CHAPTER 25: 25 OLD DENG, SEND MONEY! (PLEASE CONTINUE READING!)

"Damn, that scared me to death..."

Herbert let out a long sigh upon returning to his room, collapsing onto the bed somewhat exhaustedly.

"What a sudden attack, I almost fell for them!"

He had actively sought out Thorn Bishop to report a minor incident, on high alert himself, afraid of showing any flaw.

Despite that, he unknowingly got influenced by someone in the dark and almost exposed himself.

"Aren’t you supposed to be Holy Professionals? How can you be so despicable!"

A bunch of old guys without any sense of propriety, ganging up to bully an eighteen-year-old like me... this is just too much!

Your methods are utterly vile, even for someone like me, an Evil God Contractor, it’s unbearable.

"You’re even using Spiritual Control, are you secretly planning some kind of mental pollution and personality discard?"

"No way, I definitely need to strengthen my soul’s protection! I must find a way to continue arming my soul!"

After two interference from Nenasha and the Rusted Nail Bishop, Herbert was almost having post-traumatic stress disorder.

"Enhancing strength takes time, and not all abilities I gain from Demon Materials will protect the soul, what should I do?"

After pondering for a while, Herbert suddenly had an idea.

"If it’s not enough internally, I’ll just use external help!"

He got up from the bed, sat in front of the desk, and quickly began writing on a piece of letter paper.

"Dear Father, I am your favorite second son, it’s been a while since we last spoke, please send money... wait, no, it shouldn’t be that intimate."

Swipe.

Herbert changed to a new piece of letter paper, starting over:

"Respected Duke Albert, this is Herbert, long time no see, I hope everything is as usual, may the blessings and wisdom of the gods be with you."

"Everything is fine in the Monastery, this place is holy, yet the prison is dangerous with the Alien Race, my soul is constantly disturbed."

"Therefore, I, your second son, at the edge of light and shadow, humbly request your assistance."

"What I seek is neither gold nor silver, nor is it power or glory, just a unique item that can protect the soul."

"I hope you understand, I would be deeply grateful."

After finishing, Herbert frowned and pondered for a moment.

"Hmm... it doesn’t feel quite right."

The sense of detachment in the words was sufficient, but it still seemed too intimate and humble.

Why does it feel like I’m asking for a favor?

No way!

Swipe.

This time, Herbert skipped the formalities and wrote directly and simply:

"Duke Albert, this is Herbert."

"Dark intrusions, need soul protection."

Perfect!

Looking at the sparsely written family letter, Herbert nodded with satisfaction.

Look, this letter is so well written!

Blunt, extremely cold in tone, with a singular theme throughout—Old Deng, send money!

"Haha, just like that."

Herbert didn’t know if his father was involved in the plan to frame him, but at least when they parted ways in the Royal Capital, there was no quarrel.

Since they hadn’t completely fallen out, he could boldly ask for things.

Now he’s acting in the letter like a reclusive Cultivator who, after being persecuted, has shut off his heart and is a cold, emotionless machine who has forgotten what love is...

"So, are you happy with such an outcome? Or do you feel sadness and regret? I really look forward to seeing your expression when you receive this letter."

Unfortunately, he couldn’t personally see it anytime soon.

Moreover, he believed that the letter wouldn’t just end up on the Duke’s desk; surely those observing him from the shadows would see it too.

Once they saw it, would they be even more convinced that Herbert was thoroughly disheartened and ready to become a recluse?

Would they show some smug smiles?

"Let’s let you laugh a bit longer."

As for whether Duke Albert would actually send him the Magical Artifacts, Herbert wasn’t too concerned.

Wool, maybe.

If you don’t shear it, you don’t get it, but if you don’t shear it, you definitely get nothing.

Let’s just consider it a shot in the dark!

If it comes, it comes.

If it doesn’t come, then forget it, just pretend there’s no such father.

Folks, grow a thicker skin, many things aren’t as hard as they seem.

Herbert wrote just this one letter, not trying to contact anyone else.

His mother in this lifetime died of illness ten years ago, and there’s no one in the family worth his concern.

Initially, he got along well with his two other brothers, but after his downfall, their suspicions were too great, and he had no desire to probe.

Once Herbert entrusted the letter to other Cultivators to send it, he returned to his room with still some time left before nightfall.

"This Harmonious God, really just doesn’t cut it!"

"Aren’t we supposed to be in some long-distance relationship? Still have to wait for the time difference to communicate... tsk."

Herbert waited for a while, growing quite bored, not knowing what to do to pass the time.

Just as he was feeling entirely aimless, he suddenly remembered the hidden red hair.

Hey, I’ve got an idea.

"This is definitely easier to consume than the previous scales."

Herbert looked at the hair that had been washed repeatedly, gleaming under the candlelight, and took a deep breath.

With psychological preparation, he closed his eyes, grabbed a handful, and stuffed it into his mouth, not trying to resist but directly attempting to swallow it.

Then...

"Ptooey... cough cough cough!"

Weird.

The sensation was just too weird!

The strange feeling of hair sticking to his throat, the pain of trying to swallow but failing, assaulted his soul.

At that moment, Herbert felt something eerie.

He felt like he became one of those stalkers who follow others, watching their every move from the shadows, even collecting fallen hair for his gratification.

Wow, too perverted, dude!

Ugh.

There was no way; Herbert simply couldn’t keep going. He spat out all the hair in his mouth and rinsed his mouth several times.

"Blergh—cough cough, forget it, forget it, I just can’t eat it; I’ll wait for Nenasha to handle it."

...

["Did you eat it?"]

"No, I didn’t! Don’t slander me, or I’ll sue you for libel!"

Herbert flatly denied, refusing to admit he did such a thing.

["Haha, let’s just say that happened then."]

Nenasha chuckled lightly, not taking his denial seriously, and casually added:

["Oh, I forgot to tell you, although you do need to eat it, the key point is in your blood."]

Herbert: Hmm? Oh!

I guess there is such a thing?

Why did I insist on eating it with my mouth then?

Could it be that... I actually like it?

No, no, no.

No way, that’s absolutely impossible!

How could I be such a person...

["Alright, my ally, are you ready?"]

"You mean ready?"

["Careful, her willpower will be harder to endure than before."]

"What are you talking about..."

Just as Herbert was puzzled, his blood trickled onto the red hair, and a swirl of intense red mist surged up.

The next moment.

Herbert saw flames in front of his eyes.

Endless flames!