Chapter 478: Conspirator, Meeting Connor Webb Again

Chapter 478: Chapter 478: Conspirator, Meeting Connor Webb Again

Winston’s Magic Chef Talent gave him a new recipe every day, allowing him to cook all sorts of strange and special food.

’What if he just so happened to have the ingredients for a recipe like Enslavement Meatballs?’

’That alone was already incredibly dangerous.’

And then there was that "conspiracy reward" from his Power of the Beloved.

He gets rewarded for completing conspiracies, and the bigger the scheme, the greater the reward.

’Isn’t the damn system just encouraging him to stir up trouble every single day?’

’This bowl of Enslavement Meatballs was probably just one small part of his numerous plots.’

Seraphina Sullivan calmly withdrew her gaze.

Her face held the curious expression of an ordinary passerby as she casually asked, "Do all the pets in the base love to eat these?"

Winston smiled and nodded, his grin so sincere that it was impossible to find fault with.

"They do. I’ve been running this stall for almost a month, and I have a lot of repeat customers.

Want to buy some for your little cat to try? It’s not expensive. A small portion is just five Contribution Points."

He glanced down at the black cat in Seraphina Sullivan’s arms, his smile growing even warmer. "Look at your little cat—so adorable, and its coat is so glossy. If it eats my meatballs, it’ll definitely be even more attached to you."

The black cat—Sean Chandler—let out a perfectly timed yawn as Winston looked over, showing zero interest in the meatballs.

Seraphina sneered internally.

’Enslave Sean Chandler?’

’You have no idea how much of a handful he is.’

Outwardly, however, she just shook her head and offered a polite smile. "My cat’s a picky eater. He doesn’t eat outside food; I’m afraid he’ll get an upset stomach. Thanks, though."

With that, she turned and walked away, cat in arms, without a backward glance.

Behind her, Winston’s smile remained, though his gaze lingered on her back for a moment.

It was the same kind of look Seraphina had given him when she was analyzing him just moments before.

Scrutinizing, appraising—as if evaluating a piece of merchandise waiting for a price tag.

’This Winston guy is a huge problem.’

Seraphina walked on at a steady pace, holding her cat, her mind replaying the long string of data she had just seen.

’A pure schemer.’

’His entire path of progression was built on ’stirring up trouble’.’

’The bigger the scheme, the richer the reward, and the more Skills he acquired.’

’No wonder his list of Skills was as long as a shopping list.’

’Over twenty Skills.’

Seraphina herself had only amassed so many Skills thanks to the ridiculously overpowered mechanic of her [Worker] Talent, which let her copy one Skill after returning from a dungeon.

’How many dungeons had she painstakingly cleared, and how many Professions had she cycled through, just to build up her current arsenal?’

’And what did this Winston rely on?’

’Screwing people over.’

’Manipulation.’

’Hiding in the shadows, stirring up chaos, and then reaping all the rewards.’

’I really don’t know if having someone like him in the Central Base is a good thing or a bad thing,’

Seraphina muttered to herself.

But it was just a passing thought.

’Good thing, bad thing—what does it have to do with me?’

’I came here to deal with Connor Webb, then take my people and get out of this godforsaken place.’

’Once I’m gone, whether the Central Base is destroyed or thrives, whether it’s Winston causing trouble or someone else, it won’t have a damn thing to do with me.’

Behind her, after Seraphina had left, the warm smile on the one-armed man’s face slowly vanished.

He sat behind his stall, his one arm hanging at his side, his gaze dark as he stared in the direction the woman and cat had disappeared.

Then, he raised his hand—his only remaining one.

He pulled a simple, antique-looking metal bracelet from under the stall. A faint, dark red light swirled across its surface.

[Death Detection Bracelet]

It was a piece of equipment he’d gotten from a high-difficulty Treasure Chest a long time ago.

Its Effect was simple, yet practical.

It could detect any presence that posed a mortal threat to him.

The greater the threat, the brighter the light.

Just moments ago, when the woman holding the cat had been standing at his stall, the bracelet had lit up.

It hadn’t just lit up.

It had been flashing frantically.

It had only ever flashed with that intensity when he faced opponents in certain dungeons that drove him to despair.

Yet that woman looked completely ordinary—the type you’d lose in a crowd.

And the cat in her arms—that was definitely no ordinary cat.

The bracelet’s reaction to the cat had been almost as intense as its reaction to the woman.

Both the woman and the cat could easily kill him.

Winston was silent for a long time.

Then he lowered his head, looked at the bowl of unsold Enslavement Meatballs on his stall, and a cryptic smile slowly formed on his lips.

"Interesting..." he murmured.

"When did two such formidable people arrive at the base?"

His hand unconsciously stroked the bracelet, his eyes glinting.

He was in the middle of plotting a grand conspiracy.

A conspiracy that could potentially plunge the entire Central Base into ruin.

He didn’t care.

What did the survival of the base or the lives of the survivors have to do with him?

He just needed to complete his scheme, collect his reward, and become stronger.

But the appearance of this woman and her cat introduced a new variable into his plan.

"Should I continue with the plan..."

He fell into deep thought.

But after a moment, he smiled.

This smile was far more sincere than the one he’d shown Seraphina while peddling his snacks—and far more dangerous.

"I’ll continue," he said softly.

"But first, I need to find out who these two really are."

...

Seraphina had no idea what had just transpired behind her.

She continued to wander through the trading area, the black cat in her arms squinting lazily, looking for all the world like an ordinary pet.

The trading area was large and crowded, with a motley collection of stalls.

She walked past a stall selling mutated plant seeds, another selling second-hand energy weapons, and one selling strange specimens...

Then, she stopped in her tracks.

Standing before a stall not far ahead was a figure she knew all too well.

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed slightly.

’What a coincidence.’

’I haven’t even started looking for him, and he’s delivered himself right to me.’

The trading area was bustling with people. Connor Webb stood behind his stall, for once not accompanied by his so-called "wives."

He was alone, sticking out a large belly that was particularly conspicuous in the apocalypse, his face beaming with smug satisfaction.

’He must be here to sell whatever he got from the dungeon.’

Seraphina could tell.

Connor Webb was in an excellent mood.

The smugness, the satisfied anticipation of being showered with praise, was practically oozing from his greasy face.

He had barely found a spot and set up his stall before people immediately started gathering around.

"Connor! You’re finally here!" A scrawny man with sharp, simian features was the first to squeeze to the front of the stall, his face plastered with a grin. "Heard you just got back from a dungeon run. You must have some good stuff, right? Let your little bro get a look!"

"Yeah, yeah!" another burly, thuggish-looking man chimed in.

"The rest of us were just trying to survive in that dungeon; we didn’t get a single thing. But you’re a man of real talent, Connor! You must have some serious loot! Bring it out and let us have a look!"

More people crowded in.

Some genuinely wanted to buy something, some were just there for the spectacle, and others had a glint in their eyes, clearly there to size him up.