The man in the lead was burly and had only one arm.
His chanical arm, glinting coldly in the sunset, was particularly striking.
Lei Zhen, the director of Golden Ears Farm.
Beside him was a chubby, middle-aged man wearing gold-rimd glasses.
He held an electronic data slate, his face plastered with the shrewd smile of a businessman.
The vice-director, Zhou Ping.
"Ah, our heroes! You’ve all worked so hard, so hard!"
Zhou Ping’s voice arrived before he did.
He trotted over, enthusiastically directing the ground crew to hand out towels and chilled Spirit Plant drinks.
Lei Zhen, however, wasn’t one for pleasantries.
His eyes swept quickly over the group, finally landing on Han Feng.
He completely ignored Gu Yun, who was still striking a pose nearby.
Gu Yun had been hoping to show off his aircraft’s paint job.
With heavy strides, Lei Zhen walked straight up to Han Feng.
"That Burrowing Rock Lizard, you’re the one who took it down?"
Lei Zhen’s voice was hoarse and grating.
Han Feng nodded.
"Got lucky. It just happened to look up."
"Bullshit luck."
The corner of Lei Zhen’s mouth twisted into an ugly grin.
He raised his good left hand and clapped it heavily on Han Feng’s shoulder.
THUD!
With a dull thwack, Han Feng felt half his body go numb.
"An oral detonation, with a precise penetration through the abdon."
A stream of data flickered across Lei Zhen’s chanical eye. He had clearly reviewed the combat footage.
"That Tier One Late Stage Rock Lizard hide doesn’t have a single extra bullet hole in it."
"Impressive marksmanship!"
Zhou Ping scurried over as well, adjusting his glasses and smiling so broadly his eyes disappeared.
He pointed at the Rock Lizard carcass that had just been unloaded from a transport vehicle, his eyes filled with the gleam of Contribution Points.
"Director Lei is absolutely right!"
"Technician Han, your piloting skills and Machine Cannon accuracy are truly impeccable!"
"Concise, precise, efficient!"
"More accurate than our farm’s own ground-based firepower!"
Standing a short distance away, Gu Yun’s expression darkened when he heard this.
He had certainly had a blast fighting today, firing his Machine Cannon as if the ammo were free.
But that also ant the Demon Beast Materials he had collected were mostly damaged goods.
"Hmph, I killed plenty, too," Gu Yun muttered, trying to save face.
"Yes, yes, of course! Pilot Gu was also unparalleled in bravery, with glorious achievents!"
Zhou Ping, a smooth operator who knew how to please everyone, quickly turned to praise him.
"Especially that swarm of Iron-toothed Rats you eliminated. You fought with such imposing montum, it greatly intimidated the enemy!"
The words sounded like a complint, but to Gu Yun, sothing felt off.
’Imposing montum for fighting Iron-toothed Rats?’
’A whole swarm of those things isn’t even worth as much as that one Rock Lizard.’
He snorted, tossed his helt to a ground crew mber, and turned to walk toward his "Alice."
He muttered under his breath.
"A bunch of country bumpkins who don’t understand the aesthetics of combat. The mont of destruction is an art form in itself..."
...
Dinner was held in the farm’s large cafeteria, and it was an absurdly lavish spread.
A massive iron pot, a ter in diater, was filled to the brim with stewed Demon Beast Flesh.
There was Mad Rabbit stew with potatoes, braised Iron-toothed Rat, and a huge basin of stir-fried Cyan-Scaled Eagle giblets.
The combined aroma of chili peppers and Spirit Plant Spices was enough to go straight to your head.
"Co on, co on, don’t be shy! Make yourselves at ho!"
"There’s plenty of at for everyone tonight!"
Zhou Ping called out, his face flushed with excitent.
Lei Zhen, anwhile, sat alone at the head of the table. A bottle of high-proof spirits was set before him, and he poured himself a large bowl.
Han Feng paid them no mind.
