On the Luoshen Continent, there are many powerful and neutral organizations, such as the Mercenary Guild, Assassin Guild, Thief Guild, Knight Guild, Mage Guild, and so on, too numerous to mention.
Of course, when it comes to quick money, mercenary missions are undoubtedly the best, but just registering a Mercenary Group requires a payment of 5 gold coins, which he clearly couldn't afford.
If he only joined a Mercenary Group, he wouldn't have to spend money, but who would want such a powerless Fat Man?
Xing Luo sat by the street, lost in thought, racking his brain but unable to come up with a good solution.
Just then, a cold-faced young man in black walked towards him, looking to be about his age, but that face was like a masterpiece sculpted by a master with decades of experience, perfectly flawless.
However, precisely because it was too perfect, it lacked a bit of vitality, leaving behind only an aloofness that kept people at a distance.
He walked up to Xing Luo, and a chilling aura followed, making even the Fat Man feel a bit cold on this hot summer day, causing him to shiver involuntarily, and then a cold voice spoke.
"Where is the Luoshen Town teleportation gate?"
Xing Luo didn't understand why he would ask him, but he instinctively blurted out, "10 gold coins and I'll tell you."
It was just a casual remark, but to his astonishment, 10 gleaming gold coins rolled to his feet.
Xing Luo was about to bend down to pick them up when the cold voice spoke again.
"Where?"
Startled, he quickly turned and pointed in a direction.
When he looked back, the boy had vanished, as if he had never appeared, only the gleaming gold coins on the ground proved that something had indeed happened.
Xing Luo picked up the coins and quickly hid them.
He looked left and right, saw that no one was paying attention, and then let out a long sigh of relief.
He was very surprised that the other party actually gave him 10 gold coins for a casual remark; the shameless Fat Man concluded that he was lucky, yes, just lucky.
When he was little, Zhang Dashen often told him, "It's good to be fat, fat people are lucky."
And sure enough, just pointing the way could earn him so much money.
This was a farmer's annual income, just by moving his mouth.
He was not in a hurry to teleport to Luoshen City; even if he arrived there, he wouldn't have enough money to last two months, and the prices there would surely be much higher than in Luoshen Town.
It would be better to wait until the time was almost up before going to Luoshen City.
He nodded contentedly, satisfied with his clever decision.
However, he did not know how dangerous this decision would be.
The insatiable Xing Luo's complaints started again: "I should have asked for a few more gold coins earlier; now I haven't even eaten, and I don't even have a place to sleep."
His complaints continued as he saw a small vendor at a stall shouting, "Buying animal furs, magic cores! As long as you have them, I guarantee a satisfactory price!"
Xing Luo's eyes lit up when he heard this; it seemed his living expenses for the next two months were settled.
Playing with his dagger, he leisurely made his way to the plains surrounding Luoshen Town, where the land stretched flat and the sky was cloudless.
He couldn't help but sing a song, though his voice, comparable to the scraping of bed legs, truly scared away many birds and beasts.
Two years of hunting with Li Da Shu had not been in vain; at least, hunting wild beasts was no problem at all.
The reason he performed so poorly in the Monster Forest before was mainly because those were magical beasts, capable of magic, unlike wild beasts who were so easy to bully.
But don't underestimate the Fat Man; when other children his age were probably still playing in the mud and making a mess.
As the sun set, after a day of hard work, he felt a bit hungry.
Looking at the rabbit fur, squirrel fur, and a fox fur at his feet, a smile squeezed onto his plump face; perhaps due to his excessive weight, the smile was far from cute.
He skillfully roasted the rabbit, and the aroma made his fat tremble.
After eating and drinking his fill, he lay on the grass.
After the sun set, a hint of coolness arrived, dispelling the day's heat.
He didn't know how long he had slept, but he finally got up, put away the animal furs, and returned to Luoshen Town.
After some fierce haggling, Xing Luo's day's effort earned him 1 silver coin, which was already a good income; the Fat Man was satisfied.
He found a cheap inn to stay at; although the Sunset Inn was nice, 10 silver coins a day was more than he could afford right now.
Fortunately, his demands for accommodation weren't very high; he went back to his room and fell asleep, snoring like thunder.
Thus, the repetitive and boring life passed day by day, and soon a month had quietly slipped by, with the enrollment date getting closer and closer.
The moment he stepped out the door that day, his hair stood on end, as if he was being watched by some powerful magical beast, but this feeling was fleeting.
Xing Luo's keen senses were accumulated through two years of training, especially before his "awakening."
Before the age of 14, his body was like a sponge, absorbing the instincts tempered in life and death.
Children from ordinary families usually underwent their awakening for magic and battle qi at the age of 14; successful awakeners would see their strength advance by leaps and bounds.
As for the children of wealthy families, they would not undergo such life-and-death trials, and these deeply ingrained instincts were also his guarantee for survival in the Monster Forest before.
He gripped his dagger, and the cold touch from it brought him a little peace of mind.
Watching the Fat Man's actions, a man in the tavern across the street showed a hint of interest, licking his lips and muttering, "It seems the mission isn't so boring after all."
Killing for an assassin was already commonplace; in every assassination, either the target died or he died.
The last assassination at the edge of the Monster Forest was a complete disgrace to him, so this time he wanted to make this Fat Man taste death properly, to make him tremble, wail, and beg for mercy under his dagger.
The Black-Clothed Leader's assassin rank was 9, with strength equivalent to the peak of an Intermediate Magician, but as an assassin, one could not be judged solely by superficial strength.
Sometimes, a Level 9 assassin could even successfully assassinate a Senior Mage, provided the mage hadn't cast a magic shield.
But if an assassin were to engage in a direct fight with a knight or a mage, they would definitely be at a slight disadvantage.
The Black-Clothed Leader's brutal killing intent flashed and then vanished; he lowered his head and continued to drink the tea there.
Although it was a tavern, serving tea was not a problem.
Assassins were not allowed to drink alcohol while on missions; in fact, many assassins never touched alcohol in their lives.
They had to constantly keep their nerves from being numbed by alcohol; if their identity was exposed while walking on the edge of life and death, only death awaited them.
Looking at the departing Fat Man, the assassin's lips curved into a wicked smile.
Night had already fallen in the blink of an eye.
Upon returning to the inn, Xing Luo did not fall asleep as usual.
That momentary cold sensation during the day, as if someone held a blood-stained dagger to his neck, made the death-fearing him feel extreme panic.
Although it was only for an instant, this intuition had saved him countless times before.
Not long after, the room was covered with densely packed traps.
These traps were taught to him by Li Da Shu during hunting; although crude, they were not to be underestimated, and these things cost him a lot of money.
He didn't know if these traps could protect him, but seeing the room filled with various traps, the intense sense of unease in his heart seemed to lessen.
He rolled and hid under the bed, covering the bed with thick blankets over pillows.
He had done his best; it wasn't that he hadn't thought of escaping, but his intuition told him that hiding here was better than running out.
The dark night was so quiet.
He fell asleep unknowingly while hiding under the bed.
The clock reached 3 AM, and the prime time for assassins to strike had quietly arrived.
Several assassinations that shocked the continent occurred at this time; perhaps this was when people on this continent slept the soundest and had the lowest vigilance.
A cold wind blew, and Xing Luo was awakened by the chill.
A drop of cold sweat slowly trickled down his forehead; he had actually fallen asleep.
Then his heart twitched, and a sense of crisis suddenly erupted; the intense feeling made his breathing stop.
His right hand was somewhat white from gripping the dagger too tightly.
