After the call with Great Swamp ended, Kieran didn't head to Flame City right away.
He still had some matters to deal with.
The atmosphere was getting darker.
The banquet in the temple was coming to an end.
A banquet without Kieran was similar to the God of Forest City not appearing at the banquet.
A banquet without a God was destined to be livelier. The guests toasted, smiled, exchanged pleasantries, and formed their own little circles, clashing and blending with each other.
Wasn't that the purpose of the banquet?
To show obedience and expand connections.
Morton's face was glowing, as if he was the main character of the banquet.
Of course, it was just 'as if'.
The real main character wasn't here. The main character in line was in a corner, whispering to the existences that were worth communicating with.
Morton's eyes flashed with envy.
Even though he was already standing in Hermair's position.
But compared to the old Hermair, the younger Morton had bigger ambitions.
The position before him …
It was just a starting point.
So, when he saw the old monk walk out from the corner, Morton, who had been preparing for a long time, walked over with his wine glass.
He chose a good spot, walking over felt like a coincidence.
Even in his mind, Morton had already thought of an excuse and rehearsed it countless times.
Opportunities always came to those who were prepared.
Morton deeply believed in that saying.
Just like how he believed that he would succeed next.
"Good evening …"
Morton greeted politely.
Then, all that was left in his world was a pair of turbid eyes.
Gradually, the pair of turbid eyes became clear, just like the small stream in the jungle of his childhood home, cool and bottomless.
His body was bathed in the warm sunlight.
Insects and birds chirped in his ears.
Those days …
How nostalgic.
Morton couldn't help but exclaim.
Then, a question popped up in his heart.
Why don't I go back to my original life?
My initial goal was to exchange for a sharp axe for my father and a set of kitchenware for my mother. I came out to work because of that.
But now, how long has it been since I visited them?
The last time was at the end of the year, we only met briefly at the dining table.
What did they say?
They seemed old.
They didn't seem happy.
They seemed …
Lonely.
Somehow, Morton's eyes felt warm.
When the tears gushed out, he saw the same pair of turbid eyes.
As for the words that were about to come out of his mouth, he forcefully swallowed them back.
This was not the right time to speak.
There was no need to say anything else.
But at least the other party had expressed goodwill, right?
"Thank you."
Malton said out of habit.
No matter what the other party's attitude was, Morton was always polite to those who helped him.
After the old monk nodded and smiled at Morton, he turned around and continued walking.
Morton stared at the silhouette until it disappeared from his sight, and only then did he withdraw his gaze.
He recalled what he had just 'thought' about.
In the end, he shook his head.
He was no longer who he was at that time.
It was impossible for him to let his temper do as he pleased.
He needed to know when to give up.
In the following period of time, Morton acted as if nothing had happened. He continued to hold his wine glass and wander among the guests who were about to leave, just like before.
When the last guest left, Morton left the temple.
Before he left, he once again gave every Funeral Society member in the temple a little gift.
It wasn't expensive but it was the kind that showed extreme care.
"Boss, there are two meetings tomorrow morning."
"A couple of clients from Many City will be here in the afternoon."
"These are the documents that you must go through today."
The moment Morton got into the car, the secretary handed him a stack of documents while speaking.
Morton took it without saying a word and began to flip through it under the light of the car.
The secretary lightly tapped on the driver's seat.
She knew it wasn't the right time to disturb Morton.
Likewise, she also knew her boss would go back to the company to sleep because of the meeting tomorrow morning.
The car moved forward at a steady speed.
However, when they reached the crossroad in front of the temple, Morton suddenly spoke.
"Wait!
Let's go to the villa in the outskirts first.
And … "
"Prepare two gifts for my parents. They are old, don't pick … Forget it, drive to a place where gifts can still be bought."
"I'll pick them myself."
Morton said.
The secretary looked at her boss in shock, as if it was the first time she met him. But soon, the secretary came back to her senses.
"Okay."
"I know a place."
"They are open all night."
"And what about the meeting tomorrow morning?"
"It will be held as usual."
The car started again.
This time, it didn't stop, driving straight to the destination at a faster and steadier speed.
The plan didn't change.
However, his life had changed.
As for good or bad?
Who knows?
Benevolent people see benevolence, wise people see wisdom.
Or perhaps, only one knows the temperature of the water.
…
The old monk staggered towards Kieran, putting his palms together in front of him.
"Your Majesty."
The old monk slightly bowed as he spoke.
"Mm."
"Well done."
Kieran said softly.
"It's him who did well, not me."
The old monk wasn't surprised that Kieran knew everything. In this city, who could hide from the God who owned the city? The old monk shook his head with a smile and bowed again. "Thank you for everything you've done for Tanya."
"I don't like owing favors, so I'm just returning the favor."
Kieran said honestly.
"That's why I should be more grateful."
The old monk smiled again, the wrinkles on his face folded up layer by layer. It wasn't ugly at all, instead, he looked kind and grateful.
However, Kieran didn't want to continue the topic.
"Do you know the blacksmiths who can create items like treasures and potion makers who can create special potions?"
Kieran went straight to the topic.
What would you do when you had absolute ownership of a city?
There were too many things you could do.
But for Kieran, there was only one thing: use the city to produce and create more Points.
Selling items and potions would definitely be his first choice!
Maybe he couldn't do it in the big city.
Every player had their own consciousness.
Even with Broker's methods, it wasn't guaranteed to be foolproof.
However, it was different in the current dungeon world.
He was a God in the eyes of the natives.
His words were like a divine oracle.
Kieran could acquire endless resources in this city.
As for time?
Kieran knew there was no such thing as perfection in this world, he wouldn't dwell on such matters.
More so, the most important thing now was the old monk's answer.
Under Kieran's gaze, the old monk spoke.
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