Chapter 1051: Section 1052 Hunting Museum

The eviction process was utterly farcical.

It all began with Canaan politely asking the young fire demon to leave. However, the fire demon wouldn’t listen and instead mischievously played a game of “you can’t catch me” around the yard.

Just when the young fire demon turned its head and stuck out its tongue to mock Canaan again, Fafnir took action.

She descended with formidable presence, and under the terrified gaze of the young fire demon, Fafnir grabbed its long, black tail and flung it as if throwing a javelin.

Swinging in a circle, exerting force, and then a throw.

A fiery red ball was launched in a parabolic trajectory and landed outside the shop. As the young fire demon tumbled and bounced around disoriented, a bag containing three hundred Demon Gold Coins also conveniently fell beside it.

Angel thought that with Fafnir’s intimidation, the young fire demon would not dare to return.

However, he had underestimated the demon’s persistence.

After sending off this batch of visitors, Angel’s private stash finally exceeded ten thousand Demon Gold Coins, with a.s.sets close to sixteen thousand.

Canaan had already started preparing to receive the next batch of customers, but at this time, Angel told it to call it a day.

And as compensation, he paid Canaan ten Demon Gold Coins.

Though Canaan found it strange—it had only attended to three groups of customers and the day was still young—why close the shop already? But in the end, it was just a little clerk and did not interfere with the shop owner’s decision.

Moreover, Canaan really wanted to get revenge on the Serpent Tail Demon that had humiliated it the day before, so after accepting the generous compensation, it prepared to bid farewell to Angel.

However, just as Canaan was about to leave, opening the door to the shop, it saw a fireball squatting under the door frame.

This fireball was the very young fire demon that Fafnir had thrown out earlier.

At that moment, the young fire demon’s previously round eyes had turned into upside-down triangles, filled with rage in its fiery pupils.

Canaan looked back at the shop owner, uncertain of how to handle the situation, when Angel came over and said with a squint, “Off you go, I’ll handle this.”

Canaan unconsciously took a few steps forward, curious to see how Angel would deal with the young fire demon, but then heard a “bang—” as the door was abruptly closed.

Canaan and the young fire demon were both locked outside.

Canaan: “…” Is this what you call handling it?

Disheveled in the wind, Canaan watched as the young fire demon, thrown out and treated like a slammed door, pulled out a fire sword from its mouth, ready to slash at the wooden door.

Canaan hesitated about whether to stop it, but before it could decide, Fafnir appeared in front of the young fire demon. Just like before, the young fire demon was swung out, with terror in its eyes.

By the looks of the arc, this time it was flung even farther than the last.

After confirming there was no need for its help at the Misty Cabin, Canaan left the area. It hadn’t been long after Canaan reached the main road that it saw the young fire demon, dimmer sparks than before, angrily making its way toward the Misty Cabin.

Canaan thought it saw moisture filling the eyes of the young fire demon, but was it an illusion? How could a fire system demon possibly cry?

Canaan shook its head and decided not to pay attention to the young fire demon anymore. With the formidable Fafnir holding down the fort, there was no need for concern.

Meanwhile, Angel was elated after counting the day’s income. Just yesterday he was considering whether to change his money-making strategy, but today he’d exceeded his goals and saved a lot of time—he couldn’t be happier.

Managing to achieve his target with such ease was thanks not only to the exceptional effects of the Marine Rhythm but also owed a lot to Pulapa’s enthusiastic promotion. Angel thought that later, when he went to the Hunting Museum, he could give Pulapa some reward.

That’s right, his plan now was to head to the Hunting Museum.

First to hand over the Undying Flame Bone’s money to the Night Manager, and secondly, as an indigenous person, it was nearly impossible for him to purchase supplies in La.s.sudral on his own; he needed the Night Manager to buy them on his behalf.

So no matter what, a visit to the Hunting Museum was necessary.

When Angel came down from the attic, he could hear someone pounding on the door outside, echoing like a drum. Fafnir was dozing at the round table and only raised her eyebrows when Angel came downstairs.

The one knocking outside was none other than the young fire demon. It seemed furious, making noise around the wooden house, but it didn’t dare to be too reckless. With Fafnir nearby, it feared being thrown out again.

Angel informed Fafnir of his subsequent itinerary. Fafnir waved her hand, indifferent to what Angel had planned.

With the young fire demon at the front entrance, it was obviously inconvenient for Angel to leave that way. The backyard was s.h.i.+elded by an Illusion Technique. Opening Boundless Solitude, Angel sneaked out from the back.

When leaving the woods, Angel eyed the young Fire Demon from a distance.

Having been swung around twice, it now stood at the doorway looking as if it wanted to rage but didn’t dare to, a picture of pitiful grievance utterly bereft of its prior mischievousness.

