The world has turned into Hell's Game, why should I stay human?
Chapter 559 - 425: The Big Shots’ Cloud Dog Raising_2

Chapter 559: Chapter 425: The Big Shots’ Cloud Dog Raising_2

Liu Zheng got enraged as soon as he heard this.

The more capable you are, the more work you get. That’s how it is in reality, and now even in Metropolis, it’s still the same damn thing.

If he’s efficient, does it mean he always has to stay efficient? That’s just bullying the straightforward folks!

"Uh, listen, don’t get upset. That’s not what I meant."

Red Pig was stunned by his sincere performance.

"To me, it sounded exactly like that. If you don’t trust me, I’ll just return the stuff to you, and our commission is off the table. Do you even know how much I’ve bent over backward for your damn issue? I even pushed back my boss’s orders for your sake."

"And now, you’re actually accusing me of slacking? Are you still human or what?"

Liu Zheng roared, full of fury.

"I’m indeed not human."

Red Pig shrugged innocently.

Not to mention it was dead already—in life, it was half-human, half-pig.

"You’re still arguing! Keep this up, and I’ll throw in the towel!"

He widened his eyes, gearing up to flop to the ground.

"Alright, alright, it’s my fault. Happy now?"

Red Pig replied helplessly.

"Hmph, now that’s better."

Liu Zheng held his head high.

"So, how’s the investigation about my wife going?"

Red Pig asked, seizing the moment.

"There’s a lead, but not much. You know Niu Ma, that guy. While he’s always running his mouth with wild talk, when it comes to critical stuff, his lips are sealed tighter than a tunnel borer can break through."

He said, half-seriously, half in jest.

"Hmm, true that."

Red Pig nodded in agreement.

"Then why did you shoot me with the Tomb Guardian’s gun?"

It circled back to the starting question.

Having stayed in the cemetery for years, it could naturally recognize the Tomb Guardian’s aura.

"The Tomb Guardian made me do it. Go ask him."

Liu Zheng shrugged.

"What nonsense. If I had the clout to ask him, would I even need you as my middleman?"

Red Pig snapped irritably.

If it wielded that kind of authority, it’d simply order the Dead to run errands directly.

"As if I have the qualifications to question him either. Anyway, aren’t you still alive?"

Liu Zheng remarked, eyeing its wounds that were slowly healing.

"Are you gonna hit me or not? If not, I’m leaving. Too much on my plate to waste time chatting with you."

"Stay any longer, and I might just lose control and clobber you."

Red Pig clenched a fist bigger than his head as a warning.

"Alright, see you."

Liu Zheng took off like the wind.

"Like boss, like underling."

Red Pig muttered, watching his retreating silhouette, though a faint smile played on its lips.

It wasn’t naive—in fact, it had received proper education—how could it possibly miss Liu Zheng’s odd behavior?

Having lived in the cemetery for decades, if the Tomb Guardian wanted to take it out, he could’ve done so long ago, with no need to borrow Liu Zheng’s hand.

Thus, the only explanation was that Liu Zheng had procured the revolver from the Tomb Guardian.

And Liu Zheng shooting it with the revolver certainly wasn’t an act of petty vengeance.

Although Red Pig hadn’t yet pieced together the motives, it was probably tied to the commission it gave Liu Zheng.

"That kid—just as hypocritical as his boss."

Red Pig shook its head.

"I hope next time you can give me an answer, Liu Zheng. Whether it’s good or bad, my reward for you will definitely match expectations."

It mumbled to itself briefly before sinking back into the graveyard.

"I’m back, sir."

Liu Zheng jogged all the way to the cemetery exit.

"What... are you doing?"

He hesitated, staring at the Tomb Guardian holding a steel bucket.

"Taking a milk bath."

The Tomb Guardian replied matter-of-factly.

The lanky horse nodded, flipping the steel bucket upside down, causing thick milk to cascade down.

"Uh... want me to go find some rose petals for you?"

Liu Zheng asked.

"No, that’s women’s stuff."

The Tomb Guardian declined.

As if taking milk baths screamed masculinity or something.

"I’ve completed the task you assigned."

Holding back a snide remark, he handed the revolver over the coffin.

The Tomb Guardian extended a hand, picked up the revolver, and fired without saying a word.

