Dim and gloomy light reflected off Udir's fat face. Things had reached this point, and Joey could only choose to cooperate. Though he didn't want to admit it, facts proved that he was the weaker party in front of the other man, which only made Joey's desire to grow stronger all the more resolute.
Moreover, the most important point was that he would not place all his hopes in one basket. Although the Withered Corps was a better choice, he didn't entirely trust them given Katrin's previous example, and Udir was yet another alternative.
Regarding the seed, Joey still possessed a good deal of self-awareness. Relying on just him and Alisa to manage subsequent matters would be nothing short of wishful thinking.
Besides, Udir's mercenary character made him an exceptionally good cooperation partner.
"The seed is still in the experimental stage and has only achieved preliminary results. Mass production will require a large number of clinical trials," Joey explained.
In fact, the method for cultivating the seed had already succeeded before Old Tony's accident. Saying this was merely to buy time and play along.
Udir carried his hands behind his back and paced on the spot, seemingly weighing the pros and cons.
He was a merchant who only pursued profit; killing was not the end goal, but a means to exchange for huge benefits. Cooperating with the inner city was like this, and cooperating with the of Joey was no different.
Furthermore, Udir knew one thing deeply: that lord in the inner city was a tiger that devoured people without spitting out their bones. If he were the slightest bit careless, he would be eaten up until not even scrapings remained.
Even if Alisa hadn't made the matter of the seed explicit, he wouldn't have acted rashly; he would only have hidden Alisa away to carve out a way out for himself.
"I can provide you with all the items you need."
Joey secretly breathed a sigh of relief. This first hurdle had finally been safely crossed.
In fact, thinking about it afterward, he had still been impulsive this time. What he relied on was nothing more than his identity as a member of the Survey Corps. If Udir had thrown caution to the wind and torn off all pretense, escaping safely would have been nearly impossible.
Joey nodded silently, then said:
"I will not stay at the farm." At this, he paused and shifted his gaze to Alisa: "Of course, Alisa will stay."
If he had a choice, he wouldn't have left Alisa behind either, but there was no help for it. Cooperation had to be built on conditions where both sides had mutual guarantees in order to proceed smoothly.
"Of course, if anything happens to Alisa..."
Joey didn't finish the rest of his sentence, instead giving Udir a warning look. Everyone understood the reasoning behind it without needing to be told.
Udir opposite him smiled:
"Naturally." As he spoke, he even respectfully bowed to Alisa: "Miss Daniel will receive the respect she deserves here."
Joey furrowed his brows slightly, always feeling that Udir's polite formalities were somewhat excessive.
All signs indicated that Alisa not only hadn't suffered the slightest grievance here, but instead seemed like a young lady of high status, while Udir was merely her servant.
"Joey, this place is so interesting! There are so many things I've never seen inside, it's so much fun."
Alisa was like an innocent young girl who didn't care about her own plight in the slightest. She pulled Joey deeper inside, took two turns, and a large patch of lush vegetation suddenly appeared before their eyes.
The corners of Joey's mouth twitched unnaturally, and he cast an inadvertent glance at Udir following behind.
Not bad at all, hiding things so deeply. How come I didn't notice there were so many treasures here last time I came? Joey thought with vexation.
Udir and Joey were like two obedient servants following behind Alisa, listening to her chattering away.
After a while, perhaps growing tired of walking, Alisa went back to rest, leaving only Joey and Udir behind, and the atmosphere instantly quieted down.
A table, two cups of tea, four eyes meeting.
"Udir, I suppose your purpose isn't just as simple as the seed, right?"
Udir, sitting opposite, gave a soft "oh" and watched Joey with an interested, examining gaze, not answering, but waiting for what came next.
"Did you figure out her identity?" Joey asked tentatively.
Udir, who had been silent all this while, suddenly had his gaze freeze. The expression on his face rapidly tightened, and an inexplicable murderous intent abruptly emerged, firmly locking onto Joey.
Joey instantly felt an inexplicable chill spread all over his body, and he was secretly startled in his heart: Udir is definitely not Sequence 8.
After about a moment, that chill dissipated.
Udir spoke in a grave tone.
"Daniel is a surname of the imperial nobility, surely you know that? Did you think you could live in peace just by dyeing her hair?"
Fine! It turned out he had been careless after all. However, there was one thing Udir could never have guessed: Alisa was not a real person, but a marionette.
"Don't you think this country is sick? Even if we exhaust all our strength, we are still nothing more than playthings in the hands of the nobles. Don't you want to change it and overthrow those hypocritical nobles?"
The more Udir spoke, the more excited he became, even starting to gesticulate wildly, the expression on his face gradually twisting and distorting.