With a shake of his head and a smile, Angel withdrew his gaze.

Despite the demons all around, the Hunting Museum was not far, and after days of encountering various demons, Angel gradually came to understand some aspects of their ecology. Unveiling the terror of demons had, in fact, made him less fearful.

After all, he was bold enough to employ a Half-Blood Demon as a shop a.s.sistant.

In addition to this, he now possessed the Flame Mark and the dragon scales from Binaqionse, which to some extent provided him with safety. And since the Hunting Museum and the Misty Cabin were nearby, he dared to venture out alone.

On his way, Angel didn’t attract the attention of any demons and arrived at the Hunting Museum without issue.

The Hunting Museum was immense, almost rivaling his replicated Marine Theater in Originheart City, but the Marine Theater after all was a human master’s architectural miracle, more intricate and delicate in appearance.

Of course, such intricacy and delicacy appealed to Angel because it matched his aesthetic, which didn’t mean the Hunting Museum lacked its own charm.

The distinctiveness of demon architecture lay in its bizarre style. The Hunting Museum was no different; had he not known it was a shop that sold hunting materials, Angel might have mistaken it for the dreadful church of some evil cult.

Angel pushed open the heavy door; only the silver candelabra near the entrance were lit, casting a dim glow across two meters. Beyond that was pitch darkness, like an other-dimensional s.p.a.ce shrouded in black mist.

The floor, checkered in black and white, echoed his hollow footsteps, giving off a hair-raising rhythm as he walked.

After about a dozen steps, Angel stopped as he heard heavy footsteps coming from ahead.

From the darkness, a point of light flickered to life.

Fiery hair and the ferocious flame patterns on the face emerged from the dark.

“Mr. Night.”

“Come inside and talk,” responded Night, nodding at Angel before turning and signaling for him to follow.

With Night’s stride, the candles of the Hunting Museum lit up one by one. Once dark and foreboding, the museum now looked bright and s.p.a.cious. The echoing footsteps of the two men filled the vast s.p.a.ce, and the reverberation, like a fuzzy edge to their steps, inexplicably left Angel with a feeling of solitude.

Night led Angel through to the reception room. As they pa.s.sed the Exhibition Room, Angel glanced inside unintentionally.

The first glance at the various horrifying monster specimens startled him, but at the second, he was drawn to a huge painting at the back of the room.

Against a black backdrop, a ribbon of flame cut across it.

It was as though fierce burning flames had scorched a hole through the dark night.

The painting was simple, but Angel felt it conveyed an undercurrent of struggling discontent and defiance beneath its calm surface as if piercing straight through the painting.

Angel was still somewhat in a daze when he arrived at the reception room. For some reason, when he looked up and saw Night sitting across from him, the painting came to his mind unconsciously.

“You seem a bit distracted?” a deep, husky voice reached Angel’s ears.

“I was looking at that painting in the Exhibition Hall earlier—it seemed very…” Angel thought of many words to describe it but felt none were quite right, so he concluded, “…distinctive.”

“Distinctive? I thought you’d find it dull, considering how simplistic the imagery is.”

“I wouldn’t call it simple. The messages it conveyed to me are complex: calm, tumultuous, struggling, repressed, and unyielding.” Angel paused. “To be honest, I feel as if looking at that painting is like seeing Mr. Night.”

If others had heard this conclusion, they might have laughed out loud, but Night seemed pensive for a moment, as if reminded of many years ago when his old friend had said the same thing with a smile: “Guess what I’ve painted?” Without waiting for an answer, the friend declared, “I’ve painted you.”

As Night looked at Angel across from him, a smile suddenly played at his lips, and in a voice that was almost a mutter, he said, “Indeed, the perspective of humans, compared to that of demons, seems to be more interesting.”

Angel was startled; Night was muttering to himself, but Angel still heard the content.

The perspective of humans? So, did Night realize he was a human?

After the moment of realization, Angel felt it was to be expected. Of course, Fafnir had appeared quite wary and guarded when he first met Night, which suggested that Night’s power was by no means insignificant. That Night could see through his true form wasn’t surprising.

However, the fact that Angel was now protected by the Flame Mark and yet Night could still see he was human made him somewhat suspicious. Could it be that Night was stronger than Odecla.s.s?

“Let’s not talk about the painting now. Have you come to me because you’ve earned enough Demon Gold Coins?” Night s.h.i.+fted the topic and refrained from continuing the previous one, instead asking about the reason for Angel’s visit.

Though Night did not constantly monitor the Misty Cabin, given the Hunting Museum was quite close to it, he couldn’t help noticing several demons exuding unusual Water Elemental Energy pa.s.sing by the museum’s entrance. Piecing the clues together, he could roughly estimate that Angel had made quite a sum that day.