Chapter 190: then translation of title

If it weren't for the faint breath still in the opponent's nose and mouth, and if it weren't for the last trace of blood seeping from that horrible wound, Ji Ming would have already become A Zu, treating it as a living corpse and blasting its head on the spot.

Even so, he still calmly used the medicine box as a barrier, placing it between himself and the werewolf.

The werewolf strained to lift its remaining eye, looking at the row of colorful items on the medicine box, the corner of its mouth splitting into an ugly grin.

"Ha, you are still a good pharmacist…… I actually smelled lemon honey tea, not some filthy pus."

Although Ji Ming could now produce a rather abundant 'menu,' how could a wandering pharmacist possibly have anything good?

Like those swindler colleagues of his who like to show off and cheat, most of their medicine bottles contain randomly diluted water, a messy rotten soup.

However, Ji Ming disliked trouble; with his finances relatively loose, he generously just poured various beverages from the roadside stall into them.

He picked out the pale yellow liquid the opponent had smelled, holding it between his fingers and shaking it.

"What, you want to drink it?"

Who would have thought the werewolf would grit its teeth and curse lowly.

"Damn! Who would drink something only a little girl would like?"

"Got any booze? Any kind will do! Give me a sip and I'll tell you my story!"

Ji Ming had no choice but to pick another amber-colored liquid, unscrew the cap, and pour it along the corner of the opponent's mouth, which could no longer close.

The werewolf had lost the ability to suck, so it merely scraped its blood‑stained tongue with difficulty.

"Huh?"

Who would have thought that this sip would cause a flash of cold light to burst from his single eye.

"Ronnie whiskey? You……"

But in the next instant, that eyeball, filled with bloodshot veins, became dim and dull again.

He merely sighed.

"Forget it, doesn't matter, it's all the same; since you want to listen, just treat it as payment for the drink."

Perhaps it was a final burst of clarity, or maybe the strong liquor really could ease pain and refresh; the werewolf's condition improved and it began its narration.

"The elders of the Inner City, my name probably hasn't reached your ears yet; I am Fei'erluo……"

The beastfolk's greatest initial advantage is always base stats; relying on this powerful physique, Fei'erluo was once the strongest enforcer in this district.

Moreover, he was unwilling to remain a petty thug; by collecting protection fees door‑to‑door and winning hearts, he actually built a small gang.

Thus, as the Outer City situation repeatedly broke limits, he who controlled violence not only didn't decline, but grew ever more prosperous.

Furthermore, Fei'erluo neither rested on his laurels nor grew complacent; he consciously adopted a strategy of striking both high and low.

On one side he cultivated good relations with the rapidly declining debt‑collection team, sheltered under their umbrella to launch frequent strikes, suppressing all rivals.

On the other side he threatened and lured citizens from all areas to pay money and grain, continually purged the team, selectively cultivated quality underlings, and raised the squad's standard.

These two clever moves combined, producing an effect greater than the sum of their parts.

Thus his criminal organization grew ever larger, gradually becoming professionalized, corporatized, and loyal.

At this point Fei'erluo consulted various underworld sages, revised the crude gang model, and turned it into a tight‑knit emotional collective organization centered on 'family'.

Moreover, after large‑scale chaos erupted in the nearby districts, he further exerted his innate advantage, keenly sensing the developmental opportunity within.

First he pre‑emptively seized the district's several largest open plazas, turning the ever‑expanding refugee camp into a continuously yielding oil well and recruit camp.

Then he took the lead in establishing venues such as gyms, clubs, and casinos that combined local development advantages, offering high‑quality specialty industries with broad prospects.

With manpower, land, money, and grain all in place, if he further participated actively in regional affairs, he could certainly gradually unify the Outer City's underground network.

By then, even if he couldn't become the Sunshine City's Jin Bing because of the three Inner City powers, wanting to blend in as a wolf‑version penguin lurking in the darkness would be no problem!

Awesome!

The pen tip danced across the paper; Ji Ming, after only three minutes of listening, filled several pages with notes, fearing he'd miss any key point of the other's self‑narration.

Great, I learned a lot!

But when he got to this point, Fei'erluo suddenly stopped.

"Don't stop, brother, we're really getting into it,"

The werewolf panted, blood continually seeping from the corner of its mouth.

"Wait, I've said too much; I need to catch my breath……"

Yet when he had steadied his breathing again, he sighed, full of regret, before saying anything.

