Forge a path to success

Having spent a long time in Europe and America, Chu Hengkong understood this very well: "Very stupid?"

"I'll put it bluntly, it's the dumbest bill the city-state has enacted in nearly 300 years," Sreyer said.

The sea seal, a native animal, promptly offered a correction: "[The most incompetent law in the history of the Thorn Robe City-State.]"

“So stupid it’s a laughing stock at parties,” Sreil scoffed. “This Mr. Hilland downstairs may be foolish in his actions, but he’s opposing something even more foolish. If you were to openly criticize him… I bet by this time tomorrow, the Dragon City support bill will be on the front page of the newspapers.”

Politicians and the media are masters at exploiting situations, and Chu Hengkong had considered this possibility, which is why he didn't act immediately. He pressed Vande down onto the middle of the table, and Eye Demon spoke for him: "But this fool downstairs is carrying out a terrorist attack, which is far worse than any bill in the process. It wouldn't be right for us to sit idly by because we're worried about taking sides."

“Staying on the sidelines is obviously not an option, and if we're going to intervene, we need to find a clever way. Poets are eloquent, but they're not good at fighting. Do any of you three experts have a brilliant plan?”

Sriel clearly didn't want to get involved, and no one had much hope for this slippery fellow. The Great Seal revealed a writing tablet and a die: [I'm skilled at reading auras; given the opportunity, I can make some small influencing moves.]

“I have a keepsake that can bring a little bad luck to someone,” Chu Hengkong said.

"I only know hypnosis, but unfortunately I can't reach it." Vande spread his tentacles.

Sriel plucked a strand of hair and drew a circle in the air. An image appeared within the circle—Hilland's face downstairs. He winked at Vand: "Can you reach it now?"

“Okay, okay…” Vande grinned wickedly, “Come on, I’ve come up with a plan, let’s all confirm if it’s feasible.”

The sea lion leaned in to listen, then gasped in shock. Chu Hengkong looked troubled.

"Isn't that a bit unethical?"

"We're doing legitimate counter-terrorism! Doing good deeds and accumulating merit!" Fan De said righteously. "Delay will only cause trouble, buddy, you go first."

Unlike abilities like the Calamity Scythe, the Chain of Misfortune posed no risk of being detected by Olek's main body, so Chu Hengkong felt no psychological pressure using it. Thus, the Chain of Misfortune was activated silently.

·

"If any of you citizens harbor resentment, feel free to curse and vent your anger at me. Even if it means being sentenced and executed by the city-state, we will still awaken you from your slumber. It is with this very awareness that we have taken these actions..."

On the first floor of the restaurant, Hilland was still talking incessantly to the camera. His men patrolled the restaurant with guns, occasionally banging the muzzles against diners, drawing angry but silent stares. The waiters standing nearby, holding plates, were unsure whether to serve or not, each with an awkward expression.

Hiland appeared far more relaxed than he seemed. Having drawn attention, the objective of the operation was essentially complete; whether he was captured or not was irrelevant. The firearms themselves were of little use; these foolish animals possessed the physique to withstand gunfire, but they had lived in peaceful city-states for too long, to the point that they instinctively feared battle and violence. Perhaps, throughout the entire Submerged Realm, one would not find another group so easily dealt with.

However, perhaps due to his intense focus on his speech, Hilland failed to notice that he was standing a tiny bit too close to the unfortunate Antler Cat waiter. His waving fist grazed the Antler Cat's plate, and the sticky mushroom dressing meant for sashimi dangled precariously from the edge of the plate.

The antlered cat nervously warned, "Be careful! Be careful!"

"what?"

Hilland turned his head warily, his fist just brushing the edge of the oil bottle again, and the cup of bright orange seasoning oil fell right onto Hilland's forehead.

"Boss?" "What's wrong, boss?" "What's the matter?"

His men all turned away, struggling to suppress their laughter. After being doused with the seasoning oil, Hiland's face turned a greasy, pale yellow, with oil droplets still dripping from his hair, making him look…

It felt like someone had poured water all over my face...

