Chapter 291 - 230: Project Initiation: Zog’s First Public Welfare Project

Chapter 291: Chapter 230: Project Initiation: Zog’s First Public Welfare Project

Coal Ball stopped in his tracks, but still bared his teeth viciously at Old Mike.

The little kid came running up, panting, and whacked Coal Ball on the head with a wooden stick. A dog’s head is pretty tough; you can hit them without worry when they misbehave.

"Coal Ball, don’t be mean to strangers."

"WHIMPER..."

"Mister, were you scared?" the little kid asked with great concern. "Coal Ball just looks a little mean, but he’s actually a good dog."

"It’s alright." Old Mike waved his hand dismissively while pulling his hat down lower, afraid his appearance would scare the child.

"Mister, you’re a Tiefling, right?"

"I..."

"I think Tieflings look so cool, but I don’t know why nobody seems to like them."

Old Mike didn’t know what to say. He used to be one of those who hated Tieflings. He still was.

"Here’s an apple, as an apology from Coal Ball." The kid held out an apple that wasn’t exactly fresh.

"Thanks, but that’s okay. I’m not a big fan of apples." Old Mike declined the kind offer.

"Don’t be shy!"

The child ran over, trying to stuff the apple directly into Old Mike’s pocket.

"Vanessa! Get away from him!" a woman who looked to be the child’s mother shouted as she ran over. "Be careful, it’s dangerous!"

She pulled the child behind her. "Go home, now!"

She led the child and Coal Ball away, glancing back warily as she walked, keeping an eye on Old Mike’s movements.

She didn’t give Old Mike a chance to explain.

He pulled his hat down low again. He looked at the mud-caked apple on the ground, hesitated for a moment, then picked it up.

After wiping the mud off, it was a clean apple again.

But the mud on him could never be wiped away.

Old Mike put the apple in his pocket and stopped heading toward the docks.

He made a decision. If people were going to react to him with fear, then why not use that fear?

Old Mike turned and walked toward home. He would spend one last night as a law-abiding citizen. Starting tomorrow, he would become Mike the debt collector.

He went all the way home and composed himself at the door. ’No matter how much pressure I’m under, I can’t bring it home to my family.’

A moment later, he forced the kind of warm smile that said "world’s best dad" and opened the door.

"Welcome home!" his wife greeted him enthusiastically, her face beaming with a happy smile he hadn’t seen in days.

"What’s this? Is today a special occasion?"

Old Mike asked quizzically, looking at the lavish dinner on the table.

"Of course it’s special," his wife said, taking out a letter. "I never knew you had a talent for acting! Why did you keep it a secret from me? Were you trying to surprise me?"

"Me? What?"

Baffled, Old Mike took the letter. It was from the Zog Group, inviting him to shoot a short film. The amount of compensation was so high he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"To cover your two children’s future tuition, the Zog Group promises to pay for their entire education."

Zog had written with sincere wording in the letter.

It was a job with no reason to refuse. Even if it was just for a short film, it gave Old Mike, who was at the end of his rope, a precious glimmer of hope.

He could still find work.

"I just knew you’d find a job," his wife praised him from the side.

"What? Me? I wasn’t looking for a job," Old Mike said, still playing dumb.

"Oh, come on. You’re a terrible liar. You wear your heart on your sleeve. The Factory won’t hire someone who’s turned into a Tiefling; that news has been all over the streets."

Old Mike scratched his head in embarrassment.

「The next day.」

Old Mike arrived at the Zog Group on time.

Having never been to such a high-end place before, he was so nervous his leg wouldn’t stop shaking.

The shaking didn’t relieve his anxiety; it was just something to do unconsciously.

The clothes he wore were his best—a formal suit that could barely pass as evening wear. He’d worn it for his wedding, reserving it for important occasions. This was only the second time he had ever worn it.

"Hello, you must be Mr. Mike?" an attractive young woman in a Zog Group uniform asked politely as she approached him.

"Yes."

Old Mike wasn’t quite sure where to look.

’This young woman in front of me could probably pass for one of the stars in the Shadow of Evil films.’

’I don’t know why she’s stationed on the first floor, just greeting and registering people coming and going.’

Of course, he didn’t understand that there was a big difference between looking good in person and looking good on camera.

