Nam Sung - Legendary Moonlight Sculptor Volume 17

He used one guild as an example and thoroughly destroyed them. After that, the criticism against him became harsh, and the public opinion of him plummeted. Then he thrashed them again. Without any reserve, he tore them all apart.

After numerous repetitions of thrashing, other guilds also took heed and cowered.

Although coalitions against him were formed several times, he lured them into dungeons and annihilated them one by one.

Weed fought cleverly.

Fighting a group single-handedly was actually an extremely difficult task. He was a demon who took advantage of his surroundings, used items without reserve, and killed his enemies one by one!

The Merchant asked, “Even so, it seems like they don't think too badly of Weed. There aren't many players from the Continent of Magic who would curse Weed.”

The Merchant who had been explaining nodded his head in agreement. “Because it was when the Continent of Magic was gradually losing popularity, something new was necessary. Who wouldn't feel satisfied watching him complete unsolved quests, breakthrough labyrinths, uncover the secrets of mysterious dungeons, and slaying extremely powerful monsters?”

People did not hate Weed.

Even in Royal Road, Weed hunted and quested with unmatched recklessness. Though in truth, he couldn't help but receive requests because of his high Fame. He barely finished them by suffering to near death, but others could only give up in the middle without making any progress.

For guilds raising excitement with power expansion or players tired of repetitive hunting, Weed was like a fresh beam of light. Even guilds or players who were completely hostile towards Weed could not help but acknowledge that, at least.

“Even the highbrow guilds completely avoided him because they were afraid of getting in a fight with Weed.”

“Was it that bad?”

“He was someone who everyone wanted to become friendly with, even while staying away from him and dying. Someone you wanted to at least imprint your name onto.”

“He must've emitted an incredible atmosphere.”

“If you were hunting in a hunting ground and heard Weed had appeared nearby, you'd get a feeling of goosebumps prickling all over your skin. You wouldn't know how it feels unless you've experienced it.”

You're getting pumped up while hunting with your teammates as you share a peaceful conversation. Then, Weed appears in the vicinity.

A silent and frightening atmosphere.

The problem was not the quest nor the monsters, you'd want to leave your party and go there because you were curious about what Weed was doing.

In actuality, it was to the point where it was difficult to count every individual who had been interested in Weed's actions and had died while following him.

“You'd hear about Weed challenging the quests in the Continent of Magic that looked absolutely impossible, and going into places no one had ever gone to before without even a shred of fear.”

“But there must've been times when he failed, right?”

“Of course. He probably failed a ton of times. But eventually, he succeeded. Only monster remains were left in dungeons Weed had gone through, the most awesome moments must've occurred.”

The records Weed had established in the Continent of Magic continued to spread for a long time.

“So that was Weed.”

“The more I hear, the more surprising and awesome it is. It's definitely fun to hear it from a person who experienced it firsthand.”

“The strongest in the Continent of Magic, Weed. That person is the one standing right there; Morata's Lord.”

The crowd's eyes were filled with respect!

Weed folded his arms and looked up. As the movement portal quietly emitted blue light, suspense filled the air.

After excruciating agony and inner conflict, he had won over his temptations.

“Not yet. Taxes have to be raised stealthily. So that people can't feel it…”

If he suddenly raised the taxes just because there were more people, he would meet great resistance.

'It also needs justification. To make them think the taxes really had to be raised, that there was no helping it, I need a justification they can understand! Without it, they won't even accept a tax increase.'

Having overcome his greed, Weed put his rucksack onto the ground and sat down. Weed was the type of person who placed no value on luxuries. Unlike others, he had never gone to a fancy restaurant or bought a meal for female players. He obtained carving tools or even blacksmithing goods through hunting or gathering and used them self-sufficiently.

The sum he had to invest in Morata to reap a huge profit later was enormous, so he needed lots of money.

MOOOOO!

With a cry, a gentle-looking cow emerged from the portal.

Yellowy was being used as a luggage carrier. Even his back was strapped with countless backpacks filled with japtem, acquired from hunting near the River of Lamentations.

The backpacks he had prepared ahead of time had been filled to the brim, and the large bags he had made with his Tailoring skill were also full.

“It should be somewhere around here…”

Weed rummaged through his backpacks and pulled out a sword.

A sword sharpened to a keen edge!

“This is not ordinary japtem! I'm selling japtem, as well as clothes, armor, and weapons in small quantities!”

The start of his japtem sale!

It only took an instant for the heavy atmosphere in the square to dissipate.

“Ehh, what the hell, he's selling goods.”

“I was alarmed for no reason.”

Because Weed had accumulated such enormous notoriety, even Morata's Soldiers and Knights had appeared, creating a rigid atmosphere. When Weed pulled out a sword on top of it all, the crowd held their breaths in alarm.

Now, although their interest in Weed was just as great as before, the grimness had disappeared and the square's characteristic noisy and carefree atmosphere returned.

“Excuse me.”

A Merchant who had been doing business nearby bravely spoke up. In front of the movement portal, Weed and Yellowy were positioned in the very middle of the square.

“Yes?”

“Are you really the Wargod Weed?”

“Heh, I'll leave it to your imagination.”

Weed did not deny it. However, the Merchant who had asked nodded his head.

“Looks like you aren't him.”

“He says he's not, right?”

“Yeah. He's not him.”

“…”

That was the judgement the Merchants made on their own. On the other hand, there were quite a few people who believed Weed was the Continent of Magic's Wargod. The people who personally watched Weed's adventure through the broadcast thought differently, and they were also divided based on their judgements of his level or profession. However, the majority of people couldn't decide which side was right and were still on the fence.

The Merchants looked greedily at Weed and Yellowy's backpacks.

“But, ah, you have quite a lot of japtem.”

“That's because I hunted diligently.” Weed replied indifferently as he laid out his japtem. Customers hadn't arrived yet, and he was preparing to do business.

As he gazed avariciously at the laid out japtem, the Merchant proposed, “Would you be willing to sell all that japtem to me? I'll give you a good price for them.”

Weed shook his head. “I will sell them myself.”

“But it'll be better for me, a Merchant, to take care of them. Business is not so easy.”

The Merchant gave him advice, but Weed didn't need to pay attention to him. He had become skilled at business since he was 10 years old. His learning had started by following a grandma selling vegetables in the marketplace!

“Caltrop Antennas! Black Wild Boar Fangs! I don't sell to just anyone. Since they're not cheap japtem, you can just take a look and go.”