Chapter 87 The Bizarre Adventures of a Young Dairy Farmer
As usual, dairy farmer Chris said goodbye to his wife, parents and siblings before six in the morning, rode out on his tricycle, and delivered the milk ordered by the customers to each household before breakfast time.
At about half past seven, Chris delivered the second to last bucket of milk in the truck to the cook of a manor housekeeper, then turned the truck around and headed for Westham.
Before he married his wife, he had been delivering milk to the Doyles, who ran a family hotel, for many years.
Ever since milk powder with a large amount of saccharin added became popular on the market, fresh milk that easily spoils is no longer as popular as it was when Chris was a child. Chris's business has been declining over the years, and the Doyles are the last stable customers of their home in Westham.
After a bumpy ride on the country dirt road, Chris arrived at Westham Town around eight o'clock. He turned a corner and rode the tricycle onto the gravel-paved town road, which was smoother than the country dirt road. He hummed a tune and gradually approached the town gate.
When they were still more than two hundred meters away from the town gate, Chris stretched his neck in surprise.
Westham is relatively deserted during the day and only becomes lively after four in the afternoon. Why are there so many people crowding at the town gate at this early morning?
"Is today some kind of festival in Westham? I've never heard of it." Chris looked around curiously as he rode his bike.
When the distance was about 100 meters, Chris suddenly felt something was wrong...
Those figures moving around at the town gate...why are they so thin?
After pedaling a short distance forward, Chris suddenly gripped the brakes on the handlebars hard and stopped the tricycle in panic.
What kind of skinny person is that! Those figures swaying at the town gate are all skeletons!
"Ms. Gold Coin?!" Chris was dumbfounded. "W-What's going on—Wait! Is Mrs. Doyle okay?!"
Many sons-in-law and mothers-in-law do not get along, but Chris has a very close relationship with Mrs. Doyle. Their whole family likes this kind lady very much. Even the reason why his family supports him to marry his wife is that Chris' family was attracted by Mrs. Doyle's character first, and they believe that Mrs. Doyle's daughter must be a good girl.
Thinking about the family hotel close to the town gate and the kind Mrs. Doyle, Chris suppressed his fear and did not turn around and run.
He jumped out of the car and hid the family's important property - the tricycle - in the bushes on the side of the road. He then plucked up his courage, half-crouched in the dense bushes, and continued to move forward.
The closer he got to the town gate, the more Chris' body trembled. When he was less than 20 meters away from the town gate, Chris could even feel his calves cramping...
Undead! Lots and lots of undead!
Not only at the town gate, but also everywhere on the streets in the town, it seems that there are undead moving around!
The reason why Chris has been able to hold on until now without collapsing or turning around and running away is because... there are also human figures among these undead souls.
A little further into the town gate, from Chris's perspective as he squatted in the grass under a tree, he could see some tricycles parked there. These tricycles were bigger and sturdier than the one his family had spent years of savings to buy, and they were loaded with a lot of cargo and seemed to be made entirely of steel.
There were a few living people standing next to the tricycle and talking, and the undead were circling around them but not attacking them.
This kind of scene, which would shatter the worldview of many people, gave Chris a glimmer of hope. If these undead spirits did not attack the living, then perhaps Mrs. Doyle would be fine.
Chris swallowed and took a few steps closer.
An undead ghost lazily leaning against the town gate suddenly turned its head towards Chris.
The moment he met those dark eyes, Chris seemed to hear the call of the god of death.
He screamed desperately, turned around and ran frantically - this was just an imaginary reaction under high stress. In fact, he was so scared that he lost his voice completely and could only make a breathing sound not much louder than a mosquito. His legs seemed to have lost consciousness and he had difficulty moving.
Qin Guan was not interested in the cooking task, so he pulled the man who had given me medicine out to chat.
The main topic of the conversation was naturally the issue of territory reputation that would be settled at the end of the month, which was what he was most concerned about now - tomorrow was the 31st, and the competition for the mayor that had lasted for more than half a month would finally have a result.
Qin Guan is also an internet celebrity, and now he can only talk to him about topics that will expose his insecurity, except for his brilliant writing skills. The videos he updates on Bilibili now have millions of views, and sponsors are lining up to make money from him. Not only has he earned the capital to compete with Lahongge, the small boss, for resources, he has also set up a video studio in reality. He has to restrain his character flaws and minor ailments that he could show without restraint in the past.