"Back then I certainly thought I was handsome—wow, so much money, so many industries, and all kinds of women throwing themselves at me."

"But just as everything was booming, the appearance of one person changed all of this……"

As if recalling something, his sole remaining eye trembled incessantly.

"That was, a mastiff……"

Just as written in every story, when a person's career is on the rise, a few stumbling blocks always pop up.

Fei'erluo thought that with his ability he could kick every stone to pieces and flatten them, but he never expected that the first to have its bones broken would be himself.

It was an ordinary night; the diligent, people‑loving Fei'erluo went to inspect the newly opened businesses in the nearby district.

"Your marketing line has a problem—how come the girls you pick are overly flirtatious, lacking purity, and too heavy with worldly air!"

"Remember, to attract high spenders you can't be so hasty; you must promptly rectify, see the line clearly—got it?"

He gave the timid manager some pointers based on his rich experience, then Fei'erluo left the club with his lackeys.

"Feels so peaceful—no rival gang members on the street, really different from home."

"Isn't this great? Our White Wolf clan now dominates the Outer City, mighty and imposing—who'd dare provoke us?"

"Hehe, I heard Old Henry has a pretty granddaughter; when does the clan chief plan to snag her?"

Expecting a bunch of well‑fed, wise‑time‑entered brawls‑loving toughs to learn to control their mouths is a hard thing.

Thus Fei'erluo, even if he found it somewhat grating to hear, didn't try to stop it, nor did he lightly butt in.

But as he walked into a nearby alley, he suddenly halted his steps.

"Wait……"

"His danger instinct buzzed, making the fur on his back stand up."

"The team, which had been chatting and laughing while sharing their recent battle experience, fell silent all at once."

"What's wrong, chieftain?"

"No, something's up—let's retreat quickly!"

"However, a sudden scream rang out from the darkness, and a quadrupedal monster leapt out of the shadows."

"Fei Er Luo's speed was fast; he dodged the blow, but his lackeys weren't so lucky—failing to dodge, they were pounced on by an unknown enemy and pinned to the ground with its claws."

"The sound of a throat being bitten off was crisp and pleasant, followed by chewing, swallowing, and the splatter of blood."

"Only then did everyone see clearly what creature had attacked them."

"A dog!"

"No."

"It was actually a mastiff‑person so hideous to look at!"

"Dog‑thing!"

"Fei Er Luo glared, eyes wide, about to rush forward and snap his neck."

"But the mastiff‑person's fighting style was extremely strange: his sturdy four limbs were all claws, not to mention his dodging speed was incredibly fast."

"Thus the wolf chieftain had no time to intercept; his lackeys were already strewn dead and wounded, suffering heavy losses."

"You—whose assassin are you!"

"This feeling of helplessness is utterly hateful, yet as someone who can sit firm as the leader of a gang, how could he possibly be an ordinary wolf?"

"Hot blood surged, his limbs and bones bursting forth."

"In an instant, he fell into a wondrous state."

"His agility surged, finally matching the opponent's uncanny speed; he seized the chance and punched his flank."

"But this blow lacked the imagined flesh‑tearing, bone‑breaking effect."

"Instead it felt like striking a lump of raw iron—the opponent wasn't scratched at all, and his hand went numb for three tenths!"

"Still, though it didn't break the defense, the force landed solidly."

"Thus the mastiff's mid‑air movement warped violently, he tumbled to the ground in a sorry state, finally letting Fei Er Luo see his opponent's face clearly."

"Ferocious beast!"

"No."

"Fei Er Luo had certainly hunted ferocious beasts before, so he could tell that although the opponent's eyes were blood‑red, they still retained a glimmer of reason."

"What exactly is this……"

"But before he could think it through, the mastiff opened its mouth and let out a deafening roar."

"Both pupils blood‑red, seeming mad, it erupted with even greater fighting power and aggression than before."

"After years of mixing in the outer city, this is definitely the strongest opponent Fei Er Luo has ever faced."

"Everything he prided himself on was completely overwhelmed by the opponent, and because he had to deal with the relentless onslaught, he didn't even have time to feel disheartened and sigh."

"Moreover, as if toying with him, the mastiff clearly had the power to strike a fatal blow to his weak point, yet it repeatedly attacked only non‑vital spots."

"Thus Fei Er Luo's jaw was torn, his arm pulled apart, and the organs in his belly were pulped to a mess."

