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“Excuse me, miss. My employer wishes to invite you to join us on our voyage,” a cultivator who looked
like a servant came over and said to Quinley out of the blue..
“Your employer?”
Quinley was slightly startled. “Yes. Mr. Zupakie would like to invite you to sail the Night Sea together,”
the servant elaborated, pointing to someone a stone’s throw away.
Quinley glanced in the direction he was pointing, only to see a man dressed in a white shirt waving at
her with a smile, looking very much gentlemanly.
She was just about to decline when she noticed Jared throwing her a look. Promptly grasping his
intention, she replied smilingly, “After you, then.”
The servant nodded and led her over while Jared and Cloud followed a short distance away. At the
sight of Quinley approaching, the man immediately straightened his clothes. All smiles, he then started,
“I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty to invite you to join me, miss. I’m Zordey Zupakie. You can
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtcall me Zordey. And you are?”
“I’m Quinley Tall,” Quinley replied honestly.
“Quinley… What an elegant name! I wonder who you came with to the Night Sea. Also, can we voyage
together?” Zordey asked.
“I came with my two brothers. I would’ve liked to voyage with you, but we didn’t manage to buy tickets,
so I won’t be able to join you, Mr. Zupakie.”
Quinley wore a helpless expression. Seeing the look on her face, Zordey instantly countered with a
chuckle, “What’s the big deal about having no tickets? Just wait a moment, and I’ll get you a few.”
After saying that, he threw his servant a look. The servant then strode toward the crowd queuing to
board the ship, two bodyguards in tow.
He first scanned his gaze over the crowd before yanking out a cultivator who appeared petite and weak
among them.
“Hand over your ticket, kid. Mr. Zupakie wants it!” he demanded arrogantly, Although the tickets bore no
name and could be snatched away, doing so publicly at the dock was too blatant. It was evident that
the Zupakie family must have a certain level of influence.
Otherwise, Zordey would not have dared do so.
“What are the lot of you doing? Are you simply snatching my ticket away openly in front of so many
people?” the cultivator squeaked with terror in his eyes.
“Who said I’m snatching it away? I’m buying it from you.”
As the servant said that, he took out some spirit coins and tossed them onto the ground. Then, he lifted
the cultivator up and had the bodyguards search the man for his ticket.
Seeing that, the cultivator did not dare argue further. With inferior capabilities and no family to back him
up, a wandering cultivator like him was destined to be picked on.
Having succeeded, the servant grew even more arrogant. He again swept his gaze through the
queuing crowd.
Many cultivators hung their heads low, reluctant to invite trouble at such a time. Just then, an elderly
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmman in a black robe who emanated a foul smell entered the servant’s line of sight.
Upon noticing him, the servant marched right up to him. After all, snatching tickets was best done by
targeting the weak. He felt that the elderly man was easy prey.
“Take out your ticket, old man!” he said to the elderly man. “Why should I give it to you?” The elderly
man yawned as he eyed the servant.
A foul stench hit the servant right in the face, making him promptly clap a hand over his nose. With his
face contorted into a mask of fury, he snarled, “D*mn it! How smelly! Hand your ticket over, and I shall
spare you!”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the elderly man’s black hands suddenly shot out at him like
lightning. His expression changed at once. Before he could react, he was already struck.
Smack! Following a crisp slap, the servant’s head exploded, and he was as dead as a doornail. At that
scene, shock inundated everyone present.
No one could have imagined that a blow from an inconspicuous and smelly elderly man had such
power.
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