"BOOM!"

Amid the swirling smoke, the lanky horse stretched its long face forward, its large incisors clenched around a glowing blue bullet.

"Whinny~"

The lanky horse let out an excited snort.

"Go find it, old-timer. If you can’t find the soul, bring the body back."

The Tomb Guardian ordered.

"Thank you, sir."

Liu Zheng hurriedly stepped forward, stuffing a wad of cash into a small pocket.

Clearly, the Tomb Guardian wasn’t confident about retrieving Qian Zao’s soul, otherwise, he wouldn’t have said that.

Still, if he couldn’t recover the soul, at least the corpse would be a fallback.

Even if Red Pig’s soul disintegrated, he could still bury the two together.

The lanky horse glanced at him, patted his shoulder with its hoof, then bit its reins and dashed toward the neighboring plot under the sunset.

"Should I wait here or go home for updates?"

Liu Zheng asked.

"You can leave. The bullet will find you."

Replied the Tomb Guardian.

"Alright, I’m counting on you, sir."

He gave a small bow, preparing to turn and leave.

"Hold it."

The Tomb Guardian stopped him.

"Something else, sir?"

Liu Zheng felt a bad omen.

"Do you like tomb raiding?"

The Tomb Guardian asked.

"No, I don’t."

He replied firmly.

Saying you like tomb raiding in front of the Tomb Guardian is akin to admitting to a pure-hearted warrior that you’re the Huang Mao planning to cuckold him.

"You really don’t like it?"

"I truly don’t."

His tone was resolute.

"You could like it."

The Tomb Guardian emphasized.

"Can I not like it?"

"I think you do."

The Tomb Guardian raised the revolver, aiming at him.

"Fine, I like it now."

Liu Zheng replied with a wry smile.

"Good."

The Tomb Guardian lowered the barrel.

"Is there something specific in the tomb you want me to retrieve?"

He asked.

"No."

The Tomb Guardian shook his head, milk splattering everywhere.

"Is the tomb owner your enemy?"

"Not that either."

The Tomb Guardian continued shaking his head.

"Then why?"

Liu Zheng asked, puzzled.

"Some things must be done, otherwise the mind gets stuck."

The Tomb Guardian pointed at the archway.

"Why me?"

He sighed.

"Why not you?"

The Tomb Guardian countered.

"Shouldn’t there be a reason for everything?"

He grumbled under his breath.

"They said you’re very useful."

The Tomb Guardian’s gun roved over him, pausing to aim at several marked spots.

"I knew it."

He sighed in dismay.

Being a frequent flier of the Metropolis probably came with a price after all.

Just like the sewer said, Liu Zheng was like a communal pet dog for the city’s bigwigs—convenient and reliable.

"The dead are more generous than the living."

The Tomb Guardian consoled.

"Let’s hope so. When should I come?"

He asked.

"The bullet will find you."

The Tomb Guardian seemed to have a fondness for repeating himself.

"Problem is, you know I’m a deliveryman for the Bloody Restaurant. My schedule isn’t exactly flexible."

Liu Zheng explained his predicament.

"I’ll handle it."

"...Alright."

Since the Tomb Guardian said so, he had no choice.

With the Tomb Guardian’s capabilities, ordering a week off probably wouldn’t be an issue.

"Prepare more ’meat.’"

The Tomb Guardian reminded.

"How much?"

Liu Zheng frowned.

He didn’t particularly enjoy using "meat," but if it was for his safety, he’d have to comply.

"Prepare more ’meat.’"

The Tomb Guardian reiterated.

"Got it."

That meant the more, the better.

"By the way, sir, I have a favor to ask."

Noticing the green surroundings, inspiration struck him.

"Go on."

The Tomb Guardian was patient.

"I have a friend—a French Plane Tree. It might be about to evolve soon. Could I transplant it to the cemetery and ask for your care?"

He asked.

"Sure."

The Tomb Guardian agreed without hesitation.

"That’s fantastic."

Liu Zheng exclaimed in delight.

That solved one major issue. No matter how resourceful White Feather Chicken was, it’d be impossible to deliver supplies directly to the cemetery.

"However, trees here can only evolve into one thing."

The Tomb Guardian added.

"What’s that?"

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