"Whether it will work or not, we have made so much effort, and it all depends on fate." Give Me Medicine was still quite open-minded, and did not put pressure on Qin Guan, but comforted him, "Anyway, the reward Ji Tang took the initiative to propose this time will be divided equally among all members, which means he will be eliminated early. Now it depends on which of you and La Hong has done more preliminary work. Let's not talk about this. Huahua said that after this mission is completed, we can try the Blood Alliance Order mission. Have you thought about the name of our Blood Alliance?"
"I've thought of a few. I'll make a voting video later and see which name gets the most likes. I'll use that one." Qin Guan said without much thought.
Since the launch of "Another World", a series of videos released by Qin Guan have attracted a large number of cloud players for this game. Although these cloud players cannot enter the game and cannot sacrifice their lives for the construction of Tarantan, at least they have made the ID Vanilla Pudding famous on the Internet... Qin Guan habitually hypes up the name of the Blood Alliance and attracts fans for their Blood Alliance on the Internet.
Give Me Medicine said happily: "That's fine. Anyway, I prefer silly names instead of formal ones. I'm sure silly netizens won't disappoint me. Hey, is there anyone there?"
Having said that, he gave me medicine and then cast an identification spell with great gamer quality.
"A commoner." He lost interest in giving me medicine after seeing the identification information, and turned around to continue chatting with Qin Guan.
Chris squatted in the bushes for several minutes...but he never got the "call of death".
The skeleton that made eye contact with him seemed to have no interest in him at all...
The country boy raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat dripping down his chin and tentatively walked out of the bushes under the tree.
Several of the undead at the town gate looked in his direction.
After a brief eye contact...the undead spirits withdrew their gaze and continued to do their own things.
Chris stood alone on the road for a while, then walked towards the town gate.
As he passed through the town gate trembling and panicking, none of the undead paid any attention to him.
There was an undead ghost who happened to be blocking his way and naturally moved aside to make room for him, and continued to chat with his companion "KABAKABA".
Chris couldn't help but start to wonder... Are there really so many undead standing at the gate of Westram? Is it just his hallucination?
Seeing the scene on the main road in the town, Chris denied his weird idea...
The spacious streets were filled with fair-skinned gentlemen who looked completely different from the country folk.
These gentlemen were in tattered clothes and looked miserable. Their hands and feet were tied with strange-looking white nooses and they were thrown into the street in a twisted and undignified manner.
Chris's jaw dropped and he even forgot about his fear.
"Hey, who are you and what do you do?"
A man standing by a tricycle saw Chris and immediately came over.
Chris suddenly came back to his senses and quickly bowed as usual: "Sir, I am a nearby dairy farmer, and I am here to deliver milk."
Rex looked the young man up and down...
Messy short brown hair, tanned and rough skin, a humble and fawning smile that is forced into the bones of people of humble origins as they grow up; milk stains on his clothes, traces of cow dung on his trouser legs, nervous hand movements when talking to people, eyes that dare not look people in the eye... He is indeed a country boy.
"Where's the milk you sent?" Rex asked again.
"There's only one bucket of milk outside. You know, people in town prefer milk powder now." Chris said nervously.
Rex nodded and said, "Here's your milk. Don't run around and don't provoke the undead in this town."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Chris responded repeatedly and subconsciously looked up at Mrs. Doyle's house which was very close to the town gate.
Mr. and Mrs. Doyle were both standing behind the second-floor window, watching him with anxious concern.
Chris was relieved and shouted, "Mrs. Doyle, I'll bring the milk right away!"
His sudden high-pitched shouting made Rex's eardrums hurt even though he was standing nearby...but it made him more convinced that this man was indeed a country dairy farmer, because country people seldom pay attention to the volume when they speak.
Chris ran out of the town like a gust of wind, and soon came back with a bucket of milk. This time he was no longer so afraid of the ghosts at the town gate, and he even bowed his head humbly when passing through - these ghosts did not harm the Doyles, so in his opinion they were not that scary.
"Chris, you scared me to death. How dare you come in here alone?"
In the family hotel, Mrs. Doyle saw Chris and nervously went forward to hold the boy's face and said, "You are too risky, child. Listen to me. Next time you encounter such a thing, you must run away immediately. Your mother can't lose you, and my baby daughter can't lose you either."
Chris hugged Mrs. Doyle, then hugged the taciturn Mr. Doyle, and said excitedly, "I'm so glad you're all right."
"Of course we are fine. Those... those ghosts didn't do anything to us." Mrs. Doyle covered her chest with lingering fear. "You saw the situation outside. The ghosts are dissatisfied with the... shops on this street."
