Chapter 321: Invitation
Zhou Ning led Richie Burke into the room. Following behind, Richie suddenly recalled a novel he'd once read called Granvos Mountain, which had a similar scene. A chill ran down his spine. Wait, this guy's not planning to… violate me, is he?
As a part-time historian, his greatest skill was association and wild imagination. Though the other man was indeed quite handsome, a true Northlander remained ever steadfast—except for Overalls Jaquin.
He hesitated, lips twitching. "Hold on. Before we go any further, I want to know what kind of help you need from me." On second thought, if he had to endure it… maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world.
"Something good," Zhou Ning said, walking to the desk. He tossed him a Starry Sky Guild invitation letter and a folder of organized documents. "Sign this first. I'll go freshen up."
Richie caught the papers with one hand. Seeing the contents clearly, he exhaled in relief and signed without hesitation.
He'd already anticipated this. After all, he had agreed to work for Wayne Sturwell for three years, and besides, he was curious about the Chosen Ones in the guild. The folder contained the tasks he'd be handling there.
Richie skimmed through the papers, his eyes flickering.
Damn it, that's a lot of demands. He was to recruit his own subordinates into the guild, send someone to take over his alchemy shop, manage inventory and sales, purchase nearby stores to convert into a temporary guild base, organize and oversee the Chosen Ones' adventurer missions.
Still, it wasn't bad—at least he wasn't being sent to die.
[Richie Burke has joined the Starry Sky Guild.]
[Richie Burke: Level 61, Profession: Rogue / Historian.]
At the same time, players quickly noticed a new NPC had appeared in the guild. Discussions erupted instantly, and forum posts popped up one after another.
"Holy crap, that's Richie Burke—the comic relief who follows Wayne around in the series!"
"Hey, Richie Burke's actually pretty strong, okay? The guild keeps expanding; my guess is he's gonna be a new skill instructor!"
"Maybe, but who's even gonna switch to Rogue? I doubt it."
Everyone was full of curiosity about the new NPC—wondering if he could give quests or teach skills.
When Zhou Ning returned from washing up, he also set Richie's permissions to allow him to recruit members. Dressed in a white coat, he walked over and asked, "Finished reading? I'll take you over there this afternoon. For now, there's something else I need you to handle. Don't worry—it's not difficult."
Gesturing for Richie to step aside, Zhou Ning extended his palm toward the floor. Instantly, three massive Mithril Golems—each over six meters tall—rose from beneath the ground.
Richie's breathing quickened. He crouched to inspect them repeatedly, his voice trembling. "These are… made of Mithril?"
"That's right," Zhou Ning said with a smile. "All Mithril. Think you can handle them? Whatever price they fetch, I'll give you ten percent."
He wasn't bothered by Richie's excitement. Handling such things himself would be a headache—and he probably wouldn't even get a good price for them. Better to let a professional handle a professional's job. With his Compass of Guidance, he didn't have to worry about them running off anyway.
After all, the last thing he feared was dealing with pirates.
"Yes! Of course I can handle it!" Richie said quickly. "But it'll take at least two months to sell them all. Darklan can't absorb that much Mithril at once—it'd crash the price. I'll have to ship them to Sepharic, Ruins, and the northwestern wizard kingdom of Mutis to get a better deal."
He spoke hurriedly, as if afraid Zhou Ning might change his mind. "I swear by the Ocean God, I'll complete the trade with all my power and won't play any tricks."
Zhou Ning blinked, thoughtful, as he felt the weight of divine contract magic settle into place. That was the strange thing about the Apocalypse World—an oath sworn in a god's name could drive one mad or even kill them if broken.
"Then I'll leave it to you," Zhou Ning said with a smile. "Can you carry them?"
"Of course. My 'Infinity' Ring can fire beams that destroy enemy defenses—and it can store nearly as much as a church plaza." Richie revealed this deliberately to show trust and loyalty.
He extended a trembling hand and stored the massive Mithril Golems away, his attitude turning increasingly respectful.
For Northland pirates, anyone who helped them make money was a brother—and anyone who helped them make big money was basically a second father.
Zhou Ning hadn't expected Richie Burke to have such hidden cards. That flintlock pistol of his had already made Zhou Ning envious, and now this top-grade ring was worth at least several thousand, maybe tens of thousands of Vecktas.
After confirming he had all his extraordinary materials with him, Zhou Ning asked, "What's the name of the craftsman we're meeting? Where does he live?"
"His name's Ignatius Woods. From the name, you can tell he's Byronian. He lives near the canal district, on Sweetwater Lane," Richie replied immediately.
The canal district's Sweetwater Lane—less than fifteen minutes from Zhou Ning's shop. Odd. He didn't remember hearing that name in his past life. Zhou Ning nodded. "Alright, let's head over now. I've got a busy day ahead."
"Understood, Boss Wayne. I've already got a carriage waiting outside," Richie said.
Now that's the upside of having a subordinate.
Sure enough, a carriage was parked outside, driven by one of Richie's pirate underlings. Zhou Ning adjusted the collar of his white coat and climbed aboard, heading toward the canal district.
On the way, they inevitably passed through the old city. Zhou Ning squinted slightly, gazing at the area ahead. Not long ago, this had been a construction site—Joshua Lambert had been killed here, crushed by a bundle of steel bars after being tricked by that damned little book.
But now, Joshua Lambert was "alive," and the site had become a completed building—a poorhouse. A sign read Bryston National Poorhouse, and ragged beggars and workers were busily moving supplies in and out.
Wait… this poorhouse looked familiar. Where had he seen it before?
Zhou Ning's heart skipped as he recalled a series of earlier events.
In the canal district, on his way to the Golden Oak Herb Shop, there had been a nearly identical poorhouse—he'd even asked Richard about it back in Chapter 38. Another similar building stood near Livia Street, one he'd passed before attending the chubby boy's birthday party—but that one had been an orphanage.
All of them had appeared after the House of Lords passed the Poor Law Amendment Bill by a majority vote.
And by pure "coincidence," each poorhouse or orphanage looked exactly like one of the seven structures he'd seen in the mural depicting the Ascendant Ritual—the only difference being the domes lacked crystal inlays.
No wonder those buildings had felt familiar back then. And Jeremy Wayne Aiden—disguised as Chris Fisher—had also been a welfare home director. Could all this really be coincidence?
No. In the realm of the arcane, when coincidences pile up, they stop being coincidences.
A shadow crept over Zhou Ning's heart. He even felt the urge to stop the carriage. But he decided otherwise—better to discuss it with Sherlock at noon, then investigate afterward. That would save time.
About ten minutes later, the carriage slowed and stopped in a narrow alley. They had arrived at Sweetwater Lane.