<h4>Chapter 1910: Chapter 1910: Striking It Rich</h4>


    Brenner Ridge incredulously touched his forehead.


    The Undead Tribe has no blood; on the day they became members of the Undead Tribe, their blood turned white andpletely integrated into various body tissues.


    The dart pierced through his head, leaving a pitch-ck hole in his forehead.


    The songstresses were stunned.


    It was their first time seeing someone get hit in the head by a concealed weapon box and still not die.


    "Haha! I thought you had some ability! Our Master Ridge has long achieved immortality. Neither weapons nor poison can harm him!"


    "That’s right, surrender now! You truly disappoint us! Dying at the hands of our Dragon Elephant Mountain’s Master Ridge is an honor for you..."


    Whoosh!


    The concealed weapon box sounded once more.


    A dart pierced through the forehead of the man speaking.


    Cutting him off mid-sentence.


    Thud!


    The man fell straight to the ground.


    His body quickly withered.


    And Brenner Ridge turned into a mummified corpse.


    "What’s going on! Master Ridge has already be part of the Undead Tribe, how could he..."


    Whoosh!


    A concealed weapon box sounded again.


    The expression of shock on the man’s face hadn’t even dissipated before he withered into a dark brown mummified corpse, falling lightly to the ground.


    "Run!"


    Someone shouted suddenly.


    The remaining people turned and fled!


    But when they turned around, what they saw wasn’t stairs!


    It was a flying sword!


    Holding the Break Sky Knife within the Breaking Heaven Sword!


    Swish!


    The longsword cut through the air.


    Heads rolled.


    The headless bodies crumbled into ashes.


    With a gust of wind, they scattered away.


    Whitaker Dog pulled a few golden teeth from the mouths of the dead and tossed them to the hotel owner: "For the meal!"


    <fn4f7f> The source of th?s content is find(?)ovel</fn4f7f>


    "Oh my God!"


    The owner shuddered in fright; who would dare spend this money?


    How unlucky!


    Spit!


    He spat on the ground.


    Whitaker Dog didn’t care, still pondering why this taste was so familiar?


    Thud! Thud! Thud!


    Whitaker Dog climbed to the top floor in one breath, where Julius Reed cast a nce his way. "Do you know how much business your Funeral Alliance will have after today?"


    "How much?"


    Whitaker Dog spat on the ground, his eyes full of expectation.


    "Tens of thousands, all from Demarco Mount and Boulevard. Think about it, with corpses everywhere here, the Funeral Alliance is going to make a fortune!"


    Julius Reed pointed to Moon Vi: "The city full of bodies, all walking gold!"


    "But... what if these two don’t want to pay?" Whitaker Dog was excited but also voiced his concern.


    Normally, after a great battle, someone has to collect the bodies.


    Hiring the Funeral Alliance is expensive, and often each faction would take their bodies back themselves.


    This concerns morale, concerns public sentiment.


    If the brave soldiers who fought were left in foreignnds, the living would inevitably feel disheartened.


    They’re not ordinary people; they are skilled martial artists, and their demands naturally differ from ordinary folks.


    "Don’t worry, after this battle, they’ll all be crippled. There won’t be many who survive. To take all the bodies back is impossible." Julius Reed sat back on his chair, immediately being served by knowledgeable girls massaging his shoulders and back.


    "At worst, Moon Vi will pay you to handle it. But don’t forget, this is their city, unless Moon Vi is willing to abandon here, turning it into a ghost town."


    Hearing this.


    Whitaker Dog’s eyes shifted.


    Brilliant!


    A bloody fortune!


    With this, his status in the Funeral Alliance will rise once more!


    "But the condition is, I need your Funeral Alliance’s Pope to do me a favor." Julius Reed nced out the window. "I can stop this war."


    "Say it!"


    Whitaker Dog was a little flustered.


    This battle was all about the silver coins!


    Currently, the Pope has gone mad, iming himself to be Hades, recruiting soldiers everywhere.


    If he could deliver this money, he would definitely be rewarded.


    He could even be someone on par with Logan Channing.


    This was indeed very tempting for Whitaker Dog, who had been hustling for years!


    He couldn’t miss this!


    "I have a friend trapped in the mountains of the town. Only your Pope can save him. But remember, there are ambushes and guards; you must go quietly. As long as you agree, I guarantee you won’t lose a penny!"


    Julius Reed pointed at Whitaker Dog: "You know I never joke. I think the Pope has that much credibility, right?"


    Whitaker Dog was ecstatic!


    This West Tower was simply his benefactor.


    Ever since he met the West Tower, his life has been like a cheat code, constantly achieving merits, how wonderful!


    He thought it was something major, but it was just rescuing someone, wasn’t it?


    Considering the money, the Pope will definitely agree.


    It’s not that difficult.


    A round trip, just a day’s work.


    The bodies in the city, how much money must that be?


    In this case, it’s all about volume.


    No need for any coffins or memorial tablets, just a straw mat will do.


    The expense lies in the Funeral Alliance’s self-managed heavenly delivery.


    To ship these bodies back to Boulevard and Demarco Mount requires a very long distance; the delivery fee is quite steep.


    And it will be a rough transport.


    "Deal?"


    Julius Reed raised his ss, looking at Whitaker Dog. "Then let me toast to your coffin prosperity."


    "Thank you, boss!"


    Whitaker Dog grinned from ear to ear.