Everyone in the restaurant was trying hard to suppress their laughter. Hilland's chest heaved with anger, and he struggled to swallow his profanities. "It's nothing!" he growled, then forcefully shook his head to get rid of the oil droplets. However, this was a poor decision; the oil droplets were scattered everywhere, causing considerable secondary damage to his men who approached him.

Now it looks like it's been drenched.

"puff!"

Someone couldn't help but laugh, and Hilland turned around angrily: "Who laughed?!"

The ghostly host sat on the gold coin, trembling: "Sir, as you know, we're professionals in the media; we won't laugh out loud... unless it's really funny..."

Hiland angrily wiped his face, but the oil was so sticky that he couldn't get it clean no matter how much he rubbed. "Shit!" he cursed, pulling over a stool and plopping down.

But as he was about to sit down, he realized something was wrong. He could clearly feel the stool, but he couldn't touch it at all. He was just sitting straight on thin air!

On the second floor, Vande chuckled sinisterly, while on the first floor, Hiland instinctively tried to lift himself up, but his body wouldn't obey him. Thus, under the watchful eyes of the entire city, this greasy-faced terrorist plopped down on the ground like a toddler just learning to walk.

And it made a "poof" sound as it sat down on something on the ground.

On the second floor, the large seal grinned as it played with the dice. Meanwhile, the guests on the first floor couldn't contain themselves any longer, their joyful laughter echoing throughout the room. The ghost host finally snapped, laughing so hard he was breathless. Hiland slapped him across the face: "Enough! Shut up!"

With lightning speed, the panda chef scooped up the ghost host with one paw and the freshly made, yet-to-be-eaten cream puffs with the other. Hiland's slap slammed down on the table, the white tablecloth and various cutlery sliding down. He tilted his head back, the tablecloth landing on him, followed by the plate hitting his head! The plate shattered! The cutlery struck the plate! The metal cutlery didn't break, but instead stuck into the tablecloth like tiny antennas!

Hiland scrambled to his feet, his face covered in a white tablecloth, his vision blurred and he couldn't see anything clearly. He tried to pull the tablecloth up, but the sticky mushroom's oil was so sticky that it clung firmly to his face. He yelled at the antler cat through the tablecloth, "You dare use this damn stuff to cook?!"

The antler cat looked aggrieved: "We usually only use half a spoonful... You drank the whole pot by yourself, so you should compensate us..."

"That's enough, everyone disperse and help the boss take care of the tablecloth!" The guy who looked like an assistant started giving orders. "Be careful not to get it on your hands, scrape it off with a knife."

"Alright." One of the waiters drew his dagger and slashed.

"Ah!!!" Hiland jumped up suddenly, letting out a pig-like scream. The dagger was stuck in his buttocks.

The deputy snapped, "Where the hell are you stabbing?!"

"Damn it, I'm not..." the guy stammered, "The boss smells too strong, I can't tell..."

"Shut up, all of you! Give me the knife, I'll do it myself!" Hilland roared. "You all need to be serious! No more laughing!"

At this moment, his intimidating presence was almost nonexistent, and the guests were laughing so hard they could hardly contain themselves. Hiland strode forward to grab the dagger, but failed to notice that a corner of the long tablecloth was dangling at his feet. He stepped on the tablecloth, lost his balance, and fell forward, his arms outstretched like a graceful swan.

The oil-coated soles of his shoes greatly reduced friction, allowing him to glide at incredible speed. Hilland kicked hard, trying to regain his balance, but as luck would have it, some scoundrel from the second floor threw a chicken bone down, which landed right under Hilland's feet.

So when Hilland stepped on the bone, he tripped and fell hard. His burly body flew across half the restaurant lobby with a scream, landing right in the tank of live seafood.

It was feeding time for the fish, and the hungry fish, smelling the oily scent of Hiland, rushed forward, mouths agape, to suckle. Hiland, hidden under the white cloth, was momentarily at a loss, feeling as if dozens of large mouths were forcefully sucking at him from all directions—their actions were utterly lewd!

