Chapter 37: Greasy Bird Neo
“Now I think about it, the card has something to do with Mister Mara too. About three months ago…” Angor explained his encounter with the strange seabird to Mara.
“The seabird wearing strange clothes drank the Morning Dew tea and left. It gave me a golden card.”
Mara’s expression turned weird hearing Angor’s words. It was mixed with regret and envy. When they left the Padt Manor, Angor gave most of the remaining Morning Dew to Mara.
Morning Dew was only a low-level magic plant, but its special attribute could compete with the White Orchid Potion. For most apprentices, White Orchid Potion was something they could never afford.
Mara planned to make a good fortune selling the Morning Dew when he returned to Fey Continent, and see if he could get help from a wizard using the chance. Thus, he never took out his tea on his way. Even Florent had no idea about the amazing tea leaves Mara possessed.
He hid the Morning Dew as best as he could so he could use it to seek destiny later. Yet Angor simply took it out to drink, and actually earned his own destiny!
Mara regretted to his bones.
If he could—if only he—
Mara only let out a sigh in the end. There was no “if only” in this world. He missed his luck, that was about it.
No one noticed Mara’s change in expressions, and even if they did, they would not care.
“Neehahaha. So Mister Toby gave you the card!” said Tom Weasel.
“Mister Toby? You mean the bird wearing clothes and a pouch?” asked Angor.
Weasel made a ballet spin and explained with a worshiper’s look. “Correct, Mister Toby! He is the master’s favorite familiar. He shares an equal position with the master in Barbie’s Restaurant!”
When Angor asked further, Tom Weasel no longer said anything about it. He only smiled. “Neehaha, you will see Mister Toby when you enjoy your meal later.”
After Angor told his story about the card, Tom Weasel explained “Toby” to him. However, the other apprentices were interested in something else: the Morning Dew.
Angor was walking with Tom Weasel, and they were not close to Angor like Mara, so they could only keep the question in their minds for now.
As for the wizards… Once they heard about the origin of the golden card, they were no longer interested in Angor. The Morning Dew meant nothing to them.
Only Heroline, the wizard from White Coral Floating Island Academy, gave Angor another thoughtful look.
Good luck was part of one’s strength. If Angor could keep his luck going, he was very likely to break through into a wizard.
She pondered in her mind. If the kid did have a fine talent, she would keep an eye on him for now.
Oh right, the kid was asking Mara about something… Something like “on the day he took his talent test” which Mara interrupted.
No matter. He was just a lucky talent. Who knew if he could actually achieve anything?
…
Every inch of the wall on the sides of the deep, dark hallway was covered in thorny vines. A blood-red rose would appear occasionally. The extreme contrast somehow created an absolute beauty.
A crimson curtain was blocking the end of the hallway. Behind the curtain was the restaurant’s banquet room, or rather, a banquet room for bronze card holders.
In front of Sunders, a woman raised a cocktail glass filled with white mucus. “Oohohoho, the Demon Vine Seed is ripe now. We can plant it in the brain fluid of a black-skinned gnome, hohoho! Three months, and we’ll get the most delicious brain flower.”
A sweet smell, as well as a dark-violet vapor, was coming out of it. The woman was so fat that she literally had her jaw layered in six. “Care for a try, old friend? Ooohohoho. Drink this black gnome’s brain flower, and you will have your mind focused for ten days and nights without getting tired.”
Sunders took off his black felt top hat, exposing his short, grayish-green curly hair. He put the hat on the table and took the cocktail glass from Greya, drinking the content (food from hell, according to Flora) in one go without hesitation.
“Pretty good.” Sunders put down the glass, crossed his fingers and shrugged over his neutral answer.
“Hehe. I forgot to tell you that, the black gnome’s brain flower also triggers your brain to release more pheromone. Do you like it?” The fat women with violet hair, Greya, narrowed her eyes.
Sunders’ expression remained unchanged. “I feel it. A lot of it.”
Greya approached Sunders and took a deep breath beside his neck but without catching any scent.
Greya frowned and gave Sunders a despising look. “You numskull stopped your brain from releasing pheromone? I wonder how you really smell like. Must be as boring as yourself.”
Flora, who had been floating around in the air out of boredom, absolutely agreed with Greya’s words.
Getting Flora’s approval, Greya made a loving eye at Flora, only to receive Flora’s rolled eyes instead.
Sunders was still indifferent whatsoever. “Let’s not tarry over irrelevant matters. It was not easy to get your invitation card, you know.”
Greya hunched to show her fullness. She held her chin with her white, plump hand wearing vermilion nail color, and looked at Sunders with a seducing look. Those coquettish eye makeups were releasing fuzzy ripples as she made eyes at Sunders one after another.
Sunders still did not look at her. He did not even lift his head.
“Sexual apathy? You don’t get many chances when a beautiful woman’s trying to get to you.” Greya, who thought herself as a “beautiful woman”, rolled her eyes, and walked to her material desk while swaying her large buttocks.
The material desk was filled with various strange items.
There were floating glass containers with cooking materials in them but none of them really looked like cooking materials. Blackish meat chunks, thick mucus releasing violet and red smoke, piles of living eyeballs, crawling worms… There were even gas vortexes with visible colors.
Greya found these cooking materials from all over the world. One of the reasons why Barbie’s Restaurant kept traveling around was for Greya to hunt for materials in different places. She sometimes even went to foreign planes. For example, most of the materials that gave out violet and black aura were from the Abyss Plane, and most gaseous materials were from the Blaze Plane.
Greya was wearing a pale crimson, close-fitting skirt. She made a pose so she could expose her curves most (or so she thought) in the kitchen, lifted her fleshy chin, and raised a giant spoon decorated with diamonds. “Twisting Protozoa again?”
Sunders nodded.
“Tsk,” Greya twitched her lips, “such a boring man.”
Twisting Protozoa was a special bug that could neither be bred or naturally produced. The only method to obtain them was to use a spell created by Greya, with the help of various cooking materials. The result of the cooking was such a bizarre, living dish that would not have any effect on people except Sunders.
Greya cast her particular Occult gourmet spell and began processing the materials using her unique cookers.
When she was hardly halfway through, the curtain of the banquet room was lifted, and an extremely sloppy, short, greasy man with a beak-like mouth and bead-size eyes slipped in.
The short man was about the same height as Flora, with thin limbs and a hunchback. He looks a lot like those lazy, cheap workers one could find sleeping under a sky bridge.
As he came in, Flora frowned and quickly flew towards Sunders. Her expression showed disgust and intention to avoid, which meant the visitor was not anyone ordinary.
“Greasy Bird? What do you want?”
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