Slaughtering Pigs

"Slaughter pigs! Slaughter pigs!"

A cheerful little tune rang out through the weed-choked courtyard.

After an uneventful night, Fang Ling got up early the next morning.

His patched single-layer clothes had been stained with blood. The stench was too strong and frightening to wear outside.

So he wore padded cotton clothes instead.

It was spring, with the lingering chill of early spring not yet fully gone, so they did not feel too hot.

After eating his fill, he immediately headed toward the butcher shop.

When he arrived, the fat man was still stocking goods.

"Fatty, I've come to see you again." Fang Ling walked over and waved at him with a smile.

"Who?" The fat man wiped the sweat from his forehead with the cloth around his neck and turned around in surprise.

"Oh! Isn't this, uh..."

The fat man searched his memories and suddenly realized that he did not seem to know this crippled little beggar's name.

He had always called him Little Cripple without a second thought, but this boy would become a Soul Master in the future. He could not keep using such an insulting name.

"I named myself Fang Ling," Fang Ling said softly.

"Fang Ling, right!"

The fat man nodded heavily, a bright smile returning to his face. "Brother Fang, are you here because... you finished those two pieces of meat?"

Seeing him about to cut another two pieces of meat, Fang Ling hurriedly stopped him.

"No, thank you, thank you. I did come here for a reason, but not for meat."

If not for meat, then what was it for? Money?

The fat man became somewhat nervous and held his breath as Fang Ling said, "I want to work at the Slaughterhouse. I'd like to ask for your help."

"The Slaughterhouse?"

Hearing Fang Ling's purpose, the fat man relaxed slightly, though he was also puzzled.

"Brother Fang, you have Level One Soul Power. You'll be able to become a Lord Soul Master someday. Why not cultivate properly? Why do you want to go to such a filthy place?"

"No money."

Fang Ling spread his hands.

"Even though I'm a beggar, I have dignity too. I can't exactly come here every time over the next few years and mooch free meat from you, can I?"

"I don't mind..." The fat man opened his mouth.

"You may not mind, but I do. I don't like owing people too many favors. I'll feel more at ease earning money through work."

Fang Ling explained his reason.

"Besides, I'll be a Battle Spirit Master in the future. Thinking about the battles I may face, I feel fired up. Seeing blood early on is always a good thing."

His hand clenched tightly into a fist. His dark eyes reflected the torchlight, as though he were solemnly making some vow to himself.

His determined expression left the fat man unable to refuse.

After a moment, he said, "I'll take you there."

"Thank you, Fatty! I'll definitely repay your kindness in the future!" Fang Ling said gratefully.

"Hehe, but those clothes won't do. Change into something else." The fat man nodded, wiped the grease from his hands, and disdainfully tugged at Fang Ling's beggar's padded clothes.

"They don't need to be anything nice. Coarse linen will do. That place is filthy too, after all."

"But you can't look like a beggar."

Fang Ling smiled awkwardly. "I don't have any other clothes."

"I'll take you to buy some new ones."

"Watch the shop for now." The fat man got to his feet, called out a shop assistant from the inner room, then waved to Fang Ling. "Let's go. I'll take you there now."

Fang Ling was so excited that tears welled up in his eyes, and he could not help bouncing with joy. "Thank you, Fatty. Once I become a powerful Soul Master, I'll definitely repay your kindness!"

"Let's hope so. If you can become a Soul Grandmaster someday, just don't forget this Fatty from today."

The fat man did not know much about Soul Masters, but he knew they were divided into ten levels.

Level One was the lowest. Other than Level Zero, there probably was not anything worse.

Still, Fang Ling could become a Soul Master eventually.

Besides, there was light in this crippled little beggar's eyes. What if he really made it?

Helping someone enter the Slaughterhouse took no effort. Why not do such an easy favor?

"Don't worry, I definitely won't forget!"

He bought a set of coarse linen clothes that fit him. Though they were very rough, Fang Ling was already delighted beyond measure.

After greeting the soldiers at the city gate, the fat man led Fang Ling, now changed into new clothes, outside the city.

"Because the smell of blood is too strong, and to make trade more convenient, the Slaughterhouse was built outside the city. They mainly kill pigs there, though there are some cattle and sheep too."

"Notting City lies at a trade junction between two countries, so there are many travelers. They kill at least dozens of pigs every day just to keep up with demand."

"With your little frame, you'll probably only be able to do odd jobs there."

