Chapter 270 - 35: Reality Is Always More Terrifying

When the clown came out of the conference room, his face was pale.

Although he had long known that the Madhouse was full of talent and countless madmen, only after seeing it for himself did he understand how terrifying they were.

They were actually plotting to poison the government-rationed food!

He had thought the Magician was just kidding, but the plan he laid out for the mayor was so logical and well-reasoned that the clown feared both his ideas and his ability to execute them.

The Magician’s poison was a chronic neurotoxin that would cause its user to slowly lose their sense of taste, eventually making it so they couldn’t taste anything at all.

Moreover, the Magician guaranteed this stuff would have no effect on the labor force. He also claimed that without the limitations of appetite, people would draw closer to what cultists call a Saint, becoming more perfect and divine.

At the same time, the Magician also hinted that there was an antidote. As long as it was consumed with a certain herb, one’s sense of taste would return with no side effects.

Finally, with the Magician’s prompting, the mayor understood what kind of reaction he would get from the higher-ups if he presented this to them, and what benefits he himself would reap.

And then, the scene the clown feared most unfolded.

The mayor agreed!

In the mayor’s view, this substance could effectively solve the problem of citizens secretly eating delicacies, and the gangs would gradually decline without their smuggling channels.

Afterward, the reduction in gang activity would lower security costs. Meanwhile, the Clown Gang had offered to help solve the public order problems, making the world a better place.

And so, the mayor, who should have been the protector of the people, actually agreed to poison their food. Witnessing such an absurd situation unfold before his very eyes made the clown feel that reality was far more terrifying than his own imagination.

The government-issued food wasn’t part of any dungeon quest requirements, so what the Magician was doing had nothing to do with the quest. He was just trying to screw over the other players and thought it was fun.

’That lunatic!’

Basking in the clown’s stare—the kind one gives a lunatic—the Magician smiled and said, "Now, do you understand what a madman is like?"

"I’ve truly never met anyone crazier than you," the clown said with a sigh. "Is that poison really harmless? Does such a perfect poison actually exist?"

The Magician gave a mysterious smile. "Of course. After all, I brought a gold-tier item from the Madhouse with me."

As a large organization, the Madhouse had quite a few Legendary Level items, each one a strategic weapon capable of changing how the game was played.

Based on the information the Magician had revealed, the clown quickly racked his brain and ultimately identified the item the Magician had brought with him.

[Nameless Mini Factory].

This item could be used once per dungeon, after which it required a ten-day cooldown (real-world time) before it could be used again.

Its effect was to consume a certain amount of Abyss Coins to create a desired item and its corresponding recipe.

The maximum number of Abyss Coins that could be consumed was 100,000. The more Abyss Coins spent, the better the effect—it was something only a whale could afford to play with.

But the most crucial part was its recipe function.

Every item it created came with a recipe. As long as you had the recipe, you could produce the item in a continuous supply.

Oftentimes, the ingredients listed in the recipe were completely different from the finished product, making one wonder how these things were even made. But somehow, it just worked.

Ever since acquiring the [Nameless Mini Factory], the Madhouse had been constantly using this item. They currently had thirteen recipes, and today would mark the fourteenth.

Knowing what item he was carrying, the clown had a completely new understanding of the Magician’s status within the Madhouse.

’This guy... he must be one of the thirteen attending physicians in the Madhouse.’

Thanks to his heavy makeup, the clown’s expression was hidden, and the Magician didn’t notice anything unusual about him.

He continued smugly, "That thing can help me create whatever I want. It can make people lose their sense of taste and smell, make them more numb and dull, and also make them more obedient to my commands. And what surprised me is that the recipe for it is very simple. I’ve already had my people start working on it."

The clown looked at the Magician in terror and shook his head again. "Lunatic."

The Magician, who only cared about having fun and not about winning or losing, had just begun his move when the Foreigners and the Gentlemen’s Association received some feedback.

The Clown Gang requested a truce, stating that they had been in the wrong before and would cede the market, allowing the other two gangs to operate.

Although they didn’t know what the Clown Gang was plotting, since they were willing to back down, the other two gangs immediately pressed their advantage, preparing to make a huge profit.

A gang’s only purpose is to make money, nothing else.

But soon, just after expanding their production scale, they discovered that their goods weren’t selling.

People who had bought their goods before said the stuff had no taste and something felt off, so they demanded refunds.

The next day, the situation grew even worse. People who had bought the Black Mashed Potatoes said it was exactly the same as the government rations and wasn’t worth the price at all.

Moreover, according to the food smugglers, those people seemed to have become somewhat dazed. They slurred their words and had to pause after every few sentences.

After finding one of these individuals, Duan Fei used his [Medical Skill] to examine them. Then, he said in confusion, "Strange. The notification indicates food poisoning. Did we poison our mashed potatoes?"

"Why the hell would I poison the food?!" Johnson shouted, bewildered.

"Then where could this poison have come from? Young man, what did you eat?"

The resident being questioned seemed drunk; he had trouble just standing still.

He swayed on the spot for a long while before finally saying, haltingly, "Mashed potatoes... and the government-rationed food."

"Could it be that there’s a problem with the government-rationed food?" Duan Fei asked doubtfully, then let out a startled laugh. "No way, the government here wouldn’t... wait, actually, it’s very possible!"

The North American Republic was clearly based on Yingjiang, and recalling the things Yingjiang had done, Duan Fei felt it was highly probable.

After all, that was a country that would inject its own soldiers with poison, spread germs in its own cities, and deal with chemical spills by simply setting them on fire.

So, although the conclusion seemed incredible, Duan Fei felt it wasn’t entirely impossible.

Getting his hands on some of the government-issued food, Duan Fei discovered that it looked just like cat food.

It was a mixture of various proteins and plant fibers, with a brown appearance that looked completely unappetizing. Its texture was said to be dry as well.

And the best way to understand this stuff was to take a bite.

So, Duan Fei decisively used a Character Card to summon Hancock, then shoved a mouthful of it at him.