Besides, the Shadow of Evil films didn’t have any beautifying effects. To become a star on looks alone, you had to be more than just pretty.

Old Mike was led to the filming location, a room that looked very much like an ordinary person’s home.

However, several active Lighting Technique spells were positioned at various angles, making the room seem unusually bright.

"Hello, Mr. Mike. I’m Zog."

Old Mike had never shaken hands with a Dragon before. It felt a bit like holding a chicken’s foot.

"I am," he said, his voice strained.

"No need to be nervous. Today’s shoot is very simple. You just need to answer a few questions and talk about how your life has been after the Magic Vision Device incident."

"Um, my real feelings?"

"Hahaha," Zog laughed. "Of course not."

With that, he produced a script.

"Can you read?"

"More or less."

"Good. Just answer the questions according to this script. You don’t have to memorize it completely. The wording is a bit too formal, so just getting the general meaning across is fine."

Zog explained.

"Oh, okay." Old Mike took the script. He hadn’t learned to read as a child but as an adult, and he didn’t read much, so he was a little rusty. Still, he could just about make out the words.

He understood the gist of the script.

In summary: while the Magic Vision Device incident caused many negative effects, people had persevered. Life was now completely back to normal. They weren’t afraid of the Magic Vision Device and still watched it every day. The so-called Mammon Sect was just bluffing. Even turning him into a Tiefling wouldn’t make him submit.

’Definitely not my real feelings,’ he thought.

"Isn’t this just lying?" Old Mike blurted out.

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Whether it was a lie or not wasn’t important; what was important was that his children’s tuition and his own payment were about to disappear.

Old Mike wanted to slap himself twice. He really had no filter.

"I, I didn’t mean it like that."

"It’s okay. It’s normal to think it’s a lie."

Zog didn’t blame Old Mike, because he was, in fact, lying.

"But this is a white lie, meant to help Twin Tower City return to normal more quickly. The Magic Vision Devices are perfectly safe now, so of course there’s no need to be afraid. When you say so, people will listen and know that everything is fine. In short, this is for the good of everyone."

"Is that so?" Old Mike felt something was off. "That Mammon Sect... are they really not a problem anymore?"

Ever since that day, he hadn’t turned on the Magic Vision Device in his house. He’d even covered it with a box. He only kept it because it had cost a fortune and he couldn’t bear to throw it away.

"They’re not. Believe me," Zog said, his eyes sincere. "Look at the next page of your script. It’s meant to lead into the topic of how the Zog Group caught the culprit behind the incident."

Old Mike looked at the script.

"The word on the street is that the Demon responsible for the incident was caught and executed."

That’s what was written on the script.

"That’s not the word on the street," Old Mike pointed out another flaw.

"Don’t worry, it will be soon."

After saying this, Zog called over the wardrobe team. "Get him into a different outfit. He needs to look more like a worker. Right now he looks like he’s rushing off to his own wedding."

The shoot did not go smoothly. Old Mike was very nervous in front of the camera. Not only did he fidget a lot, but his voice would also involuntarily become strained and high-pitched.

A single-scene dialogue, less than ten minutes long, took nearly the entire day to film.

"Good work," Zog praised him after they wrapped.

For a complete amateur with no acting experience, his performance was acceptable.

"My children’s tuition... you’re not going to take it back, are you?"

Old Mike knew his performance had been problematic and asked nervously.

"Oh, of course not. Don’t worry. Is there anything else you need help with?"

Zog said, just to be polite.

He didn’t expect Old Mike to actually take him up on the offer.

"I was wondering... I was wondering if you could help the people who were turned into Tieflings. Most of them are having a very hard time right now," Old Mike said.

He had recently met so many people in the same situation at his support group.

They didn’t have the opportunity to star in a short film. Desperation might force them down a path of crime.

Seeing Zog’s prolonged silence, Old Mike added, "My request was too much."

"No," Zog said after a moment of silence. "It’s what I should be doing."

During that silence, Zog had instinctively started calculating whether helping the Tieflings would be profitable.

The calculation went back and forth until he had to laugh at himself.

If he didn’t bear some social responsibility, who would? Was he going to let the poor save the world?

Besides, a more stable society was always a net gain for the Zog Group.

"Yes. It’s what I should be doing."

Zog said again, this time with conviction.