"M-my lord? What are you going to do?" the tribesman asked fearfully.
"A merchant kept up this white lie for thirty years, providing you with food practically for free, only to suffer your curses and complaints." There was a trace of anger in Chu Mu's voice.
After a pause, he emphasized:
"You should all be ashamed of your selfishness."
"But we put so much effort into digging up this gold dust. Everyone, from top to bottom, digs for it. In our hearts, it is gold dust!" the tribesman protested. "He could have simply stayed out of this business. We wouldn't have minded going back to our old lives. But since he started this business and kept it going for thirty years, he should keep doing it!"
At this point, anger crept into his voice:
"After all these years, he's harmed at least several generations of us. He should take responsibility for us!"
"From beginning to end, you've thought only of yourselves," Chu Mu sighed. "People like you don't deserve kindness."
"We never needed kindness. It was all his self-righteous meddling that hurt us!" the tribesman said angrily. "He should compensate us even more! If gold dust is useless to him, why did he make us dig for it? Why didn't he just give us the food? He's a rotten bastard! Nobody could be worse than him!"
"Not necessarily." Kafka chuckled. Her smile was dangerous and cold.
She pointed her gun at the tribesman and said:
"Unfortunately, real villains don't give you food."
"W-what are you going to do?" the tribesman asked in terror.
"Feed you a Peanut Bullet!" Silver Wolf scoffed.
"What's a Peanut Bullet?" The tribesman looked puzzled.
"You may leave." Chu Mu waved a hand. Rather than making things difficult for the tribesman, he let him go.
He