Chapter 129: Walking into the Tiger’s Mouth
Roman Rowe thought he’d gone upstairs to sleep because he was upset, but when he pushed the door open, he found him cultivating. A frigid chill filled the entire room.
He rubbed his arms, his teeth chattering from the cold. As he got closer, he realized the man had entered a deep state of meditation.
This was a rare state for cultivation. The longer one remained in it, the greater the qualitative leap in power upon emerging.
Roman Rowe didn’t dare disturb him. Hugging himself for warmth, he backed out, gently closed the door, and then cheerfully trotted off to eat.
Lily Hart glanced behind him, and not seeing the familiar figure, she asked, "Where’s Frost Shaw? Isn’t he coming to eat?"
"He’s cultivating. Grinding away in broad daylight, the nerve!" Roman Rowe said dismissively, picking up his bowl and chopsticks and waving a hand.
Leo Colby, who was in the middle of eating, paused. ’It’s been a while since I’ve cultivated seriously, hasn’t it...’
’This is so wrong. Wasting my days eating, drinking, and having fun. Is this what a superpower user should be doing?!’
’But this way is so much more fun...’ Leo Colby pushed the thought aside and went back to his meal.
After all, nothing’s more important than a good meal.
After finishing his meal, Leo Colby returned to the hotel and quietly began to cultivate as well, though he maintained a lighter state that allowed him to stop at any moment to tend to customers.
...
In the industrial zone, the Zombie King remained seated in its large executive chair, gazing down at the sparse gathering of fewer than ten High-level Zombies at the foot of the platform.
It sank into deep thought. It hadn’t expected the losses from this operation to be so devastating. Making a comeback anytime soon would be difficult.
Gathering so many low-level zombies again would take time, and High-level Zombies would need to be cultivated and recruited.
But it didn’t want to wait. The memory of that crisp, crunchy texture was unforgettable; it was still craving it.
More importantly, something about that human female seemed to make its wounds heal faster.
Its cultivation had even shown significant improvement. It had been stuck at the Eighth Rank for far too long, but yesterday, it had felt its bottleneck start to give way.
It had been able to faintly grasp the threshold of the Ninth Rank, providing a stepping stone to advance.
At this thought, the Zombie King grew excited. Who wouldn’t want to possess immense cultivation, to be able to look down on every being in the world!
It had come to a realization: no matter how many low-level zombies it had, they were useless—nothing more than cannon fodder, wiped out in an instant.
What it needed were High-level Zombies, capable of tying up those few High-level Superpower Users. Dealing with them was the top priority!
The Zombie King propped its chin on one hand, mentally calculating how to devour Lily Hart whole and unharmed...
Just then, a High-level Zombie stepped forward, leaned close to its ear, and muttered for a long while.
The longer it listened, the brighter the Zombie King’s scarlet pupils glowed, so intensely it seemed they might drip blood. A single glance felt sharp enough to wound.
"Is that true?" the Zombie King asked, looking at the zombie for confirmation.
The High-level Zombie nodded emphatically, gurgling in the zombie tongue that it was absolutely true. It wouldn’t dare lie to its boss, unless it had a death wish.
"Good. The rest of you, come here." The Zombie King had always trusted its subordinates and immediately summoned its remaining seven High-level Zombies.
The group of zombies huddled together, plotting something with feverish excitement.
...
After the heavy morning rain, the sky was scrubbed clean, a boundless expanse of blue that brightened one’s mood just by looking at it.
Lily Hart was applauding a customer who had just won an eight-layer cake from a scratch-off ticket—a cake that was even taller than the woman herself.
The winner was grinning from ear to ear, unable to contain her joy, while the surrounding residents simply watched in envy.
No one dared to get close and touch it. Just yesterday, someone, overcome by gluttony, couldn’t resist licking another person’s prize—a giant pork knuckle...
They had been instantly flung five meters back and lay on the ground for a good while before scrambling up to apologize profusely, claiming they hadn’t meant to, that they just couldn’t control the urge.
The cake could be separated layer by layer. The woman stepped onto a stool and carefully lifted off the top tier.
It was as wide as an adult woman’s embrace, a testament to the cake’s immense size.
She bought a disposable knife, forks, and plates from Boss Hart, then cut the prettiest, most perfect slice for Lily Hart.
