Chapter 167

The Negrilis projected onto Ang stared at the one-eyed soldier's single eye and muttered: "Don't you dare cause trouble, or I'll tear down the city gate and smash your other eyeball too. You shouldn't have brought the little angel—it's even more conspicuous than me. You should've stuffed it in too."

Negrilis had long said the little angel was too cute—pale and soft, unmistakably noble. If it went out without at least four white horses pulling its carriage, it wouldn't suit its image.

But it didn't matter—the little angel refused, so Ang didn't force it. Look, trouble now?

Just as the one-eyed soldier's grimy hand was about to raise, a thunderous roar echoed: "Miss!"

Then came the ground-shaking stomping of a bullwoman at least twice the mass of the bullwoman aunt, thundering over to the little angel's side. Her belly quivered, shoving the one-eyed soldier aside:

"Miss! You're safe! Thank the Light! We've finally found you! The Viscount will be overjoyed. I'm the cook, Vanya the Cook—do you remember me?"

After speaking, the bullwoman turned, her bull eyes glaring, bellowing: "How dare you use your filthy hands on our Viscount's Miss!?"

The one-eyed soldier shrank back, waving his hands frantically: "No no, don't make things up!"

"Hmph, I knew you wouldn't dare. Miss, let's go." She took the little angel's hand.

Probably because it had spent too long around the bullwoman aunt in the Lich City, the little angel, unusually, allowed Vanya to lead it toward the gate.

Negrilis sighed in relief, urging Ang to hurry after them. Not far along, they heard a startled cry behind them. Turning back, they saw the one-eyed soldier clutching his crotch, his pants soaked.

Soon after, sensing Luo Ge's return, Negrilis hurriedly asked: "What did you do?"

Luo Ge replied coolly: "Just cut one tube that lets him… well, you know."

At the city gate, a pillar emitted red light. Everyone entering passed through the red glow.

Negrilis murmured: "True Eye Light. So this is the real inspection method. I knew slapping and patting couldn't detect bugs. What if an egg incubator slipped in? Hey, can you hide from True Eye Light?"

Luo Ge answered: "Can't hide. Looks like I'll have to stay outside. You and the Master be careful."

In another city, Luo Ge could sneak in elsewhere—but this city had activated its shield. Even as smoke, he couldn't enter.

"Heh, you should make this city nervous. Sigh, just don't tear it down." The Purple Bone Titan rested inside the Palace of Rest, along with Patexi the Guardian God, plus Ultimate Transformation. Whether turned into Bone-Lock or Dragon God, either could shatter the shield.

Each person passing the red light triggered a soft *beep*. When it was Ang's turn, the pillar beeped too—but the mage behind it poked his head out, studying Ang intently.

Seeing nothing unusual, the mage pulled back. Then, spotting something, he poked his head out again, glanced once more, and finally waved Ang through.

A companion couldn't help asking: "What happened?"

"Nothing. Just this man's bones are much clearer than others—like he has no flesh or skin." True Eye Light pierced flesh to reveal bone. Under its gaze, everyone was just a skeleton.

"Ah, maybe he's just too thin. I thought you spotted a bug. Don't overreact—it's scary."

Ang's group entered the city without incident. Vanya released the little angel's hand, ruffled its head, and boomed: "Alright, little sister, you're safe now. Go find your family. Watch out—there are plenty of bad people. I'm off. Bye."

With that, Vanya waved cheerfully and turned away.

Negrilis suddenly realized: "So she's just a kind-hearted bullwoman. I thought the little angel mistook her for some Viscount's daughter."

After sighing, it noticed no one responded. It sighed heavily, muttering: "Alright, we're here. First, deliver the grain. Anthony bought a thousand tons for the Andong Knights. Kua Bada—that name? Definitely his private army. Let's find the Andong Knights first. After delivering the grain, we'll claim the Hammer bounty."

At the Andong Knights' encampment, Andong scratched his thinning hair, sat down, stood up, paced a few steps, sat again—restless.

The knights were out of food. When they set out, they never expected a bug plague. They brought little food. Here, they were guest troops—no official roster, no food supply.

They begged at the door—got two words: "No grain."

No budget meant no obligation. Andong planned to break out. His force: four hundred men, five hundred horses. Men could skip a meal or two. Horses couldn't skip one.

Then, contacting the boss, he was told: "Wait. I'll deliver grain tomorrow."

He nearly cursed. I believe your ghost? Tomorrow?

The nearest grain depot was three days away. Even flying couldn't carry enough grain for four hundred men and five hundred horses. And the roads? Swarming with insects. The grain might end up in their mouths.

Even using space items at great cost? Hard to fit so much. He'd seen space artifacts—he owned one. A one-cubic-meter artifact was already high-end.

Unless they dropped the shield and used a teleport array, Andong couldn't imagine how to deliver enough food for men and horses by tomorrow… which was now.

If no grain came today, tomorrow their men and horses would be too weak to break out. Each hour of delay raised the odds of failure. Should he trust that unreliable boss? If the grain didn't arrive on time, they'd all die.

A subordinate entered with a strange expression: "Uh, Master, someone's here to see you."

"Who?! Did they bring much?" Andong leapt up.

"Not much. Just three people. One's a little girl—empty-handed, nothing at all." The subordinate said.

Andong deflated: "Turn them away. What's the time for social calls? With a little girl? Definitely not here for grain."

"But he says the Big Boss sent him."

At "Big Boss," Andong shot out like an arrow.

Ang came only to deliver grain. He ignored Andong's indirect probing. After verifying identity, he asked for a warehouse.

Andong sucked in a breath. Empty-handed? Ask for a warehouse? Can you conjure grain?

