Chapter 119 – Molton Potter
"I've been here for three months already and I've yet to battle a native. This experience would be a first for me." There wasn't a single trace of panic emanating from the cloaked man. Instead, he seemed to portray an express of regret. Cracking his fists, he said, "You guys are a bit too weak though. Can't you find some stronger opponents for me to play with? I can't feel satisfied by simply beating silly such easy opponents."
"Fuck your mom!" Babulu and his companions launched their attacks at the same time. Several long blades, each glowing with a cold light, flew directly toward the cloaked man like lightning. Despite their speed, their target disappeared before their eyes and their blades hitting nothing but air.
Peng, peng, peng, peng, peng, peng~
The anticipated ultimate showdown didn't occur as no one seemed to be able to observe the cloaked man's actions clearly. All was known was that several large figures were instantly smashed away. It looked as though a couple of light punches were thrown in their directions, but these "light" punches managed to send these self-proclaimed overloads of the oasis flying into the distance.
It was obvious that the cloaked man had gone easy on them, only having broken their arms and legs. Sensing the huge disparity between his and the cloaked man's strength, Babulu no longer dared to utter a sound,. Staggering up off the ground, he and his associates hurriedly fled from the scene.
To the side, the shop's boss looked upon, with immense distress, the remnants of his shop, with broken tables and chairs littering a large portion of his shop. Some of those who had experienced Babulu's bullying couldn't help but warn the cloaked figure, "Foreigner, you better leave without delay. That person you had just hit is the nephew of the Varzina feudal lord. He'll definitely bring troops back to cause trouble for you in just a moment!"
The cloaked man simply laughed mischievously as he lifted his hood. "Oh really? It seems that I can expect a good fight then."
When the crowd saw the face hidden beneath the hood, everyone around him instantly gaped. Underneath the hood was the face of a a very bright and handsome youth. More importantly, this youth possessed a skin colour that made those black people incomparably jealous; yellow!
Within the Tutankhamen Empire, the vast majority of the citizens were black-skinned. Naturally there were a few who were white, but no yellow-skinned person had been sighted since the period of darkness.
It was only after cooperating with the Federation that yellow-skinned people began to slowly reappear. Yet, yellow-skinned people were existences that no black person wanted to provoke. This youth was definitely some young master or an ancestor of an aristocratic clan!
The Tutankhamen Empire was different from the strong and large Kaiser. Its diplomatic ties with the Freedom Federation had always been based on trust. One reason for this was due to the fact that both the Freedom Federation and Tutankhamen Empire were in close proximity to each other, facilitating communications between the two. This led to a great deal of imports and export were obtained from the Empire, causing them to become heavily reliant on the Federation from an early period of the Tutankhamen Empire's development in order to fulfill their needs.
At the same time, it allowed them to feel the great martial prowess of the Federation. They also drooled with envy over the glamorous world of the Federation. From the abundant products to its beautiful women, the upper of the Empire slowly became infatuated with these material objects, causing the lofty and grand aspirations they once held when founding the Empire eventually faded away.
This resulted in an extremely close-knit relationship between both sides. The Tutankhamen Empire seemingly adopted the attitude of a faithful slave, hanging on to the beck and call of the Federation and trying to bend over backwards to meet every request of the Federation.
Everyone from the Freedom Federation was treated like a Buddha. Even if they were just ordinary citizens, they would be treated as though they were of high status and given the best security imaginable. Anyone who dared to provoke a Federation yellow-skin VIP would definitely be chased and killed off in some distant corner of the world by the Empire's guards.
This was also one of the reasons why the Federation would gladly sent a few of their elite geniuses to the Empire for training. After all, it was more valuable to train inside the desert of the Tutankhamen Empire. The quantity and variations of mutated beasts there were vastly more diverse than those found inside the wilderness of the Federation. In addition, so long as those elites came over to train and paid for their needs, the local government would be more than happy to offer up various kinds of support. The price-to-profit ratio for this endeavor was extremely high.
Molton Potter had come to the Tutankhamen Empire specifically to train. He'd heard of the many strange talents here with astonishing combat prowess. For Molton, a person who was born into the aristocratic Potter clan with nothing to their name, this was almost like a holy land.
And yet, after staying here for three months, he had only been fighting against mutated beasts out in the wilderness and hadn't met with any black person who dared to cross fists with him. The status given to him for his yellow skin, as well as his origins with the Federation, made it such that no one dared to enter into combat with him. Not only did they not fight, they even smiled and welcomed him. There was always a peal of friendly laughter and joyous greeting ringing out from anywhere within a thirty-meter radius.
Since he couldn't just throw punches and blow people away, his hands felt unbearably itchy. In the end, he decided to buy a cloak to cover up his skin colour. True enough, he managed to engage in battle today.
When he saw Molton's skin colour, the proprietor wanted to weep but had no tears. He had originally wanted to haul him over to pay for the damage done to the shop, but could only give up when he saw his yellow skin.
Never would he have thought that Molton would casually fling over a gold coin towards him. "Here. To pay for the damages to your shop."
The rune gold coin looked extremely dazzling when it caught the light of the sun. Countless people in the surroundings revealed envious eyes.
The large majority of high-grade living products, weapons, and resources in the Empire originated from the Freedom Federation. If one wanted to get their hands on these scarce products from Federation merchants, one had to use things that were extremely valuable to pay for the Federation goods. Either that or one could use a Federation gold coin to purchase these goods. As for the paper currency used by the Tutankhamen Empire? Those merchants of the Federation simply refuse to accept it!
This was a tactic employed by the Federation to gain control over the Tutankhamen Empire. A currency policy was a method prevalent in the old era and still useful in today's era. This was especially true for gold coins with rune technology applied to them. This rendered the coins to become viewed as being of high quality and style.
Rune gold coins were thusly seen as the highest tier currency within the Tutankhamen Empire and was extremely rare to find. With such a small piece, it would be more than enough to buy over ten similar shops. This thing with no visible use whatsoever could stir up trouble and make matters worse within the Empire. This was the intended effects of the tactics the Federation employed.
Those who had watched the transaction began to break into discussion. Molton, however, was currently engrossed with sizing up the coffin-carrying little brat.
Ever since this fellow had walked in, regardless of Scar-face's provocations or the recent confrontation, all he had ever shown was an expression of regret on his face. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew that Buddhism didn't exist in the Tutankhamen Empire, Molton would have assumed this little baldy was a monk.
The coffin he carried was a little strange. Regardless of what year it was, anyone carrying such an unwieldy coffin would appear to be very weird. Yet, Molton didn't care too much about this point. It was just glowing slightly, and he wasn't some bumpkin of the Tutankhamen Empire.
When he turned his gaze toward Molton, the little baldy bowed to express his gratitude. Molton walked over with a smile and greeted him. "Hey little brother, let's have a couple of drinks. My treat."
The little baldy shook his head and said, "I don't drink alcohol. Just water and some dried food would be enough for me."
"Then let's order some camel meat. That stuff is too unpalatable." Molton didn't cover up his distaste at all. There was truly nothing good to say about this terrible place. The tactics employed by the Federation was proving to be too effective.
Feeling somewhat awkward, the little baldy shook his head and said, "I don't eat meat."
"Friend, you're too ruthless." Molton was mature enough to not take offense. "Speaking of which, don't you feel tired carrying such a heavy thing around in the desert?"