Chapter 271: Compensate. What Do You Want?

"Go back, go back, where are you going? Turn around and let me see the statue." Negrilis cried out in desperation.

The size of this Saviors' Goddess statue exceeded Negrilis's imagination—it was so vast that he couldn't see it all at once; he saw the hand but not the face, saw the face but not the waist, saw the waist but lost sight of the hand again.

True, this was the seabed, and the massive amount of water limited his vision, but the statue was still far too large—he urgently wanted Ange to move closer to it so he could see more clearly.

But Ange ignored his request and turned toward the side and rear of the statue.

With Ange's soul strength, his field of vision was far broader than Negrilis's, and he saw far more—he had already clearly seen what was there.

But only one thing could capture his attention, making him ignore Negrilis entirely.

"Of course, Kuba Da, as soon as you see a field, you can't move—an underwater field?!" Negrilis blurted out when he finally saw the spot.

It was a vast, clearly planned and cultivated seabed plain, designated as a "field," its ridges and furrows replaced by stone pits spaced every three to four meters.

The seabed plain had been dug into a series of pits roughly one meter in diameter, each spaced three to four meters apart, arranged in straight, orderly rows extending beyond Negrilis's sight.

Each pit was filled with fist-sized stones, clearly different in texture from the surrounding plain—the plain was fertile seabed mud, but these pits were packed with crushed stone, unmistakably transported from elsewhere.

Most of the stone pits were empty; only a scattered few dozen contained fragments of long seaweed growing between the stones.

The seaweed resembled grapes—translucent, water-rich, each bead connected in a string, the longest reaching dozens of meters, swaying with the current.

The seaweed grew from within the stones, its roots extending from the stones, entwining around them, then sinking into the surrounding mud.

Negrilis instantly recognized the advantage: the roots anchored to the stones, preventing them from being easily swept away by currents, allowing the seaweed to grow longer.

If rooted directly in the mud, after growing a few meters, a current could uproot it and carry it off.

The gaps between the stones also provided space for root expansion, maximizing contact with the fertile soil.

This was certainly not natural—it had been painstakingly cultivated by someone to grow seaweed, so it was indeed a "field."

"Can you grow things underwater? Who cultivated these fields? Why are there only a few scattered strands, not fully planted?" Negrilis was full of questions.

Ange was no longer as furious as before; hearing Negrilis's question, he said: "Field. Seafield."

"Yes, field—what are you grinning about? It's not your field," Negrilis snapped.

Only a field or planting could pull Ange out of his rage.

"Learn. Plant myself," Ange said, darting forward to one of the seaweed strands, studying it briefly, then tapping it with his finger.

Under the speed-death aura's acceleration, the spot where his finger touched began to wither, snap, and the severed piece drifted away with the current.

"No seeds?" Negrilis said. Having spent so much time with Ange, he was now half a gardening expert himself.

Ange pulled off a segment, dragged it to the seabed, jammed it into the mud, and tapped it again.

The seaweed rapidly sprouted roots, sinking into the mud, growing at an accelerated pace.

But after a while, perhaps due to insufficient nutrients, it withered—yet this confirmed that the seaweed could be propagated by cuttings.

Ange then became unceremonious—he plucked all the scattered dozens of seaweed strands nearby, cut them into segments, and stored them in the Palace of Rest, then casually dug a pond, filled it with water, and soaked them.

Negrilis glanced around nervously and said: "Ange, this isn't right—these are clearly someone else's crops. You've taken them all—what will they do?"

"Compensate," Ange said.

That was a valid solution—but what if they wanted seaweed, not money? Still, you could compensate—Ange's speed meant he could grow a whole new field of seaweed for them in three hours.

Forget it—compensate. But how much?

Ange didn't care. Even if Harvey came to chop him down right now, he'd finish harvesting first—he was happily digging when suddenly he sensed a faint aura creeping slowly through the mud toward his position.

The current masked its movement, elements dulled its aura, darkness concealed its form—it crept like a chameleon octopus hunting on the seabed.

Of course, such subtle actions couldn't hide from Ange's senses—but since the aura posed no threat, he didn't expose it, merely tilted his head and watched its slow approach.

To remain hidden, the creature kept its eyes shut, fearing even a glance or aura might alarm its target; it moved blindly in the general direction, inching forward, inching forward, until it estimated it was close enough, then cautiously lifted its head and cracked open one eyelid.

The moment it opened its eye, it was startled into a frantic leap—because right before it were two hollow eye sockets, silently staring.

Caught?! The creature in the mud leapt up, revealing a metal short rod it had been hiding beneath its body, swinging it toward Ange.

But Ange moved faster—he snatched the rod from its grasp; its two hands swung through empty air before him.

Weaponless, it panicked and shouted: "Give it back! You thief! Return the Starfall Staff!"

Normally, speech was impossible underwater—but strangely, what it spat from its mouth wasn't air, but a stream of water, spreading like sound waves, allowing Ange to clearly hear its voice.

Perhaps it should be "she," not "it"—the creature attacking Ange was a humanoid being, identical in appearance to a human: long, flowing hair, delicate features, tall and voluptuous, even quite beautiful.

Of course, that was from Negrilis's perspective—Ange couldn't judge human beauty.

Minor differences revealed it wasn't human: its scaled skin, webbed toes, vertical pupils—this was a humanoid being with marine biological traits.

Starfall Staff? Ange glanced at the short rod in his hand—it was just a rusty iron stick. Why call it a Starfall Staff?

Ange returned it to her.

She snatched the rod again, swung it toward Ange—but as soon as she raised it, Ange snatched it away once more.

"Give it back, you thief!"

Ange returned it to her.

She swung again, he took it again; after two or three rounds, she finally realized she was no match for this pile of bones. When she grabbed the rod again, she burst into tears:

"You're stealing our entire tribe's food—we'll starve! You thief, stop stealing our food! Eat me instead—I taste good!"

As she sobbed with her neck tilted upward, high-frequency sound waves poured from her mouth, vibrating the water before her, generating countless bubbles that surged upward with a gurgling sound.

Negrilis wanted to laugh—this scene of a head bubbling frantically was absurd—but he dared not; Ange had stolen the entire tribe's food supply, and laughing would be inhumane…

Forget it—I'm not human anyway. Why care about humanity? Hahaha…

"Compensate. What do you want?" Ange's voice directly entered the female sea-being's mind.

This female sea-being was clearly the owner of these seaweed crops. Ange had been patient only because he intended to compensate fairly—otherwise, he'd have shattered her skull long ago.

PS: This chapter is yesterday's. Today's is still being written.