Chapter 1328: NO. 232: Undoubted Timely Rain

NO. 232: Undoubted Timely Rain

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Any suggestions?"

"No, I'm just curious why you're leaving, but now another question has come up."

"I guess you want to ask what day it is to have so many people?"

"Do we still need to be so roundabout in our conversation?"

"After all, you're not me. As for your question just now, there are two athletes from the Yama Memorial training here."

The lobby in front of the β training ground's gate is currently crowded with a sea of people.

Fans, reporters, and the training ground's security maintaining order together make up this dense crowd at the moment.

Although the entire lobby has been decked out like a can of sardines by them, as long as the person they're waiting for hasn't appeared, this bunch of sardines remains stiffly standing there.

It only makes that uniquely styled security team extra nervous.

This literal crowd of demons, monsters, and aliens obviously feels like they're in a high-end situation, and even those resentful spirits that look like medieval armor are all wearing tight chainmail, quite tense.

Then, when many people noticed the 'child' walking out of the exit together, they subconsciously felt a tightening in their chests—

Yet the child wasn't just muttering to something on their head; they also waved their hand like a chuunibyo sufferer.

That's the perspective of ordinary people, but if you switch to those atypical security guards whose appearance breaks through intimidation, they'll immediately understand this is a signal to them.

Don't act rashly.

They could all recognize who that child was, after all—the β training ground's current staff composition is similar to Rhodes Island, with core employees all being transmigrants from the same hometown, each possessing special skills, and the leader being a mixed-blood walking with the demons.

For them, the boss's iridescent divine aura is still quite evident.

Even if the boss has tried to conceal it, these non-human beings who have long been accustomed to coexisting with deities under the same sky each have their own 'secret method' for survival to this day.

Eyesight is most important, followed by eye signals.

The older the era, the more careful one must be to avoid encountering overwhelmingly powerful beings.

Likewise, the older the era, the more it emphasizes sticking together—while maintaining a strict hierarchy.

No matter the era, or even later human times, non-human lives are hardly called precious; obeying superiors' orders is a uniform and common survival wisdom—let alone when they face Aomo Lindun, who has repeatedly displayed military force outward.

Indeed, even Aomo, who prepares for everything with multiple backups, never imagined such a publicity motive.

But this doesn't prevent his nominal employees from holding him in especial respect.

It's hard to say whether they fear Aomo will slap them to death out of self-projection, or if it's just the pure law of the jungle hierarchy that hasn't sunk in.

It's precisely because of this level of attentiveness that Aomo is recognized on the spot by staff whenever he comes—from the nominal person in charge, Guiye Xiaomei, down to the training ground's gate guardian, the artifact spirit—everyone has the ability to spot Ding Zhen at a glance.

It also gave the boss the thought, 'If I have time, I'll ask about the ultimate breath-concealment technique.'

But looking at this scene now, you know the boss has never had time.

Maybe he has time now, but rather than wondering how many things he has to do, it's better to look at his current state.

"Little one, where are your parents?"

"..."

Silently raising his head to gaze at the suited man before him, who had a pen pinned to his chest and was followed by an automatic final camera, the little Aomo said nothing, turned his head, and walked to the side.

He showed none of the usual politeness he tries to maintain.

"Hey, don't go! Little one, Uncle is worried about you—"

"Sir, could you not bother our child?"

"Huh?"

"..."

The sudden sultry female voice not only made the reporter stare for a moment, but also caused the child who had already walked a few steps to hear it, look up in surprise, and see a huge treasure chest.

In the midst of it, Aomo heard many people swallowing their saliva, even the reporter beside him was no exception.

"...... Ma'am, is this your child?"

Even living in an era of abundant DIY appearance channels with high looks, it doesn't mean that all appearances and figures have become mediocre and no longer attract attention.

The gray-feathered serpent standing here is indeed the most direct example.

Even while continuing to wear that inseparable long-robe exoskeleton, the clothing that should be bulky still cannot hide the voluptuous figure's curves, and the maternal tone in the speech subtly shifts some gazes, yet more people are still examining the appearance difference between this 'mother and child'.

Hair color doesn't match, eye color doesn't match, and the ears that seem like racial traits also don't match.

But since this is in the Federation, it's not particularly suspicious.

After all, many young people add non-human traits like 'elf ears', 'demon horns', or 'fish fin headpieces' to themselves via prosthetics, potions, or genetic customization.

Not to mention the possibility that the husband is human—perhaps this mother, whose charm remains, is herself human, just with a unique aesthetic.

This is the Federation—visual effects aren't that important; to know exactly what ethnicity each person is, you have to check the household registry and verify identity.

"Of course, my child is shy but loves watching horse girls; I brought him here, never expecting him to have the courage to sneak in," the woman said helplessly, her hand reaching out as if to touch the child's head but actually taking the child's palm, smiling indulgently, "If I'm not careful, he disappears, really making me search in a panic."

After saying that, she gently tugged the child's hand: "Let's go, Huomo; the horse girl sisters haven't come out yet, let's go outside for some fresh air."

"... Hmm."