Chris exclaimed, "Ah!" and couldn't help asking, "Are those people on the street all businessmen coming to Westham?"
"Yes, and people from various stores." Mrs. Doyle pulled Chris to the window and pointed to a gray-haired, fat old man on the street and said, "Look, that's Thompson, the owner of Jenny's Tavern."
Mrs. Doyle pointed out someone in particular to Chris, and of course there was a reason for that.
Chris pressed himself against the window and saw through the not-so-pure glass the listless old man in the crowd. On his simple and honest black face, hatred and pleasure appeared...
"This old bastard has finally gotten what he deserved!" Chris gritted his teeth.
For ordinary people making a living in Westham and farmers in the surrounding villages of Westham, high-end clubs such as "Lover", "Elegant Dream", and the original "Gold Coast" are too far away, and there is no intersection between the two sides even if they are close to each other.
Only lower-class places like pubs and strip clubs would be associated with people like them.
Many years ago, when Chris was still a child, his uncle had a boy who was about the same age as Chris is now. Curious about the bright lights and nightlife of Westham, he came to the town to "open his eyes" without telling his family during the harvest season, taking half a year's savings.
But the boy didn't know that the taverns were only considered low-class in Westham and were not places that a farmer like him who worked on the land could afford... The money he thought was enough to "open his eyes" was actually only enough to order a bottle of the cheapest corn rum at Jenny's Tavern and give the waitress a little tip for chatting with him.
After a night of partying at Jenny's Tavern, the boy from Uncle Chris's family was dumbfounded by the bill.
The owner of Jenny's Tavern broke the boy's hand and had his thugs take him home to demand overnight money. Not only did this make Chris's family and his uncle's family a laughing stock among the villagers, but in order to pay for the overnight money that was maliciously raised by the owner and the cost of Chris' cousin's arm treatment, both families were seriously injured and had to sell several cows.
Everyone knows that the owner of Jenny's Tavern is just taking advantage of them because they are ignorant and incompetent country people, but they still have to pay what they owe, otherwise Chris's cousin will be sent to the prison in Innadri - the sheriff and militia in the town will not speak for them, let alone the gentlemen in Innadri?
"I really want my uncle's family to see this scene, too." Chris stared at the disheveled old man whom he had hated for many years for a while, then turned to Mrs. Doyle and said, "Madam, what are these undead spirits going to do to these people?"
"It would be nice if we knew." Mrs. Doyle shook her head, and then she sighed deeply as she thought of something. "In fact, I often wonder if Westerham could go back to more than 40 years ago when I was still a little girl. Although Westerham's life was not easy at that time, it was not like now..."
After a pause, the old woman showed a painful expression, and looked with pity at the six men and women who were sitting on the sofa and the bedside, not daring to leave the room: "But now... it has come to this. If Westram can no longer do business, then, then - ah!"
A thin lady with scars of disease on her face lowered her head.
The other five poor people who shared the same fate remained silent.
Being able to leave their original place of work alive does not mean that these people have other choices in life.
They had all taken fattening drugs for many years and did not have the physical strength to do the work that normal people could do... They could not even do the laundry work that little girls could do. If their weak bodies were exposed to cold water for a long time, they would surely die.
Not to mention the traces of hidden diseases on their bodies that are obvious to anyone with a discerning eye... No matter where they go, they will inevitably be treated with strange looks.
To put it bluntly, gaining "freedom" was nothing more than moving to another place to linger on...If the family hotel run by Mrs. Doyle had not been willing to take them in and let them bring in the guests they had finally attracted, they would have rotted on the streets somewhere long ago.
Chris knew from childhood what kind of life the low-class prostitutes in Westham lived. Hearing this, he sighed.
Yes, even if all the brothel owners were taken away by these strange undead like Thompson in Jenny's Tavern, Westham would never become an ordinary town again. There are indeed some people here who can only survive by this lowly industry.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly became depressing.
They all know that being in the flesh trade is not a good thing, and they all hope that this industry will disappear from the bottom of their hearts, but they also know that if this business really doesn't exist, those who have long lost their ability to survive will only face death.
At this moment... a strange, unprecedented, strong fragrance suddenly floated in from the gap in the window.
The first person to smell it was Chris, who was standing by the window. He couldn't help sniffing after running around since early morning and not eating or drinking.
Mr. and Mrs. Doyle also smelled the fragrance, and the two old people were very confused... They had lived here for so many years and had never smelled such a smell.
The six skinny men and women also smelled the scent and swallowed at the same time.
Chris, whose stomach was rumbling, had a more sensitive nose than anyone else. He quickly determined that the fragrance was coming in from the window and subconsciously moved closer to the window again.
