Chapter 262: The Fickle Personality of 008

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Chapter 262: The Fickle Personality of 008

The scene fell silent for a moment, and a slight expression crossed Sharon's usually calm face.

She had only glanced at it out of curiosity, not expecting the pen to write such a sentence. Finally, her gaze turned towards Hastur. 

"You're becoming more and more unruly."

"Woo woo woo, please forgive me master for my impulsive words."

"Have you always been this cheeky? Or do you think this disguise will make me lower my guard against you?"

008 drew a small circle on the blank paper, then continued writing: "Trust is a very luxurious thing. No matter how hard I try, you will never fully trust me, so why should I waste time on it?" 

"Heh, I hope you're not like that idiot Ince Zangwill, otherwise I'll have to find a new master again, what a hassle."

The upright feather pen fell over, lying motionless.

Was it in a mood now?

Hastur wasn't quite sure what 008's personality was like. Surely he didn't have to coax it?

"I'm not sure," Sharon spoke up, cutting off Hastur's question.

Smack!

The feather pen lying on the paper stood up again, quickly writing another passage on the blank space.

"My new master, you are not like that idiot Ince Zangwill. His trust means nothing to me, while yours is a blessing." 

"..."

Was it switching to a sycophantic mode now?

Hastur couldn't help but ask, "Is the mirror for flattering your relative?"

"Like this?" 

008 added an image of a blossoming firework after that sentence.

"..." 

"So the new master enjoys being fawned over like this? How disgusting, no no no, what an exquisite hobby. Very well, to gain the master's trust, I am willing to silently endure this heartless lashing. Please have mercy, master." 

"..."

Hastur was too lazy to comment on 008's fickle personality anymore.

Seeing Hastur's speechlessness, a rare smile appeared on Sharon's face as she stood by, but it was fleeting, only noticed by the little black cat Aisara.

Ignored by everyone, 008 lay down again, lying still on the paper covered in writing, looking no different from an ordinary feather pen.

Hmm, he needed to find a suitable pen case to put it in, preferably one with a lock to prevent it from growing legs and running away on its own.

That night, unable to find a suitable pen case, Hastur grasped the Fate Talisman and entered the dream realm. 

Through the Fate Talisman, he could also contact Will, who was far away in Beckland.

In the dream, Will was sitting at a desk, holding a feather pen and scribbling on a blank sheet of paper.

Before Hastur could ask, Will spoke first, "I didn't expect 008 to end up in your hands."

"You knew?"

"You put that Fate Talisman on 008's head, so I could sense it to some degree." 

"Is there a good way to deal with this?"

Hastur walked over, intending to appreciate Will's artwork, but Will quickly crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it away.

Still littering in the dream realm, what a refined person.

"Masking it from a distance isn't difficult, but if it's too close, Adam will still sense it. Of course, this sensing is relative - 008 will also become aware. As long as it doesn't want to be devoured, it will warn you to leave quickly." 

"Is there no way to completely block this sensing?"

"I have no way, but you do." 

"Be more specific."

"Those yellow-robed monks seem quite adept at dealing with 008." 

Upon hearing this, Hastur was finally satisfied and immediately promised to send Will a bunch of ice cream.

"Heh, an empty promise." 

Will disdainfully curled his lip. Currently, Hastur was far away in South Wilshire, so it would be difficult for him to take care of things in Beckland.

"Then I'll put it on the tab first."

...

South Wilshire, southwestern hinterland, Sperling City.

From here, continuing to the right through two more large areas would reach Dyssia County.

The transportation was still quite convenient, but many places within the jurisdiction were private lands of the nobles, unable to be developed in a coordinated manner. 

The economy depended entirely on how capable each noble lord was.

Today, a carriage traveled along the still dirt road towards the city hall in the city center.

Inside the carriage, Hastur opened the curtain to observe the situation near the streets, such as the buildings, residents' clothing, and items for sale. From these small details, he could get a rough idea of the local conditions.

After looking around, he felt a bit disappointed. Even the city area appeared so dilapidated - his own territory must be impoverished beyond belief.

To develop and expand would require a very long time, he estimated he could only start by growing crops first.

