Chapter 43: Little Pink Chicken Wants Reward to Eliminate Difficulties.
“Of course.” Ifrora’s fingertips grazed the magic array patterns in his hair, her pink nails glinting eerily under the candlelight. “But as this mission’s supervisor, I have the right to withhold part of your reward—after all, a certain someone destroyed plenty of Phoenix family magic tools during the chase.”
“What? Since when were you the supervisor?” Flo felt a bad omen…
“When I heard Mr. Goblin took this mission, I specifically requested the Adventurer’s Guild to make me supervisor~”
Seriously? She wasn’t even an adventurer—how?
But seeing the Phoenix crest on her dress, Flo got it.
Damn connections! He’d report her!
But to whom? In Phoenix County, Miss Phoenix could strut anywhere…
The clink of coins came from the counter. The receptionist adjusted her black-rimmed glasses. “Flo Astreya, mission reward: 20 gold coins, minus… 15 for handling fees.”
“What?!” Flo’s voice echoed through the domed hall. Ifrora propped her chin, grinning like a cat that caught the canary.
As expected, that rotten Pink Chicken was up to no good! 15 gold? That’s three-quarters of his reward!
Ifrora’s fingers idly twirled her cherry-red hair, candlelight dancing mischievously in her eyes. The heavy clunk of 15 gold coins hitting a leather pouch nearly dragged it to the floor.
“Handling fees include intelligence support, mental distress, and…” She leaned close to Flo’s ear. “Supervisor’s special service fee~”
“What did you even do?!”
Flo knew every word, but together? Gibberish.
“And what’s this mental distress nonsense? Shouldn’t you be paying me for that?!”
Ifrora produced a list, her finger tracing the gilded title “Supervisor’s Special Service Fee.” Her Aegean-blue skirt brushed Flo’s arm as adventurers whispered around them. “Mr. Goblin, didn’t I save your life at the orphanage~?”
Flo glared at the astronomical figure on the list, grinding his teeth.
Shady—too shady! She’d fit right in with Yanlu! Why was he meeting crooks all day?
“Mr. Goblin doesn’t have to pay…” Ifrora trailed off, baiting him perfectly. It might not work on others, but Flo? His face flushed, heart racing.
“Pink Chicken… I mean, Miss Ifrora, name your terms! I’ll do it!” Dignity? Victory? Screw it—his attitude turned humble.
Kidding? 15 gold coins! Pride wasn’t worth that. One gold could feed a family for a month!
Ifrora bloomed with a smile, leaning so close her warm breath tickled his ear.
What was with this Pink Chicken, always getting so close? Flo was stumped.
“Be my… slave for a day, how’s that?” Her voice was enchanting, sultry yet natural, tickling not just his ears but his heart.
He couldn’t handle this! If not for… certain reasons, and years of knowing her, he’d pull out the third attack style from that soul-like game he played in his past life.
What style? Pole stance!
But Flo hardened—his fists, that is!
“Don’t push it, Pink Chicken! A warrior can die but not be humiliated. A true man stands tall, not groveling!”
“Oh? So resistant, Mr. Goblin? Being a beautiful girl’s slave isn’t a reward~?”
“Calling yourself a beauty? Really? And I’m not a pervert!”
Flo’s ears burned red enough to bleed. He noticed adventurers’ glances drifting their way—well, they never really stopped…
A few dwarves in leather armor elbowed each other, snickering.
Why dwarves? Kangkela Empire welcomed all human-friendly races—elves, dwarves, beastmen, you name it.
“Wait!” Flo slammed the counter, ink bottles rippling. “Mission contract, Article Seven: Supervisors can’t exploit their authority to dock rewards!” He pulled a crumpled parchment from his tattered armor, finger sliding over the terms. “Here—‘All fees must be disclosed in advance and signed by both parties’!”
Ifrora’s smile froze, her heels grinding the floor. The receptionist coughed violently, flipping through the ledger, yellowed pages rustling.
“Ahem… the special service fee is…” Her voice drowned in the adventurers’ clamor. A team of sword-wielding elves and humans burst through the door.
They swaggered in, heads high, their arrogance irking the seated adventurers. But what could they do? These guys had real strength.
“Where’s the counter? Don’t just stand there!” an elf youth barked, full of himself.
Ifrora, interrupted, glared at him like he was trash.
The receptionist hurried over, her face tense with danger but wearing a professional smile. “Honored members of Justice Fist, how may I assist?”
The youth smirked, slapping a task slip and materials on the oak counter.
“Here for the reward. A-rank mission? No big deal!”
His teammates stayed silent, seemingly annoyed. His behavior was dragging Justice Fist’s name down…
But they didn’t stop him. Better one fool take the blame for arrogance, right? Cut him loose later, call it “individual behavior”—perfect plan.
Birds of a feather, though…
“Settle it quick! Submitting a task and seeing a half-elf mongrel? Bad luck!” The youth glanced at Flo, spitting like he’d seen something vile.
“An A-rank? Thought it was S-rank with that attitude…”
A female voice rang through the hall, silencing everyone instantly…