Chapter 113 :Distinguished Guest

At the entrance of their Peng Zone, which housed several stone buildings, hung a sign reading –Lord’s Supplies,– the name of their faction.

Penglord Jue Zhong Jue was just picking his teeth when he suddenly received a Syn-Link from an esteemed figure, causing a smile to spread across his face:

–Minister Shang.–

{_ How many times have I told you? It’s just a mere town—don’t keep calling me ‘Minister,’ it only invites ridicule. _}

–Of course, of course, Shang—–

{_ Cut the nonsense. I’ve got good news for you. Yang Zicang, from your area known as the Jiazi Term, owns many newly born plots. Find a chance to cozy up to him; he’ll likely build a decent force in the future. Plus, he’s one of Futown Chief Manager Ju Yin Chase’s people—don’t pull any of your petty tricks on him, or the fate of the Wasteland Freight Fleet will be yours to share. _}

The caller gestured to the massive, oil-painting-like realistic artwork and map behind him before swiftly terminating the mental link.

–Wasteland Freight Fleet?–

Jue Zhong Jue paused, his eyes flashing with insight.

–The Wasteland Freight Fleet has already been wiped out. This is a golden chance to seize the wreckage, but I sure as hell wouldn’t stand a chance at grabbing it.–

The brief spark of ambition was quickly smothered. Then, he recalled the painting and map he had just glimpsed.

If I hadn’t seen it wrong, the terrain in that painting contained at least dozens of various different scenes—how could a single place have so many different scenes?

Are those all lands that people carried back there? Just imagine the scale of the work involved.

–Quick, quick, quick, prepare goods for me—I need to go out personally.–

Jue Zhongjue rushed out of the rock room and shouted.

A voice came through: –We’ve just arrived, and you’re already trying to leave?–

The sky suddenly brightened. Above, an eternal curtain of dark gray storm clouds parted, revealing a patch of blue sky.

Penglord and the others outside froze for a moment, turning their gazes toward the opposite side of the courtyard.

There, several figures clad in immaculate suits appeared. At the head of this entourage stood a gray-clad youth, his pursed lips pale, his eyes flickering with golden light, and his dark hair slicked back in a side part.

The air around him shimmered like heat haze, phantom scenes clear yet indistinct constantly rising and fading within those rippling waves.

Jue Zhongjue suddenly felt a nameless weight of pressure, his voice trembling slightly as he forced a smile to ask:

–Good gentlemen, whereabouts might you have come from?–

A figure standing behind the youth, clad in a suit but bearing a face marked like a searing brand, opened his mouth and spoke in a voice rumbling with draconic depth:

–The distinguished guest before you is the renowned executive from the ‘Ilusionscape Corporation: Gu Feng Dreams,’ honored by the title of Master Xiao.–

A waiter on the left interjected:

–At the same time, Mr. Xiao is the ‘editor-in-chief’s’ second pen, the honored editor-in-chief’s index finger.–

Jue Zhongjue was utterly bewildered. He felt that the words –Lingdong Illusion Company– were ethereal and phantom-like, and the term –editor-in-chief– was rapidly clouding over like a hazy memory upon waking from a dream—he soon couldn’t recall whether he had just spoken of –a cook– or –beating on a bamboo board.–

The youth gave a soft smile. In his eyes, a golden radiance swirled slowly. Exuding a fierce and oppressive aura, he spoke slowly:

–Sir Penglord, could you recount for me the most glorious part of your rise to prominence, in your own estimation?–

–I…–

Jue Zhongjue’s mind raced as he pondered the other’s words. Suddenly, he felt himself involuntarily recalling the moment he first arrived in this place.

Jue Zhongjue recounted with a hint of daze, –Back then, I was still a virgin…–

……

Two days later, Robin Lo received a message from the Unique Frequency Inn, indicating that there was already a lead on that A-class Shibin Wastes.

In the dead of night, Yang Zicang and his companion came once more to the Unique Frequency Inn. This time, both of them entered.

–Ding-a-ling.–

The wooden door was pushed open. Spotting two individuals whose builds were ninety percent similar to the legendary one who had wiped out the Wild Cart Cargo Crew, the bartender, visibly stirred, took the initiative to approach them.

He was now certain that this person, who had come to sell intelligence last time, was the particularly fierce second-in-command among those who had destroyed the Great Cargo Crew!

–Two esteemed guests,– the bartender said in a low voice. –Boss Zhuang is upstairs. Please, follow me quickly.–

–Mm-hmm,– Robin Lo nodded with a foolish grin.

With that, the bartender turned and led the way. These two before him looked ordinary, but he dared not take them lightly. According to an exclusive, top-secret piece of intel known only to a few, a certain formidable figure who had taken on the assassination of this man at an inn a few days ago had vanished without a trace after that very night. It wasn’t a case of hiding his identity, for that man’s companions had even posted missing person notices with a hefty reward.

And now, the target of that missing person had appeared flauntingly, which said enough.

After going upstairs, the pair was brought into a suite’s living room. Behind a large desk, the high back of a sturdy black leather boss chair faced the three.

–Boss, the people you wished to see are here.–

A dignified voice sounded from the other side of the chair: –Two of them?–

–Yes.–

–Get out.–

The bartender turned and left, closing the door behind him.

–Still calling me Boss?– Robin Lo muttered as he eyed the chair.

