Chapter 76 - State Of Ouranos Citadel (1/2)
”Jojo, I'm amazed that you haven't retaliated against the new crazy director. What prevented you from doing so?” said one of the cheeky adult Aiseirighians, his voice was tight and it seemed like he was a close acquaintance of the person he talked with only a territorial line in-between.
”Shut up!” Jojo shouted, with a deep voice that could make children cry. He slammed his fist against the debris near him. ”my hand has been itchy since this morning, don't make me use your face to scratch it. If not only for that Ferrakhian, you wouldn't be munching on that bread.”
”Bleh, I admit it is astounding. That girl single handedly created an economy and enticed the folks to scavenge up and down underground in this fucked up place, what was her name again?”
”Ragoni.”
”Yeah, she is a non cultivator too, we could invite her to our gang after this stupid trial ends! Might rendezvous with others to overthrow some society for once, the new director did all of the hard work for us! Hahaha!”
The tall demon smirked. ”You sure like to blabber everything even with a Yelper staring behind your ass.”
”What do you mean? Those Calamities are just guard dogs, we can talk shit however we want—”
The wingless ground wyvern chomped the cheeky thug's upper torso, eventually eating his whole body as the territorial glow disappeared.
”Ignorant trash. Bet this was the new director's intention in one way or another, filtering the garbage.”
Every territory's owner had the responsibility of connecting with their neighbors, helping the circulation of food and looted amenities in the market for bartering. With Ragoni's territory as the center of the market flow, she and the surrounding area were the busiest district of them all.
”Ragoni! The south district dug a basement full of wine and they were sending some of them here in exchange for 40 strawberry cakes!” shouted one of the nerdy tanomobi, trying to hold off his neighbor who was transferring numerous boxes of wine to the edge of their territory.
”What am I? A pastry chef?” replied the young Ferrakhian as the small wings on her head began to frown together with her annoyed face and baggy eyes.
”Hahaha, you sure do look like one. Let's split the wine later with Cule.”
”I'm producing bread at the rate of ten per twenty minutes. That alone should tell you that there will be no cuts or splits on those goodies. One bread, that is all you will get, and no, you, that prostitute, and I aren't even someone close so stop acting like one.”