She also cut two more slices for Diana Sharp and Tina Jacobs. They tried to refuse, but the woman firmly pressed the plates into their hands.
Lily Hart gave them a reassuring look. ’She’s already given them to you, so just relax and eat.’
The two girls exchanged a glance, thanked the customer in unison, and began to slowly savor the sweet dessert.
She didn’t just share with Lily Hart’s group; she also cut the cake into many small pieces and handed them out to the residents who had congratulated her.
Everyone was surprised they were getting a share. They accepted the pieces one by one, offering their sincere thanks.
Though the pieces were small, it was more than enough. Everyone was deeply satisfied. After all, this was someone else’s prize.
"This cake is so delicious! What’s this white stuff? It just melts in your mouth!"
"I know, right? What is it? It’s so sweet and soft, and there are little pieces of fruit inside!"
"I think it’s called ’cake’? The kind people eat on their birthdays."
For a moment, the atmosphere was incredibly harmonious, like villagers gathering for a chat, talking about anything and everything.
Stan Sterling arrived to this heartwarming scene. He didn’t join the crowd, instead finding a less populated spot to get ready to use his own scratch-off tickets.
Meanwhile, after the cake’s winner had finished handing out slices, she prepared to cut a piece for herself before putting the rest into her spatial storage to keep it fresh.
But who could have predicted it? A small, grimy hand suddenly shot out from the side, grabbing right for the beautiful bottom layer.
In an instant, the edge of the layer was crushed and smeared with brownish-yellow dirt. The cake’s owner reacted in a flash, fury rising in her heart.
She seized the culprit’s wrist in a firm grip. Lily Hart looked closer—it was that little boy again!
Unfazed by being caught, the boy just kept stuffing cake into his mouth, smearing cream all over the lower half of his sticky face.
Seeing him completely unconcerned, the woman grew even more furious. "What gives you the right to steal my cake!" she snarled through gritted teeth.
As she spoke, she raised her other hand to slap him, but the little boy shot her a vicious glare.
The woman’s pupils suddenly dilated. Her eyes went vacant as if she’d suffered a massive shock. Her grip loosened, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.
Some people rushed to help the woman, while others tried to grab the boy, but he was small and wiry, as slippery as an eel.
He was clever, too, darting into the thick of the crowd. Despite their numbers, the adults couldn’t catch the little brat.
He suddenly changed direction and dashed straight for the eight-layer cake. In one motion, he scooped with both hands, tearing away a huge chunk of the bottom tier.
Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he bolted in the direction of the industrial zone.
Lily Hart had witnessed the entire event. She had seen him touch other people’s rewards multiple times before and get away with it.
In a flash of urgency, she jumped onto a stool, then onto a tabletop, and leaped down, landing steadily. Without a second’s pause, she was off in pursuit.
Stan Sterling had been keeping an eye on Lily Hart the whole time. Seeing her take off, he dropped his scratch-off tickets and immediately followed.
Roman Rowe was casually strolling in front of the convenience store, hands clasped behind his back, when he saw a little brat tear past the entrance.
Less than three seconds later, Lily Hart sprinted by. Three seconds after that, Stan Sterling followed.
Roman Rowe’s head swiveled from side to side like a pellet drum. He quickly caught on and took off after them.
He didn’t forget to yell back a warning to Easton, "If anything happens, go find your Uncle Colby!"
Lily Hart had never been athletic. She wasn’t running very fast; it was taking all her energy just to keep the little boy from disappearing from view.
’It seems having a kickass superpower is useless without a strong body to back it up,’ she thought. ’Combining the two is what really makes you invincible!’
Roman Rowe’s voice called out from behind her, "Lily Hart! Boss Hart? Wait for me!"
He put on a burst of speed and easily overtook her. "What’s the plan? Going for a morning jog?"
Lily Hart shot him a glare. "Catch that little brat up ahead. And we need him alive!"
"Roger that!" Roman Rowe accelerated again, but he was worried about leaving Lily Hart by herself and kept looking back every few steps.
"Just go! I’m a Fifth-rank Superpower User, for crying out loud!" Lily Hart waved him on impatiently.
Roman Rowe gritted his teeth and sprinted ahead, chasing after the boy.
Lily Hart was already exhausted. Seeing him go, she slowed to a walk, one hand on her hip and the other braced against a wall for support as she moved forward.
Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine. She had a gut feeling that someone was behind her...