Chapter 131: Using His Life to Trade for Intelligence, Old Cat’s Helplessness

Death was acceptable, but it could not be a pointless death!

At the very least, he had to send out the intelligence he had seen!

He swiftly pulled a small leather pouch from his chest and took out a palm-sized creature curled up inside, resembling a bat.

This was a special pet he had personally cultivated — a Message Bat.

It could reproduce up to fifty characters of human language without a single error and accurately locate a preset recipient.

Dean whispered softly into the Message Bat’s ear.

He relayed all the intelligence he had just witnessed in full.

Then he urged anxiously, “Go. Take the message out and deliver it to the captain!”

Having said that.

He forcefully tossed the Message Bat into the air.

The little creature spread its wings, turning into an almost invisible black shadow, silently融ging into the deepening twilight.

Almost at the same moment.

Those few upright black insects below moved!

They made no screeching sounds, no warning.

Like ghosts, they suddenly exerted force. Their sharp forelimbs easily pierced into the wall as they climbed upward at an astonishing speed!

So fast that only afterimages were left behind!

Dean did not even have time to draw the dagger at his waist. His vision blurred, and searing pain surged from his limbs!

Cold insect limbs locked firmly onto his joints, and an immense force slammed him violently onto the floorboards!

He wanted to scream, but his throat was choked by another insect limb.

His vision was quickly filled by a ferocious insect head.

In his final moment of consciousness, Dean only saw a mouthpart packed with dense, sharp teeth descending toward his face…

……

Night had fallen.

At the hilly camp outside Lemon Port, campfires crackled.

The aftermath of the retreating insect tide had not yet been cleaned up, and the stench of blood and scorched flesh still lingered in the air.

But at this moment, within the area where the Platinum Mercenary Group was camped.

The atmosphere was even more oppressive than during the earlier battle.

The deputy captain, White Crow, leaned against a large rock, absentmindedly wiping her short sword.

Her snow-white hair was especially eye-catching in the firelight.

She glanced toward Old Cat, the captain, who stood silently not far away.

The corner of her mouth tugged into a curve devoid of warmth. “The Message Bat came back, but that guy’s nowhere to be seen…”

“Tsk, looks like Dean overplayed his hand this time and dragged himself down with it.”

Her tone was as flat as if she were talking about what she had eaten for dinner.

There was little regret to be heard, more a sense of “this was expected.”

In the Platinum Mercenary Group, casualties were routine. Everyone had their own price and their own choices.

Dean had accepted this life-risking job, so he had to bear the consequences.

Old Cat did not turn around.

The shadow of his hunting cap covered most of his face, with only the stubble on his chin trembling faintly in the firelight.

He held the Message Bat that had returned some time ago.

The little creature lay quietly in his palm, faint light flickering in its eyes.

After a long while, Old Cat finally spoke.

His voice carried a trace of hoarseness. “Losing a Dean… that really hurts the team.”

These words were not meant for White Crow, more like he was talking to himself, weighing gains and losses.

Dean had been the best assassin in their group.

Assassination, stealth, reconnaissance, intelligence gathering — he excelled at all of it.

Losing such a talent.

It was not just a reduction in combat strength; it meant that many operations requiring covert methods would become far more troublesome in the future.

The price paid truly made his heart ache.

White Crow snorted and sheathed her short sword. “What, feeling heartache? In our line of work, we’re licking blood off the edge of a blade.”

“He chose this road himself. There’s no one else to blame. But this intelligence…”

Her gaze shifted to the Message Bat in Old Cat’s hand. “Hopefully it’s worth the price. Otherwise, this trip of ours will be a total loss.”

Old Cat finally turned around and put the Message Bat away.

In the firelight, his eyes were still sharp, but deep within lay a hint of helplessness and fatigue.

“The money for this intelligence isn’t easy to earn.”

He sighed. “The waters inside Lemon Port are much deeper than we imagined.”

After a brief pause, Old Cat’s gaze drifted toward the direction of a solitary tent in the distance.

Their employer, Avril, was resting there.

“I’ll go pay a visit and meet that mage lady.”

“Let’s see how many gold coins she’s willing to offer for this ‘exclusive information’.”

White Crow raised an eyebrow. “Now? In the middle of the night — aren’t you afraid she’ll think you’re there to molest her?”

Old Cat shot her an annoyed glare. “Nonsense. She’s a Third-tier Magician, not some defenseless weak woman.”

“Besides, our Platinum Mercenary Group’s reputation may not be great, but we still follow basic rules.”

“This is business, not a fight.”

He adjusted his hunting cap and patted the dust off his clothes.

“Keep an eye on the camp. Don’t let those red-eyed small fry come looking for trouble.”

“I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, Old Cat no longer hesitated and strode toward Avril’s tent.

……

When Old Cat approached.

The sound of his boots crunching on gravel was light, but Avril had already noticed.

She appeared to be staring blankly at the crackling campfire.

Orange-red flames danced within her violet eyes, yet reflected little warmth.

Instead, they accentuated the pallor of her face.

In reality, her thoughts were not on the fire at all.

She was recalling another oracle from Lord Angel earlier.

Holy Light Town had developed an experimental weapon called 【Holy Light Grenade 1.0】.

It was said that Ulf had already been sent to deliver it, and it was expected to arrive in a few days.

At that time, it would be distributed for free to these mercenaries to test the waters…

Thinking of this.

Avril’s morale, dampened by the disastrous battle that afternoon, finally lifted a little.

Those mercenaries looked decent enough, and each one bragged louder than the next.

Blood Blade, Steel Shield — the names sounded intimidating.

But what happened?

Just a wave of insects surged out of Lemon Port, not even the main force.

And it had beaten them into wailing misery, their defense line crooked and unstable, nearly collapsing on the spot.

If not for her decisive moment, smashing several Holy Light Orbs down.

Forcibly plowing out patches of empty space within the insect tide, the camp would probably have been trampled flat by now.

With that level of skill, they still wanted to push deeper into Lemon Port?

They might as well deliver food to the insects!

Avril could not help rolling her eyes inwardly.

Relying on them to accomplish Lord Angel’s core mission would likely take until the year of the monkey.

“Sit.”

Avril did not look up.

She simply extended a hand and pointed at a large stone beside the fire that had been worn relatively smooth.

Her cold voice cut off the other party’s quiet approach.

Old Cat halted his steps.

The shadow of his hunting cap covered most of his face.

Only the ring of stubble on his chin reflected faintly in the firelight.

He complied and sat down, his movements unhurried, carrying the steady composure unique to a seasoned mercenary.

“Then I shall accept with respect.”

His tone was calm, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

He seemed unsurprised by Avril’s directness.

“There’s intelligence from inside the city, Captain of the Platinum Mercenary Group?”

Avril finally turned her head, her gaze calm as she looked at him.

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