Chapter Thirty-Seven: Get Out of Here

At the mouth of the valley, the Silver City merchant caravan had set up camp and spent the night. It was now midday, and the traces of last night’s encampment remained clear on the ground; several campfires had only recently been extinguished.

Inside an armored vehicle, the driver idly scrolled through his phone, skimming through a few newly released novels—each spinning the same old tale of a post-apocalyptic protagonist who acquires a system and ultimately saves the world in godlike fashion.

“If only the system was one of those guys, then I’d believe it,” he muttered, glancing absently at the rearview mirror. Deputy Manager Xie was reclined in the back seat, eyes half-closed.

Just as the driver considered striking up some small talk, Xie Bo abruptly pushed open the car door and stepped out, standing in the middle of the road.

This was the only passage in or out of the valley, now dilapidated and barely passable.

“If only someone would fix this road,” the driver mused. Then he noticed, in the distance, a tiny figure approaching... Wait, that looked familiar. Wasn’t that the old servant they’d just sold yesterday? Even if it was only a trial period, how could he have escaped and returned already? The Guild had sold thousands of servants and not a single client had ever reported one running away. As for returns, that was unheard of—no client had ever said their purchase was unsatisfactory.

He rolled down the window and craned his neck to take a better look. The distant figure seemed to notice the caravan as well, hesitating before trying to dart toward the mountainside.

Idiot, do you really think you can climb out over the mountains? the driver sneered. Sure enough, he watched as Manager Xie, who had just gotten out, snapped his fingers and said a word. The man in the distance turned around, first walking, then accelerating into a run back toward them.

About ten minutes later, the would-be escapee, an old man, arrived before Manager Xie, panting and utterly despairing.

“Fool, why didn’t you kill both the man and the dog?” Xie Bo’s voice was cold and sinister. “With your abilities, you could have done it easily. If you’d done that, congratulations—you’d have become our new business partner, not a commodity bound by contract.”

He clicked his tongue in regret. “What a pity. I never thought you’d make the most foolish choice possible. Even if you’d stayed and worked, it’d be better than running away like this.”

The driver stuck his neck out and added, “Manager, it’s because this old man lacks wisdom!”

Xie Bo shot him a frosty glare. The driver shrank back into the vehicle, but he wasn’t truly afraid—after all, the Guild had strict rules: no internal killings among official staff.

Chef He lowered his head for a long time before finally speaking. “Did you already anticipate I would run?”

“No. I actually thought you’d become the master of that shelter. That’s why I waited a day, hoping for a chance at another big deal,” Xie Bo said helplessly, spreading his hands. “It’s rare to find someone both cautious and clever, and yet you let yourself be bound by a mere iron sphere. That thing has no intelligence; it couldn’t possibly restrain you. All you had to do was kill the man and the dog, then enshrine the ball afterward, and you wouldn’t be in breach of contract.”

“And you!” He nearly kicked the chef, but restrained himself, assuming a professional demeanor. “A mortal is just a mortal—you made the most foolish decision. You wanted to harm no one, to redeem yourself, but in the end you achieved nothing. I order you to return to the caravan immediately.”

“No,” Chef He suddenly raised the iron sphere. “I am still the servant of Mr. Iron Ball! You have no right to order me.”

“No, you’re still within your trial period, and the Guild still owns you. If Mr. Iron Ball could move, or speak, or if its master were present, our Silver Merchants’ Guild—renowned for respecting clients and even potential clients—would never touch you. But it’s just a lifeless object, and you’ve betrayed our potential client, so…”

Just as Xie Bo said this, the iron ball in Chef He’s hand gave a sudden hop, dropped to the solid ground, bounced twice, then desperately rolled back the way it had come...

Xiao Bai, indignant, thought, Outrageous! Da Bai, you’re useless! I was only asleep for a moment and you couldn’t even watch a ball!

She’d hoped to gain a free servant and bolster their backup force, but nearly lost one instead. Fortunately, she was a ball and retained enough strength to roll herself back—otherwise, she truly would have been helpless.

A glimmer of hope shone in Chef He’s eyes. He immediately turned and chased after the iron sphere.

“Master Iron Ball, please roll a bit slower! Wait for your loyal servant!”

Xie Bo stared in confusion as the man and the ball receded into the distance.

The driver poked his head out again. “Manager, it seems your wisdom glitched out back there…”

Xie Bo quickly recovered his composure, smiled faintly, and turned to reply, “Foolish. Do you really think everything I just said was true?”

“If not, was it some kind of performance?” the driver grumbled. “That look of dazed helplessness of yours didn’t seem fake.”

“It was acting,” Xie Bo retorted with confidence. “My earlier theory is now proven: the mysterious benevolent force Lang Wei encountered not only exists, but it’s tied to that rolling iron ball.”

The driver was dumbfounded, needing a moment to process. “Manager, I don’t really understand…”

“Fool. I mentioned this before we arrived,” Xie Bo snapped, settling back into the armored car with some impatience, but still explaining. “According to my calculations, there was a 77.4% chance the old man would murder the man and the dog, a 21.5% chance he’d stay, and just a 1.1% chance he’d run. Yet he picked the least likely option, which means he was influenced by that benevolent force, prompting him to make the only choice that harmed neither side, yet was the worst for himself.”

“Manager, your foresight is truly unmatched. This is exactly what people mean when they speak of a wise man’s thousand calculations,” the driver gushed, recalling how only the manager had questioned Lang Wei’s sudden desire to do good, while everyone else mocked him. Now it all made sense—he was genuinely impressed. He’d never have guessed that a simple contract loophole and a runaway servant would hide so much intrigue.

No wonder the manager had risen from driver to executive, while he himself was stuck as a mere driver.

“All right, get us moving,” Xie Bo ordered. “We have another deal to make, and we need to recoup the investment from this one.”

“We’ll definitely succeed, Manager. Your wisdom is as boundless as the stars.”

Xie Bo’s face darkened, but he said nothing.

The driver looked up and realized it was still daylight, already afternoon. He hurried to start the engine, shattering the awkward silence. One by one, the caravan rumbled to life and finally departed the valley.

...

Back at the shelter, Da Bai was frantically sniffing about, crashing into walls and unable to find a direction.

“Master, Xiao Bai is missing, and so is Little Iron Ball. Even my mysterious sense of smell can’t find them—they must’ve been stolen by that wicked old man.”

“Master, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have slept so deeply. Xiao Bai clearly asked me to keep an eye on Little Iron Ball.” Da Bai rolled on the floor, wailing miserably.

Fan Bei did his best to soothe her. “It’s all right. Let’s check the surveillance footage. Even if that chef managed to erase his scent, he probably didn’t have time to tamper with our recordings.”

Judging by his age, he probably wasn’t adept with computers, let alone professional security systems. Unless he’d destroyed the hardware outright, but that didn’t seem like something he’d do.

Da Bai, still dejected, followed Fan Bei to the control room. Fan Bei quickly pulled up the surveillance logs, while Da Bai watched intently, sprawled across the desk.

He soon found footage from midday, tracking Chef He’s movements all the way to about fifty meters from the main gate.

“Master, I’ll go fetch Xiao Bai right away. You stay here and wait for news,” Da Bai rallied; there was only one road out of the valley, and the old man couldn’t possibly outrun her while carrying a heavy iron ball.

“Wait a moment—there’s something going on outside.” Fan Bei, watching the playback, noticed movement on the live feed.

A small iron ball was rapidly rolling toward the shelter’s main gate, with a panting old man limping behind.

“Look, your Little Iron Ball, and Xiao Bai—they’ve both rolled back!” Fan Bei exclaimed in surprise.