Without lifting his head, the fully withdrawn child simply let her lead him toward the exit, leaving countless gazes behind, yet also proving somewhat hard to shake off.

"What do you want to eat when we go back?" the woman asked the child beside her, unaware of the gazes behind.

"Steak." the child answered straightforwardly.

"Isn't it salted pork elbow?" the woman exclaimed in surprise.

"Only Bavaria does it well," the child explained, his fingers swaying with his steps as they repaired the suddenly broken soundproof barrier, "I don't know when it became known as a Bade specialty, exaggerated though it is."

"Oh, no wonder the shop owner back then was reluctant when I mentioned this dish."

"Bade's skill in desserts far exceeds its main dishes; formerly, much of Europe's culinary responsibility lay in the Falù District, although regrettable, it's a fact—I look forward to its dishes less than to the various cuisines of Dongyan."

"When you go somewhere, you should try the local food, right? Have we almost arrived here?"

At least you still need to go around two more circles before you can barely shake off your charm.

That red-brown short-haired mare-eared little girl has been staring at you; is there some connection?

What's the point of asking when you already know?

Without lifting his head, Aomo really couldn't be bothered to look at this woman who had been gathering information on him.

That smug, wicked smile—you can imagine it even without seeing it.

You have to admit your charm, but according to my investigation, this kid is quite talented; if you don't go along, give her a chance at enlightenment.

Indeed, after all those days, she could still notice herself—that in itself is a manifestation of talent; compared to this sharpness, the talent she displayed in gathering information was enough to make him glance at Huoerhaiya.

Then, limited by height and angle, he could only see the huge treasure chest, and silently withdrew his gaze.

Do you want to take on a disciple?

"No," she answered bluntly, "it's not yet time to worry about the second half of life, and the feathered serpent's inheritance will only choose another feathered serpent."

There are certainly not a few feathered serpents in this world.

But they have no reason to accept the inheritance.

As long as you make them love you enough, that's fine—but do you intend to let that kind of surgery appear here?

Um… I haven't really thought about it since coming here; what do you think?

"Inheritance inherently has its weight, but what is born from that heavy inheritance is often also heavy dross," Aomo said, pausing, then in the fierce wind he repaired the broken soundproof barrier once more, "Discard the old to obtain the new, as history books also say."

Oh my, you actually seem to be trying to convince me, even dragging history into it—are you strongly advising me to sever family tradition?

Aside from your obsession with tradition, I can't imagine why you'd continue that curse in this world; even if it's just for passing on knowledge, there are plenty of excellent substitutes here.

Let me think… this way, I'll just say I'm following the gods' will—would that still earn me a shrine maiden's position?

It seems like you didn't hear a word of that, or you never cared from the start and just wanted to draw out this sentence?

Around that time, the gaze behind him had completely disappeared amidst the successive turns, climbing up, jumping down, wind buffering, teleporting, and continuing to walk; his steps also stopped in front of a long bench.

The boy lifted his head to look at the woman who had also stopped; this time the angle allowed him to see her face.

By the way, shrine maidens are a narrow product of Jidong culture.

But throughout history, religions have always had symbolic women; their circumstances differ, but the meaning is much the same," the woman smiled, "aren't they all servants of the gods?

She released her hand, raised a finger to the wind, swept across the chair surface—vigorous yet steady, leaving no crack on the surface; after doing this chair‑tending service, she then raised her hand to signal the god to sit down.

She added: 'Want a mother's hug?'

At the threshold of the chair surface, 1.2 meters high, she looked at the boy who was 1.5 meters tall and seemed eager to try.

Or perhaps she had been scheming all along.

Aomo hadn't forgotten her initial lunge toward his head, and it was hard to pretend he hadn't noticed her earlier attempt to grab him while they were traveling together.

Too familiar.

She might think this is her first experience, or that her feigned move is perfect.

But the same maneuver, little Aomo had already encountered from Wanshansiji.

Thank you, but I'm not interested.

Saying that, he lightly leapt up and sat down.

Although compared to the horse girl he's far inferior, this version of Aomo still possesses agility that other kids can't match.

Well then, let's get down to business.

As he spoke, he raised his hand, trying to twist his nose bridge, but the other's hand caught and stopped him.

It's not that bad, ~" Huoerhaiya explained the reason.

No need for a pretended meeting; I can only think of it as a sign of resignation—could it also be a huge result that doesn't need to continue?

Why not?

As she spoke, she handed over a tube… of nail polish?

For Aomo, who had frequent night battles recently, even though there were many women around him, he still rarely saw this.

This also made him glance at her plain fingers, as well as the light makeup on her face and the sheen on her lips.

And the long tail scales on her back that couldn't be concealed.

Without a doubt, even if Huoerhaiya had lightly powdered her fingers for work, she avoided them; compared to the initially seen slender, sharp gray‑silver nails, her counterpart now is clean and neat.

Even the scent of shampoo and clothing perfume was likewise dealt with.

And the nail polish that appeared at this time made him hesitate slightly before taking it.

Storage device?

That seems somewhat outdated.

Yeah.

Also, for a transmigrator it might be more fashionable.