The Two Moons Empire had developed the manipulation of mental energy to its absolute zenith; the art of changing one's appearance, commonplace even among lesser races, was naturally far more ordinary within the True Human Empire.

Yang Ying’s sudden alteration of his visage and stature caused a flicker of surprise in the middle-aged man and Little Bogen, but it was only momentary; they quickly recovered their composure.

Little Bogen pursed his lips. "Finished? The second one is coming up."

Saying this, he tapped the virtual keyboard again. "Coffin." The machine scanned a holographic full-body image of Yang Ying once more. Beyond capturing the likeness, this scan ingested fingerprints, iris patterns, blood type, and other data into the central database, all of which would then be integrated into the identity card.

After this scan concluded, Yang Ying manifested a third appearance and had the machine scan it again.

%, Wan

By this time, the middle-aged bar owner was absolutely certain that Yang Ying was a supremely skilled Level Three master. Altering one's appearance through pure mental force seemed simple, yet it was an incredibly delicate endeavor, requiring micro-manipulation of the skeletal structure, nerves, and muscle fibers simultaneously—a task far more difficult than casting an illusion. Yang Ying had changed his entire look in the span of a single breath, his face turning faster than the pages of a book; a mere Level Two expert could never achieve such effortless transformation.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man felt a wave of relief, thinking, Good thing I didn't do anything disrespectful. I just hope this master finishes the transaction quickly and doesn't cause any further trouble.

After the third scan was complete, Little Bogen frantically hammered the virtual keyboard dozens of times, then extracted three glass-like cards from a slot on the "Coffin." Tipsy with alcohol, he waved them around ostentatiously. "We have a backdoor with our friends in the Civil Administration Bureau. These three ID cards are already registered in the civil system, and the personal accounts are activated. They're truer than true. Not to brag, but the Empire Security Bureau uses my exact process when fabricating identities. No one can tell the difference if they take them out."

"Good, good, I know your capabilities," the middle-aged man said, accepting the three cards. He then pulled a thick, leatherette pouch from his coat pocket and presented it to Yang Ying along with the cards. "Guest, here is what you requested." He opened his other hand, clearly intending an exchange: money for goods.

Yang Ying handed the small paper packet containing the Gulou Grass to the middle-aged man while taking the three ID cards and the leatherette pouch. He first opened the pouch to count the cash, confirming the agreed-upon two thousand Imperial Credits. Then, his gaze shifted to the three identity cards.

Yang Ying did not believe Little Bogen’s boast about the Imperial Security Bureau. Lanston had worked for the Bureau for a time, even holding a position there when her incident occurred eight years ago. Her experience gave her comprehensive knowledge regarding the forging and identification of documents, expertise that Yang Ying had also acquired under her tutelage.

While Little Bogen’s procedure for creating genuine identity cards mirrored that of the Security Bureau, the Bureau's work was far more thorough. Fabricated identities they created were seamless across all aspects: birth records, academic history, medical files, bank accounts, social circles, and character references. Such forgeries truly were "truer than true." Could a local in a remote place like Hongyun Star possibly achieve that level of detail?

Yet, it was fortunate this was a backwater location. In the Empire's developed sectors, securing counterfeit identity cards would likely be impossible. Those who managed to establish themselves there were typically large criminal syndicates with immense power and deep backgrounds; even establishing contact with them could lead to endless complications.

Yang Ying turned the ID cards over and over, scrutinizing every detail, the identification methods Professor Lanston had taught him surfacing one by one in his mind. After examining the exterior, he lightly brushed the surface of a card. A palm-sized holographic screen instantly appeared, displaying one of the three figures Yang Ying had just manifested.

Yang Ying then touched the head, chest, and abdomen of the holographic projection with his finger. The image suddenly twisted; the camouflage particles composing the hologram disintegrated, reforming into numbers the size of a grain of rice. The original portrait hadn't vanished but had morphed into a figure constructed entirely of these digits.

The numbers flowed and shifted continuously, easily leading an observer to mistake them for meaningless streams of data. In reality, these numbers represented a unique form of encoding. The rules governing this code were intricate and variable, known only to the Imperial authorities.

To an expert familiar with the coding rules, these characters were the cardholder’s information. Normally, specific instruments were required to decode this information back into readable data. However, masters at Level Three and above could read these codes directly using the innate computational power of their own brains.

If the decoded information failed to match the established data, the identity card was counterfeit.

Little Bogen, witnessing Yang Ying's actions, immediately realized the buyer was an expert who could not be fooled. A wry smile touched his lips, though he remained confident in his manufactured cards; apart from lacking comprehensive background history, these three cards were genuine physical identity cards.

