Everyone's expression changed in an instant.

If he makes good on his promise, it will be indeed a life-changing opportunity.

Problem is, are his promises trustworthy?

Nash spoke up then and voiced everyone's doubt. “Are you telling the truth? Can you guarantee weekly meat supplies for us?”

Zeke nodded. “Of course.”

Nash continued, “Your words sound so far-fetched that it's hard to believe you.”

“Oh? Tell me, what part of my promise is difficult to believe?”

“You need a hundred drops of spiritual water to ensure a consistent weekly supply of meat. How can you gather so much spiritual water in a week?” asked Nash.

Zeke chuckled. “Nash, you used to be in the same Contubernium as me. You should know how long I've been here.”

After counting off his fingers, Nash said, “Not more than seven days.”

“That's right. In these seven days, other than the twenty drops of spiritual water offered to the former Decanus, Megahead, I also saved a hundred drops of spiritual water to exchange for the meat here. Still, I have plenty of spiritual water left over.”

As he spoke, Zeke produced a small porcelain bottle and shook it gently.

The sound of spiritual water splashing against the insides of the bottle rang out in the air.

Everyone was thunderstruck.

Even if one were to assume there were thirty drops of spiritual water in Zeke's bottle, that meant Zeke had collected a hundred and fifty drops of spiritual water in the span of seven days.

How on earth did he accomplish that?

One would be hard-pressed to repeat the same feat even if they scoured every nook and cranny in the outer district.

Megahead barked, “Calm down, everyone. Listen to me; don't believe his boasts. Only a fool would believe his claim of collecting a hundred and fifty drops of spiritual water in a week alone. He must've killed others and stolen their spiritual water.”

Scoffing, Zeke retorted, “Only a fool would believe your lies. If I killed others and stole their spiritual water, at least a hundred and fifty people would've died. Did you observe so many deaths in the outer district? Plus, would the Chieftain let such outrageous actions go unpunished? On that note, there isn't enough spiritual water in the outer district to make up a hundred and fifty drops.”

The crowd erupted into whispers.

“The newcomer has a point.”

“My lord, a hundred and fifty drops over seven days still sounds rather fantastical to me.”

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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