In a back alley off the northern main street, a peculiar man leaned against a wall, holding a newspaper in one hand as if waiting for someone. What made him peculiar?
You’d have to ask him why, in broad daylight, he was wearing a red plastic bucket over his head.
He had even poked two crude holes in it—presumably to see.
“Ah, ah, ah, isn’t that Brother Ge Yi? Finally decided to show up?”
When the man spotted the green-haired brute limping into view, he let out a distorted laugh that echoed strangely inside the bucket, making the already ridiculous sound even more absurd.
“Cut the crap. Where’s the stuff?”
The green-haired man, Ge Yi, rolled his eyes at the bucket-headed freak.
He clearly wasn’t here to chat and immediately urged him to hand over the goods.
If Sheffil were present, he’d immediately recognize this “Ge Yi” as the leader of the group of seven unlucky thugs who had mugged him just days ago.
“No need to be so cold. Fate brought us together, didn’t it? Why don’t we grab a seat at that restaurant over there? They give out free boiled water.”
“You may not feel embarrassed, but I do. Now hand over the goods.”
Ge Yi groaned, already regretting this meeting.
He knew this guy really would pull such shameless stunts.
“Here’s what you wanted.”
He pulled out a set of photos and stuffed them into the red-bucket-headed man’s hands.
“Perfect, absolutely perfect. This is exactly what I needed. Ge Yi, you’re incredible—I might just fall in love with you.”
The bucket-head flipped through the photos one by one, his eyes behind the peepholes practically drooling over every inch of the images.
His voice dripped with sleaze, sending waves of revulsion down Ge Yi’s spine.
Goosebumps exploded across his arms.
“Alright, now give me Miss Dorothy’s photo set like you promised.”
“Of course, of course. No need to worry, Mister Ge Yi. We merchants pride ourselves on our trustworthiness.”
With a flourish, the bucket-head stashed away the photos and handed over the newspaper-like package he’d been clutching.
Ge Yi snatched it immediately, checked the contents, and confirmed that it was indeed a rare Dorothy art collection.
Satisfied, he gave a curt nod.
“Hmph. At least you kept your word. I’m out of here.”
Truthfully, Ge Yi wanted nothing more to do with this creep.
But after getting beat up by that black-haired bastard, he’d spent a fortune on medical bills and was short on cash.
With several of his brothers back home depending on him to deliver Dorothy energy packs, and after hearing rumors that this red-bucket-headed freak could make certain “wishes” come true in exchange for photos, Ge Yi figured he might as well give it a shot.
To his surprise, it worked.
All he had to do was take photos of certain people—most of whom were total nobodies—and the guy willingly handed over a collector’s edition Dorothy art set.
The task was so ridiculously easy that even Ge Yi, who never passed up a chance to cut corners, began to feel this might be some kind of massive trap.
One more job, he thought.
Then I’m cutting ties with this lunatic for good.
“Thank you for your patronage, kind customer! If you ever need anything else, don’t hesitate to come again!”
The bucket-head didn’t try to stop him.
He simply smiled and watched as the man disappeared from view.
Now that he had photos of every Chixia-born in the city, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to take a little break.
His eyes drifted toward a nearby restaurant.
First things first—a free cup of hot water.
***
With a push, Sheffil opened a heavy wooden door, revealing a grand circular table.
Around it sat over a dozen teenagers, all seated in perfect posture.
They turned to glance at him briefly, then looked away in unison.
Judging by this atmosphere… that person must be here today, Sheffil grimaced internally.
Sure enough, a cold voice rang out.
“Sheffil-senpai, if you had something so important to do, you could’ve just not come at all.”
At the head of the table sat a girl with a gentle smile and narrowed eyes.
But the words coming from her mouth were anything but gentle.
“So it’s you running the meeting today, Yanghe.”
Sheffil scratched his head and laughed awkwardly, pretending not to hear the bite in her words.
“Junior Yanghe.”
“Didn’t I already tell you?”
Her gaze was sharp as blades, her tone suddenly turning icy.
“Here, you are to call me Acting Chairwoman, Sheffil-senpai.”
“If you’re late again, I’ll submit a formal proposal to the committee to strip you of your position as temporary sub-chair!”
Her voice rang out with resolute authority, echoing across the wide chamber.
Other than the two in direct conflict, the rest of the attendees sat in dead silence—mouths shut tight, unmoving, as if the room itself had become a tomb.
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