Chris saw from an angle diagonally downward, where he had to stick close to the glass and stand on tiptoe to see ... two large iron pots that were big enough for a person to fit in were set up in the open space behind those steel-bodied mountain bikes that he envied so much.
The water in the pot was steaming hot from the firewood under the iron pot. A group of undead were busy beside the two large iron pots. From Chris's perspective, he could see an undead holding a bag the size of a book and pouring powdered substance into the pot, while another undead was stirring the pot with a shovel.
As the hot soup in the big pot turned into an attractive light golden color, the aroma Chris could smell became stronger...
"This is the first time I've seen such a big package of mushroom stewed chicken noodle soup." The player who finished pouring the soup complained to his companion, "The planners here have suddenly become lazy again, and they don't even make small packages for the ingredients."
"Maybe it's to make it easier for people who are doing the cooking tasks. Who would have the patience to open small packages one by one?" The player who was stirring said indifferently.
"The potato chips are cut, make way!" A player carried out a dustpan full of potato chips from the temporarily requisitioned tavern.
"Wow, your knife skills are great. This slice is thicker than my finger."
"I'll just be okay, alright. I'm not a real cook!"
"Xiao Liu, there are two baskets of green leafy vegetables in the kitchen of this tavern. Would you like to use one?"
“Bring it out, bring it out!” Liu Meng, who has become the chef among casual players (Rex, who likes to save time, always sends cooking tasks to her), said hurriedly, “Go to the nearby buildings and get all the ingredients that can be used!”
"Okay!"
Seeing this, the player who was moving supplies from the tricycle asked, "Then do you want more bread?"
"Add it, our rewards are calculated by pot, why not add it." Liu Meng waved his bone claws, "Hey, you, go wash another bag of potatoes!"
"Which car did you put the concentrated soup stock powder in? Find it quickly!"
The mushroom stewed chicken noodles, which were unsaleable because they did not suit the tastes of people in the southwestern provinces of China, were repackaged by the manufacturer using machines to remove the original packaging bags, and then sold by tons together with the noodles to buyers sent by the expert group, and then sent to this world... finally received fair treatment.
As the aroma of the stew mixed with mushroom stew chicken filling packets and concentrated soup powder drifted farther and farther, many people who were hiding behind the windows and peeking opened the windows...
Twenty minutes later, the stew was ready. Rex freed up two tricycles, each pulling a large pot, and called Osrian, Lika, and the young boy Brook. He also randomly selected a few players and issued meal distribution tasks, then personally led the team to distribute food along the street.
The first to benefit were the twelve waitresses at Jenny's Tavern.
Next, it is the family hotel closest to the town gate.
Rex went forward and knocked on the door twice. The dairy farmer volunteered to open the door and bowed to Rex: "Dear sir, how can I help you?"
Rex raised his hand and grabbed the young man's shoulder to stop him from bowing. "How many people are in this building?"
"Uh..." Chris glanced at the guys who were still being left out in the street without dignity, and didn't dare to lie, "Including me, there are nine people."
"Bring out nine bowls for food, hurry up." Rex withdrew his hand and pointed at the tricycle pulling a large iron pot behind him.
Chris was stunned on the spot.
"I said, hurry up." Rex frowned slightly, his tone a little stern and commanding.
"Okay, okay." As expected, Chris stood up quickly and turned around and ran as soon as he received the order.
After a while, he really ran out with nine large bowls.
Rex stepped aside and said to Osrian, "You go ahead and give him nine servings that won't cause him any problems."
Osrian finally understood why Rex had called him...
Others may not know how much these poor people here who are starving can eat without getting a stomach upset, but he definitely knows. He had just eaten three full meals provided by the undead yesterday, and he knew best which meal made him feel uncomfortable after eating.
Rex was so caring and considerate of people who had the same experience as him... Osrian nodded slightly, took note of the favor, solemnly picked up the large steel spoon hanging on the edge of the pot, and carefully added food to the bowl that the undead had helped (helped) pass to him.
Chris respectfully and with suppressed fear took the bowl filled with half a bowl of food from the helpful undead and placed it steadily on the shoe cabinet beside the door. He waited until the two tricycles left before he closed the door tremblingly.
The Doyles and six other residents hiding on the second floor only dared to emerge from the stairs.
"He, they... gave everyone food." Chris, who felt very tired even though he did nothing, turned his head and said to everyone like a sleepwalker.
The Doyles and the six other residents all stood on the stairs in a daze.