"Fuck! Get out!" Hilland roared in terror, "What the hell kind of freaks are they?!"

These sea fish had incredibly strong bites; in the blink of an eye, they tore his pants to shreds, even gnawing a large hole in his underpants. Hilland, holding his underpants, leaped up and kicked the persistent fish away. One of the squid-like creatures, provoked, sprayed out a large amount of brownish-yellow ink, drenching him head and face.

He grabbed the squid, violently ripped off the tablecloth covering his face, and roared a few times before realizing his predicament in the mirror. His face instantly turned a deep purplish-red. He pointed at the camera lens and yelled, "Cut it off! No more filming!"

The director desperately protected the camera: "No! The ratings have hit an all-time high! This is the first time in our station's history that we've topped the ratings charts! Even if the King of Heaven himself came, we couldn't cut it today!"

Hiland nearly fainted from anger, forgetting even why he had come, and just yelled, "Smash it!"

However, the loyal underlings remained silent. In the brief silence, only the soft, smacking sounds continued, originating from a mushroom that had been flattened by someone's butt a few seconds earlier.

Everyone in the hall, including his underlings, stared at him in horror. More than 80% of the diners' eyes held terrifying connotations such as "shameless," "lecherous," and "shameless." A few diners began to loosen their collars.

Hilland exclaimed in horror, "Why are you all up? What do you mean? Why are you taking your clothes off?!"

A younger brother put his arm around his broad shoulders, his eyes glazed over.

"Boss...you smell so good..."

Hilland got goosebumps: "What the hell is going on?! What is this smell?!"

·

On the second floor, the big seal grinned and held up a writing tablet.

[Soft bean mushrooms and the ink of tender squid are raw materials for making a unique perfume.]

"...What does this perfume mean?"

“Biosex male, psychological sex female.” Van der chuckled sinisterly. “Passionately courting.”

Chu Hengkong quickly put away the chains: "I wish him good luck."

Chapter 276 Your Suppression Is Beyond Your Imagination

Generally speaking, a person's luck always has its ups and downs. Even someone as unlucky as Detective Chu has moments of leisure amidst his busy schedule, and the luck of ordinary people is unlikely to be too bad.

Unfortunately for Mr. Hillland, he unfortunately encountered a combination attack that was sure to ignite his passion. The insidious combo of "Wrist of Calamity" and "Hypnosis" was enough to turn any lucky person into a hapless wretch wallowing in the mud for a short time. Even more coincidentally, the Seagull Shopkeeper, who was feasting upstairs, was a Level 5 Mystic Eye—his Mystic Eye was particularly adept at observing Qi, and his dice relic could subtly influence the direction of Qi.

And so, after the sea lion's few dice rolls, Mr. Hilland, by sheer coincidence, acquired a captivating scent. He was now facing the most terrifying and horrifying scene he could remember: several muscular gentlemen were loosening their cuffs and ties, while a loyal underling rubbed against his back.

"What did you rub against?!" Hilland turned around and slapped him. "Damn it, what did you rub against?!"

The younger brother covered his right cheek, looking aggrieved: "Boss, you...you seduced me first..."

The younger brother's words sent a chill down Hiland's spine, the cold intensifying only by his lower body being reduced to just his underwear. His first instinct was to fire and stabilize the situation, but in the chaos, his pistol had fallen into the dining area opposite. Several robust, muscular, hairy, and odorous orc customers had just removed their outer garments, eagerly flashing masculine smiles.

Hiland's aura intensified dramatically: "You've got it wrong! This isn't my scent—"

The orcs nodded in understanding, and a muscular man with a tiger's face said in a magnetic voice, "Don't be nervous, sweetheart, this happens all the time."

"What the hell did you call me?!"

“Although society is much more open these days, there are still many people who hold conservative views on love.” Wolf Head Bro next to him looked at you with great sympathy. “I understand you, Sweetie. You’ve been suppressing your feelings for far too long. This excessive suppression has clouded your judgment, making you act rashly and think irrationally.”