He grabbed a stainless steel basin larger than his face, piled it high with rice, and ladled two large spoonfuls of thick, aty broth over it.
His chopsticks moved like a whirlwind, and he devoured his food.
His body was a bottomless pit right now.
Cultivation consud a trendous amount of Qi Blood and Energy. Potions alone could never satisfy the hunger that seed to emanate from his very soul.
"Ding."
The personal terminal on his wrist vibrated gently.
Han Feng swiped the screen open, and a transfer notification popped up.
[Account Credited: 23,800 Contribution Points. mo: Golden Ears Farm Day 1 Mission Settlent (includes material premium share).]
Staring at the long string of numbers, the at in Han Feng’s mouth suddenly tasted even better.
"Not bad, Han Feng! You’ve struck it rich!"
Wang ng sidled up with his own food basin, nudging him with a mischievous grin.
"Today’s haul is worth three months of my work, isn’t it?"
Han Feng swallowed the food in his mouth and, without batting an eye, pulled a crumpled little notebook and a pen from his pocket.
In front of everyone, he began to ticulously calculate.
"Total inco: twenty-three thousand, eight hundred points."
"Deducting eight hours of fuel for the ’Gray Donkey,’ fuselage depreciation, and lubricant consumption—that’s about three thousand points."
"Ammunition consumption: thirty-seven rounds, for a total of one thousand, eight hundred and fifty points."
He paused, glanced at the recycling bag under the table containing nine empty test tubes, and jotted down with a pained expression:
"Cost of Recovery Potions: two thousand, seven hundred points."
"The Society takes a thirty percent cut, which is seven thousand, one hundred and forty points..."
"So..."
Han Feng’s pen stopped. He looked up, his calm gaze sweeping over the others.
"Today’s net profit is twelve thousand, seven hundred and sixty points."
The few new mbers who had passed the assessnt with them gasped.
One day!
A net profit of over ten thousand points!
This wasn’t just a huge profit; this was daylight robbery!
You have to understand, most B Level Students worked their asses off for a whole month at the academy and their combined allowance and mission rewards might not even reach that amount.
After hearing the breakdown, Wang ng deliberately started shouting.
"Old Gu, you hear that?"
"Han Feng here netted twelve thousand!"
"What about you?"
"You put on such a big show today. How much did that stage performance for Alice cost you?"
Gu Yun, who had been elegantly cutting a piece of rabbit at with a knife and fork, froze.
He didn’t need to do the math to know he had definitely lost money today.
He had killed three tis as many Demon Beasts as Han Feng, but their total value was likely less than half of Han Feng’s.
And his ammunition and fuel consumption was at least five tis Han Feng’s.
With that inco versus those expenses...
Gu Yun’s face turned green.
"How can you even compare them!"
he retorted stubbornly.
"That was strategic suppression!"
"It was covering fire!"
"It was to create a safe offensive environnt for my teammates!"
"It was art!"
"My combat style... every bullet is a note in a magnificent symphony!"
Without looking up, Han Feng added another line in his notebook.
"Based on an estimate from your firing frequency and the mission recording,"
"you fired at least eight hundred rounds today."
"Cost: forty thousand points."
"The total value of the Demon Beast Materials you hunted, at a generous estimate, is only fifteen thousand points."
"And that doesn’t even count fuel consumption."
"You have a net loss of twenty-five thousand."
"PFFT—"
Wang ng sprayed out the mouthful of soup he had just taken.
He roared with laughter, slapping his thigh.
"HAHAHA!"
"A loss of twenty-five thousand!"
"Old Gu, you weren’t fighting, you were putting on a fireworks show!"
"Your wife really knows how to burn through cash!"
The Sharp Sword Society’s table was the loudest in the entire cafeteria.
Gu Yun’s face turned a furious, deep red, and the knife and fork in his hands nearly scraped through his plate.
He shot Han Feng a resentful glare and cursed under his breath.
"You... you calculating, vulgar mortal!"
"You could never understand the greatness of Alice!"
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