This Necromancer Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 98

"Why does this Ah Bing keep getting worse day by day?!"

Seeing the latest notification, Matthew couldn't help but mutter to himself, "What's the use of hoarding gold coins, you greedy skeleton!"

Back at the inn, he told Lysanna that he and Roland were going to their room to rest. Roland understood and left with a knowing look.

At this point, Matthew couldn't be bothered to explain anything to him anymore. He quietly waited in their guest room for Ah Bing to return.

Ten more minutes passed, and Ah Bing's figure suddenly appeared before Matthew.

This was the effect of the "Shadow Slingshot." It granted Ah Bing the ability to freely move between the material and shadow realms. One moment he was wandering downstairs, the next he arrived by his master Matthew's side.

"Kaching, kaching!"

Ah Bing began shaking the gold coins hidden inside his cloak. He shook them for a while, and then, with an obedient appearance, took a step back, standing guard dutifully as if he were protecting his master.

Matthew sneered, "Is this all you've got?"

There were over 40 gold coins on the table, which was already a considerable amount. Most of them were likely proceeds seized from various thugs earlier in the day.

Ah Bing hesitated for a moment, pretending not to understand Matthew's words. He slightly shifted his hips.

However, after just two shifts, Matthew sharply reprimanded him, "You've disappointed me!"

Ah Bing stood there blankly. He stared into Matthew's eyes, and the soul fire inside his skull flickered restlessly.

Then, at a certain moment, he took another step forward, and his withered wrist continued to shake on the table.

Clatter, clatter!

After a pleasant ringing sound, Matthew noticed that the number of gold coins on the table had doubled to over 80.

"It seems that profiting from ill-gotten gains is quite lucrative. I borrowed 120 from Roland today, and now, I've already made a big chunk of it back!" Matthew muttered to himself.

Matthew collected himself and continued to scrutinize Ah Bing with an assessing gaze. To Matthew, collecting a few more gold coins was a small matter, but Ah Bing's mind was that of a seven-year-old, and this was a crucial moment for his education.

As a master, Matthew had to teach him the principle of not doing evil for petty gain.

"Is this all you have?" Matthew coldly questioned again.

Ah Bing remained dumbfounded for several seconds. The contract with the undead side transmitted a faint sense of grievance.

After a while, Ah Bing took another step forward and shook his wrist. This time, fewer gold coins emerged, but there were still a dozen or so.

Matthew was secretly surprised and decided to play along, repeating his line, "Is this all you have?"

Ah Bing remained completely bewildered.

This time, he experienced a lapse in functioning that lasted for over thirty seconds. Then, he took another step forward.

Just when Matthew thought Ah Bing was going to continue to surrender the hidden gold coins, Ah Bing suddenly extended his other hand and broke off his right palm with a sharp, snapping sound!

Snap!

With a blank expression, he presented his perfectly smooth severed palm to Matthew.

At first, Matthew was taken aback, but he soon felt a surge of guilt. However, just as he was reevaluating his actions, he noticed a glint of gold flashing within Ah Bing's cloak!

"This guy is willing to give up his hand rather than reveal those few coins he's hiding, isn't he?" Matthew couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.

"Never mind, I won't hold it against you this time, but let it be a lesson for you," Matthew said, skillfully reattaching Ah Bing's palm.

Then, with a serious tone, he reprimanded:

"If you really like these gold coins so much, I can make a deal with you. In the future, you can have 10% of the gold coins on the enemies you defeat as your spoils."

"But other than that, you can't take a single coin more, understood?"

Ah Bing listened to Matthew's reprimand, looking somewhat dazed.

Matthew thought he might not understand, so he repeated it several times.

A few minutes later, Ah Bing suddenly knelt down excitedly, performing a respectful gesture that Matthew couldn't quite comprehend.

The soul fire in his skull blazed intensely, as if a dormant volcano had suddenly become active!

...

"Hint: Due to your reasonable profit-sharing promise, Ah Bing is incredibly grateful to you, and his loyalty to you has increased to 120!"

"Since Ah Bing's loyalty to you exceeds 120, he shares his ability 'Short Weapon Mastery' with you!"

"Short Weapon Mastery (Weakening/Enhancement): You excel in the use of short weapons; when using short weapons, your attack speed, attack power, and critical hit rate are all increased by 15%."

"Enhancement: For you, the definition of short weapons is broader (any weapon with a size not exceeding 30 cm is considered a short weapon)."

Ah Bing's keyword changed:

"Intermittent Gold-Picking (Gray) → Sustained Loyalty (Blue)"

"Sustained Loyalty (Blue): Under the condition that his own needs are met, he will no longer hoard any spoils and will, to the best of his ability, collect all the spoils for you!"

...

"Once a contract with an undead reaches a loyalty level of over 120, does that mean we can consistently gain shared abilities?" Matthew noticed the change in the text description.