The old man with the horse-headed head, dressed like a classic gentleman, shouted to his underlings, "If you really care about her, don't indulge her! Go and satisfy her!" His words showed great respect for the self-identity of the people on the other side.

The underlings lowered their heads, their faces full of shame: "Boss, we misunderstood you... but you really don't need to hide it. You just have a different orientation than most people, but it's never something to be ashamed of..."

"I told you you've got it wrong! This is ink! Can't you smell ink?!" Hilland shouted hoarsely.

“We can smell it clearly, darling.” “Relax, leave it to us.”

The muscular orcs strode over enthusiastically, and Hiland's shouts sounded like a squashed chick. He was an Ascendant on the Path of Light, and without his armor, his physical strength was nothing special... while these orcs' physical strength was definitely higher and tougher than his!

The thought of fighting a group of muscular orc men filled Hiland with terror. He turned and ran in a panic, ignoring the fact that he was only wearing his underwear as he fled out of the restaurant. However, the moment the sunlight hit him, he realized he had made a terrible mistake. The instant he stepped outside, every citizen on the street turned to look at him, their senses twitching in unison, followed by a deafening scream that exploded like firecrackers.

"You pervert!" "You're a pervert!" "How can you go out like this in the street!" "Indecent and shameless!"

A small group of like-minded individuals, who could understand the situation, looked embarrassed and hesitated whether to offer assistance. After all, even in the city-state of Jingsha, such an undisguised attraction was extremely rare. Just as they hesitated, the orc brothers ran out of the restaurant, their faces grave: "Citizens, please help! This lady has been suppressed for too long; such pressure has driven her to violence!"

Citizens exclaimed in surprise, and people with a strong sense of justice, insects, birds, and various small animals whose names they did not know all stepped forward, their eyes filled with a surging sense of duty.

A wild hammer snake with a moon tattoo on its head was the first to crawl out, its face full of righteousness: "I've come to lend you a hand!"

"Citizens who meet the criteria, please step forward." "We cannot allow repression to lead to tragedy!"

The kind-hearted citizens of the city-state began to undress, and Hiland screamed as he sprinted towards his dimensional wheel. His legs were made of metal, a prosthetic that granted him immense propulsion and jumping ability, allowing him to take the lead. However, the kind-hearted citizens were no pushovers; many possessed strong muscles and, with all their might, gave chase.

Hiland ran while trying to pinpoint the pursuers by sound, only to find that their movements seemed to be getting louder and louder. In desperation, he turned around and nearly exploded with rage at what he saw. Among the many muscular pursuers, a surprise force was leading the charge—it was none other than the director, who was personally carrying the camera lens! This dedicated media worker had unleashed 300% of his potential, starting from the restaurant and overtaking the others, dragging his bulky frame to the front of the pack to bring viewers a firsthand, live report!

"Stop filming! Damn it, don't film! Don't film!!" Hilland shouted, his voice cracking.

"Film it! Film it! Don't stop! The host is reading his lines!!" The director's voice cracked as well. "The live viewership ratings are breaking all the station's records. Even if the Speaker came today, we can't stop filming!"

The ghost host, suspended by a thin thread from the camera lens, spoke rapidly: "Dear viewers, due to a series of emergency situations, this program has been temporarily transformed into a K-X marathon chase. Parents watching from the water screen, please take your minors away immediately. Children without guardians, please change the channel and do not watch any violent scenes!"

Even in such a terrifying emergency, it didn't forget to give a reminder, demonstrating the professionalism of the ghost host. Holding the gold coin, it enthusiastically explained: "Okay, we see Miss Hiland, in her X-phase, running ahead! Although she is an Ascendant of the Floating Light Path, her speed is quite astonishing. Many kind citizens have expressed their willingness to help her, but she hasn't made a choice yet. Why did she act so abnormally after releasing the scent? Here we randomly interview a lucky audience member!"

