Seven-Day Countdown

Half his salary?

Fang Mo's face remained expressionless, his eyes narrowing slightly as his mind raced.

The Old Man and Fatty Wang were old family friends. Judging by how he had guarded his food earlier, he probably would not cheat him.

But this hereditary position truly was a Hot Potato.

Right now, he was like a child carrying gold through a bustling market, surrounded by hungry wolves in every visible and invisible corner.

The Liu family father and son did not even qualify as a blade used to kill someone else. At most, they were Chess Pieces sent ahead to test the depth of the waters.

The Punishment Department sounded somewhat connected to the Demon Suppression Division.

That was fine too. He could scout the way first.

He would hang that Scrap Liu Junyan in the Heavenly Prison as a shield to draw fire, while he took the chance to build himself up.

It was September twenty-third now. There were seven days until next month.

Over these seven days, he had to raise his strength another level.

"Hey, kid, what are you thinking about?"

Seeing Fang Mo remain silent for so long, Wang Youan jabbed him with an elbow.

"Are you accepting or not? Say something! If you don't accept, I'll have these two Scraps roll right back where they came from!"

He Patted his round belly, his face full of ill intent.

"I can take over your shift too. When the time comes, split half your salary with me. What do you say? Your Uncle Wang will take a little loss and shoulder this matter for you!"

Fang Mo came back to himself, and his face instantly piled on a cheerful grin.

"Uncle Wang, listen to what you're saying. How could your nephew dare trouble you like this?"

He gestured with his chin toward Liu Junyan, who was still groaning on the ground.

"Just let this kid do it. Someone's working for us for free—what a fine thing."

"But..." Fang Mo abruptly changed the subject, rubbing his fingers together. "This position..."

How could Wang Youan not understand what he meant? A flash of disappointment passed through the eyes squeezed into slits by his fat.

This little bastard was actually refusing to let him make this money!

He cursed irritably, "What position? He's just a temporary fill-in doing odd jobs, and he still wants a position? He can keep dreaming!"

Wang Youan seemed to recall something, a malicious smile spreading across his lips.

"Oh, right. You don't need to pay him a salary for now either."

"Your father's compensation was withheld by that old bastard Liu Tingbai."

"When the work his son does and the monthly salary he earns have made up your Old Man's compensation, then you can consider paying him. It won't be too late!"

The moment those words fell, Liu Tingbai—who had just been helped up by his son Liu Junyan—turned from deathly pale to dark purple.

He pointed at Wang Youan, his lips trembling, a single word—"you"—stuck in his throat for a long time.

Then darkness clouded his vision, and sweetness rose in his throat.

"Puh—"

A mouthful of Fresh Blood sprayed high into the air, and his entire body fell stiffly backward.

"Father!"

Liu Junyan let out a shrill scream and frantically rushed to catch his father.

Wang Youan clicked his tongue in amazement and slapped his thigh in approval.

"Look! Look! As expected of Lord Liu, who worked diligently for twenty years. Even the height of his blood spray carries more grandeur than anyone else's!"

Hearing that while lying in his son's arms, Liu Tingbai's Whole Body suddenly convulsed. His limbs went limp, and he completely collapsed.

Fang Mo nodded thoughtfully and added,

"Mm. This time, he really fainted."

Wang Youan curled his lip, looking utterly bored.

"How dull."

He beckoned to the honest-looking Man in the crowd.

"Old Huang, come here! Take this kid and familiarize him with the work!"

After saying that, he clasped his hands behind his back and strode away with his belly thrust out, still muttering under his breath.

"That little bastard really has no eye for money. He actually won't let me earn it... Hmph!"

Fang Mo's mouth twitched.

This Uncle Wang had truly fallen into a money pit.

Trying to get back the money he had previously pocketed would probably be harder than climbing to the heavens.

The Man called Old Huang hurried over, an honest smile on his face.

"Little Brother Fang, come with me."

Fang Mo quickly gathered his thoughts and cupped his hands toward Old Huang in a solemn salute.

"I'll trouble you, Uncle Huang."

"Ah, why be so polite?"

Old Huang gave a Hehe laugh, revealing a mouthful of large yellow teeth as he waved his hand.

"Just call me Old Huang. The two of us will have plenty of dealings with each other from now on."

"Come on. I'll first take you to change clothes and collect your gear."

Old Huang led the way ahead while lowering his voice to introduce things to Fang Mo.

The two passed through the Stone Chamber from earlier and turned into an even narrower corridor.

The Luminous Pearls here shone more dimly, while the chill and rotten stench in the air grew increasingly thick.

"Little Mo, this place of ours never sees the sun Year-round."

"Who knows how many things that cannot bear the light are buried underground. Yin Energy, Sha Qi, Grievance Qi—touch any one of them, and it'll kill you."

Old Huang pointed to the faded black fitted outfit he wore.

"Don't look down on these Jailer Uniforms for being ugly and old. They're all things that save lives."

"The fabric of these clothes is woven from Black Iron Wood fibers mixed with Hundred-Forged Golden Thread, then soaked in secret medicinal liquid for eighty-one days..."

"This stuff is impervious to water and fire. It wards off evil spirits and blocks Yin Energy. Take it outside, and not even a thousand gold could buy one!"

As they spoke, the two arrived before a row of stone walls.

Half-man-high stone holes had been carved into the walls, their entrances sealed by iron grates like crude storage lockers.

Old Huang pointed at one of them.

"Here we are. This is where your father used to keep his things. The key is hanging from your badge."