"Why is it that they are born nobles while we can only be slaves? This is unfair, and unfairness should be overthrown! 'Hope' is our chance; as long as we capture the support of the common people, we can gain a force comparable to the Imperial Knights."
"Don't you want to trample those high-and-mighty people under your feet?"
Udir passionately and eloquently painted a blueprint of the future, as if in the next moment he would become a noble and turn the tables to become the master.
Joey had to admire the greed of human nature. Changing a person really was that simple.
"You aren't touching Alisa because you want to prop her up as a puppet?"
Udir nodded as if it were only natural.
"The people of Senegal are pedantic. Having been oppressed for so long, they have long since lost the courage to resist. The banner of rebellion cannot be raised."
Joey furrowed his brows in deep thought. The facts were indeed as he said; setting aside the fact that the Daniel family had ruled Senegal for countless years, just those high-sequence Transcendents alone were not something ordinary people could contend against.
Although those high-ranking figures no longer bothered themselves with imperial affairs, there was one thing they would never let go of: legitimacy.
"You should go back first. Do not contact me for a short while; I will notify you when I have prepared everything."
After sending Joey away, Udir leaned sideways on a soft couch, staring unblinkingly at the incandescent lamp overhead. He was pondering how to give an account to that person in the inner city.
Only after walking out of the farm's perimeter did Joey set his mind at ease. Alisa's matter was considered resolved; at least for the short term, she would not face any danger.
Now it was time to consider his own affairs.
He kept Old Tony's revenge in his mind every single moment.
The Necromancer Sect deserved to die, and Katrin was no exception. If not for her, those subsequent events wouldn't have happened.
The difficulty lay in the fact that the Necromancer Sect were all a bunch of rats hiding in the sewers whom he simply couldn't reach, while Katrin's background and identity were complex, making him dare not make a move. Even if he did dare, he might not even win in a fight.
Is there any way to make them fight among themselves? Joey thought bitterly.
Forget it, I'd better investigate Katrin's identity first!
The Adventurers' Bar had always been the gathering place with the fastest sources of information. Joey ordered a glass of lemon water, found a seat, and sat down by himself.
He was probably the first person to come to a bar and not order alcohol. Alcohol was a luxury item in Senegal; due to a shortage of raw materials, most of the alcohol circulating in the market was some sort of beer. In Joey's words, it was no different from diluted drinks at KTVs, and he couldn't get used to drinking it at all. It was far better to clear his head with lemon water.
Thinking it would take some effort, he hadn't expected it to be quite easy to gather information regarding Katrin's family.
'Winter'
One of the twelve imperial noble families, and Katrin Winter was even a direct descendant of the family.
Joey narrowed his eyes halfway, a trace of lingering fear leaking through his black pupils. Fortunately, he hadn't acted rashly. With this kind of backing and background, no wonder even the Necromancer Sect hadn't dared to move against her rashly.
In the days that followed, Joey worked hard to adapt to his new identity and integrate into his new life.
In the West Borough, on Ninth Street, inside a quaint old-style row house, Joey opened his own front door.
There was no warm greeting from "Old Man," no playful response from Alisa. The empty house held only the cold wind pouring in through the windows.
The salary of the Survey Corps was quite decent, enough for him to rent a new house.
"Mr. Keliwei, I cooked some pumpkin rice porridge. Would you like to try some?"
The speaker was the landlady, Naomi Jeff. The entire row of houses here was the inheritance left by her husband. It was said that her husband's status in the past was not low, and the assets he left behind were enough for her to live comfortably without worry for the rest of her life.
The women of Senegal were bold and generous. When they encountered a man they liked, they wouldn't be reserved, instead pursuing him openly-not caring about status, age, or even gender.
Before Joey could reply, she added another sentence:
"I seem to have cooked a bit too much, I can't finish it all by myself."
Even though Joey boasted of having conquered countless women, he still found this somewhat difficult to handle, but he still replied politely:
"Mrs. Jeff, thank you for your kindness, but I'm sorry, I've already eaten."
He stepped inside and began changing his shoes.
Naomi bent down to help him place the shoes he had taken off onto the shoe rack, just like a little wife waiting for her husband to return home. She cast a glance full of spring-like affection, and then said in a soft, sweet voice:
"Mr. Keliwei, you can call me by my name, Naomi."
With that, without waiting for Joey to reply, she scurried away in a flurry of small steps.
Joey deeply gazed at that retreating figure, turned around to close the door, wearing an expression of lingering fear.
That really was lethal; a fully ripened apple was indeed tempting.
Joey shook his head, banishing those chaotic thoughts from his mind.