The ghostly host handed a gold coin to a beholder spectator who happened to be watching the spectacle from the crowd. Vande stroked his tentacles and spoke methodically: "This female contestant's actions seem abnormal, but they are actually reasonable. Everyone might think about it: our Divine Tree City-State has many races and an open atmosphere, so why is she suppressing herself until now?"

"That's really strange," the ghost host chimed in.

“Because she’s picky!” Van Der concluded decisively. “Her orientation is rather niche, and her standards are too high; she looks down on most suitors. While everyone else has partners, she’s been single for years. She’s lonely, she’s isolated, she’s restless—it’s this unspeakable pressure that has accumulated over the years that has caused such insane sexual repression!”

“I see. We thank the helpful citizen for their answer.” The ghost host nodded repeatedly. “It seems that the essence of this marathon is a premeditated matchmaking scheme. Let’s wait and see which outstanding gentleman will win Ms. Hilland’s heart. Our reporter will continue to bring you updates!”

·

Inside the seafood bookstore, Ji Huaisu slammed her hand on the table: "Film the main show! Film the main show! What's so interesting about Van der Rohe? I want to see the real-time rankings!"

"That's terrifying," Gulibo trembled. "How come they got involved in this kind of thing after only being here for half a day?"

Manager Bangbangji stared wide-eyed: "I never imagined I'd see a chaotic free-for-all in a 3 PM livestream..."

The editor, Poison Otter, drew a rainbow with his wine glass, beaming, "Then why are you still watching? Do you have unusual sexual orientations too?"

"The competitive element, ah, that's the focus of this kind of show." Bangbangji said with a righteous expression, "The camera cuts over, it's time to decide the winner!"

·

Hiland was plunged into deep despair. After all, he was an Ascended Being of the Floating Light Path, and he had been running frantically towards his Boundary-Opening Wheel ever since he left the restaurant. But the damnedly enthusiastic citizens kept coming, and in his panic, his escape route became erratic and he didn't know where he had gone. To make matters worse, his mental signals inexplicably received no response, like a stone sinking into the sea. No matter how much he roared at his Boundary-Opening Wheel, there was no reply.

"Move, Boundary-Opening Wheel! Why aren't you moving?!" Hiland screamed in agony.

On the second floor of the restaurant, Chu Hengkong leisurely whistled. The Netherworld Annihilation Force Field transformed into a halo that expanded above Xiland's head, precisely suppressing all his mental energy fluctuations.

Hiland was completely unaware of this insidious ambush, or rather, even if he had, he would have been powerless against Imperial technology. At this moment, the muscle-bound men were closing in on him, and he no longer had time to consider better options. His immediate priority was to escape the perpetrators' pursuit as quickly as possible. In desperation, he fled to the nearest large building, attempting to hide inside to escape the chase.

A powerful urge to escape fueled Hiland's determination. He screamed and charged toward the building's entrance, but halfway there, he realized something looked familiar. The building resembled a piano, and for some reason, there was a puddle of yellowish-orange liquid on the floor that looked like some kind of familiar oil…

(Why did I come back?!?!)

However, Hiland ran too fast, far too fast. By the time he realized it, it was too late to turn back. At that moment, the lively citizens of the city-state, with their whimsical imaginations, gave him a unique surprise: a middle-aged man in beach shorts tied a rope to the back door of the restaurant, cupped his hands around a megaphone, and shouted, "Last three meters sprint! Go for it!"

"You think this is a track and field competition, you bastard—ooh ...

The moment he hit the rope, the terrifying impact nearly made Hiland's eyes pop out. The rope's resilience far exceeded his expectations; even though he crashed straight into it, it didn't break at all. Instead, he was sculpted into a shrimp-like U-shape!

Only then did he realize that the "rope" was actually an extremely resilient gun barrel. With a gentle flick, the barrel sent Hiland flying backward, landing in the enthusiastic crowd outside the restaurant.

It falls into well-developed muscles and colorful hair.

One after another, simple and kind faces filled Hiland's field of vision, and the deep voices of the honest citizens reached his ears.

"Sweetheart, come here..."

"No, no!" Hiland cried out in terror, "No!!!"