"When he awoke again, he lay in a filthy rubbish heap, his inhuman form sprawled amidst the chaos, as if merged into one."

"No one would associate such a beaten‑to‑near‑death vagrant with the invincible Fei Er Luo, so nobody cared whether he lived or died."

"Whether it's good or bad is unknown, but being ignored let him scrape by with his life, rather than being sold as a treasure to his enemies."

"When a strong enemy attacked, he himself was crippled at the outset; Fei Er Luo had wanted to return to his family at once to warn them to beware this foe."

"But after inquiring, he learned that his family had already been usurped by that mastiff‑person……"

"His subordinates were very loyal, extremely loyal, but who would be loyal to a dead man?"

"After the few die‑hards were purged, the rest could only lower their heads."

"Thus Fei Er Luo, having lost any chance to turn things around, ended up in this filthy tent, lying there awaiting death, until today."

"Whether it's longing or unwillingness, Fei Er Luo has always held a breath in his heart, and it is that breath that has kept him alive."

"But now, after telling his whole story, that breath seems to have dissipated."

"He lay limp on the ground, his breath like a gossamer thread."

"Hehe, this is the story of the clown Fei Er Luo—how about it, is this whiskey worth it?"

"Ji Ming stopped his note‑taking pen, closed the medicine box, and squatted down."

"So, what's the name of that incredibly formidable mastiff‑person?"

"And what could you do even if you knew?"

"I'll help you kill him; you help me with something."

"Ji Ming's resolute words earned only Fei Er Luo's low, cold chuckle."

"But even if you could kill him, what could I do for you?"

"My journey has ended; Fei Er Luo stops here……"

"I don't know whether he did it on purpose to anger Ji Ming, or after prolonged torment he truly can't go on."

"The next moment, Fei Er Luo ceased breathing."

"Yet seeing this, the composed Ji Ming also let out a laugh."

"I want you to do something—do you think you can get away?"

"Ji Ming doesn't have much—just enough magic‑power tubes in the underground city pool."

"Because every morning he has Xi Er Wei Ya squeeze him a maximum‑sized magic pouch; even if the volume keeps leaking away by night, it still leaves a fairly large capacity."

Thus a violet light emanated from his palm, and the mud‑like wolf corpse was completely contained within it.

Facing Eleanor's strange gaze, Ji Ming gave a casual explanation.

"This is a blessing from the Divine Lord, always an informant who provides crucial clues; we have to take his corpse."

Eleanor nodded and looked toward both sides of the alley.

Having lingered too long, someone has already noticed this place, but no one dares to step forward to investigate.

"So what should we do next—investigate what kind of being that Mastiff person is?"

"Right, let's set out right now."

Eleanor immediately set off, but when she turned back she saw Ji Ming walking away, his back to her.

"Wait, you went the wrong way, right? This is the exit path."

Ji Ming turned around, looking puzzled.

"Didn't we already get the next clue from him? Can't we just go straight to the person involved?"

"Eh?"

Eleanor hurried over.

"You're being way too reckless; what if…"

"Yeah, indeed, we definitely can't just go like that; it'd be too unprofessional."

He pulled out his long‑absent Mysterious Merchant mask, and Ji Ming tapped the engraved question‑mark on it with his knuckle.

"Put this thing on, and they'll have no idea who I am."

"I'm not discussing this with you!"

Eleanor continued to persuade.

"Don't act rashly; even though you're the Chosen of the Gods, your actual profession is pharmacist, which is a support class."

"As for me, being from the Academy faction, even though I have some confidence in my combat ability, a mage still needs a stable output environment to be effective."

"The Mastiff excels in speed and has decent stamina; if we just charge through, it could cause trouble!"

"You're a mage?"

Ji Ming only then realized and glanced at her panel.

Fireball, Ice Arrow, Earth Shield, Flame Burst… tsk, this skill combo is way too ordinary; it feels weaker than AdaiEr's… violent output.

At this level, placed in a party they'd just be pure dead weight, and the damage‑soak would have to be positioned after Aurora.

Nevertheless Ji Ming still didn't retreat; after all, according to Ferlo's description, that Mastiff person was clearly "bizarre."

Using this thing on oneself isn't just a dimensional‑reduction strike; it could also be called Wind‑Spirit Moon‑Shadow—any more cowardice would be indefensible.

He winced in anguish and asked in a low voice.

"Priest Eleanor, do you still have any self‑awareness as a devotee of the divine?"