Although Naomi Jeff was already a married woman, she was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight, right at the age when a woman's charm was at its peak. Coupled with her fixed assets, she had numerous suitors.
This damned, unplaceable charm of mine.
Joey muttered to himself as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.
By the window stood a rocking chair that Joey had bought specifically. He liked lying on it, looking up at the sunless sky.
It did rain in Senegal as well, but it was a corrosive mutated acid rain. Prolonged contact would burn the skin, and at this moment, a sparse, light drizzle was beginning to fall outside.
His thoughts whirled, his memory returning to his conversation with Vade Wisker.
The Creator awoke from the chaos; He was blind, foolish, and His splitting formed the universe. All matter originates from that Creator.
In other words, whether it was the universe, the starry sky, the ocean, humans, or mutated beasts, everything shared the same ancestral origin. During the Calamity Era—that is, the First Epoch—humans were extremely weak and could only be reduced to food for mutated beasts.
Through the exploration of their predecessors, humans ultimately mastered the ability to communicate with gods and found a way to obtain extraordinary abilities: through the flesh and blood of mutated beasts, magical trees, vegetation, and monsters, which were concocted into potions. Ingesting them allowed one to acquire different abilities.
After all, the sources for obtaining potions were mutated beasts and demonic monsters. Even after turning into potions, their spiritual energy would still remain. This energy would distort and affect those who ingested the potions, mildly causing people to go mad, and severely causing them to mutate into mindless mythical creatures.
To become a Transcendent, one had to endure the side effects brought by the potions. If one was even the slightest bit careless, accidents would occur. The side effects could only be worn away and consumed through time; only by completely digesting them could one advance to the next rank.
The light drizzle outside the window was still falling in a patter, and the sky gradually darkened. The sudden drop in temperature made Joey shiver involuntarily.
"Fortune Teller, what a truly miraculous Sequence!" he muttered to himself.
Ingesting a potion, especially a potion without auxiliary ingredients, would result in death at best, and at worst, turning into a bloodthirsty, mindless mythical creature.
Yet, he was right here, safe and sound. All of this was thanks to that tiny bit of luck: because of luck, he had become a Transcendent; and because of luck, he had avoided fatal bullets and fully digested the potion's side effects.
Compared to others, who would take anywhere from three to five years down to one or two years to digest the medicinal properties of a potion, the time he had spent didn't even amount to a fraction of theirs.
"So, they were called Ancient Gods!"
After joining the Survey Corps, he had the authority to view some secret texts regarding Senegal, and he also learned of the title "Ancient Gods."
The Ancient Sun God worshipped in Senegal was an Ancient God, and the one who served as the pillar of the ocean was also an Ancient God.
"What on earth happened in the Second Epoch?"
He had inexplicably appeared in this world, feeling as if he were deep inside a massive fog.
Of course, what he most wanted to know was the method to leave Senegal.
Living in the twenty-first century, one could hop on a flight and reach the other side of the planet, but Senegal literally had the area of just a single tribe. As long as one didn't encounter mutated beasts, taking an aircraft allowed one to traverse the entire territory in at most a month. This place was simply too small.
Low sequences were too weak; in the face of major events, they were like ants, unable to even resist firearms, let alone mutated Night Demons and monsters.
He had to at least become a mid-sequence Transcendent to have the ability to step into the depths of the darkness.
Joey's thoughts turned rapidly, and his consciousness had already arrived above the Gray Fog. He stood within the great hall, his gaze piercing through layers of the gray fog to stare directly at that Sky-Piercing Pillar.
The pictographic characters on it clearly combined into a passage of text, a potion formula: 'Fortune Shifter'.
Analyzed from its name, it was still a sequence devoid of combat power.
"This potion formula only appeared after Helena showed up. In other words, as long as I continue pulling people in, I can obtain a complete sequence's potion formula."
Then the problem arose: as everyone knew, Transcendents were divided into nine sequences, from nine to zero. There were twelve chairs in the great hall, and those three extra positions could not be explained.
Could there be advancement sequences beyond Sequence 0? Joey could only think this way.
"Forget it, why think about so much?"
Wanting to deal with the Necromancer Sect and Katrin was completely unrealistic at Sequence 9.
His burning gaze fixed intently on the description of the Fortune Shifter's abilities on the pillar.
'Transfer, graft a portion of one's luck.'
The ability description was very simple, even appearing completely useless. If one thought that way, they would be severely underestimating the power of Sequence 8.
Just imagine, when playing Russian roulette with a revolver, whose head that final bullet would end up blowing off.
As long as it was operated properly, even a low-sequence Beyonder had the possibility of killing a powerful enemy.
"Katrin, wash your neck and wait for me!"
In the empty hall, only Joey's sinister voice echoed.