune.

A wave of sadness washed over him. Although he felt little attachment to The Profound Sect, being the sole remaining member of an entire sect made him keenly aware of this world's cruelty.

The portly cultivator spoke again, "Then does anyone recognize him?"

Still, no one replied. Leaf Gray hadn't been particularly popular among the mine slaves.

While everyone else was sallow, thin, and struggling daily for survival, Leaf Gray had lived relatively well, even having excess contribution points to exchange for Vermillion Dawn Pills. Naturally, the other slaves didn't view him favorably.

Shared misfortune didn't always foster solidarity; sometimes, it bred resentment and exclusion.

Leaf Gray spotted the Reed brothers in the crowd. It was surprising they were still alive—tough luck, indeed. But the Reed brothers showed no intention of stepping forward to verify Leaf Gray's identity; they merely watched him with schadenfreude.

The portly cultivator couldn't help but glance at Leaf Gray, suspicion growing. If he truly was a mine slave, someone should be able to vouch for him.

Many others had been verified this way already, through mutual recognition.

"I know him. He is Leaf Gray of The Profound Sect." Just as the portly cultivator's doubts mounted, a timid voice spoke up.

"Who said that?" The portly cultivator's gaze shifted back, searching for the source of the voice.

The crowd parted, revealing the speaker.

Seeing her face, Leaf Gray was somewhat surprised, as he had only met her once, and it had been a long time since he last saw her.

The speaker was a young woman. Compared to the grimy, dust-covered mine slaves around her, her clothes, while not bright, were at least clean and tidy.

The portly cultivator looked at the woman and asked sternly, "You're certain he is Leaf Gray of The Profound Sect? Think carefully before you speak. Lying to me will not end well for you."

The woman shrank back slightly but affirmed firmly, "I am certain."

The portly cultivator nodded and waved a hand at Leaf Gray. "Alright then. Identity cleared. Go wait over there. Don't wander off." After a pause, he added with a wink, "There's an opportunity waiting for you all tomorrow."

Having said that, he turned and left.

Only after he departed did the oppressive atmosphere ease. It was clear these bottom-tier slaves still greatly feared the portly cultivator.

Leaf Gray thought for a moment, then walked towards the woman who had spoken up for him. Approaching her, he said, "Miss, thank you for speaking up."

The woman shook her head. "It's unnecessary. You saved me once. I didn't get to thank you properly then."

She was referring to an incident nearly half a year ago. Leaf Gray had encountered her deep in the mines, being chased by another slave. Unable to stand by, Leaf Gray had intervened and taught the aggressor a lesson.

He hadn't seen her since that day.

Leaf Gray smiled. "Shall we call it even, then?"

The woman also smiled faintly, a hint of vitality returning to her weary face. "Even."

"Let's start over. Leaf Gray of The Profound Sect!"

The woman performed a graceful, practiced curtsy, the bearing of a well-bred lady. "Dawn Fielding, of House Fielding."

Leaf Gray asked curiously, "Miss Dawn, do you know why we've been gathered here? And what was that 'opportunity' the portly fellow mentioned?"

Dawn Fielding reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and explained, "All of us here have clear origins and verified identities. Most haven't awakened, and even those who have possess very low cultivation. The Lunar Blight didn't see us as human, let alone train us. But surely, among our group, some are suitable for cultivation. Now that The Firmament Palace has taken control, they naturally need to make some arrangements. Those among us with the aptitude and potential for cultivation will be taken in by the sects of The Firmament Palace."

"So that's the 'opportunity' he meant," Leaf Gray said, understanding dawning.