Chapter 141 Reluctant to Meet

Chapter 141: “How About We Make a Deal?”

Just as Mei was about to take her leave, the ever-silent Cyril suddenly spoke up.

“Cyril? You’re interested in him?” Mei turned back, surprised to see Cyril still seated in the chair.

She then cast a scrutinizing glance at Ling Feng from head to toe, muttering with a mixture of confusion and displeasure, “What’s so special about this guy that you fancy him?”

The others exchanged strange looks upon hearing her words.

“Fancy him? Fancy what exactly?”

Even Ling Feng’s expression stiffened slightly. Could it be that things were as he suspected?

“Everyone else, please step outside. I want to speak with him alone,” Cyril said, noticing the odd atmosphere among those present and not wanting to engage further with them.

“Alright, you two talk,” Mei replied reluctantly but obediently headed out.

Once Mei left, Mo Chen and the others saw no reason to stay either, so they followed suit.

Only Cyril and Ling Feng remained in the room.

“By the way, Mei, do you know what kind of deal they want to make?” Lin Shaojie, waiting in the corridor, couldn’t suppress his curiosity and asked after Mei didn’t go far.

“Of course I do! Cyril has set his sights on Ling Feng’s soul. He wants to know what price he must pay to obtain it,” Mei answered.

“So it’s his soul he desires,” Lin Shaojie murmured, his tone hard to categorize as surprise or something else.

Noticing his odd tone and the discomfort on the others’ faces, Mei tilted her head and asked curiously, “Otherwise? What did you think Cyril fancied about Ling Feng?”

Seeing the clear, innocent light flickering in her large eyes, everyone felt awkward.

Should they really tell her that their thoughts had all gone astray?

“Ahem, Cyril, why do you want Ling Feng’s soul?” Ye Jingxuan cleared his throat and stepped forward, trying to divert Mei’s attention.

“Well, how should I explain… Before awakening his necromancy, Cyril was born into a minor noble family with modest means but loving parents. His personality was no different from any other child,” Mei began thoughtfully, feeling she needed to start from the beginning.

“But when he turned thirteen, the sudden awakening of his necromantic powers brought untold disaster to him and his family. At that time, the influence of the Church of Light was immense. Dark mages, especially necromancers, were severely persecuted. Once discovered, not only would the mage be executed, but their family and neighbors would suffer as well. Cyril’s family and all those living on his family’s lands were slaughtered overnight by agents of the Church. Cyril himself narrowly escaped because a necromancer took him first, ostensibly to take him as an apprentice but actually to use him as a test subject for magical experiments.”

“That necromancer had no good intentions. But strangely, Cyril survived and gained a unique ability: by devouring someone’s soul, he could absorb certain traits—memories, knowledge, even strategic thinking. However, consuming so many dark memories twisted his nature, making him more brooding and somber.”

Hearing this, Mo Chen and the others finally understood why Cyril coveted Ling Feng’s soul.

“This time, he’s likely after some of Ling Feng’s particular skills—analysis, calculation, mastery over human psychology. That’s why he wants to strike a bargain,” Mei explained.

“In that case, we definitely have to see this mission through!” Mo Chen leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Most likely. Given Ling Feng’s personality, I believe he’d pay any price for his sense of duty. Cyril’s wish should be fulfilled. Furthermore, if Ling Feng insists on those two conditions, the mission isn’t so difficult. The antidote for the zombie virus can be produced anytime if Cyril is willing. As for escorting them, the distance to Country A isn’t far. Once they reach shore, there shouldn’t be any problems,” Mei analyzed.

“What about the Dark Source you need? Do we still have time to find it?” Ye Jingxuan asked.

“We’ll see. Even if my blood brother arrives, there’s no need to leave immediately. We should still have some time,” Mei replied.

At the mention of her blood brother, Mei had once harbored hope and occasionally imagined what kind of person he might be. But as their meeting approached, she inexplicably found herself dreading it.

Her body now closely resembled that of her original elven form. She didn’t know how he would react upon seeing her current state. Would he still recognize her as his sister?

