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Chapter 527: Spice Nation

Gao Yang, Qing Ling, and Nainai watched the movies all night; they learned more dance moves than they did the language.

Eleven in the morning, the Action Unit boarded a flight to the Spice Nation as a small group of tourists. War Tiger, Gao Yang, and Qing Ling sat together. On the way, they talked about the Mist World without using the actual terms.

War Tiger revealed that Dr. Jia had spent most of his time doing research in the Spice Nation, and over the past twenty years, he came to one conclusion: the Mist World was quietly shrinking.

The area of activity in the Spice Nation, for example, had become a third of its original size over the past few decades, and the number of wanderers had decreased by twenty-five percent—as had happened to Rogue Cape, where Lithe Snake once lived.

“Then why hasn’t Li City gotten smaller?” Gao Yang asked in a low voice.

He used to live in the fringe rural area of Li City, and the place still existed when he went to his old home. It seemed that Li City hadn’t been shrinking.

“That I don’t know,” said War Tiger. “You can ask Dr. Jia once we meet him.”

...

Five o’clock in the afternoon, the plane landed.

The airport was spacious and extravagantly designed, looking as expensive as a palace. That, however, made the area outside the airport look even more rural and underdeveloped.

The six of them went up to a yellow taxi without rear-view mirrors. War Tiger took the lead and bargained with the driver in awkward Spice Nation language. He told the driver their destination before asking for the price.

“2000.” The driver was a slightly overweight middle-aged man. He had dark skin and black, bushy beard, his head tightly wrapped in an orange headdress.

“500,” War Tiger offered.

“No no no, 1000 at the lowest.” Through the window, the driver started shaking his head, or he might be nodding.

“250,” War Tiger said impassively.

“No no no no no, no can do. Absolutely not.” The driver frowned and waved his hand while bobbing his head. “At least 500.”

“150...”

“Then 250. Come on, come on!” The driver quickly hopped off the car and opened the door for them. “Get in, get in!”

Gray Bear gaped. “I’ve never seen someone haggle like this!”

War Tiger smiled shrewdly. “You’re a big guy, Gray Bear. Take the passenger seat. We’ll sit in the back.”

“But there are six of us!” Gray Bear was stunned. “Isn’t this illegal?”

Having visited the country a few times, War Tiger said dismissively, “Six aren’t many. It can even take double the number! Haven’t you heard of the saying? In Spice Nation, don’t ever guess how many passengers there are in a car.”

“Ha, I thought that was an exaggeration.” Gray Bear took the passenger seat, and the five other people squeezed into the backseat.

Gao Yang, Lithe Snake, Nine Frost, and War Tiger were on the slim side, and they just about fill the car by alternating between leaning forward and sitting back. Qing Ling, on the other hand, had to sit on Gao Yang’s lap.

“Is there really a need to be this stingy?” Gray Bear asked in confusion, using their native language. “We’re saving the world. This is unbecoming.”

“You don’t know the way,” said War Tiger. “If we take two cars, who knows where the driver will take you to?”

“Right.” Gray Bear huffed and fell silent.

The car left the airport and headed toward the city, going past rural areas where underdeveloped villages, rundown thatched houses with tapered rooftops, and herds of cattles and lambs were.

Soon, they entered the urban area. While there were quite a lot of tall buildings, the planning of it left something to be desired. The population was dense, and the streets and alleyways a maze to navigate.

The driver parked by a crossroad, letting the passengers get out of the car.

As soon as they did, they attracted the eyes of the locals. And they didn’t sneak glances at them, no. The locals openly stared at them like they were zoo animals.

Qing Ling felt unnerved, thinking they had exposed themselves. She almost drew her blade.

War Tiger stopped a tragedy from happening by explaining that it was just the way people in Spice Nation were.

They made it across the chaotic marketplace. The great variety of strange delicious food drew the eyes. Qing Ling stared when she saw two young men throwing a pita bread between them at a pita stand.

Alerted, Gao Yang quickly dragged Qing Ling away. “Banish the thought. It’s risky.”

Qing Ling frowned, displeased. “I was just looking. I wasn’t gonna have any.”

War Tiger hailed a seven-seater three-wheeled car after leaving the market. Once he agreed on a price with the old driver, the others hopped on.

Twenty minutes passed in bumpy driving. Then they finally reached the rich neighborhood.

It was like a different world from the regular residential areas. Here, the environment was beautiful, and the streets were wide and clean. The six of them went up to a modern looking light gray mansion.

War Tiger rang the doorbell. Soon, a strange grating voice came from the inside. It didn’t sound human at all.

“Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?”

“War Tiger, a friend of Dr. Jia.”

The other party seemed to think for a moment before repeating, “Friend, open the door, friend, open the door...”

A few seconds later, the automatic metal door opened.

The six of them walked across the lawn of the front yard and the outdoor swimming pool, reaching the entryway. The door wasn’t closed. War Tiger strode in before his face darkened.

Gao Yang got ready for a fight immediately, checking his system for a warning.

“What is it?” Gao Yang asked in a low voice.

“Something’s wrong. Be careful.” War Tiger walked into the house quickly, and the others followed.

The interior was spacious, the design simple yet sophisticated, and the space well-illuminated. The floor was a smooth marble that was cool to the touch, and the walls were white. The heavy curtains were gray. The main color palette was a subdued hue of brown.

Below the crystal chandelier was a large gray rug with Persian style patterns, on which was a beige leather sofa. The blood splattered on the sofa seemed to have dried.

They lightened their steps and held their breaths as they approached, taking in the scene of death.

A naked dead man with curled hair lay on the rug, his limbs splayed. The pool of blood he was lying in had congealed, and a small Black Gold dagger was buried in his abdomen—the only object on his body.

War Tiger rushed up to him and grabbed a sleeping robe from the sofa to cover the body. Then he crouched down to feel the man’s breath.

A few seconds later, he pressed his fingers to the man’s neck to check his pulse.

Standing up, War Tiger sighed. “Dr. Jia’s gone.”