After confirming there were no problems, He Xi took Bruce and dragged the sack containing the Fishman out of the house.
The sea breeze swept through the silent alley.
The sack scraped across the stone-paved road with a dull rasp. Bruce followed alongside, lowering his head to sniff it now and then before quickly lifting his nose away in disgust.
"Woof, this thing reeks."
"Even if you think it reeks, you'll still have to drag it once we reach the intersection." He Xi paused. "One person gets half. Fair enough."
Bruce immediately stopped, sat down, tucked in his tail, and tried to disguise himself as an ordinary little dog that could not understand human speech.
Ignoring its shameless act, He Xi set the sack down at the intersection and continued onward.
The reason he had decided to dispose of this Fishman was that, if Trist later asked where that Goblin had gone, he intended to tell another well-meaning lie.
He did not know how the presence within the other's body sensed its sacrifices.
Through Trist's senses?
By scent?
Some connection within flesh and blood?
Or something even more incomprehensible?
Even though Trist had said he could sense whether that Sect Master was still asleep, one could never be too careful when dealing with an existence of that level.
As for whether that Sect Master would eventually notice something wrong with the sacrifice, or discover that his power had not recovered as expected, there would at least be no problem for three months.
Three months was enough for him to come up with a second method of "packaging Goblins."
Besides, it was not certain the other party would even discover it.
At the docks, He Xi watched the sack vanish beneath the seawater before taking Bruce back the way they had