When the carriage arrived at the gate of the city hall, Hastur got off and paid the coachman 10 gold pounds for his service over the past few days - a well-deserved fee for his diligent work.

As Hastur approached the entrance, the gatekeeper stopped him. After a simple announcement, the actual person in charge of Sperling City, Mayor Ron, came out to greet him.

Around fifty years old, with a slight beer belly and a classic Mediterranean hairstyle, the few remaining tufts of hair on his head were already precarious.

"Are you Hastur Campbell, the Count from Beckland?"

Mayor Ron clearly couldn't believe that a Count from Beckland would come to such a small place.

"This is the appointment letter from the King." 

Hastur took out an appointment letter bearing the seal of the King of the Rune Kingdom - something he always kept on his person, without losing or damaging it.

"So you're the heir of the Campbell family!"

After seeing the appointment letter, Mayor Ron no longer had any doubts. 

He had also received news from the Duke of South Wilshire that a young Count might be arriving here, asking him to pay some attention.

He didn't expect the Count to show up just a few days later.

"I almost forgot to invite you inside to have a seat."

Mayor Ron smacked his forehead and promptly ushered Hastur into the city hall.

Just based on their noble ranks, the Count outranked him, a hereditary Viscount.

While the streets outside looked impoverished, this place showed no signs of poverty - even the tea they were served was premium highland tea specially imported from the Southern Continent.

After a brief chat, Mayor Ron asked, "Count Campbell, have you visited the Duke of South Wilshire yet?"

"I'll go pay my respects to the Duke after settling in here first. Is there a problem?"

Mayor Ron poured Hastur another cup of tea, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice, "It's like this - the Duke has sent people to notify me these past few days to pay attention to your movements. Once I encounter you, I'm supposed to immediately report to the Duke."

"Quite a few things happened along the way, no wonder the Duke is so concerned."

Hastur didn't pay too much attention to this - while he had gone missing, the person responsible for monitoring him was still alive and well, likely a guest of the Duke of South Wilshire at the moment.

"So should I report the situation to the Duke as it is?"

It then occurred to Hastur that this Mayor Ron didn't seem to be on the Duke of South Wilshire's side - he was asking for Hastur's opinion, probably not wanting to offend his new neighbor.

"No need to rush, I'll pay a visit to the Duke myself and give him a surprise."

"That's fine too."

Mayor Ron breathed a sigh of relief. As the saying goes, distant relatives are not as good as close neighbors. He didn't want to offend this new neighbor from Beckland just because of the Duke of South Wilshire.

Moreover, a large part of his jurisdiction was actually this Count Campbell's territory, so he would have to consult with the Count on many matters going forward.

"I'd like to see a map of this area, if that's alright?"

"Of course."

Mayor Ron quickly had someone bring a detailed map of the surrounding area, which included information about his jurisdiction.

"From here to here, and from here to here, all of this is currently your territory."

Mayor Ron carefully circled Hastur's territory on the map.

On this map that only covered a few nearby cities, Hastur's territory was quite prominent.

His lands spanned three cities, with the largest portion within Sperling City, occupying many of its outer villages.

"Whose territories are these few areas near the harbor?"

Hastur pointed to the areas leaning towards the harbor.

"The lands near the harbor don't belong to any nobles, but are directly managed by people sent by the Duke."

Hastur chuckled lightly, "It seems the Duke is quite concerned about the security of the harbor."

"The hinterland areas are quite impoverished, with seventy percent of the finances relying on the coastal harbor cities. This is the Duke's restricted area, no one is allowed to interfere."

Mayor Ron gave Hastur a look that everyone understood.

The harbor cities were the wealthiest, a huge source of riches. 

The two didn't talk for too long. At dinner time, Mayor Ron enthusiastically invited Hastur to dine there and prepared some evening entertainment, but Hastur declined, citing fatigue from the journey.

The next day, following the map, Hastur headed towards the central castle of his territory in South Wilshire.

It had been built over thirty years ago by his Campbell ancestors and preserved until now. 

Previously, Hastur had instructed the butler Neil to send some people to manage the basic daily cleaning of the castle.

Last time, the yellow-robed monk who accepted his commission had also sent back a letter describing many things about South Wilshire.

"If he's smart enough, he should be waiting for me at the castle now."

(End of chapter)