In the depths of his consciousness, Liu Zheng seemed to hear that endless chanting once more.

"Golden Mead can help me?"

He asked.

"It can."

White Feather Chicken stated with certainty.

"Fine, I'll go."

Liu Zheng agreed.

He still had to remain in this world for a long time, and might need to use the Sick Leave Note again—there would be too many opportunities to lose sanity.

"You're too weak right now. Going out would only embarrass the restaurant."

White Feather Chicken shook its head at him dramatically.

Then why are you making me go?

Liu Zheng curled his lip.

What choice did he have? He couldn't ask Novelist to place another fake delivery order, could he?

White Feather Chicken paced over to a separate knife rack and retrieved a Western-style chef's knife.

"I'll lend you this for now. I hope it returns well-fed."

It reversed the grip and handed the knife to Liu Zheng.

"Name: Gluttony"

"Type: Equipment"

"Quality: Perfect"

"Effect 1: Ingredients cut by this chef's knife will restore to their optimal state (limited to Fine quality and below)."

"Effect 2: Enemies struck by the knife will have parts equivalent to their appetite devoured."

"Effect 3: When the chef's knife is satiated, the player can transform into a 'Gluttony Demon' for one minute."

"Note: If it tastes good, eat more."

"Can be taken out of dungeon: Yes"

This knife... why does it look so familiar?

Liu Zheng glanced at Bullhorse's chest, lost in thought.

After they stole the Vlad III Limited Edition that time, wasn't this exactly the knife stuck in its chest?

"What are you looking at? Keep staring and I'll smash your head in."

Bullhorse raised its hoof threateningly.

"Tch."

You don't mind getting stabbed by others, but you mind me mentioning it.

"Salmon, you go too. You're only responsible for inspecting ingredients. Let these two handle negotiations and fighting."

White Feather Chicken said to Calico Cat.

"Okay, meow."

Calico Cat jumped down from the stool and came to their side.

"I think it's probably better at fighting than I am."

Liu Zheng sighed.

"Vegetable-washing paws aren't meant for grabbing people."

White Feather Chicken said coldly.

Despite being just a chicken, it currently displayed the imposing manner of an emperor.

The emperor of the kitchen.

He couldn't help but feel somewhat impressed.

"Don't believe its boasting. These guys were all desperate outlaws originally—they've killed more people than you've delivered meals."

Bullhorse revealed the truth.

"You talk too much. Go receive the goods now."

White Feather Chicken turned and walked away, leaving them with a dashing silhouette.

"The whole restaurant—it puts on the biggest act."

Bullhorse shook its head and led the human and cat toward the kitchen's exit passage.

Unlike the absolute darkness of the delivery passage, the kitchen passage was spacious and bright, with marble tiles covering the floor.

Faintly, Liu Zheng could even smell incense.

White Feather Chicken turned and walked away, leaving them with a dashing silhouette.

He couldn't help but complain.

"What do you know? They use incense to cover up because they stink. They crave being in the light because their hearts are dark."

Bullhorse replied in a recitative tone.

Liu Zheng couldn't help but look at it with newfound respect.

This guy usually spouted vulgar language, but unexpectedly could say such philosophical things.

"Wow, you've read Bai Langzi's poetry too, meow."

Calico Cat interjected.

"Bai Langzi?"

This name sounded familiar too.

Oh, right—wasn't this the author of that poetry manuscript Bullhorse gave him?

Liu Zheng took out the Snakefolk Poetry Manuscript and indeed found the two lines Bullhorse had just quoted.

He looked strangely at Bullhorse, who wore a guilty expression.

"Let's go, let's go. Why talk about poetry during work? How vulgar."

It strode forward, swinging its hooves.

Liu Zheng and Calico Cat exchanged smiles and quickly followed.

Soon, they exited the passage.

Outside, dusk had already fallen.

The dark red sun hung dying while the blood-red moon watched threateningly.

In the shadows of a nearby corner, several figures wearing linen cloaks and iron masks stood silently.

Bullhorse didn't approach directly but instead drew a quarter-circle in the air.

An iron-masked figure emerged from the shadows and responded by similarly drawing a quarter-circle.

"It's them. Let's go over."

Bullhorse said.

"Are you familiar with them?"

Liu Zheng asked curiously.

"Familiar? Oh, we're very familiar. They're the ones who sold me to the restaurant originally."

Bullhorse laughed coldly.

Hearing this, Liu Zheng felt slightly suspicious. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on novel⟡fire.net

He remembered Bullhorse saying that both it and Oink came from the breeding farm.

The breeding farm sounded like a legitimate channel, which clearly didn't match these people's appearance.

Liu Zheng filed the question away in his mind, planning to ask about it later when he had the chance.

The two groups approached each other and met in the middle of the road.

For smuggling activities, this was honestly a bit too open and bold.

"This is the shipment for this time."

The lead iron-masked person pointed to a wooden crate nearby.

His accent was somewhat strange—a bit Latin with a slight trill.

His mask was also different from the others, featuring a cross with a quarter-circle in each quadrant.

Liu Zheng secretly observed the other masked people—the most any of them had was two quarter-circles.

"Garcia, you've really made something of yourself—already become a High Priest."

Bullhorse's tone carried heavy sarcasm.

"Because I have offered all my pain to my Lord."

Garcia said calmly.

"Other people's pain, you mean?"

Bullhorse said coldly.

"One is all, all is one. Your pain and mine are no different. When the appointed day comes, we shall all become the wax for our Lord."

Garcia extended his hand and drew a quarter-circle on his iron mask.

"Hallowed be our Lord."

"Hallowed be our Lord."

......

All the iron-masked people chanted devoutly.

"Go burn yourselves. A false god who can't even deliver gospel—what savior are you pretending to be?"

Bullhorse said without any courtesy.

"Sigh."

Liu Zheng sighed quietly and tightened his grip on the chef's knife.

Although White Feather Chicken told them to pick a fight, wasn't this escalation a bit too fast?

At least inspect the goods first.

But contrary to Liu Zheng's expectations, even after being insulted so directly to their faces, the iron-masked people showed no intention of turning hostile—they didn't even offer a rebuttal.

They simply watched Bullhorse quietly, like statues.

"Pah. Let's deliver the goods."

After several minutes of standoff, Bullhorse spat on the ground and spoke.

"Very well."

Garcia made a gesture, and several iron-masked people carried the wooden crate before Bullhorse.

Judging by their difficult steps and trembling bodies, the contents of the wooden crate were clearly extremely heavy.

"Thud!"

The iron-masked people released their grip, and the wooden crate crashed to the ground.

Even a granite block of the same volume wouldn't have made such an impact.

Liu Zheng couldn't help but grow curious.

"This is the manifest."

Garcia took out a piece of paper and handed it to Bullhorse.

"Show it to him."

Bullhorse jerked its chin toward Liu Zheng.

Garcia said nothing but turned and offered it to Liu Zheng instead.

Then he scrutinized Liu Zheng intently for several moments.

"Sir, have you received the gospel of an eldritch god?"

"Indeed."

Liu Zheng nodded.

It seemed Mr. Li's cleanup wasn't thorough either—anyone could tell.

"How fascinating, how fascinating."

Garcia's tone carried a hint of excitement.

"Could you spare some time, sir? I would like to introduce you to our Heavenly Father and Savior."

"The great Circle God."