Loyalty was, in fact, a mysterious metric. Low-level undead had no loyalty attribute; even though they possessed a limited consciousness and intelligence, they were completely devoted to their summoners.

High-level undead had no concept of loyalty.

For example, Peggy—let alone loyalty, Matthew couldn't even see her six major attributes, and her abilities were discovered through their daily interactions.

If Peggy was keeping some hidden abilities from Matthew, he probably wouldn't figure it out in his lifetime.

Only undead creatures with a certain degree of intelligence, a bit of humanity, but not reaching Peggy's level, possessed the special metric called "loyalty."

Among Matthew's subordinates, only Bobo, Ah Bing, and Afei had loyalty metrics.

If he wanted to consistently share undead abilities, he needed to start with these three.

After pondering for a while, Matthew refocused his attention on the present.

"Short Weapon Mastery" could actually be useful for a mage.

In addition to a hand crossbow, each mage would typically carry a small dagger for self-defense. At higher levels, it could be a magical dagger. Often, that dagger was a mage's last line of defense.

If one could make good use of a dagger, it might work miracles.

But what intrigued Matthew most was Ah Bing's transformation!

Originally, Matthew was frustrated that Ah Bing had acquired a gray keyword, but miraculously, through his guidance and teachings, Ah Bing had managed to convert a negative keyword into a positive one.

Did this mean that other keywords might have the potential for transformation or enhancement?

As Matthew looked at the kneeling Ah Bing, he fell into deep contemplation.

...

Night fell, and Matthew and Roland walked together on the streets of Waterside City.

After dark, the city, which usually seemed lifeless, suddenly came to life.

There was a noticeable increase in the number of people on the streets.

Roland explained, "Do you find it strange? In Waterside City, there are more people out at night than during the day. This is because the residents here have a superstition; they believe that the probability of falling ill at night is much lower than during the day. So, for many things that can be done at night, they choose not to go out during the day."

"In Waterside City, the best-selling items, besides holy water, are lanterns and candles."

Matthew found it intriguing. "So, many people believe in this groundless superstition?"

Roland shook his head. "It's not entirely baseless. I've asked many people who have lived in Waterside City for a long time. According to their observations, going out at night is almost always safe, whereas during the day, it's a different story. This may not be superstition but an observed pattern."

Matthew nodded in earnest.

As they approached the theater's entrance, he suddenly asked, "Have you noticed that we haven't encountered those coughing folks who enjoy parades on our way here?"

Roland nodded, saying, "You're right. Perhaps it's the reason why people don't go out at night; those who are already sick and still want to roam around probably don't venture out at night."

Matthew speculated thoughtfully, "Or maybe it's not that they don't want to go out at night, but the Plague King doesn't want to pay them for spreading the disease at night!"

Roland burst into laughter, saying, "That's a reasonable guess! Maybe the Plague King is the clown in the theater we're about to visit. He's too busy working at night, so he doesn't have time to hire people to spread the disease!"

A man impatiently swung a woman's arm away.

The woman, appearing no older than twenty, had a slight bulge in her belly. Her appearance was sweet, but her hair and clothes were somewhat disheveled.

She grabbed the man's forearm, pleading, "I love you, Bran. I really do. I can't be without you, and I'm carrying your child. I'm not asking you to do anything for us, but could you visit me occasionally? We haven't seen each other for over three months. You always claim to be busy. I can understand that, but why do you always manage to make time when we're together?"

"Bran, please, don't be so heartless. Please don't abandon me."

The man impatiently replied, "Seeing you shortly before the performance starts isn't enough to prove how much I care about you? Renee, my career doesn't allow me to be burdened by family. I've told you many times, and I thought you could understand that. I always believed you were a sensible girl, and that's why I chose you when I broke up with Cassidy. Don't disappoint me, all right?"

The woman looked lost. "But I'm pregnant. My parents found out and kicked me out. I've run out of money, and I have nowhere to go. I'm afraid to go back home because my dad wants me to get rid of the baby."

The man patted her cheek and coldly said, "Your dad is right. Aborting the child is the best for everyone. As for the money, don't count on me. My pockets are emptier than yours. If they weren't, I wouldn't be hustling to perform on stage. Look, I may look glamorous on stage, but it's just hard-earned money."

"In any case, Renee, go home or abort the child yourself. That's the only way we can continue our relationship. I'm busy right now, so leave. Leave before I'm completely disappointed in you."

With that, he turned toward Matthew and Roland and scolded, "Get lost! You annoying flies! Don't hang around the theater's back door, or I'll call the guards!"

Though his words were harsh, he quickly retreated and slammed the back door shut.

Only the helpless woman remained, leaning against the door and silently shedding tears.

"Madam, do you need our help?" Roland approached her gallantly.

To their surprise, the woman shot him a hostile glare. "Mind your own business! If you dare to spread mine and Bran's affair, you'll regret it!"

With that, she wiped her tears and left with a fiery determination.