With a rustling sound against the floor, the black leather chair slowly swiveled around to reveal a short, thin man with a comically small mustache.

His gaze swept over Yang ZiCang, then abruptly he climbed atop the large desk and waved the two over, whispering urgently: –Come here, quick.–

–What’s this all about?– Yang ZiCang watched him, slightly exasperated.

Looking like he was about to cry, he fixed his eyes on Yang ZiCang: –Hurry up, hurry up, any later and it’ll be too late—I’ve already been watching you for ten seconds.–

–What’s wrong?–

Yang ZiCang and Robin Lo both stepped forward. Barely over five feet tall, the panicked Boss Zhuang kept staring at the room’s door, only managing to breathe easy after the two had reached him.

–Ah, saved again tonight. At least you two made it to the desk within thirty seconds.–

Robin Lo stared at him, utterly baffled.

–I’m cursed,– Boss Zhuang said gravely. –Only when there are more than two people here can I turn around to face the door. Otherwise, I’ll lose a thousand years’ worth of Chronos.–

–Well, that’s no big deal—just get your employees over.–

–No can do. If the same group shows up three nights in a row, boom, bye-bye Chronos. And I can’t repeat the same group during the curse’s active period.–

–A curse like that actually exists?–

Yang Zicang looked curiously at the owner of the Lonely Frequency Inn, who seemed mentally unstable.

The owner wore an awkward expression.

The Moxel on Robin Lo’s chest flickered; he paused for a moment before turning to the owner: –You liar, you’re not cursed.–

–Oh, does your Moxel distinguish truth from lies too? Well, fine, the effect’s the same either way.–

The owner sat cross-legged on the large desk, suddenly swelling with arrogance, looking especially shameless.

–Seems like letting us get through tonight is the greatest value we offer, huh?– Yang Zicang pulled over a chair and sat down at an angle.

–Haha, good guest, you jest. If you come again tomorrow night, I’ll let you stay for free—excluding supper, of course.–

–So that thousand Chronos mission you mentioned—was that bullshit or for real?–

When the invitation was sent, the Lonely Frequency Inn had informed Robin Lo that there was a task they wanted him to relay to Yang Zicang, with a reward of one thousand Chronos.

–Right, I almost forgot about that.–

Boss Zhuang climbed off the desk and into the office chair, his toes just brushing the floor as he turned to face the table, then pulled several documents from the drawer.

–Hmm, found it. This is it.–

He tossed the papers to the two people at the other end of the desk.

–Picking up the corpse of some unlucky bastard—a thousand Chronos, this is a task he left behind. I haven’t received his Syn-Link in two days, which means this mission’s been activated, and he really managed to get himself killed.–

Robin Lo picked it up, glanced over it, then handed it to Yang ZiCang: –This is probably something only you can handle.–

Then, narrowing his eyes at Boss Zhuang, he said, –So you already knew the location of that A-class anomaly zone.–

Boss Zhuang’s eyebrows drooped, and his eyes darted left and right with a guilty flicker.

–Well, it’s Crimson-level, after all,– he grumbled.

After reading the contents, Yang ZiCang understood why that man had left a thousand Chronos here—to have someone retrieve his corpse in case he met his end.

Because where that man was headed was similar to the places Yang ZiCang had encountered psionic entities before, but even more dangerous.

It was the very A-class descent-frequency anomaly zone he was looking for.

–Was he trying to seek out psionic-type abilities?–

–That’s right.– Boss Zhuang nodded.

Robin Lo stared at him and asked, –Why exactly are you deducted a thousand Chronos every night for something as trivial as standing guard alone?–

Boss Zhuang cast a furtive glance around, snorted, then lowered his voice: –What are you willing to trade for that intel?–

Like hell I’d trade for it, Yang ZiCang scoffed inwardly.

Robin Lo pulled over a chair and sat down.

–The information I sold earlier about Jiazi Term was only a small part. I can trade more to you in exchange.–

Yang ZiCang looked at Robin Lo as if he were insane.

Boss Zhuang glanced at Yang ZiCang, having never seen someone willingly selling information about themselves, and on top of that, the intel was genuine. Must be crazy.

–So you’re Jiazi Term, huh?– he said.

A ring lit up on Yang ZiCang’s chest, the digits visible only to him rapidly decreasing as his appearance shifted from fifty-something to around thirty.

–That’s right, I’m Jiazi Term, the current head of the Major Client Construction Cargo Crew, and I supply Futown Chief on a long-term basis.–

–Wait, Futown Chief!–

The short, skinny boss instantly jumped to his feet on the floor, making his perspective suddenly very low.

–Sorry about that.– He hopped back onto the chair.

–You supply Futown Chief? That guy is the big shot of City Number Twelve, ranked twelfth for three years running.–

Yang ZiCang was eager to learn more about Ju Yin Chase, but he deliberately put on a mysterious air: –Yeah, so what’s the problem?–

–Nothing, nothing.–

Boss Zhuang waved his hand before continuing to ask:

–Which city did you come to Shibin Wastes from? Could it also be City Number Twelve?–

If it were in the past, Yang Zicang might have blurted out all his background without hesitation. But at this moment, he mimicked those two fellows and said:

–What are you planning to trade for this information?–

Boss Zhuang didn’t show a hint of discomfort; he simply lowered his head and began to ponder.

Yang Zicang couldn’t help but think with a hint of surprise, is it really okay to make demands like this? Is this the way intelligence operatives do things?