Bitter Fruit (Sixteen)
At long last, after all that waiting.
After all his efforts to create a favorable environment for handing out the mission, the containment target had finally appeared—though not without a struggle. Fu Qian couldn't help sighing to himself.
Fortunately, the mission prompt was still a decent length compared to the ones he'd gotten before. The Warehouse hadn't let him down too badly.
Though, judging by the content, it didn't seem to be good news.
Ensure that some of the natives survive?
That condition, singled out as a prerequisite, clearly ruled out one approach to handling the mission: killing every living thing.
The trouble this time was much as he'd expected. Something called Bitter Fruit was taking root and spreading through this special place, once known as Akons.
And although few of Akons's natives remained, the simplest, most brutal solution—massacring them—clearly wouldn't solve the problem.
From that perspective, it seemed his restraint and kindness toward others along the way had been quite necessary.
As expected, a true gentleman was ever vigilant, even when alone.
Fu Qian finally turned his attention back to the tongue still at work.
It was certainly lively, but was it a little too red? Internal heat from a yin deficiency?
Given her mental state, though, that was only natural.
"That's very true. How could the glory of the Great One be reflected by a mere stone?"
Of course, his shameless diagnosis hadn't kept Fu Qian from observing the rules of social etiquette. When Xilaliya turned her head toward him, he answered her question as well.
Or perhaps he ought to call her Dark Xilaliya.
After all, this was clearly about more than whether the veil covered the upper or lower half of her face. The extent of her transformation made it seem as if