Even if he did, how could she explain the changes she had undergone?

Moreover, though he had been searching for her, he never explained why she had come to this planet. Was it truly only because of their blood ties that he wanted her to return?

Mei found it hard to believe he would cross interstellar distances for such a simple reason.

She had seen too many instances of relatives using, betraying, and abandoning each other—and she was one of them.

In that world, she was despised by her mother even before birth. If not for the fact that the High Elves never killed their own offspring, she might never have been born.

Though they wouldn’t kill their young, abandonment was another matter.

From birth, she was forsaken by her mother and, because of her half-Dark Elf blood, rejected by the High Elves. Though they didn’t cast her out of their territory, they imprisoned her in a dark, sunless tree hollow, barely tending to her except for feeding.

If her own mother treated her so harshly, how would her brother, whom she had never met, regard her?

Thinking this, Mei felt less and less eager to meet Garo.

Just as her mood darkened, the door opened. Cyril stepped out, his expression neutral yet somehow conveying a good mood.

“He agreed? What are the terms?” Mei quickly composed herself and asked.

“I agreed to escort them to Country A, all the way to their destination,” Cyril stated plainly.

Mei was somewhat surprised. “Just like that?”

“What else did you expect? He gives me his soul, and I promise to extend his life until he completes this mission. The escort is merely a supplementary condition. We’ll ensure their safe arrival in Country A, and he’ll deliver what we need when the time comes,” Cyril said, unusually free of his typical sarcasm.

Mei was even more astonished.

“Cyril, what exactly did you see in him? You seem so pleased to have his soul.”

“His soul is powerful—comparable to the genetically enhanced Number Three. In a spell I’ve been researching, I needed a strong soul as a medium. Ling Feng’s fits perfectly,” Cyril revealed without hesitation.

“I see. I thought you wanted to devour his soul! I was worried his personality might influence yours, but now I don’t have to worry,” Mei said with a mix of surprise and relief.

Though she admired Ling Feng’s willingness to sacrifice everything for his responsibilities—a quality she felt she lacked—she still disliked his personality.

Now that she didn’t have to worry about his influence on Cyril, she felt genuinely relieved.

Cyril merely smiled ambiguously, a calculating glint in his eyes.

“Is Ling Feng absorbing the power you gave him?” Mei asked, noticing he hadn’t come out yet.

“Almost done. Once he’s out, we’ll get to work,” Cyril said, showing a rare positive side.

It was clear how pleased he was with Ling Feng’s soul.

About fifteen minutes later, Ling Feng emerged.

After hearing Mei and Cyril’s conversation, Mo Chen and the others were curious about his current state.

Where once his face was pale and haggard, he now looked much more energetic and healthy. Most notably, his right sleeve, once empty, now held a new arm—though his right hand was covered by a black leather glove, making it hard to tell if it matched the original.

Seeing his right hand, Mei immediately understood. Noticing the surprised looks on others, she explained, “Cyril just made him a prosthetic. He can’t regenerate lost limbs.”

Ling Feng showed no expression but glanced at everyone before speaking, “I believe you all know the terms of my agreement with Mr. Cyril. If there are no further questions, I hope you can quickly address the ship’s security issues to ensure the mission’s safety.”

“Got it. Since Cyril agreed, we’ll help. You just order everyone to assemble on deck,” Mei responded lazily.

Clearing out lurking monsters was troublesome, and she was the only one capable of it. Yet, the thought of using up her hard-earned energy again left her somewhat unmotivated.

Seeing her like this, Cyril, who knew her well, understood immediately. He took a bottle of magical potion from his space and handed it to her.

Curious, Mei examined the rare golden liquid inside. “Cyril, what’s this potion?”

“The thing you want most,” Cyril replied, returning to his old habit of speaking indirectly, forcing others to guess.

What she wanted most?

Could it be…

“Thanks, Cyril!”

Mei stored the potion away and instantly felt invigorated.

(To be continued.)