Deities: Starting From Goblins

Chapter 461: 276_1

Translator: 549690339

Chapter 276: The Burly Man Makes His Move

Everyone in the inn had fled in fear, but Logan and his companion remained cool and collected, continuing to enjoy their food and drink. The burly man in another corner did the same, though his face was ashen and he tightened his grip on his throne-realm divine weapon, seemingly ready to deliver punishment at any moment.

The innkeeper felt like he had been struck by lightning. He was on the verge of fainting. How could he possibly come up with ten thousand spirit stones? Even five thousand was a stretch for him. What iniquity had his establishment committed to deserve such torment? He’d always been bullied, but at least before, he’d been able to scrape by. Now, it seemed that all hope was lost.

“Right, I fell from the second floor just now, and everyone in the hall saw my embarrassment. This should also be accounted for. Nutritional cost: two thousand spirit stones; medical fees: three thousand spirit stones; face-saving fees: two thousand spirit stones. Add them all up, and the total is ten thousand. I’m being very humane here.”

August Westman wore a playful smile as he continued, “You have one day to gather it all. After tomorrow, I will be expecting twenty thousand spirit stones. If you’re as stubborn as you were today, I won’t hesitate to raze this inn to the ground. The Westman Family always keeps its word. If you’re smart, you’ll cooperate!”

“Young Master Westman, I really can’t afford it,” the innkeeper responded bitterly. “This inn has always been run with caution. Over the past decade, we’ve befriended many cultivators, both those at the throne-realm and dominators. They all hold our establishment in high regard and often come for a drink. Can we negotiate further?”

“Are you threatening me?” Westman’s eyes turned cold. The audacity of this mere innkeeper, to put on airs in front of him, bragging about his connections with cultivators. If he’s so adept at making friends, he should take it up with the Westman Family, who boast no less than twenty individuals in the throne-realm alone.

“No… No, I just wanted to clarify. I swear, twenty thousand spirit stones is just too high a price. How about we negotiate? Let’s say I add an extra thousand spirit stones on top of the original two thousand. Consider that thousand a tribute. From here on, you won’t have to pay a single coin whenever you dine here.”

The innkeeper trembled, terrified. He realized he’d chosen his words poorly. But he wasn’t making threats, only hoping that Young Master Westman might show leniency for the sake of his acquaintances, and give him a break. Even the most profitable businesses in town couldn’t afford to part with twenty thousand spirit stones a month.

“Trying to fob me off with three thousand spirit stones? Just these past few days, I took over three shops, each capable of producing ten thousand spirit stones. But all you do is cry poverty. Do you think that I, Young Master Westman, am interested in your paltry spirit stones? If it weren’t for the protection of the Westman Family, your inn would have been smashed to bits long ago.”

August Westman gave a cold smile, to which the innkeeper could only sigh. Westman’s overbearing attitude had hiked up the price of spirit stones by several times. In the past couple of weeks, ten businesses had already shut down, all of which had been operating for over ten years. His own inn was likely next in line. It seemed there was no choice but to close shop and leave empty-handed.

The innkeeper sank into despondence, his aura dimmed. “So be it. There’s no point in staying open. I’ve been here for ten years without turning a significant profit. Even after investing twenty thousand spirit stones all those years ago, I barely scraped by, always cautious, always bullied. Maybe in closing shop, I might find some relief. I’d rather run a roadside stall. At least I’d have more freedom that way.”

“You dare? Fine, you’re welcome to close shop—as long as you give up fifteen million spirit stones. Otherwise, you won’t be able to leave the city. Step foot outside, and face the wrath of the Westman Family. I assure you, we will hunt you down and reduce you to ashes. Mark my word—I’ve already put it out there to the city, those not willing to pay spirit stones will have to face my wrath.”

August Westman suddenly yanked at the innkeeper’s collar, the threat in his eyes palpable. The innkeeper fell to his knees, feeling as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff. With no room for negotiation, the demand for fifteen million spirit stones was an astronomical figure, far more than the inn would ever be worth.

The burly man drained his bowl of wine and stood up. “August Westman, aren’t you being too despotical? The innkeeper already forbore so much, yet you persist in your brutality, leaving him with no way out. I don’t usually go out of my way to meddle in other people’s business, but today, I think I need to teach you a lesson.”

“Who are you, and why haven’t you left yet?” Westman’s brows furrowed. After his threat, he expected the inn to be vacant. They all knew the possible consequences of his anger, including the potential bloodbath that may ensue. Yet here was someone interfering, which immediately irked him.

However, feeling the confrontational energy of the burly man, Westman couldn’t help but take a step back. The man had already reached the throne realm, an echelon above his own mediocre middle-level transcendence. There was evidently a significant power disparity, not to mention the intimidating aura of blood slaughter qi emanating from the burly man, which involuntarily sparked fear in others.

But Westman was naturally unwilling to yield, so he began to threaten: “Just a measly throne-realm cultivator. Our family boasts twenty throne-realm cultivators, and my father is the formidable Dominator. Are you sure you want to cross the Westman Family over this innkeeper? If you leave now, I will let it slide. This is not a situation you can just walk into.”

“I know well enough about the Westman Family. But I’m no less fearsome!” The burly man rose, picking up the large sword from the table as he slowly advanced. August Westman’s revelation held no sway over him. After all, he had already gathered the necessary information from their previous conversation.

“Despite only being of the throne realm, I’ve killed my fair share over the years, including dozens in the throne realm and countless in the inferior transcendent realm. I’m also known as the mad butcher. I’m a straightforward person who never fears the consequences of my actions.”

Using the sword,the burly man pointed at Westman’s shoulder. “Why must you bully this humble innkeeper? You, being the Young Master of the Westman Family, you’re not lacking in spirit stones. With just one request, heaps of cultivation resources become available to you. Yet you continue to act as a tyrant in the city. Do you really think no one can hold you accountable? The City Lord has already issued a decree—those guilty of oppressing the weak are punishable by death.”

Upon hearing the man’s moniker, Westman was petrified. The infamous man was known as the bloody butcher, who single-handedly slaughtered over a thousand cultivators without batting an eye, and even continued to enjoy a few jars of wine after. Despite his status as the Young Master of the Westman Family, he knew that if he offended this man, he would surely be doomed. Even vengeance from his family would be of no avail.

With survival in mind, Westman swallowed his pride. “Well, about the twenty thousand spirit stones—I don’t need them. It was all in jest. I assure you that from now on, I won’t show up here. I hope you’d consider sparing me for the sake of the Westman Family. I promise, I’ll change my ways.”

“Get lost.” With a wave of his hand, the burly man dismissed Westman. Though hot-tempered, he didn’t want to off Westman right away. Provoking the Westman Family’s wrath over a worthless individual like him wasn’t worth it. Despite his reputation as a butcher, he wasn’t a fool. At least he’d managed to help the innkeeper this once, letting him follow his own inclination.

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