The entire venue fell deathly silent.
Lin Feng stared at the woman in front of him—back turned, posture boldly offered, actively requesting to be hit—and for once, his mind stalled.
He was just a restaurant owner.
Since when did running a restaurant require catering to customers'… unique payment preferences?
No money—pay with your butt?
What kind of transaction model was this?
A new generation butt-scan payment system?
He had a thousand complaints queued up, but not a single one felt appropriate to say out loud.
Beside him, Bi Ji had already given up completely.
She raised a hand and covered her face in despair.
The dignity of the Soul Beast Clan—
From Di Tian's pig-head humiliation to Zi Ji's raised butt—
Gone. Reduced to ashes.
My Lord, she screamed internally, this mission is impossible. I truly cannot do it.
Just as Bi Ji's patience reached its breaking point—when she was seriously considering cleaning house on the spot—
A cold, authoritative voice rang out.
"Where did this wild chicken come from, daring to cause trouble here?"
Bibi Dong.
She had just secured the position of main wife and was already planning long-term defenses against Hu Liena and Zhu Zhuyun—those ever-scheming little vixens.
And now?
Another one showed up.
And this one skipped all subtlety, sticking out her butt and proposing on-the-spot transactions?
Absolutely intolerable.
Bang!
A dull thud echoed.
Bibi Dong didn't even stand.
She simply lifted her leg casually and kicked.
She forgot one small detail.
She was no longer yesterday's Bibi Dong.
This kick carried uncontrolled Divine Rank power.
"OW——!!!"
Zi Ji's scream pierced the hall, a hundred times sharper than her earlier egg-tart despair.
She launched into the air like a purple cannonball, tracing a beautiful arc before slamming face-first onto the floor—
Sliding from the center of the hall all the way to the entrance.
Screech—thump.
Qian Daoliu and Bo Saixi instinctively pulled their feet back.
It almost hit them.
Zi Ji lay there, unmoving.
Her butt no longer belonged to her.
It burned like it had been branded with molten iron.
Yet her brain—strangely—was more active than ever.
With trembling hands, she raised two fingers toward Lin Feng.
Her voice quivered with pain… and devotion.
"T-this… such a vicious kick…"
"A-at least… at least it should be worth two!"
Then she turned her head to identify the payer—
And saw it.
The one who kicked her was the woman sitting beside Lin Feng, radiating disdain and supremacy.
Not the deity himself.
Zi Ji's mind went blank.
The sky collapsed.
The transaction… invalid?
Then didn't that mean—
This beating was free?
As Zi Ji seriously considered whether she could shamelessly charge the kick retroactively to Lin Feng's account—
Bi Ji finally snapped back to reality.
She noticed something else.
Across the table, a woman quietly sipped a strange drink filled with black pearls.
Ah Yin.
Bi Ji's pupils contracted.
She could clearly sense it—
Pure, familiar life energy.
A plant-type Spirit Beast.
Over one hundred thousand years old.
And she was sitting calmly among humans, sharing food with this deity?
Bi Ji's heart skipped.
A daring thought surfaced.
Could it be… the Lord's speculation was correct?
This mysterious deity not only harbored no hostility toward Soul Beasts—
He might actually be… close to them?
Hope reignited.
Bi Ji stopped paying attention to her sister at the door, who was still calculating the butt-to-egg-tart exchange rate.
She straightened her rumpled clothes, bowed deeply to Lin Feng, and spoke with genuine sincerity.
"Lord Deity," she asked carefully, "may I know… your stance toward our Soul Beast Clan?"
The question sharpened the air.
Everyone listened.
Qian Daoliu.
Bo Saixi.
Hu Liena.
Bibi Dong.
All eyes turned to Lin Feng.
Under the collective anticipation, Lin Feng set down his teacup, lifted his gaze, and replied lazily—like he was discussing dinner plans.
"Soul Beasts?"
"No particular stance."
"As long as they don't cause trouble here, humans, Soul Beasts, gods—it's all the same to me."
"…"
Bi Ji froze.
That was it?
Just… that?
She had prepared for negotiations. Conditions. Warnings. Declarations.
Not this level of indifference.
It felt like writing a ten-thousand-word thesis—
Only for the professor to wave it away and say, 'Do whatever.'
Her thoughts short-circuited.
"So… Lord Deity means," she tried again, unwilling to give up, "as long as we don't provoke you, you won't act against us?"
"Otherwise?" Lin Feng replied, looking at her like she'd asked something strange.
"You don't owe me meal fees. Why would I hit you for no reason?"
Bi Ji: "..."
Hu Liena whispered, "But didn't you beat Di Tian pretty badly?"
Lin Feng raised an eyelid.
"He asked for it. That was passionate mutual combat. Doesn't count."
Hu Liena: "..."
Why did that sound… logical?
Bi Ji took a deep breath, letting go of the feeling of 'I bared everything and got this.'
She realized approaching from a racial or political stance wouldn't work.
This deity's perspective—no, his lack of perspective—was far beyond expectations.
So she changed angles.
One final question.
The one that troubled everyone.
She bowed again, tone solemn.
"Lord Deity, forgive my presumption."
"Why does an existence like you not remain in the supreme God Realm, but instead descend to a 'barren' land like the Douluo Continent?"
"Do you… have a purpose here?"
Silence.
Every breath slowed.
This answer could reshape the continent.
Under their collective gaze, Lin Feng finally sat up straight.
He lifted his teacup, took a sip, and scanned the room full of expectant faces.
Then he spoke.
"Because—"
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