Chapter Thirty-Two: Brazen Seizure

“Hey, friend.”

Just as Yang Fan was about to pick up the equipment, an unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded behind him.

He turned around and saw the group from earlier. At the front stood the young man wielding a staff, and beside him was the girl in the white dress, supported by another young woman. Yang Fan’s sharp eyes caught the way their gazes flickered toward his equipment.

With his intelligence seventeen times that of an ordinary person, Yang Fan instantly pieced things together. These people clearly wanted a share of the spoils. Realizing this, his heart turned cold. When he had needed their help, they’d shown no willingness—perhaps understandable, given the apocalyptic world, where there was no obligation to lend a hand. But now that he had taken down the boss, they suddenly appeared, hoping to help themselves to the loot? In what world did such good fortune fall from the sky? Even someone with a fiery temper would likely start swearing on the spot.

A trace of menace flashed in Yang Fan’s eyes, but he quickly restrained it. These people obviously believed his strength had been depleted and were preparing to use force if he refused to share. Yang Fan now felt nothing but disdain for them, except for the girl in the white dress.

“What’s the matter?” Yang Fan didn’t overestimate himself. He intended to pick up the equipment first, but at that moment, a strange energy surged in the air. Yang Fan tensed, half-bent as he eyed the group. From the corner of his eye, he saw the young man with the staff conjure a ball of lightning the size of a goose egg.

“A lightning mage,” Yang Fan thought, startled. The mage class generally followed the five elements—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—and included light, wind, ice, flame, and thunder, ten types in all. Of these, ice and fire were the easiest to obtain; light and thunder were the rarest, while darkness was a hidden, special class.

A lightning mage’s skills dealt 150% of the damage of their peers—formidable indeed. Feeling the invisible threat, Yang Fan’s expression shifted.

“What do you mean by this?” Yang Fan straightened up, feigning panic, then forced himself to appear calm. He wasn’t playing the fool to catch the tiger off guard, but rather testing whether these people deserved mercy. If they went too far, he would show no restraint.

The young man with the staff saw Yang Fan’s momentary panic, then his forced composure, and sneered inwardly. He exchanged glances with his companions, sharing a knowing smile.

“Nothing much, brother. Don’t worry. We’re not here to rob you. But don’t you think it’s a bit much to keep everything for yourself?” The handsome staff wielder spoke with an even tone.

“I fought for these myself. Why should I give you any?” Yang Fan replied with a trace of mockery.

“The items are yours, but our group helped you too.”

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“Exactly. If it weren’t for our little sister lending a hand, you’d have been killed back there.” The others all chimed in, including a haughty young woman. Only the girl in the white dress and the one supporting her remained silent. The former, aware that her companions were in the wrong, finally spoke softly after their outburst: “We’re not trying to take your things—we just want to buy your equipment.”

Her voice was calm, clearly trying to explain the situation.

“To buy? Is this what you call a buying attitude?” Yang Fan felt no animosity toward the girl, but his words were aimed at the others.

“Apologies. My friends were out of line,” the staff-wielding young man said, surprisingly without arrogance, offering a smile instead. Clearly, he was determined to get the equipment.

This threw Yang Fan off slightly; he had expected more excuses, not such directness.

“So, how much are you offering? Name a price. I only accept Doomsday Coins.”

Standing before them, Yang Fan deliberately put on a show of bravado that was all bark and no bite.

“We won’t shortchange you. In this world, no one knows the true value of Doomsday Coins, but we can make an estimate. My staff is a silver-grade item, and I got five hundred Doomsday Coins from a treasure chest, so they’re roughly equivalent. We’ll give you six hundred Doomsday Coins for one silver-grade chest item. As for your two bronze-grade items, we’ve opened bronze chests ourselves—those are two hundred coins each. We’ll give you three hundred. In total, one thousand one hundred coins for three items. You’re making a profit,” he said with a smile, though the offer was insulting.

Three hundred coins for a top-tier bronze item, six hundred for a possibly top-tier silver? Might as well be robbery. Yang Fan was both amused and angry. From the Doomsday Merchants, a single bronze item started at one thousand coins—let alone a top-tier one. As for silver, Yang Fan could only laugh at their offer.

“I’m not selling.” Yang Fan replied icily and began picking up the equipment. Sell to them? He’d rather toss the items to a Doomsday Merchant—at least that way he might get a special reward or a hidden quest.

Giving the items to these people was no different from throwing away trash.

But they showed no concern. At the staff-wielder’s signal, they began to circle Yang Fan.

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By the time Yang Fan finished gathering the equipment, he realized he was surrounded.

“What is the meaning of this?” Yang Fan’s expression grew cold.

“Nothing much. If there’s no deal, let’s talk principle. How about we rent the items for five hundred Doomsday Coins? Just for one day,” the handsome young mage said with a smile.

This was robbery in disguise. Once the items were in their hands, would they ever return them? It was sheer fantasy.

After collecting everything, Yang Fan said nothing more. He handed the silver-grade longbow to the girl in the white dress and said, “This is yours. Thank you for your help.”

Though he could have escaped on his own, Yang Fan was a man who repaid kindness. A favor, no matter how small, would be returned a hundredfold. But a grudge, even an arrow’s worth, would be repaid a hundred times over.

Seeing Yang Fan give the silver longbow to the girl, the others took it as a sign of weakness and smirked in satisfaction.

Once the item was delivered, Yang Fan turned to leave. He was curious to see what these people would do next.

“Brother, you can go, but the items stay.”

Just as he was turning away, the handsome young man with the staff spoke coldly…

(Thank you to Bullhead, Old Trouble, and Shadowless for your rewards, and to all the brothers who support me with votes and comments. Today, I saw Brother Luoran’s review in the comments section. I thought about it and realized he made a good point. Creating a truly outstanding book isn’t easy, but I have the heart for it and will keep working toward that goal. I’ll gradually revise the story as he suggested. My main aim is to avoid writing an unfinished or sloppy novel, and to provide a compelling story that’s enjoyable to read to the end, not one that leaves you frustrated. As for style and technique, I’m still learning, but I’ll keep working hard and improving. Thank you all for your support—like the protagonist, I will repay every kindness a hundredfold. I’ve opened a bug-report thread in the comments, so if you spot any typos or awkward sentences, please let me know—I’ll correct them immediately and award 15 points. Thanks again for your support. Our official QQ group is 301258159—Dragon King, Starwind, and everyone else are waiting for you. Why is the group full of girls? I’m so conflicted!)