God Level Farmer In Another World

Chapter 85: Disciple, Welma is a Perfect "Furnace"

The two talked late into the night, and the old master eventually mentioned he had something to attend to and needed to leave.

Director Smith quickly asked, "Master, do you have a phone? How can I contact you?"

The old master thought for a moment and said, "Do you know the Water Dragon Bathhouse? I'll be there every Friday from now on."

Director Smith blinked in surprise. That was one of Giovani's brothels.

How could he not understand the old master's meaning? He immediately pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and respectfully handed it to the old master.

"Master, this is just a small token for our first meeting. Take it, and every Friday, I'll accompany you to the Water Dragon Bathhouse for some fun."

The old master laughed happily as he accepted the money, then said, "Good disciple, let me share another secret with you."

Director Smith's eyes widened, thinking that the money was well spent!

"Master, please tell me!"

The old master leaned closer and said, "There's a woman in the Security Bureau named Welma, and she's a top-quality 'furnace.' If you absorb her spiritual energy, your journey in magic will be twice as effective with half the effort!"

Director Smith's mind went blank.

Welma?

A furnace?

This was too wild!

He had no reason to doubt the old master's words.

But Director Smith showed a conflicted expression. "But Welma is the Director of the Security Bureau, an A-rank awakened one. I'm just an E-rank, a lowly head of a small local station... Winning her over might be difficult."

The old master's face darkened with displeasure. "Who said anything about becoming her partner? If she doesn't like you, why can't you use force? As a magician, you need to seize fate from the heavens! And you can't even dare to take a woman? What kind of potential do you have?"

Director Smith was stunned for a good ten seconds.

Was his master suggesting he... force her?

He remembered Welma's terrifying ice powers and immediately shook his head. "I can't do it, Master. I'm no match for her."

The old master sighed. "Ah, fine. Since you're my only disciple, I'll help you. On Merlin's Mountain, there is a magical herb that takes ten years to sprout, a hundred to grow leaves, and a thousand years to mature. With your extraordinary potential, refining it will grant you the power of a half-archmage. Since you're my only disciple, I'll fetch it for you when I have time."

Director Smith was overjoyed to hear this! He had known all along that his master had something good up his sleeve!

He immediately knelt again, banging his head on the ground, continuously chanting praises for his master.

The old master smiled, humming a tune as he strolled out of the park.

Director Smith shouted in a cracked voice, "Safe travels, Master!"

Only after the old master had completely disappeared did Director Smith dare to stand up.

His face was beaming like a Cheshire cat, already picturing himself calling the shots in the future.

Soon, his eyes filled with malice.

"Welma, Vincent... Hahaha, you never expected me to stumble upon such a grand opportunity!"

Thinking of Welma's cold beauty, and imagining her in his room with flushed cheeks in the future, Director Smith felt the urge to visit the bathhouse immediately.

The old master hadn't gone far; he hid behind a tree, watching Director Smith's movements.

Only when Director Smith had completely disappeared from the park did he snicker, straighten his clothes, and respectfully bowed toward the tree.

"Master Jack, how did I do on this task?"

From the tree, a figure wearing a demon mask spread its wings and descended to the ground.

The masked figure asked curiously, "Did you make all that up?"

The old master chuckled. "Read it in a novel."

Jack, the man behind the mask, pursed his lips.

"And that 'core formation method' book—did you also get that from a novel?"

The old master blinked innocently. "No, that one's original. I wrote it myself."

Jack stared at him for a while, saying nothing.

The old master scratched his head awkwardly.

"So, Master Jack, what do you think of my performance?"

Jack grunted, "Not bad."

Not bad? This old guy had totally conned Director Smith!

Then again, this old master had been a street fortune teller—a professional con artist from the start.

The old master's eyes filled with greed as he asked, "Can I exchange this for a Super Fruit?"

The man before him, nicknamed Ghostwing, was known to everyone as Master Eagle.

Those who were familiar knew that Master Eagle was the messenger of the leader. He handled many things that couldn't be openly discussed through the Mercenary Guild app. The logistics department didn't just transport goods; it also transported information.

Jack responded, "The leader said that once the task is completed, you'll be rewarded with a Super Fruit."

The old master's wrinkled face broke into a wide grin. "Understood. I'll have my obedient disciple take care of Welma and then make sure he's killed by the Security Bureau afterward. I've observed the stars, and the sudden flickering of the star over Bluewater City is a clear omen of the calamity awaiting her!"

Jack shot a glance at the old master. "Cut the nonsense with me."

With that, he flapped his wings and flew into the night sky to report back to Alexander. A total of thirteen hunters were involved in this staged event, and Alexander took it very seriously.

The old master watched Jack's departure with a smile, muttering to himself, "This isn't trickery—it's calculation. Who said I don't have real skills?"

He patted the wad of cash in his pocket and happily headed toward the harbor alley in the eastern district, where many old, run-down brothels operated.

A few nights later.

In a high-end Western restaurant.

A bouquet of fresh red roses lay on the table in front of Jonathan as he nervously waited for his date to arrive.

He had shouted at Welma a few days ago, and since then, she had ignored him completely.

In those days of cold indifference, Jonathan regretted his actions deeply and felt like slapping himself. He had spent days trying to win her back, and finally, Welma agreed to have dinner with him.

A beautiful figure appeared at the entrance.

A red coat, black leather pants, tall high-heeled boots—stunning.

Many men's eyes were drawn to the striking figure.

But this beauty carried an air of aloofness, a cold elegance that warned others to keep their distance.

Jonathan's excitement grew, and he stood up, waving toward Welma.

Welma spotted him, her face still cold, and walked over to the table without a word, crossing her legs as she sat down.

Jonathan knew she was still angry, so he adopted a pleading tone. "Welma, don't be mad. It really was my fault last time. I'm sorry, okay?"

Welma remained silent, her icy demeanor breaking Jonathan's heart.

He quickly signaled to a waiter.

The waiter, understanding the cue, gestured to a violinist.

The violinist approached and began playing a beautiful melody.

It was the piece "Ode to Love."

Welma seemed captivated by the music.

Seizing the moment, Jonathan took out a beautifully wrapped gift box from his jacket.

He opened the box, revealing a crystal necklace inside, and earnestly said, "Welma, please forgive me. I swear I'll never lose my temper with you again!"

Welma took the crystal necklace, her expression softening a bit.

Jonathan continued, "When I get back home, I'll make sure my family thoroughly investigates Ethan Blake. We'll find a way to take him down. Please cheer up, okay?"

Welma glanced at Jonathan with a faint smile. "You plan to just go back home like this? That wouldn't look very good, would it? You care about appearances, don't you? Let me give you something to save face."

Jonathan didn't understand what she meant.

Welma reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a stack of documents. "This is information on Director Smith, the head of the Northern Security Station in Bluewater City. It contains evidence of his corruption and bribery. He's my brother's man, so I shouldn't be selling him out, but I can't let you walk away empty-handed, can I?"

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