Bei Luo, being stared at by his friends, clapped his small hands and put on a "this is obvious" expression: "Alien life, our intelligence network is still too weak. Malin’s father must be a visitor from another world. Only this can explain why we can’t confirm Malin’s genetic sequence."
Bixiu also nodded: "Yes, only this way can we have a sufficiently certain answer to things we couldn’t understand before, even if the answer sounds very strange. But as the saying goes, only novels need to be reasonable, reality doesn’t..." Saying this, he fell into thought again: "But this raises a small question—if Malin’s father is a powerful alien visitor, and he was born with talent, then why... why does his soul co from another era?"
"Yes, why did this child die, and why was his soul replaced after death? Look at his pursuit of art, it resembles our northern neighbor who died early." Upon saying this, Bei Luo sighed: "We better go see our Mr. Malin soon. I want to ask what’s the foolishness Sostak No. 3 and Jason are up to, Bixiu, do you have any thoughts?"
"What thoughts can I have? I don’t understand anything; I just feel like those two guys are lost." Bixiu shook his head after speaking: "How could I have such a silly thought? But it really feels like they’re lost because... you see, they’re asking for directions."
"Isn’t this too embarrassing for AI? Don’t they have a satellite?" Bei Luo asked in confusion.
Then the two little guys collectively slapped their foreheads.
Right, how did they forget? These two poor folks from Westland didn’t even have synchronous orbit satellites, nor could they afford fuel for orbit-change satellites.
......
When Malin finished transforming and returned to the main road, he found that the parade activities had not ended as he had said. Instead, everyone was in a frenzy of celebration—Malin listened to their discussions for a while and realized that it was due to his recent actions that he had been regarded by the city’s residents as a lawful neutral existence, leaning towards goodness.
Previously, citizens thought he might be worshiping a chaos rumor that had been proven false outright. Malin even found that his body seed more robust now... no wonder his power had surged before. It was precisely that period that started as Malin began to gather faith... so that’s what it was.
While marveling, Malin realized that his previous strength... wasn’t entirely his own.
This made Malin very uncomfortable. Why did I, an atheist, beco soone akin to a divine hero through this force-fed faith?
"Looks like no one took your words seriously, Malin," ng Quyi teased Malin with a laugh.
Malin could only smile wryly, but he didn’t take the girl’s teasing to heart—laughing was fine, at least ignorance is no guilt.
At least... Malin absolutely wouldn’t bla a young girl over sothing like this.
How old is she? Malin, an old guy nearing sixty over two lifetis combined, couldn’t possibly stoop to a young girl’s level. Doing so honestly was too shaful.
With this in mind, Malin was dragged by the girl into a large booth shrouded in curtains, only then realizing it was an outdoor tailoring shop.
"Ah, the War Witch Miss," said the person in charge, who was an elderly lady with hair as white as snow yet appearing very robust, being a dwarf after all.
"Yes, Lady of the Pin Pavilion, hello. I’d like to ask you to make a new War Witch robe for , and also for my friend here, you could tailor traditional Thanan clothing," said ng Quyi.
The old lady smiled and agreed, and several Panthenon feline girls ca over, taking ng Quyi into the fitting room.
The old lady looked at Malin, and several elves imdiately approached.
To be honest, Malin wanted to try on Thanan-style clothing as well, so he took off his short-sleeved shirt, revealing the eight-pack abs of a giant.
"The guest has a nice physique," the elves began asuring him.
Indeed, Malin chuckled, thinking that only in Thainan could such a scene occur. In Westland, no elf tailor would asure a giant, even if he was the illegitimate child of a King. Even a doctor from the Benevolent Church would sche against a giant cub while treating them. Malin thought about how he’d been at-starved for so long and shed tears (of course, when Malin thrashed that guy later, he was totally unrepentant, practically reckless).
With the asurents done, the elf tailors also brought out various styles of ready-to-wear clothes for Malin to choose from.
Malin chose a reportedly new sumr suit. Judging by its style, it was very similar to the sumr fashion of his era, such as an old-fashioned plaid cotton shirt, breathable cotton long pants, and leather shoes that suited his foot shape.
"We found these styles from the ruins of the Great Destruction Era. Many couldn’t be made due to material issues, but styles like these we can now produce," the elf tailor proudly ntioned while looking at Malin with the kind of stare one reserves for rustic Westlanders.
Indeed, the short-sleeved shirt Malin was wearing was sothing he had modified from his robe, and any master tailor who saw the stitching line would probably faint from a surge in blood pressure. Malin thought, If those elderly ladies saw this, they’d probably transform in fury and pain into an unknown terrifying creature.
Perhaps a needle-wielding, grotesquely distorted horror of an old lady?
Hmm, quite possible.
Having selected his clothing, Malin sat on a small chair, waiting for the elf tailors, who were reportedly making the garnts on-site.
anwhile, he also noticed new custors coming in.
The first was a gno who seed familiar with the old lady; they cheek-kissed and embraced, after which the old lady assigned him two gno tailors.
As the gno passed by Malin, he greeted him: "Young man, are you accompanying your girlfriend?"
"No," Malin chuckled dryly. ng Quyi would probably try to tear your little head from your body upon hearing that.
"Haha, the young guys entering the Pin Pavilion all say they’re not their female companion’s boyfriend. I understand—I said the sa thing back in the day. Young n don’t understand girls’ hearts." Saying this, the gno and his tailor roared with laughter as they entered the fitting room.
Malin looked at the elderly lady, full of flesh, who smiled benevolently and said softly: "Don’t listen to Old Li’s nonsense. Back then, he was quite flustered when three girls brought him here."
Apparently... wait, isn’t he the ultimate winner in life?!
Malin’s face turned stony upon seeing a young elf lad being dragged in by four elf girls, his face gleaming with bashfulness as his peers pulled him into the fitting room.
His female companions, chatting rrily, entered the ladies’ dressing room as a tight-knit group of friends.
Darn it, why do I have to sit on this small chair witnessing life’s joys and sorrows? Do you guys understand how precious the ti of True Lord Malin is?
Do you guys realize you’re playing with fire?
Do you know my wrath can consu everything?
"Young sir, would you like so ice cream? Our little shop prepared it specially for our patrons." The old lady interrupted Malin’s tirade, and an elf girl beside him offered him a big bowl of sothing that looked fantastically delicious on a wooden tray.
"Thank you," Malin graciously accepted the bowl, turned Mana into a big spoon, and took a bite.
Ah, wonderful, even better than the ice cream Malin made himself back in Westland.
Simultaneously, he offered a small piece of fruit as a token gift to the elf girl.
Dear lady and you darlings, I misjudged your kindness and cuteness.
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