Chapter 41 The Hungry Wolf Band

The roaring river surged upward, then thundered down in a furious cascade. Water, though naturally gentle, could become unyieldingly hard when necessary. This was such a moment of sheer rigidity.

The dwarf mole’s face was etched with terror; he had struck a rock this time. He had previously faced formidable elemental mages—flames roaring, forced to surrender under relentless fire—yet now, he found himself confronted again, this time by a close-combat adversary.

Despite the looming threat of defeat, his mind was occupied not by fear but by a scheme for profit.

“Hmm?”

The river raged on, tearing through the small grove, yet Mù Róngxún received no victory notification, indicating his opponent was still alive.

His gaze swept toward the edge where only a few scattered trees remained, survivors of the water’s onslaught.

He held back, unleashing a beam of aurora light to begin.

Amidst this, he clearly saw a shadow dart swiftly through the darkness.

“Hmph, trying to run?”

Closing in fast, he released a blade aura.

“Ouch!”

The dwarf mole clutched his backside and twisted, burrowing underground.

Mù Róngxún frowned at the undisturbed ground.

Here, he was at a loss.

Yet, under the current circumstances, victory was all but assured. Time passed, and the damage he inflicted far exceeded that of his foe.

“Heh heh, you finally got your comeuppance!”

Shī Jié chuckled, unable to resist capturing the image of the dwarf mole clutching his rear, then uploaded it to a dedicated forum populated by those who despised the mole fiercely.

The moment Shī Jié’s image circulated, the forum exploded with activity. People clamored for details about the battle. Upon learning it was between Mù Róngxún and the dwarf mole, and after securing the duel room number, they flooded in.

As they entered, they saw the dwarf mole buried underground, silent for a long time, while Mù Róngxún searched for his trace. Most tellingly, the damage output panel showed over two hundred points on one side and zero on the other—an unmistakable sign the dwarf mole was doomed.

Without hesitation, the crowd showered Mù Róngxún with rewards.

This was a privilege reserved for spectators during battles; if a fight was particularly thrilling, one could tip the combatant. The amounts were modest—usually a few dozen to a hundred points—but the sheer number of supporters, many of whom had suffered under the mole’s malice, was enough to amass substantial rewards. Though Paradise Coins were scarce, these small sums were easily spared.

The gifts were split between the magic tower and the player. If popularity was high, the revenue from such gifts alone could be considerable.

Yet Mù Róngxún was unaware of this; he was still focused on tracking the dwarf mole.

However, with only minutes left, the battle abruptly ended.

“What’s going on? Why did it end so suddenly?”

“That dwarf mole finally bit the dust. My anger feels settled at last.”

“Oh my, who would’ve thought? The skilled swimmer drowned, the expert rider fell from the horse. That mole, master of burrowing, actually suffocated underground!”

“Ha ha ha, a sight for sore eyes!”

“Never thought I’d see the day he’d be so utterly defeated.”

Mù Róngxún remained ignorant, but the spectators knew: the dwarf mole had indeed suffocated underground.

He had been slashed by Mù Róngxún, and though he burrowed quickly, Mù Róngxún’s numerous passive skills made escape impossible.

Moreover, the mole’s notorious misdeeds had earned him many curses, causing multiple passives to trigger simultaneously.

Petrification and paralysis struck at once, and the outcome was clear.

The mole could breathe underground in a special way, but paralysis robbed him of control over his body, rendering breathing impossible.

Buried beneath the earth, he needed a protective shield to resist the crushing pressure of the soil.

Without control, he was slowly crushed to death by the earth itself.

The process was agonizing and humiliating.

Though the cause of his sudden death remained unclear, Mù Róngxún accepted it with equanimity and prepared for his next duel.

His consumption of resources was minimal, and with ten thousand mana stored in his deep blue orb, his endurance was formidable.

Meanwhile, the audience lingered.

Having witnessed his ten consecutive victories, they stayed to watch more.

