They all call me an Outer God.

Chapter 184 The Essence of a Ruthless Merchant

"Wailing, hehehehe, they wail every single day..."

The old man closed his eyes, and some liquid dripped onto the pillow, soaking the dust.

“I am surrounded by their wails every day. Although they did not actually shout it out, I felt as if I could hear their inner cries.”

This is really...

It is really--

It's so beautiful to hear!!!

"Don't you think so? You and I are both monsters, and you should be proud of such grief, hahaha, didn't you almost think I was one of those boring good people?"

The old man opened his eyes and looked at Ria. The liquid that soaked the pillow did not come from his eyes, but from the corners of his mouth and nostrils.

The pillow was soaked with the man's snot and saliva, which shimmered under the kerosene lamp. Ria remained unfazed: "No, it wasn't."

"If I'm not mistaken, your illness is pollution syndrome, and your main meme is black market trading."

The primary motif is the true nature of a person recognized by the supernatural; you have no idea how to hide it and easily expose yourself.

Black market merchants...

What good things could a heartless businessman possibly have? What makes you think I consider you a good person?

As he spoke, he pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed it against the forehead of the person on the bed, his gaze cold.

"Actually, the moment I stepped into this place, you should have been able to guess my purpose. We are the same kind, but also different kinds."

We're playing the same role, but what you're doing is so low-class, yes, low-class.

I think I should tell you what a black market merchant is, sir—

Eliminate all your competitors, make yourself unique, and lose all business conflicts.

You don't think I'm stupid enough to take away your money-making opportunities, do you?

Lia tapped the other man's forehead a few times with the muzzle of his gun, making a "thump-thump" sound.

"I'm going to make sure you never have a chance to make money, so all the money ends up in my pocket."

This is what a "black market merchant" truly is.

Ria was in a good mood.

"I have said all I need to say, sir. Now it is time for you to continue your journey."

He bowed with unusual politeness, but just as the young man was about to fire, the old man suddenly opened his mouth wide, his upper and lower jaws separating by eight inches, and a strange sound came from his throat.

“You are approaching death; the virus in your body is mutating,” Ria shook her head, informing him of this tragic fact.

"Nonsense, I'm almost healed! As long as I consume the life force of other people, I'll be completely cured!"

“You can never be cured!” Ria said what he had kept hidden in his heart all along. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet went straight through the old man’s mouth, leaving a large hole in his mouth.

"If you don't even believe you can recover, what else can you believe?"

What is the meaning of your life?

The old man was looking after poor Ria, feeling that Ria's illness was more serious than his own, but the young man was still struggling to hold on.

"Some creatures prolong their lives by remaining completely still, reducing the consumption of energy in their bodies. You should be here with me to cure diseases, instead of listening to the nonsense of some people."

“Let me swallow you, and your contamination will be completely cured. I am right, child. You will never be wrong to listen to your elders.”

His voice grew louder, and yellowish-black smoke gradually filled the small red brick room. Ria decided to put the mysterious item he had previously stolen into his ears to avoid being contaminated by any supernatural sounds. The moment he put on the red earplugs, the noise disappeared, and Ria felt an unprecedented sense of peace and security. He could still clearly hear what the person on the bed was saying, but their words no longer affected him.

The only downside was that Ria felt this person's words sounded just like rock music, making him restless and constantly wanting to dance.

That's not a problem. The issue is that Lia can't dance, and he doesn't intend to. A moment later, the young man stared at the old man on the bed with a strange look in his eyes.

"You can't move at all now, right?"

The old man, seeing the strange look in his eyes, suddenly had a bad feeling: "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to help you loosen up your muscles. Next—is the moment to witness a medical miracle."

Lia clapped her hands, and the old man suddenly felt his limbs making a long-lost sound as his joints twisted.

"Click, click-"

……

What are red earplugs?
[Wearing this can filter out most polluting noises, at the cost of continuous dancing until the red earplugs get tired of it and want you to stop. Of course, if the user is liked enough by the red earplugs, it can occasionally make an exception and let someone else dance in their place.]

[Condition to make Red Earplugs like you: Show it a lot of money. No one can resist the temptation of money, not even Earplugs.]

These are red earplugs.

You have already shown it enough wealth; the clattering silver coins rolling on the ground are enough to prove your personal charm.

Now, go and use it.

……

Inside the factory, the workers were still numbly going about their tasks.

They have a clear division of labor and never do anything unnecessary. They can do one thing all day long. For example, if someone's job is to install a screw on the steel passing by, then he will repeat the same screw installation all day long.

Even after work, this person's hands would still be moving in this way, and he would even wave his hands repeatedly in his sleep.

Many people suffer from joint diseases because of this, but they have to do it for their meager wages and for their families and wives. Even if they work until they die, they will never understand why they can only earn so little money.

Most of the workers' skin was ulcerated, and their eyes were as white as boiled fish, making them look quite terrifying.

Inside the workshop, everyone worked mechanically.

But soon, a scream shattered this balance.

"Go outside quickly! There are people dancing outside!"

The group did not react at all.

"It's the big boss dancing! The big boss wants all of you to get out!"

Only after this shout did the workers stir.

They stopped the machine from running and rushed out to see what instructions the boss had, only to find a balding old man dancing a comical tap dance.

The old man, barefoot and wrapped in a blanket, hopped around on the gravelly ground, his feet making a soft "slap slap" sound as they touched the earth.

The previously confused Birdwin also ran out, and the moment he saw the old man, he shouted, "Dad!"

"Dad, what are you doing?!"

Birdwin rushed over to stop the old man, but the old man grabbed his hand and forced him to dance a duet, one struggling and the other dancing wildly.

They were like two happy roosters, stomping their feet on the ground, and soon the ground was covered with scarlet marks.

(End of this chapter)