Chapter 332: Orange Reward
When Zhou Ning pushed open the door, he couldn't help but pause for a moment. The general store looked exactly the same as before—still haphazardly arranged, as messy as a junkyard.
But besides Sherlock, there was another person sitting inside—the former protagonist Leandro Pessa, whom Zhou Ning hadn't seen since the expedition to the Temple. If he remembered correctly, in the original storyline, Leandro should currently be at school, participating in the alchemy competition and showing off in front of that so-called Child of the Plane, Puximi Shelley, from the Ruins Kingdom.
Right! The alchemy competition!
Zhou Ning couldn't help wanting to smack his forehead. He had just remembered that he himself was supposed to be a contestant in that very competition.
He'd been so busy saving the world lately that he'd completely forgotten about Professor Wesley—hopefully, the professor wouldn't hold it against him.
Leandro stood up and gave a crisp, neat bow, a bright smile on his face and eyes full of respect. "Good evening, Senior Wayne!"
This guy really hadn't changed a bit—he still radiated that over-the-top hot-blooded energy, a mix between Luffy and Naruto.
And that favorability score… it had actually increased by more than ten points since they last met. If the other party were a girl—and Apocalypse were a galgame—this would probably be the point where things could turn a bit intimate.
Noticing Zhou Ning's gaze, Sherlock's lips curved into a faint smile. "The Sunkeeper can't participate in the investigation personally, but there's no rule against unofficial assistance. Leandro will accompany you as a support for the next phase of the investigation. Don't worry—his abilities are more than sufficient."
Of course they were. He was the Child of the Plane, after all. According to the laws of narrative logic, partnering with him was bound to invite a storm of trouble.
Zhou Ning grumbled inwardly, but outwardly, he maintained a calm expression, smiled, and nodded to Leandro. "Welcome aboard."
"I'll do my best!" Leandro declared enthusiastically.
When Zhou Ning sat down beside him, Sherlock pulled a small notebook from his coat and laid it on the table. His tone grew serious. "Everything you asked me to look into is in here. These are records of deaths and police reports from various almshouses since midyear, after the passage of the Alms Act. The details are… quite unusual."
"Death records?"
Zhou Ning's heart tightened as he quickly turned his eyes to the notebook.
"June 7th, 11 incidents, 7 fatalities.
At 10:00 AM, in the Trade District almshouse—Justin died after accidentally falling and breaking his neck.
At 12:00 PM, in the Hemingway Street almshouse—Mrs. Joe Lizzie died after being caught in a textile machine due to exhaustion.
At 4:00 PM, in the Golden Clover South Road orphanage—a dormitory fire killed five."
"June 10th, 8 incidents, 6 fatalities…"
"June 12th, 7 incidents, 5 fatalities…"
"All the way up to December 17th—6 incidents, 4 fatalities…"
Zhou Ning flipped page after page, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. At first, it seemed like random coincidences, but the further he read, the more horrifying it became. Every record represented real, living people—each with families, each now gone. And December 17th should've had five deaths… one of which he had just personally witnessed.
Sherlock, seeing Zhou Ning still silent, continued, "According to Cherry's calculations, since midyear, deaths in almshouses from exhaustion, accidents, illness, and other causes have exceeded the normal threshold by 745 times. In the field of mysticism, too many coincidences mean it's not a coincidence. These almshouses are definitely hiding something."
Zhou Ning nodded gravely. There was no doubt something was wrong. He had a strong feeling that once he found Chris Fisher, he'd uncover the next piece of the truth.
He flipped through the notebook again. The mural's Ascendant Ritual altar had seven platforms in total—but according to this record, since midyear, eighteen new almshouses and orphanages had been built.
If his hunch was right, it was just like the second act of Diablo II—the seven false and one true Tombs of Tal Rasha. Some would be real, others fake. The thought made Zhou Ning's head ache.
Three were in the Old District, two in the Trade District, one on Hemingway Street, one on Golden Clover South Road, three between the docks and port area, and one near Vick University—that made up those closest to him. As for the rest, most were on the outskirts of Darkland… those would have to be handled by the rather idle Leandro. Hopefully, the former protagonist wouldn't let him down.
"These… these few locations—can you handle them?" Zhou Ning asked, pointing to the map.
"No problem at all!" Leandro said loudly, puffing out his chest.
Zhou Ning: …
Why did this feel so familiar?
"Good. I like your energy," Zhou Ning said, half-squinting.
They arranged to meet again the following evening at the same spot. By the time Zhou Ning left West Lin's General Store, it was already past midnight. Strangely enough, the torrential rain had suddenly cleared, and the sky was now bright and cloudless.
He checked the progress on his simulator—his panda avatar, still wearing that ridiculous Pineapple Hero cape, was flying, the update bar creeping along erratically, sometimes fast, sometimes agonizingly slow.
It was at 27% now. At this rate, another two or three days and it should be complete.
His home was about six kilometers away. If he took a longer route, he could stretch it to ten.
Considering his daily "Secret Training Method (God-Tier)" routine, he decided to run home—burning youth, as Rock Lee would say.
The Old District's streets were well-lit, and as he ran, he occasionally passed ragged figures shuffling along with their families, or huddled beneath streetlights to rest.
They were the homeless poor—inevitable victims of the economic downturn after Charles VI's death.
During his run, Zhou Ning confirmed the locations of three almshouses, planning to investigate them one by one soon.
When he finally got home, he did 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 100 squats. Then, satisfied, he watched the notification pop up on his panel:
[You have completed one round of the Secret Training Method (God-Tier). Your physical stats have increased randomly. Agility +1, Strength +1, Stamina +2.]
Not bad! Zhou Ning gave himself a thumbs-up. At this rate, world-destroying power was no longer just a dream!
After taking a shower, he made himself a beef toast sandwich, poured a cup of milk, and reclined comfortably in his chair, eating while opening his game panel.
After everything he'd been through—the blood, the sweat, the near defeats—it was finally reward time.
He had earned one random template and two random rewards from his recent mission, and the anticipation made his heart race.
He started with the random template card. Without hesitation, he clicked it. A surge of orange light flared brighter and brighter—it was orange again!
Thinking back to how the Triton Sword had upgraded last time, Zhou Ning couldn't help grinning. Today really was his lucky day.
Could it be… that the springtime of the African chieftain had finally arrived?