You promised to wreak havoc on the dungeon, but instead you've got Dragon Slime!

"and many more--!"

Perkins's hoarse voice, like sandpaper scraping his throat, finally overwhelmed all resistance:

"...I agree!"

His daughter was his Achilles' heel, his Achilles' heel.

He had no choice but to fall into Bacchus's hands.

Bacchus turned around, his face showing little surprise, only a cold indifference as if he controlled everything.

He walked to a huge, rusty wrench next to the rock face and pulled it down sharply!

"Creak—Boom!"

A heavy, mechanical sound rang out.

The massive chains suspending Perkins began to move slowly, dragging him from the death zone above the lava to the relatively safe edge of the stone platform.

As Perkins' body landed suspended in mid-air on the hard, cold ground, Bacchus drew a strangely shaped dagger that shimmered like mercury, and with a seemingly effortless slash—

Zheng!

The specially made chain, as thick as a child's arm, snapped instantly, like a thread being cut.

Perkins fell to the ground with a thud. The heavy pressure from years of restraint suddenly disappeared, causing him to convulse violently like a fish out of water.

Bacchus approached, and shadows enveloped him:

"What's the rush? Clean up this mess you've made first. What makes you think you can do anything for me right now?"

He spoke with disdain.

Perkins suddenly stretched out his charred, deformed hand, revealing bare white bones, and grabbed Bacchus's trouser leg tightly!

The force was so great that the count frowned slightly.

He raised his face, which was covered in blood and wounds and whose features were barely discernible, his eyes filled with a plea so humble it was almost grotesque:

“I don’t want to see her… fine… I only ask… to see her from afar… just one glimpse! Please… Lord Bakus…!”

Bacchus looked into his eyes and saw the near-collapse of his pain, a pain far deeper than the searing heat of magma.

A playful smile curled at the corner of his mouth:

"Recognize relatives? Ha... Perkins, do you want your daughter to bear the mark of 'remnant of a traitor,' living in the shadow of hatred and contempt for the rest of her life?"

"Do you think that after she learns the truth, she will joyfully rush into the arms of her father's killer to acknowledge him as her father, or... wish she could personally send you into this lava?"

He kicked Perkins' hand away, his tone cold and authoritative:

"Get well soon and work for me diligently. Once things settle down..."

He paused, looking into Perkins's eyes filled with utter despair and pain, and finally spoke as if bestowing a gift.

"...I'll let you see it 'from afar.' Satisfied?"

Perkins collapsed to the ground as if his spine had been removed, his last pleading gaze dimming, leaving only an empty, lifeless silence.

He had become a puppet completely controlled by threads.

……

Carolina's potion always carried a strange warmth, which perfectly dispelled Ron's fatigue and thoughts.

After finishing a large bowl of thick soup, the two tacitly parted ways.

Carolina went to Lilith with some trepidation to seek permission, while Ron headed straight for the monster market.

100 level 7 old monsters were retained, and there are still 300 level monsters to fill in.

If you take up 20 slots, the remaining 280 slots can be filled with either 28 level 10 monsters or 14 level 20 tough monsters.

He had no idea what kind of guy he was looking for, so he could only "treasure hunt" on the spot.

The market remained bustling, filled with all sorts of strange creatures and noisy hawking.

Ron's appearance was like water dripping into boiling oil, instantly igniting the entire first-floor hall!

Chapter 83 Hatred of Moretti

"Look! It's Baron Ron! My God, he's even younger and more handsome in person than in the image stone!"

A halfling screamed.

"Come on, Erica, you're drooling! What if Miss Lilith knew you were eyeing her personal designer..."

The stone gargoyle next to it made a gruff, mocking sound.

"What do you mean, 'Lilith's exclusive'? Haven't you heard that Princess Claudia, the Great Lord's beloved daughter, also has a soft spot for him!"

An old lich wearing a tattered cloak lowered his voice, but couldn't hide his excitement.

"Yes, yes, yes! I heard that the princess even made a special trip to his dungeon that day! Their relationship must be quite special!"

As Ron listened to these increasingly outrageous gossips, he could only helplessly press his temples.

"Sure enough, you can't escape gossip no matter where you go..."

He smiled bitterly to himself.

Claudia?

That dazzling and powerful princess was merely helping to gather manpower.

appreciate?

You probably can't even remember his name, right?

The thought had barely formed when a clear, cheerful voice rang out from beside me:

"Ron! What a coincidence!"

Ron looked in the direction of the sound and saw Claudia walking quickly toward him.

Her radiant beauty was accentuated by a well-tailored blue mage's robe that shimmered with a magical glow.

A collective gasp and suppressed gasps immediately filled the air, and the fire of gossip instantly ignited.

“Uh… Your Highness Claudia.”

Ron forced a smile and responded politely:

"Thank you so much for that day."

"Easy to do."

Claudia laughed freely and naturally, seemingly completely unaware of the intense gazes around her.

"You're here to hire people? I'm here to investigate too, shall we go together?"

Seeing her composed demeanor, Ron could only suppress his doubts.

Does Her Highness really have time to come to a place like this for "inspection"?

Perhaps the high lord assigned her some strange task?

He suppressed his thoughts and nodded in agreement:

"my pleasure."

Under the envious, jealous, and curious gazes of numerous monsters, the two walked side by side into the depths of the market.

Ron had a clear goal and headed straight for Patchwick's stall, which he hated.

"Mr. Patchwerk, do you have any good recommendations for a few level 20 guys?"

Patchevik's small eyes, which seemed to be squeezing out a smile even from the seams of his stitches, instantly lit up. He rubbed his rough, greasy hands together, his voice filled with the excitement of a fan meeting their idol:

"Baron Ron! It's a pleasure to meet you again! I never expected to see you so soon! Please, please, sign your name!"

He frantically pulled out a slightly greasy but still relatively clean leather scroll and a thick charcoal pencil.

Ron was both amused and exasperated, but he still signed his name in a flamboyant manner.

Patchwerk carefully accepted the autograph, then remembered Claudia standing next to him and quickly bowed.

"Your Highness, please forgive me! Please forgive me!"

Then he pointed to a spiral staircase of rough stone steps deep inside the market:

“Your Excellency, the LV20 ‘elites’ are all on the second floor. You need to find Mr. Witt; he is the steward here.”

After thanking Patchwick, Ron led Claudia toward the stairs.

Stepping onto the wide, arched stone platform on the second floor, a stark contrast to the bustling crowd below is the eerily quiet desolation here.

Ron's brow furrowed instantly.

In the huge stone hall, which was spacious enough to hold hundreds of people, there were only a few scattered figures... less than twenty.

These LV20 "elites" were few in number, and most of them stood with arrogant eyes and arms crossed, exuding a cold aura that kept strangers at bay.

The entire space was empty and desolate, as if an invisible layer of frost had condensed in the air.

"This place... is too deserted, isn't it?"

Claudia also noticed the anomaly and spoke in a low voice, her clear voice sounding somewhat abrupt in the empty stone hall.

This is far from the bustling scene of elites gathering that was envisioned.

There must be a demon in the abnormal situation.

Ron's brow furrowed even deeper.

He ignored the lone monsters standing in the corner and walked straight to the abomination administrator sitting behind the huge bone table at the far end of the second floor.

The name tag on his chest read "Moretti".

The latter was idly polishing his bony fingers with a gleaming, giant boning knife.

"Mr. Moretti."

Ron spoke, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable sense of power:

"I need to hire a few monsters, their level requirement is around LV20."