Matthew watched the scene with amusement; this was the first time he saw Roland being put in his place by a woman.

"Is the man who was just here tonight's main actor, Brendan White?" he asked as he walked over.

Roland maintained his nonchalant expression. "Yes, that rascal is the one. It seems like he's not a stranger to getting girls pregnant."

Matthew gave him an inquisitive look. "So, this is the effect of 'Windcatcher'? Did you sense this melodramatic scene about to unfold just now?"

Roland waved it off. "No need for 'Windcatcher.' That skill is for capturing major events. For small-scale local gossip like this, I have a special ability called 'Backstreet News.'"

"When I approach an area where similar events might happen, I can smell the scent of gossip."

Matthew felt that something was amiss. "Are you sure you're a bona fide bard?"

Roland winked. "Everyone has their secrets, Matthew. If you can be called a necromancer, why can't I be a bard?"

"Let's go; it's almost time to enter." The two left the alley and returned to the main road. It didn't take long for them to reach the theater's front entrance.

The square was filled with various carriages, and elegantly dressed men and women were disembarking.

Servants handed over purchased tickets, and after a quick inspection, theater staff led them inside.

There were indeed many people coming to see the play, and although they were all from well-to-do backgrounds, a queue formed briefly at the entrance.

Some of the nobles couldn't help but complain.

At that moment, a middle-aged woman in a black long dress stepped out and shouted at the distracted staff, "Stop staring! Barry passed out because he worked tirelessly for three days. It's due to exhaustion, nothing else. Continue serving the guests properly!"

"Lawrence! Where's Lawrence? Send him to replace Barry, and make sure he's careful. If he messes up, I'll have the captain of the troupe fire him later!"

The middle-aged woman had a harsh appearance. When the staff at the door saw her, they lowered their heads as if they'd encountered a formidable enemy, only daring to work diligently at their assigned tasks.

After a while, a young man with a perpetual smile emerged from the theater.

His appearance was somewhat comical.

The middle-aged woman sternly warned, "Today's work must be flawless. The people you're attending to are all influential. You know what will happen if there's an error!"

"Yes, Madam Jessup!"

The young man seemed eager to seize the opportunity and repeatedly nodded and bowed in compliance under the scrutinizing gaze of the middle-aged woman.

Much to everyone's surprise, he performed exceedingly well, even outshining the professional ticket inspectors. Every aspect of the ticket inspection seemed as if he had practiced it countless times, with impeccable handling.

Even when facing unforeseen minor incidents, he responded gracefully.

Quickly, the congestion at the theater's entrance was relieved.

The middle-aged woman still stared at Lawrence's back with a malicious glare.

He, on the other hand, acted as if he couldn't see her, quietly going about his work.

When it was Matthew and his party's turn, Lysanna handed over the tickets.

The attendant displayed a very typical and radiant smile, revealing a set of pearly whites and healthy gum lines.

"Hello, your tickets are in order. You can choose to go to the balcony on the second floor or sit in the front row on the ground floor for a close-up view of our performance," Lawrence said with a smile.

Lysanna replied with an equally radiant smile, "We won't go to the balcony; we'll take the front row."

"Of course, sir, I'll arrange it for you right away," Lawrence replied.

He called over a robust female worker.

Lawrence returned the tickets to Lysanna, saying, "Thank you for your support of the Southern Theater. I hope you have a wonderful evening."

He delivered the same farewell to Matthew, who politely nodded in response.

As they passed each other, Matthew suddenly noticed something unusual about Lawrence's nose tip, which had an unnatural shade of deep red.

"Actually, Zeshui City has many strange beliefs. Besides the idea that it's safer to go out after dark, there's also the belief that 'employees of the Southern Theater don't get sick.'"

In the front row seats, Lysanna stretched lazily, chatting with Matthew, "But that boy clearly had a fever earlier, so that notion falls apart."

Matthew responded, "When I came down earlier, I overheard many people discussing it. Several individuals were swearing that the theater staff had never fallen ill before. If their claim is true, then the young attendant who just collapsed must be the theater's first sick employee."

"Is that so?"

Lysanna perked up as if she'd uncovered a hidden facet, "Does that mean something special will happen tonight?"

Matthew looked at him with a sly grin, "Shouldn't this be your domain, Roland? Street Talk or Windcatcher?"

Roland shrugged, "Frequently using abilities drains the joy out of life. Tonight, I just want to be an ordinary audience member."

Matthew chuckled and didn't press the issue further.

One by one, the theater's staff gathered, and the stage already hosted a warm-up performance.

A splendid play was about to begin.

Table of content

• You can access publicly available chapters of "This Necromancer Just Wants to Plant Trees" right HERE.
• Your invaluable feedback and ratings mean the world to me. Please take a moment to rate this novel at Novelupdate.
• You can also check out the other Novels I'm currently translating by clicking HERE.
• If you come across any mistakes within this chapter, kindly notify me in the comments below, so that I can make the necessary corrections.