After all, entering the arena cost five coins each time; whether watching one or two battles made little difference, so they chose to support the champion who had so thoroughly avenged them.

The dwarf mole stormed out of the duel arena in fury but copied his combat footage before leaving.

This was permitted.

Some used replays to analyze and improve their tactics.

Only others’ battle videos were restricted from circulation without consent.

“Hey, Hunger Wolf leader? It’s Blonde here. I’ve got something good—interested?”

After leaving, the dwarf mole contacted the Hunger Wolf Adventurers, a band he knew well.

“What is it?”

A cold voice answered through the communication.

“I know about an epic piece of equipment, extremely powerful.”

He didn’t beat around the bush.

“How powerful?”

The Hunger Wolf leader’s interest piqued.

Their band lived by plundering other players.

“I don’t know exactly!”

The dwarf mole dared not lie.

“I have a video. Leader, you can watch first.”

He sent his battle footage over.

After a moment, the reply came.

“Just from this, you’re sure it’s equipment?”

“Leader, why ask if you don’t want to know?”

The dwarf mole chuckled.

“A melee fighter delivering destruction greater than most mages? If not for skills innate to the gear, I’d eat my hat.”

“Hmm.”

The leader neither denied nor confirmed, only continued the conversation—otherwise, he would have cut the call.

“How much do you want?”

“Ten thousand!”

The dwarf mole stated firmly.

“Such skills must come from epic purple or gold equipment. Leader, you know their worth better than I do. My price isn’t unreasonable.”

“Ten thousand? Bold request.”

The leader’s tone remained steady.

“Give me the name. If I find you’re shopping around, I’ll skin you alive!”

“Not a chance!” The dwarf mole hastened to smile.

“I’ll give you his name. I wouldn’t dare tell anyone else—mum’s the word!”

“Good. Understood.”

The leader said coolly, then ended the call.

“Phew!”

The dwarf mole exhaled deeply. Though nervous, earning ten thousand so easily delighted him. As for selling someone out—it was none of his concern!

The Hunger Wolf band specialized in strong-arm tactics, robbing players and buying or selling through intimidation.

Sometimes, when someone coveted a particular item on another player, they hired Hunger Wolf to seize it.

Their unique skills let them target and plunder specific possessions.

If their victim died, the band could claim exactly what they wanted from the bloodstained insignia.

Be it bloodlines, equipment, or skills.

This was their lifeblood. Every time Hunger Wolf struck, they brought good spoils, supplying most of the black market’s goods.

They feared not others having treasures, but rather the absence of any.

From the leader’s long experience, the opponent’s gear was most likely gold, with a small chance of being rare purple.

In any case, such devastating skills justified the value.

With just a name, they could track the player down in the same instance or dungeon—a tracking method unique to them.

As one of the most notorious adventurer bands across several tiers, they’d have been wiped out long ago without such special tactics.

The leader didn’t fear being deceived by the dwarf mole.

Not only did they have a longstanding cooperative relationship, but their powerful tracking ensured no lies could pass.

If the dwarf mole dared cheat, the leader could simply switch the target to him.

Unbeknownst to Mù Róngxún, his use of Deep Blue Wrath had inadvertently revealed his equipment information.

Lacking experience, he hadn’t concealed his name—even if it was a chef’s pseudonym, it was traceable.

Opponents could use this to track him down, especially since this was his first real duel, unaware that the kill notifications revealed who bested whom.

The dwarf mole seized this opportunity and sold Mù Róngxún out to the Hunger Wolf band.

Of course, given Mù Róngxún’s nature, even if he knew, he wouldn’t care.

He didn’t even know what Hunger Wolf was. Even if he did, what then?

Everything depended on the blade in his hand.

At this moment, he remained utterly focused on battle.

The foes he faced next were far less troublesome than the dwarf mole, making fights swift and smooth.

Often, victory was decided in moments.

Once Mù Róngxún closed in and landed a few blows, triggering various passive effects, the tempo shifted entirely to him.

No one could withstand the onslaught that followed.