Andong instantly thought of the teleport array. He couldn't help warning: "The shield's up—can't teleport, right?"

Ang tilted his head, puzzled. He walked into the warehouse. Soon came out: "Done."

Andong rushed in—and saw stacks of grain bags, over a thousand tons. No matter how he did it, this ability surpassed Andong's understanding.

A big shot. Must befriend him. Andong dashed out—but saw only Ang's retreating back.

He opened his mouth, but the words of introduction stuck. All he managed: "Uh… no receipt?"

No one answered. The group walked swiftly away.

"Next task: the Earth Holy Hammer bounty. First, find the Mercenary Guild. Usually near the market gate, next to the slave market. Wherever there's a crowd, there's the guild." Negrilis spoke with confidence.

Reality slapped it down. Because of the bug plague, refugees flooded the city. Everywhere, people. Only by asking did they find the guild's location.

But when they arrived, under the large sign, a crowd sat or lay sprawled, blocking the entrance and hall. Seeing newcomers, they surged forward.

"Boss! Boss! Need workers? Herding sheep, tending horses, nailing horseshoes—I'm good at everything!"

"Boss, look at me! Professional mercenary, Intermediate Swordsman. Bodyguard, brawler—I'm skilled. Hire me!"

"Here! Here! Beauty and hairdressing, grooming and eyebrow trimming!"

"Cook! Cook! Special-grade Bullwoman Cook! Carrying sacks, milking, repairing roofs, bodyguarding, brawling, beauty services—I do it all. Hire me, I'm worth three!" A louder voice drowned out the rest.

Hearing that familiar booming voice, the little angel, hidden behind the crowd, leapt up, waved at Vanya.

"Huh? It's you, little sister?" Vanya waved her massive hand, shoving aside the Intermediate Swordsman and hairdressers alike, clearing a path. Racial advantage sometimes needed endless effort to match.

"Ow!" the little angel replied.

"Moo? You speak Bullish?" Vanya was stunned.

"Aow aow!" The little angel shook its head.

"Moo moo? What tribe's dialect is that? I don't understand." Vanya was baffled.

Negrilis was frantic. If they kept chatting like this, they'd talk till tomorrow. Asking Ang to relay its words was a mess—Ang wasn't cut out as a mouthpiece.

Unable to hold back, it spoke itself: "Aren't you the Viscount's cook? Why are you here looking for work?"

Negrilis's voice came from Ang's body. Vanya turned, puzzled—she heard the voice but saw no lips move. Strange.

But these days, stranger things happened. Ang's case? Probably ventriloquism. Nothing unusual. She just realized: "You were there earlier? You're the little sister's family?"

"Yes. We didn't get to thank you yet." Negrilis said.

"No need. Bullpeople are the most generous. Just a little thing." Vanya patted her broad chest, her thick fat rippling in waves.

The shoved-aside swordsman, hairdresser, and shepherd weren't pleased. They cursed: "Generous? You stole our lines!"

Vanya turned her bull eyes on them. Instant silence.

"By the way, little sister, why are you here? Looking for work?"

"We're here for the Mercenary Guild. To claim a bounty. What's going on?" Negrilis asked.

The swordsman mercenary turned: "Ran off! The guild's boss took everyone's bounty and fled! Bastard! All mercenaries in the world will hunt him down!"

Vanya nodded: "Exactly. Now everyone's unemployed."

"And you? You said you're the Viscount's cook."

"Speaking of that makes me furious! My Viscount doesn't pay me a cent. He spends all day at home brewing insecticide. Now he makes me work outside to feed him. I'm furious!"

After explanation, Negrilis understood the situation.

Vanya was the Viscount's cook, since her great-grandmother's time. But compared to her great-grandmother's era, the current Viscount's family had fallen. Only the title remained—he was nearly starving.

The current Viscount was an alchemist, obsessed with inventing secret potions. He studied endlessly—but none were sellable. No income. He sold off belongings and servants regularly.

During the bug plague, he dreamed up a bug-killing insecticide. He spent every last coin on materials. Even food was gone.

Everything sellable was sold. Even servants. But he couldn't sell Vanya—she wasn't a servant. She was paid.

But after years together, she saw him as family. She couldn't let him starve. If she abandoned him, this Viscount—who couldn't even cook or farm, who knew only potions—would truly die.

So what to do? Go work. The Viscount's cook had to leave home, laboring to feed the useless Viscount who refused to pay her.

"That's… too tragic." Negrilis sympathized. Though Ang never paid it, it didn't have to work to feed Ang. Compared to this, it wasn't the worst off?

At that moment, Vanya's stomach rumbled like thunder.

Vanya grinned awkwardly, tightened her belt.

"Uh… haven't eaten in a while?"

"Didn't eat yesterday. But no problem—I've got plenty of fat. Can last days. Consider it dieting." Vanya shrugged cheerfully, then her expression darkened: "I wonder if the Viscount ate. He has no fat. Don't let him faint. He says he's inventing an insecticide—bugs eat it, don't die right away, but when they return to the nest and touch others, it spreads. Then they all get sick and die together. I hope he finishes it. Let the plague end."

Negrilis had planned to ask Ang for food. But now its eyes lit up: "An insecticide like that? Spreads among bugs? That's a brilliant idea. We need to visit your Viscount."

Suddenly, a streak of fire slashed across the sky, plummeting and slamming into the shield—exploding in sparks.

"Huh? Seventh-level Fire Meteor? But this is a bug plague. Why fire magic? Are mages mixing with bug hunters?" Negrilis exclaimed.

"Huh? A Level Seven Firefall Meteor isn't a bug plague—why is there fire magic? Did a mage team up with an insect controller?" Nageleis said in surprise.