The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! -
Chapter 107 - 107 98 Mico's Successful Promotion
107: Chapter 98: Mico’s Successful Promotion 107: Chapter 98: Mico’s Successful Promotion This was a slow job: the making of the badge couldn’t be careless, for every detail specifically marked on the blueprint was there to prevent counterfeiting, and it was these details that further convinced Han that the person who produced the blueprint must be a noble.
Being able to contact a noble was definitely the biggest gain of his journey.
A day’s toil left his back and waist aching.
The blacksmiths walked out, rubbing their shoulders, but no one dared to complain, as they had just heard someone call out for dinner.
Dinner?
Someone was actually providing food after work, but surely it wouldn’t be anything delicious.
Han rubbed his grumbling stomach, deciding to slip into Old Cheli’s bed tonight, believing the other would answer all his questions.
But first, he needed to fill his belly.
The scent that assaulted his nostrils surprised Han.
“Everyone can take up to two pieces of bread!” It was the rattan sticks again.
Those maintaining order had already been given an unflattering nickname – rattan sticks – because they always waved the whistling sticks around and, when idle, would randomly take a few swings at your body.
The dinner was generous.
Roasted bread and soup.
The oil on the surface of the soup was an indicator of how aromatic it must be.
Han made a point to notice that children were given one piece of bread, adults two.
“Everyone eats here!” The rattan stick shook in their hand: “And, no taking from others!”
Their emphasis was a step too late; someone was already stealing.
Two pieces of bread were actually enough to fill one’s stomach – the swell of the roasted bread mixed with the soup would stretch the stomach to full roundness.
But no one could guarantee there would be a next meal, so it was always good to have some extra stored away.
Han’s formidable stature and broad back deterred many, but those with a leaner physique weren’t so fortunate.
Some chose to eat half a piece and then voluntarily turned over the rest of their bread for protection.
Trading a half for the bite of another half satisfied many.
Han ate his bread leisurely, the roasted product of mutated grains.
He had eaten this before, but not often – not out of dislike but because getting mutated grains meant venturing into the Calamity Shadow Region.
Normally everyone avoided it at all costs, so why deliberately get close?
Then Han saw two individuals with small sticks rush out; one of them looked familiar.
Upon closer inspection, it was indeed the father who had been separated from his daughter today.
His face was filled with anguish when he was forced to part from her, but now, armed with a small stick, his expression was one of sheer delight as he swung it.
Such is human nature.
Han watched quietly as they beat the foolish bread thief, then tied him up with a rope, making him an example for some time to come.
Unfortunately, some always think they are the exception, as long as they aren’t caught.
A warning shot only needs one target; even Han thought so, until he saw over forty fools tied up for fighting over others’ food.
Their ages ranged from old to young.
“Every piece of bread must be eaten by the person it’s given to!” The rattan stick wielder swung their arm, people shrinking in fear from a distance: “I don’t care who you are, if you dare to eat bread given by someone else, I guarantee you will throw up as much as you eat!”
Even if it was from a family member, it wasn’t allowed in Prey Town, which didn’t neglect food and drink.
Old Cheli had long known what excuses these people would use to take advantage, so he nipped it in the bud.
If the bread wasn’t yours, then brace yourself.
If you’re beaten to severe injury, if you can’t move tomorrow, then you go hungry.
This scared many.
Before this, they had thought the people in Prey Town were fools for supplying such large amounts of food.
If not fools, then what?
“There’s another advantage to this,” Han mused internally.
He had just glanced around and noticed that, apart from a few somewhat intelligent “leaders,” the vast majority of the hundreds of leaders had been taken out.
He had no idea what Prey Town was going to do.
If it were Han, he would definitely have executed this group of people.
Without leaders, it was the best opportunity to take control.
“Those grains, are they really going to be distributed to those people?
It doesn’t matter if they can’t eat their fill.”
Han overheard some whispering behind him.
He turned his head and saw it was the guards from Prey Town, the cold light gleaming from their crossbows making Han instinctively duck his head to avoid attracting their attention with his gaze.
He didn’t want a bolt aimed at his head followed by an arrow.
“What do you know!
This is the master’s order!”
“Old Cheli, that miser, he didn’t hold back this time?”
“You really don’t understand at all.
How did Old Cheli get to where he is today?
Because he’s tight-fisted?”
“Because he knows the master…
Ah, if we also knew that master, would we have the opportunity to become the town mayor today?”
“You?
Pfft.”
Han was all ears, eavesdropping on the conversation, and he learned that Old Cheli was not the one with the highest authority.
Above him was an Armand, the one who truly held the power of life and death over Prey Town.
Armand was also the one who had implemented the strange policy they were seeing now.
Perhaps Armand was the person Han needed to find.
He gulped down the entire bowl of soup and patted his clothes as he stood up.
It was time to make a plan and meet with the current town mayor, Mr.
Old Cheli, in the evening.
…
…
At Star Dragon Ridge, Miss Mico had finally ingested the last Magic Potion.
She closed her eyes to meditate and waited.
Constantly searching for new knowledge, obtaining new Magic Potion formulas, she had expanded her knowledge base, which also increased the success rate of her potion consumption.
The more Magic Potion formulas she mastered, the higher her chances of success in advancing.
Therefore, success was already destined.
When Mico opened her eyes again, aside from a fleeting, dazzling moonlight that flashed across her vision, no other phenomena occurred.
The absence of phenomena was the best outcome, comforting to her.
Reaching the Upper Rank allowed her to understand many things that had been clogging her mind; ascending in rank was like taking a hammer and violently smashing the wall that was blocking her path.
She was eager to return from the basement to the ground floor, lighting the crucible to start brewing.
Compared to using magic, Mico was more familiar with potion brewing.
To test her progress, the best course of action was to brew potions with the strength of a High-ranking Wizard.
The most direct manifestation of this was in the speed of brewing Magic Potions.
Not only was the speed faster, but she could also multitask, and the potions were more effective with less waste.
If she were to use the method of process of elimination to deduce Magic Potions, she was confident that for potions below the Upper Rank, not too many people would die before she quickly found the answers.
“This way, for every Magic Potion I brew, I can save up for three.”
Looking at the transparent, crystal-clear potions, Mico’s mood improved, and she hummed lightly with a smile.
“Miss Mico!
Bring a few bottles of ‘Fruit Bits Orange,'”
It was that peculiar nickname again, a strange phrase from the Undead.
The more she interacted with them, the more she learned, and she could understand the gist of it.
For instance, they called healing potions “Fruit Bits Orange” and energy potions “the blue ones,” “Move-it.”
If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
Report