Chapter 86: The Rice

“That’s the one in the suit, acting all proper—the only one here who fits the bill.” Little White stared at Xie Bo as he spoke.

“Understood. Senior, please wait for my news.”

Hearing this, Big White whispered to Little White, “Where’d you get ten thousand points of mental strength? As far as I remember, the mental cores we found were either given to our master or temporarily kept by Butler Huo. You’re flat broke.”

“Exactly, I don’t have it. I was just bluffing,” Little White replied with conviction. “That’s how humans do things.”

Big White immediately knelt in resignation.

“Don’t get the wrong idea—I’m teaching you from personal experience. Aside from your master’s words and mine, don’t trust a single thing anyone else says,” Little White quickly corrected.

“I get it. Sigh… Only my master would never lie to me,” Big White said glumly.

After lunch, Xie Bo was still nowhere to be seen. An assistant captain took charge, organizing work shifts for the group; those who’d worked in the morning were allowed to rest in the afternoon.

Once again, the mysterious voice appeared in Big White’s mind.

“Senior, I’ve finished the job. Time to pay up.”

“So efficient? He’s at least a Silver-ranked expert with a mysterious backer,” Little White said, incredulous, but after sensing the surroundings, indeed, there was no sign of Xie Bo.

“A mere worthless Silver dares seek treasure on our turf—like lighting a lamp in a latrine…” the mysterious voice sneered. “No matter how powerful his patron is, they can’t control everyone, much less us.”

“Fine, wait a couple of days. I’ll confirm the news first,” Little White replied earnestly.

“Very well, Senior. Please confirm carefully,” the mysterious voice responded, full of confidence.

Big White hesitated. “Shouldn’t we pay him? He’s so powerful—if he causes trouble for our master, that would be bad.”

“No wonder you’ll never accomplish anything. You’re too timid. How do you expect to succeed if you’re scared of everything?” Little White said with disdain.

“So what do you suggest, then?”

“I said, wait two days—let’s confirm first.”

“I have a feeling your ‘two days’ will keep turning into two more.”

“Hm, you’re not dumb after all. You saw right through that trick.”

…

Phoenix Song Valley.

Fan Bei returned once more to the grove of white poplars to continue honing his Mist Armor. He found that training was more effective outdoors, and it sharpened his alertness and adaptability to the environment.

After all, having hidden away in the shelter for over a decade, he was still somewhat unaccustomed to the outside world.

During breaks, he would lean against a great poplar, close his eyes, and rest. In reality, his mind would enter his consciousness to communicate with the “System Father.”

Since binding with it, he no longer needed to focus his eyes on a particular spot, and no one could detect anything unusual.

“Huh, Little White’s quite efficient,” he mused.

He then witnessed the entire conversation between the dog, the orb, and the mysterious voice.

Xie Bo had targeted him repeatedly, probing again and again. It was inevitable Fan Bei would strike back—first Chef He, then the Liu brothers, and finally Wu Zicheng.

Three times was enough. With the latest incident, he could see the situation clearly and make his decision.

In this world, conflict was the main theme, whether one was strong or weak, whether one sought a quiet life or harbored great ambition.

From Lang Sheng, he’d learned that Xie Bo and Li Xing were the radicals within the Silver Chamber of Commerce. Removing them would make life much easier.

As for the chamber as a whole, he had no particular plans yet—after all, it maintained a semblance of order, which suited his current needs.

“Could that guy be lying to me?” Fan Bei wondered after reviewing the recorded exchange. He wouldn’t rest easy until he was sure Xie Bo was dead.

With that thought, he sent a directive to the butler system page of Lin Zhongqing.

He’d discovered early on that he could communicate with any system he’d deployed through the book’s pages. Whether activating hidden options or conducting maintenance, it was all possible.

“Confirm Xie Bo’s cause of death. If he’s alive, kill him. Don’t reveal yourself.”

Previously, the system’s intelligence was limited, so it could only compel hosts to act via strict tasks. Now, with increased intelligence, Fan Bei was confident that a single order would suffice.

After all, the systems he’d sent out were, at their core, products of his own creation—they would still obey their developer.

A prompt flashed on the page.

“Request accepted. Butler system now executing.”

Excellent. Fan Bei felt reassured. This meant his room to maneuver had just expanded greatly.

As he pondered, a gentle breeze brushed his ears. Suddenly, the Mist Armor flared to life, stopping a wild rabbit that had strayed within ten meters of him.

The rabbit seemed to have run into a wall of cotton, or fallen into a mire—its legs were stuck fast.

Fan Bei opened his eyes. The “Heavenly King Jade Control Art” truly lived up to its reputation as an advanced technique; one of its mental control skills automatically triggered a defense whenever a foreign object entered a preset radius.

He dismissed the Mist Armor, letting the rabbit escape.

He would never eat unfamiliar wild game—this was the wasteland, after all. Who knew if the rabbit had mutated?

…

In the mist-shrouded river valley, Lin Zhongqing, Li Xing, and several other experts walked along a newly cleared path through the fog, with Xie Bo among them—alive and well, without a scratch.

Before and behind them, people with sprayers worked to clear the way.

In such dense, mystically charged fog, losing the path was a matter of minutes—and what happened after getting lost was easy to imagine.

“We’re almost there,” Li Xing said, pointing ahead. “At this point, there’s no need to keep this secret.”

Lin Zhongqing smiled slightly. “I admit, I’m curious—what’s the purpose of such a large, secret operation?”

“It’s a rice plant—more precisely, a mutated rice with its own intelligence,” Li Xing replied excitedly. “This is a direct order from the big boss.”

“I see,” Lin Zhongqing said in sudden realization. He’d heard from the butler that the Silver Chamber planned to build an agricultural city; now everything clicked into place.

The purpose of this secret operation was to lay the foundation for the agricultural city.

He hadn’t expected their ambitions to be so great. He’d assumed they were developing large-scale indoor agriculture with technology, not that they’d already ventured into the mysterious realm of sentient crops.

Normally, plants had no intelligence and grew by instinct, requiring humans to laboriously modify them to suit their needs.

Crops, in truth, were fragile—needing fertilizer, pesticides, intensive care—without which high yields were impossible.

But if a crop had intelligence, combined with the advantages of indoor agriculture—such as closed environments that exclude pests—growth could explode exponentially.

The rice could concentrate most of its nutrients in the grains, rather than wasting them on leaves and stems, easily achieving several times the usual yield!

Compared to the grains, the stems and leaves consumed far more nutrients.