Trafford's Trading Club

Mo Mo became somewhat agitated, “But I still can’t believe it! Even after seeing it with my own eyes, I still can’t believe it! Why… why would the senior’s shop do such a thing! Why… why would the senior, someone so kind-hearted, and Ms. You Ye, someone so noble, do something so cruel?!”

“I’m really grateful, Mr. Mo Mo.” The maid said softly at this time, “It’s heartening that you praise my master. But… what you see is the true appearance of this shop, there’s no deception. Anyone who comes here and offers something equivalent can get what they want. We trade all precious things, and always, what people use the most is… souls.”

“You… the senior, collecting souls, what is it for…” Mo Mo suddenly felt a chill.

Even though inside the shop it was different from the cold weather outside, the chill arose from the bottom of his heart.

“It’s a matter of the shop’s secrets, I’m sorry I cannot answer your query.” The maid said indifferently, “Of course, if Mr. Mo Mo really wants to know, you could exchange something equivalent.”

“Oh! I want to know! I want to know! Here!” Nero, on the side, quickly opened the box containing the soul.

“Ms. Nero, you’re being playful.” The maid smiled at this time.

“What a scary look.” Nero shrank her neck and obediently closed the box.

But at this moment, suddenly came the sound of the bell at the entrance of the hall—not because of a guest coming in, but because Mo Mo lowered his head and rushed out from here.

You Ye looked on indifferently.

“Righteous fellow, not sticking around to have a meal to celebrate my narrow escape from death? Hey~~~~”

Nero shouted a couple of times, then looked at You Ye, shrugged, and said, “It seems he’s really gone… but to be honest, beautiful lady, weren’t you a bit strict?”

“Because there was no need or intention to deceive.” You Ye said softly, “This gentleman seemed to have some misunderstandings before, it’s better to correct them quickly.”

“I’m going to take a shower.” Nero yawned and stood up.

“Take care.” You Ye gracefully bowed to Nero.

…

…

He didn’t know why he rushed out like this… Mo Mo kept his head down, charging forward, feeling like he was a soldier fleeing.

Sprinting through several streets, with the special traits of a Taoist, this amount of exercise only made his body slightly warm, and the wind blowing on this cold day became a refreshing breeze.

Mo Mo exhaled, white mist puffing out from his lips and nose. The street wasn’t desolate at this time.

This place seems to be… where Nero and those two powerful Martial Artists battled.

Now the thick fog has dissipated, but the street is blocked off with barricades at both ends, and traffic police not on New Year’s Eve duty are supervising the area.

There are reporters here conducting interviews but they’re blocked by traffic police from entering the street… Nearby residents have also come out of their homes.

Mo Mo heard some conversations among the crowd.

The public doesn’t know much but it seems a family of three had a car accident, none survived… From a distance, the car involved in the accident, the vehicle that crashed, was already covered by a huge black tent by the traffic police, making it impossible to see its condition.

Meanwhile, Mo Mo saw two men who seemed different from ordinary policemen and traffic police… From these two men, Mo Mo sensed something familiar.

They wore a small badge… Remember that Captain Ling Feng of the Management Bureau seemed to have a similar ornament.

“People from the Management Bureau… Did they intervene in this matter?”

Mo Mo glanced a few times in the crowd, then quickly left the crowd.

He had heard from Elder Changhe that besides managing affairs between the Dao and Demon Realms, the Management Bureau often plays the role of a cleanup department, handling things like crazy demons damaging society or arresting Taoists who have fallen into the Demon Path.

Wondering if this matter will end up tracing back to Senior’s involvement… Mo Mo instinctively thought.

But he quickly slapped his cheeks with both hands and said self-mockingly, “At this point, why am I still thinking about him…”

…

Those who initially fainted in the thick fog have already begun waking up one after another, and how things will be handled afterwards is no longer Mo Mo’s concern.

Anyway, with the management bureau supported by the country, there’s bound to be a way to handle such matters, right?

Qingdao Beer.

It was bought on the way back… Mo Mo rarely drinks.