Gender-swapped Saintess: A Survival Diary on Hell Difficulty

The scout's words echoed in the private room, causing an uproar among the grain merchants.

Stephen froze for a few seconds, then became hysterical.

"What nonsense are you talking about! It's winter, winter!"

"Wheat doesn't grow that fast!"

"Are you fucking idiot or blind? How did I end up recruiting a stupid spy like you?!"

He bared his teeth and claws, trying to scratch the spy's face, but was restrained by the people behind him and forcibly led to sit down on the sofa.

"President Stephen, please calm down."

The men abandoned Stephen and surrounded the scout again.

Everyone had a bad feeling, but they still remained calm.

After all, not everyone is like Stephen, who not only went all in on gambling but also borrowed money from all over the place to hoard food.

"Sir, what information have you received? Would you mind letting us see it?"

Sweat beaded on the scout's face as he peered at Stephen.

However, Stephen was slumped on the sofa, panting heavily, and had no time to pay attention to his underlings.

The spy was overwhelmed by the imposing presence of the group of big bosses.

For the sake of his life, he had no choice but to throw out the intelligence files.

As for his immediate supervisor, Boss Stephen... he might not be his supervisor in the future.

Upon seeing the intelligence, the grain merchants swarmed around the table, frantically flipping through the documents.

The intelligence was very detailed, and even included two or three photos taken using spy magic tools.

The above photo shows carts carrying wheat out of the greenhouse onto the road outside.

The number of handcarts even formed a long line.

There were also a large number of employees going in and out of the greenhouse.

The bustling scene even surpassed the autumn harvest in the suburbs of the capital.

"Could this... could this be a deception created by Roland?"

A voice of doubt arose from the crowd, but the tone was trembling.

Clearly, the person asking the question wasn't very confident either.

"Maybe Roland is putting on an act, trying to trick us into panic selling so she can buy cheap food."

Soon, others echoed this sentiment.

"Yes... that must be it."

"Don't panic, everyone. Grain prices will definitely hold up as long as we work together to stockpile grain."

The speaker stretched out his hand, pointed directly at the photo, and raised his voice.

"Besides, how could Roland's greenhouse possibly grow so much food?"

"We've all been to the fields to harvest grain, and we've seen plenty of those muddy fields. This yield figure is clearly fake..."

"thump."

Halfway through his sentence, a thud was heard as something fell to the ground.

Everyone turned to look and saw a young businessman fall to the ground, holding a photograph in his hand.

The photo shows a small corner of the greenhouse.

The endless expanse of wheat fields, with their plump ears of wheat, gives the entire wheat field a golden hue.

This stands in stark contrast to the sparse fields on the outskirts of the city.

In the wheat field, one can still vaguely see employees of the Roland Group busy harvesting.

On the harvested fields, there were still countless bundles of wheat lying around.

"How can there be so many..."

Those who saw it trembled and rubbed their eyes vigorously, thinking they were hallucinating.

The previously violent middle-aged men also gathered around the table.

He carefully read through the report he had been assigned, sighed deeply, turned it over, and displayed it to everyone.

"These should all be true; someone saw the Krusty Krab factory back to full operation."

"The Krusty Krab restaurant has also reopened, and the group's delivery drivers have started operating in the Old Port area."

The violent middle-aged man slammed the report on the table and turned to leave.

"You can continue your discussion here. I'm going back now. I'm not getting involved in this anymore."

He walked away.

This time, no one stopped him.

All the grain merchants stood there stunned, and even faint sobs could be heard.

Some of those who borrowed money to hoard grain and leveraged their assets looked utterly dejected.

"It's over, everything is over."

Stephen lay on the sofa, his face pale, and his voice dry and weak.

People looked at him.

Stephen's expression became increasingly distorted, his lips moved up and down, his jaw clenched and trembled, making a clicking sound.

His body began to tremble, and after reaching an extreme point, it suddenly stopped.

Then came a long silence.

At first, people thought Stephen had calmed down.

But this neurotic chamber of commerce president lay on the sofa like a corpse, not even blinking, his eyes more eerie than a dead fish.

Those around Stephen were startled by his behavior and cautiously reached out to touch his arm.

"Mr. Stephen, are you alright?"

"Mr. Stephen, would you like to say something?"

Stephen remained unresponsive on the sofa, and a wave of fear began to engulf everyone present.

The bystanders mustered their courage and reached out to touch Stephen's nose, then withdrew their hands as if they had been electrocuted.

He shouted out in fear.

"Help! President Stephen is not breathing! Someone come and revive him!"

……

Opening at 7:00 AM, inside the executive management's private room.

Bizan was also in a state of extreme anger.

His tiger head was full of ferocity, as if it wanted to tear everything in its sight to shreds.

In fact, he has already done so.

The office was filled with scattered documents and overturned furniture, and even the desks had several fist and palm marks.

"That damned Roland Kane, that damned bitch!"

"What exactly happened? What's going on with that greenhouse and that fire wheat?!"

"Even if a thousand druids went up there, they couldn't grow this fast or produce this much."

Bizan grew angrier the more he thought about it. He leaned forward slightly, then reached out and swept everything on the table to the floor.

"Ahhh! Roland Kane!"

"Don't let me catch you, or I'll make sure you live the rest of your life under the knees of us tiger-men!"

Crackle, crackle.

The debris fell to the ground, making a noisy noise.

Even the sound of the door opening was drowned out.

The wolf-woman secretary opened the door, walked into the room, looked helplessly at her crazed boss, and offered words of comfort.

"Lord Bizan, we received the news three days in advance and have already disguised ourselves as small grain merchants to sell off some of our stockpiled grain."

"We can use the remaining food to lure beast girls from the south, or to cultivate new areas for bewitching grass."

"Our losses are not as great as you imagine."

Bizan calmed down a bit and took a deep breath.

"Our real loss was not the food, but the reputation of our cooperation."

"What's happening to those foolish grain merchants now?"

The wolf-woman secretary smiled wryly.

"This is not good. I have already ordered my men to turn them away three times, but they are still relentlessly trying to find you."

Bizan waved his hand in annoyance.

"Just block them out and say I'm not here. They'll soon lose interest in bothering me."

"By the way, what about that guy who almost died suddenly?"

The wolf-woman secretary frowned.

"President Stephen has regained consciousness thanks to the treatment he received from our superhumans, but his mental state doesn't seem very good; his mouth is crooked and his eyes are slanted."

Hearing that no one had died, Bizan relaxed a little, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the scenery, trying to compose himself.

He gave the instructions to the wolf girl.

"Get that Stephen out of here right now. If he's going to die, don't let him die during our 7 PM opening time, so the news doesn't spread."

"Before things escalate further, let's find a way to extricate ourselves from this."

The wolf girl was about to reply.

Just then, a roar came from outside the window.

"Thumbs up!"

"You liar, I'll haunt you even in death!!!"

The roar had just stopped when a figure flashed past the floor-to-ceiling window.

Immediately afterwards, a dull thud came from downstairs.

Twisted human figures and blood bloomed into grotesque flowers on the roadside tiles.