Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 764

Chapter 764: Chapter 764

Not only was the curious taxi driver captivated, but beyond the police cordon stood a large crowd. Countless people extended their necks, pointing and chattering excitedly with those around them, speculating about what might have happened inside. At the same time, they craned their necks to glimpse the scene unfolding on the street.

Dragging his battered and bruised body, Yang Fan slowly walked toward the police cordon from one side of the street.

This action quickly caught the attention of countless bystanders.

They apparently thought Yang Fan was just another curious onlooker pushing through despite his injuries. Many trailed behind him, eager for a peek into the truth within the street, their murmurs buzzing like a swarm of flies, fueled by outlandish speculations.

The national obsession with witnessing a spectacle truly never fails to astonish.

Two guards reached out to block Yang Fan’s path, one of them giving him a scrutinizing glance.

"Are you Mr. Fan’s disciple?"

The guard recognized him.

Yang Fan nodded slightly, "I’m here to help."

The guard nodded back, withdrew his extended arm, then curiously asked, "What happened to you?"

"Got roughed up by the nasty thing inside. Almost lost my life to that bastard," Yang Fan replied with a dry chuckle while shaking his head, "You guys carry on, I’ll head in first."

"Brother, take care." The guard waved at Yang Fan as he passed.

Yang Fan nodded in acknowledgment and dragged his battered body through the police cordon.

Behind him, the crowd surged forward chaotically.

"Hey, mind if I ask, who’s that kid? And what did he mean by what he just said?"

An inquisitive auntie stepped up to the guard and asked curiously.

The two guards, rifles cradled in their arms, resumed their grave expressions that brooked no familiarity.

One of them spoke sternly, "Ladies and gentlemen, please leave immediately. This is not a place for you to linger."

"Can’t you at least explain it briefly? If others are allowed to know, then why can’t we? Are we shorter than others or something?" The feisty auntie retorted unhappily.

The guards said nothing more and lowered their hands ominously, resting them firmly on their weapons’ severe frames.

The few elderly onlookers immediately fell silent, sheepishly withdrawing.

What was once a bustling, prosperous street now appeared like a chaotic scene straight out of hell. Scattered everywhere were patches of crimson gore, fragments of body parts, and countless figures lying haphazardly on the ground.

The street reeked of a pungent mix of blood, feces, and lingering food aromas.

This grotesque cocktail of smells overwhelmed Yang Fan’s senses, forcing a wave of nausea into his stomach, threatening to spill out at any moment.

Mr. Fan and a few others stood at the site of Yang Fan’s earlier battle, their faces weighed down with grim expressions as they exchanged words.

Among them was a middle-aged man dressed in work clothes. Today, however, he wasn’t clad in his usual attire but wore a military uniform radiating an air of commanding authority.

The simple swap between work clothes and military garb had transformed the man from a seemingly modest worker to a sharp-eyed, lupine General whose presence was impossible to ignore.

"Mr. Fan, your disciple here has truly done us a great service this time. If it weren’t for his timely actions, the impact would’ve been far worse—perhaps escalating the disaster to an S-level threat that could’ve consumed the entire town," the uniformed man surnamed Lai said with a smile as he looked toward Yang Fan, speaking to Mr. Fan.

"Stop spewing bullshit and give something concrete," Mr. Fan snapped harshly.

The man surnamed Lai chuckled, "Mr. Fan, rewards will certainly come. Please don’t be so eager—and don’t think so poorly of me. I may occasionally have my lapses, but I’m exceptionally reliable during critical moments."

Mr. Fan didn’t reply, merely letting out a dismissive snort.

The uniformed man, unfazed by the rebuff, turned his gaze toward Yang Fan and smiled amiably. "Brother, tell us—how did you discover the incident here?"

How did he discover...?

The memory only brought an irritable fire rising in Yang Fan’s chest.

"How else? Rotten luck, that’s how. I was merely out to collect a debt for a friend. Who could’ve foreseen stumbling into this mess?" Yang Fan said helplessly, "At this rate, I’ll start thinking I’ve offended some damned spirit. One unlucky encounter after another."

The uniformed man took on a serious tone, "Brother, you can’t think of it that way. If you do, how can I justify offering you a reward?"

"A reward?" Yang Fan asked listlessly.

Truth be told, he had little interest in any reward from this ordeal.

Wang Daqiang... it wasn’t clear if he was dead or alive. Any reward would feel like blood money in his hands.

"Anything you want—you can name it," said the uniformed man. "If you didn’t already have a master, with the merits you’ve earned from this encounter alone, you could’ve easily exchanged it for an excellent Cultivation Method."

"He doesn’t need nonsense," Mr. Fan interjected abruptly.

"But if you dare bring anything subpar to fool my disciple and me, I’ll have your head as my football," he warned coldly.

The uniformed man rubbed his neck nervously, laughing, "Mr. Fan, a threat is a threat, but don’t make it so creepy! This fine skull of mine still serves plenty of purpose—I’d hate to toss it away so casually."

"But you know the truth, Mr. Fan. I don’t have much to offer that might satisfy your high standards."

"Stop with the bullshit. Since you’ve brought it up, don’t treat your own words like farting into the wind," Mr. Fan scolded.

The uniformed man chuckled awkwardly, "Alright, alright, you’ve certainly nailed me to the wall this time, Mr. Fan."

Yang Fan was content to let Mr. Fan negotiate on his behalf. After all, he wouldn’t even know what to ask for despite the weight of his contributions. His knowledge of rewards and merits was limited, holding no clear idea about what would match the effort he had poured into this struggle.

At the end of the day, he had risked life and limb—which alone should outweigh superficial offerings.

Even though, at the start, grand notions of heroism or selflessness hadn’t crossed his mind.

The facts, however, would not be denied—they were irrefutable.

Yang Fan’s gaze slowly swept across the street, landing on the crumpled bodies sprawled around. He asked, "Master, these people...?"

They seemed lifeless.

And the scattered remains—the chunks of flesh strewn across the ground—he had no idea who they belonged to.

The bodies had been absolutely shattered, piecing them back together seemed an impossible task.

"Their souls have all been taken," Mr. Fan replied gravely. "The woman who was transformed from the Old locust tree’s Soul Essence claimed some lives before she succumbed. Those people have entirely become extensions of the Tree Demon... They cannot be saved."

"For its final strike, the Tree Demon chose to sacrifice these people—as you’ve seen, scattering them across the entire street."

Lowering his voice slightly, Mr. Fan added, "Among them, Old Wang isn’t there."

Yang Fan quietly exhaled in relief.

That meant Old Wang was merely missing his Soul.

Mr. Fan produced a white candle and a piece of paper, handing them to Yang Fan. "We need to find a way to retrieve these people’s souls, but the events here must remain absolutely confidential. That leaves us with few options—we’ll have to take a different approach."