"That's fine. Helping out is good enough." Fang Ling knew his current weakness. He was thin and not very strong, so he definitely would not be able to kill many pigs.

But after a year, he should be able to accumulate at least a little, right?

Together with the one point the Stats Panel increased on its own each year, as well as the levels gained through diligent cultivation, that was already quite fast.

The Slaughterhouse outside the city.

Before they even got close, a familiar stench drifted into Fang Ling's nose.

It was the nauseating yet faintly thrilling scent of Fresh Blood.

There was also the pungent smell of soil and dry grass fermenting together. It was the smell of horse manure.

All kinds of odors mixed together, creating an especially sour, refreshing assault on the senses.

It stank several times worse than the ruined little courtyard where he slept as a beggar.

The fat man unconsciously waved his plump hand in front of his nose.

Of course, it did nothing.

As a meat seller who came here every day to stock up, he was actually used to the smell.

Leading Fang Ling past cart after cart loaded with goods, the fat man smiled and greeted a skinny old man. "Uncle Liu."

The old man was sitting nearby, holding a bowl and gulping down water. Hearing the voice, he looked over in surprise.

"Fatty? Didn't you already collect your meat and leave this morning? What are you doing back here?"

The skinny old man called Uncle Liu glanced at Fang Ling and pointed at him. "Why did you bring a child here?"

The fat man moved closer and said, "Uncle Liu, he's Innate Level One. He wants to become a Battle Spirit Master in the future, and he wants to work at the Slaughterhouse to see some blood."

"A Soul Master coming here?"

The old man set down his bowl with a clatter and stared at Fang Ling as though he were some rare curiosity. "A Work-Study Student?"

Soul Masters were all precious and accustomed to being above others.

Only Work-Study Students with no money and no background would be willing to come to a place like the Slaughterhouse.

"Yes, a Work-Study Student!"

"A cripple wants to become a Battle Spirit Master too?"

The old man smacked his lips and took a pipe down from the wall.

"What's wrong with being crippled? Cripples can become Battle Spirit Masters too! Don't judge me by how I look now. I'll be incredible in the future!"

Fang Ling raised his arm and struck a bodybuilding pose.

He showed off his not particularly muscular bicep.

The old man surnamed Liu was amused into chuckling. "You brat."

"Grandpa Liu, are you willing to take me in?" Fang Ling looked at him expectantly, somewhat nervous.

"Can you endure hardship?"

Old Liu tapped the pipe against the wall. Hearing that form of address, he could barely suppress the smile on his face.

"Yes, of course I can!"

Fang Ling did not dare boast about anything else, but he could guarantee this.

"I used to be a beggar. What hardship haven't I endured?"

"Good lad. Then follow us."

He encouragingly patted Fang Ling on the shoulder, then waved Fatty away. "All right, Fatty, get lost. I'll take him to familiarize himself with the tools."

"Thank you, Uncle Liu. Brother Fang is in your care, then."

The fat man nodded and bowed, pumped a fist at Fang Ling to encourage him, then turned and left.

"What's your name? Did you just awaken your Martial Soul?" Old Liu squatted down and looked at Fang Ling, who was only one meter tall due to malnutrition.

"My name is Fang Ling. I just awakened my Martial Soul."

Fang Ling smiled at him, then summoned his Sickle. Its sharp metallic gleam made Old Liu nod repeatedly.

It looked sharp. A good Martial Soul.

"What do you want to do here?"

"Slaughter pigs, of course!"

"Slaughtering pigs has several steps: withholding food and water, restraining them, slaughtering them, bleeding them, removing the hair, and cleaning them..."

Fang Ling's eyes shone. "I'll be a Battle Spirit Master in the future. I'll have to kill people. I want to do the slaughtering!"

"Good lad! As expected, someone who can go from beggar to Soul Master is extraordinary!"

Old Liu's narrowed eyes suddenly widened, and he could not help shouting his praise.

"There'll be some to kill later. I'll first show you what we need to prepare."

He knocked out the ash, exhaled a cloud of smoke, hung the pipe back on the hook on the wall, and slowly walked off in one direction.

"Okay, then thank you, Grandpa Liu."

Fang Ling followed behind him, clenching his fists and taking a deep breath.

He was extremely excited inside. The point acquisition plan has succeeded!

If any dear readers have investment opportunities in hand, please consider giving them to this little author.

This little author has a complete outline for this book, and the detailed outline has already been written for three volumes.

This book will definitely be completed.

My heartfelt thanks.