After scrutinizing the three cards from every angle, Yang Ying gave a slight nod, signaling his satisfaction.

The middle-aged man had finished examining the Gulou Grass. Seeing Yang Ying nod, he beamed with feigned enthusiasm. "It's good that the guest is satisfied. Is there anything else I can do for you?" While his words dripped with eagerness, his heart was set on seeing Yang Ying depart as quickly and as far away as possible.

Yang Ying was fully aware of the middle-aged man's shift in sentiment but chose not to expose it. "There is nothing you need to do for me, but remember this: after today, we don't know each other."

"Certainly, certainly!" the middle-aged man agreed repeatedly, gesturing toward the exit. "Please, take care." He sighed inwardly with relief, finally seeing the plague god off.

Yang Ying did not travel far after leaving the bar. Instead, he moved into an inconspicuous alley nearby, cloaked himself, and doubled back. He was not entirely convinced the middle-aged man would maintain secrecy.

He had noticed earlier that the secret room behind the bar was not simple; an invisible energy barrier sealed the chamber tightly. One could enter, but mental energy could not penetrate it. If not for this barrier, given his cultivation level, he could have spied on every action inside from kilometers away, negating the need for such a cumbersome return trip.

Arriving at the entrance to the secret chamber, he saw the door was shut tight, connected to an alarm system. Opening it improperly would inevitably trigger the bell.

Yang Ying scanned the surroundings, ensuring no one was observing. He pulled a mechanical mosquito from his pocket and fed it through the ventilation shaft. Then, he donned a pair of tactical goggles—standard equipment for Ghost Agents, now evolved to the fifth generation, boasting even more comprehensive and powerful functions.

Soon, the screen displayed the interior of the chamber, and the earpiece transmitted the sounds within.

Inside, the middle-aged man and Little Bogen had not dispersed; they were discussing the recent encounter.

Little Bogen had sobered up considerably. "Boss, that person wasn't simple. I've only seen that trick of reading internal information directly from the codes on a very few individuals. He understands the encoding rules and is clearly familiar with documentation; he probably deals with genuine and forged documents often."

The middle-aged man held up a hand, stopping him. "You think I don't know? If he isn't with the Imperial government, then he’s an assassin, a corporate spy, a bounty hunter, or something even worse. Heh... why would a dignified Level Three master need identity cards?"

Little Bogen swallowed hard and said cautiously, "Boss, should we take precautions? If he uses the IDs we made to commit some major crime and gets caught, and we get implicated—that would be disastrous."

The middle-aged man frowned. "Indeed. Having such a powerful individual come to our turf, we can't afford to be complacent." He paced the room a few times, then a sudden thought struck him. "Alright, go tell Mossa at the Civil Administration Bureau—no, wait, that won't do." The man's brow furrowed deeper. "The people at Civil Administration aren't reliable. Better to go straight to Chief Tian Mo."

Little Bogen slapped his head. "Chief Tian Mo? The one we send monthly payments to?"

"That's him," the middle-aged man nodded. "You have the data copies for those three ID cards, right? Take them to Chief Tian Mo and tell him a seasoned Level Three master has arrived in the city. He'll make the sensible arrangements. That way, if anything goes wrong, we can wash our hands of it, and we’ll give Tian Mo a chance to earn merit, bringing him closer to us. It kills two birds with one stone."

Little Bogen cheered up instantly. "As expected of the Boss, coming up with a solution so quickly!"

Listening outside the door, Yang Ying let out a cold snort. These two men were indeed untrustworthy, treating their word as wind. Before he had even gotten far, they were already plotting to betray him.

If word of these three identity cards reached the Imperial Police, they would be rendered useless, and his ability to operate within the Empire would be severely compromised.

With that thought, Yang Ying pointed his finger. A thin bolt of lightning struck the door access system beside the secret room door. With a crisp snap, the circuit board immediately spat out a few electrical sparks.

This method of forceful entry was also taught by Lanston; it was foolproof against simple doors like this one.

Inside, the middle-aged man and Little Bogen believed their conversation had gone unnoticed. They never expected the door to hiss open. Little Bogen, being an ordinary man, was merely startled, but the middle-aged man, a Level Two Awakened, felt an intense wave of crisis wash over his consciousness.

After a moment of thought, he instantly guessed what had happened. Someone capable of sneaking up to the door undetected and resorting to forceful entry—in recent memory, there was only one candidate: the mysterious person who had just left.

The middle-aged man now clearly grasped the magnitude of his error; a cold dread flooded him, and he cried out involuntarily, "Bad! That person has returned!" Should you wish to know what happens next, please log on to [website address] for more chapters, support the author, and enjoy legitimate reading!