Chapter 596: Chapter 594 Bee
In mythology, Charon is described as a filthy and ugly old man, wielding a long pole, his eyes breathing fire, piloting a small wooden boat, responsible for ferrying the souls on the River Styx.
However, evidently, in this highly modified drama mission, Charon had beco...
A cargo ship.
A cargo ship painted black and red, equipped with large-caliber battleship cannons for the high seas.
"HOOOONK—!"
The resounding steam whistle echoed across the sea. Looking far into the distance, one could vaguely see a figure standing on the ship’s deck, waving.
Ferry turned to explain with a smile, "Charon isn’t the na of a specific person, but a codena for the ship. Besides humans, so large animals also depend on the ferry for transport, with different ferries transporting different kinds of souls. Of course, to welco you, Counselor, the council specially adjusted the cargo ship schedule, clearing a ship just for you."
As he spoke, Ferry paused, his expression becoming more serious. "...Mr. Kevin, accompanying the cargo ship is also a mber of the council. He himself is quite knowledgeable about the law and might conduct an assessnt and pass judgnt on you. I personally suggest you choose your words carefully later on..."
Kevin was startled by this and wanted to ask more, but Ferry turned his head away, unwilling to elaborate.
anwhile, the black and red cargo ship in the distance approached at an exaggerated speed completely incongruous with its size, cutting through the waves. In the blink of an eye, it reached the shore. Just as it was about to run aground, it ca to a sudden halt, rotating ninety degrees. Violently shaking, it docked by the coast.
BANG—!
The deck on the side of the cargo ship facing the coast suddenly extended, slanting downwards to where Kevin and Ferry stood, forming a staircase leading to the deck. This staircase was even laid with a brightly colored red carpet.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The battleship cannons on the other side of the cargo ship fired over ten rounds in succession as a salute to the honored guests.
Amid the deafening cannonade, the figure who had been standing at the bow stepped onto the deck and slowly descended the stairs.
So powerful... The Black Trojan felt a tingling sensation all over his skin as if electrocuted, goosebumps rising. Having learned from previous experiences, he didn’t dare to activate the detection function in this drama mission with an extrely high Mysterious Degree, relying only on his unaided eyes for observation.
The figure descending from the cargo ship was a male with the head of a bee. dium in stature, he wore a striped suit, his hands clasped behind his back, his deanor composed and nonchalant.
"You must be Counselor Kevin, right?" The bee-headed man proactively extended his hand and shook Kevin’s. "It’s an honor to et you."
Kevin asked uncertainly, "You are..."
"My surna in life was Bonaparte, founder of the French First Empire, French First Consul, Emperor of the French First Empire." The bee-headed man’s mandibles moved constantly as he spoke in well-articulated English. "But that was all hundreds of years ago. Perhaps for other deceased, their lives are forever fixed on the day of their death. All the ti after death is just reminiscing about fragnts of past mories. But I do not wish to remain tied to the past."
"I see..." Kevin nodded, looking at the Ghost of the forr French Emperor nad Bonaparte, hesitating. "So, what should I call you?"
"Just call
Bee."
The Bee waved his hand and greeted Ferry, who bowed deeply, a mixture of fear and respect in his deanor.
The Forest Cat, floating in mid-air and holding a cara, looked at the Bee with a sowhat complicated emotion. "It’s actually Napoleon..."
"It’s Napoleon Bonaparte from the world of the script," the Witch corrected indifferently. "Anything is possible in the world of the script; even the forr French Emperor isn’t so surprising. Hmm... He issued the Napoleon Code during his lifeti. No wonder Ferry said he was interested in law."
Li Ang said calmly, "And his bee head should be because of his family crest, the golden bee. Of course, we can’t rule out the possibility that Mr. Bonaparte, due to his long life in hell, has beco a non-mainstream person who likes to dye his hair yellow."
The Black Trojan mused to himself, It’s not just yellow hair; his whole head has beco fluffy!
"It’s getting late; let’s set off." The Bee glanced at his watch and enthusiastically invited Kevin and Ferry to board the cargo ship.
With each step they took up the stairs, the section of stairs behind them automatically retracted, along with the red carpet.
After they boarded the deck, the ship, bereft of any visible sailors, automatically weighed anchor, sounded its horn, and turned towards the opposite shore of the Styx.
The Bee led the way, guiding the two passengers into the captain’s cabin and gesturing for them to sit on the soft sofas. He skillfully took out a bottle and glasses from a rack and poured a drink for both Kevin and Ferry.
The drink was a crystal-clear, colorless, lightweight liquid. It swayed slightly in the glass as the ship rocked gently. When it tilted to one side of the glass, it didn’t fall as regular liquids do but clung to the side with viscosity. Upon closer inspection, one could faintly see countless tiny arms stretching out from within the liquid, gripping the inside of the glass.
Ferry accepted the glass with both hands, full of trepidation. He swallowed hard, then carefully lifted the cup and downed it in one go, his eyes tightly shut. After savoring the taste for a mont, an expression of still wanting more appeared on his face. He smacked his lips, relishing it incessantly.
Kevin felt a chill run down his spine. He hesitated for a mont, then deliberately slowed his movents, picking up the glass and gently swirling it.
The Forest Cat, looking down from above, scrutinized the transparent liquid in the glass and then concluded, "This should be a drink brewed from pure Soul Energy, which is very beneficial for Spiritual Bodies, and can also be used as a material in advanced mystical Ritual Tracks."
"She’s right," the Witch agreed. "The Energy fluctuation level of the drink in the glass is roughly equivalent to the souls of a hundred people. Producing such a drink in the real world is extrely difficult. First, it requires the mass kidnapping and torture of victims, forcing them to endure inhuman pain before death, a process that risks easy exposure. Second, the souls of modern people are heavily polluted and of low purity, making production prone to errors. Considering Ferry’s expression, this drink must also be a rare and precious item in the Underworld."
Both the Forest Cat and the Witch were experts in mysticism, a fact Kevin, as their employer, was well aware of.
"You can try a couple of sips," Li Ang said indifferently. "One, it can test if you’re a Pure Spirit Body. Two, this drink might have so positive effects. Three, it might also be a test from this Bee."
After hearing the advice from the expert group, Kevin no longer hesitated. He picked up the glass, drank a little of the transparent liquid, and, imitating Ferry, smacked his lips.
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