Chapter 27: There's Something Wrong with Your Taxi, Isn't There?

The banquet continued.

Yellow Hair covered his nose, gulping down the nauseating food in large bites.

Chen Mu, on the other hand, chatted merrily with the duke and duchess, showing no sign of having entered a strange and eerie scene.

Throughout the conversation, Chen Mu occasionally flaunted his wealth, causing the duchess’s eyes to shine with admiration.

The duke was also quite interested in Chen Mu’s spirit money.

The duke was currently in dire straits, desperately needing a large amount of spirit money to maintain his dignified lifestyle.

Chen Mu had just appeared, evidently possessing a vast quantity of spirit money—a man clearly not short of money.

So, how could the duke obtain spirit money from Chen Mu?

What could he possibly offer that would attract someone like Chen Mu?

For a man with such a background, ordinary things would hardly catch his eye.

If the duke presented something too inferior, wouldn’t that be an insult to Chen Mu?

Suddenly, the duke had an idea: he had a “Phantom General-level” artifact in his possession.

The Death Heavy Armor.

This “Phantom General-level” artifact should pique Chen Mu’s interest.

Silently, the duke prayed that Chen Mu would be interested; otherwise, he truly had no idea how to exchange for a large sum of spirit money.

An hour later, with Yellow Hair so disgusted he had become numb, he swallowed the last eyeball, and the banquet finally ended.

The old butler approached Yellow Hair and Chen Mu, saying,

“Thank you both for visiting the Mist Museum.

I hope the duke’s hospitality was to your satisfaction.

If there is nothing else, you may now leave the Mist Museum.”

The butler’s words marked the conclusion of the Mist Museum mission.

Five people had participated in the mission, but only two survived.

Chen Mu was an exception; discounting him, only one out of the other four survived—a 25% survival rate.

Hearing the mission was over, Yellow Hair finally breathed a sigh of relief.

His belly was stretched tight like a balloon, and his throat was filled with the stench of rotting blood.

The thought of having eaten so much made Yellow Hair’s mind explode.

Looking at Chen Mu again, the man had barely eaten anything all along—if he did, it was only cake!

Yellow Hair’s temper flared once more.

Just wait—while I suffer like this, you dare to be so comfortable? Once we leave the Mist Museum, I’m going to snatch everything from you.

---

Until now, Chen Mu had never displayed any real strength, giving Yellow Hair a false sense of security.

Yellow Hair believed that Chen Mu was nothing more than a wealthy man with spirit money, and from Chen Mu’s clean and tidy appearance, he looked far from powerful.

He thought Chen Mu was only impressive inside the eerie scene because of his spirit money.

Once outside, Yellow Hair was confident he could kill Chen Mu with a single stab.

With this in mind, Yellow Hair shot a fierce glare at Chen Mu before descending the stairs to leave.

He didn’t want to stay another second in the Mist Museum—he needed to find a hiding spot outside, wait for Chen Mu to come out, and stab him to death.

The duke noticed Yellow Hair’s hostility. After Yellow Hair left, the duke said to Chen Mu,

“Mr. Chen, that blond fellow seems rather unfriendly toward you.”

“Of course, I noticed,” Chen Mu nodded.

Then he added,

“Moreover, he intends to kill me. Your Grace, didn’t you notice? He secretly took a dinner knife from the table. He must be planning to kill me.”

Hearing this, the duke was somewhat surprised.

He had been chatting with Chen Mu the whole time and hadn’t noticed when Yellow Hair quietly took a dinner knife.

Yet Chen Mu, who was simultaneously talking with both the duke and duchess, still caught Yellow Hair’s subtle move.

Such keen observation left the duke feeling somewhat ashamed.

“Mr. Chen, if you’re worried, I can have someone deal with him,” the duke offered help generously.

Chen Mu smiled and politely declined, “Thank you for the offer, Your Grace, but it’s unnecessary. My men are already waiting outside for him.”

Hearing that Chen Mu had subordinates, the duke’s estimation of him rose even higher. He thought, “I was right—Mr. Chen has background and strength.”

“Mr. Chen, I have something good here. I wonder if you’d be interested.”

“Oh?” Chen Mu’s heart leapt. It seemed the duke could no longer restrain himself and was about to present the “Phantom General-level” artifact.

“Don’t rush, Mr. Chen. I’ll take you to see it now,” the duke said.

Meanwhile, Yellow Hair had already left the museum.

Behind him, the museum’s gate clicked shut. Chen Mu did not follow.

Yellow Hair frowned. Had Chen Mu been left behind?

He was still planning to kill Chen Mu, but if Chen Mu didn’t come out for so long, how long would he have to wait?

Yellow Hair glanced around.

The Mist Museum was surrounded by a dense jungle.

Night had fallen, thick fog hung in the air, and the atmosphere was damp and cold.

Wearing only a short-sleeved shirt, Yellow Hair was shivering from the chill.

---

Worse still, after eating so much decayed meat, Yellow Hair’s stomach had begun to churn violently.

The pain inside was unbearable, like knives twisting.

Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as his discomfort grew.

What exactly had the duke fed him?

He couldn’t wait here any longer; he’d be in agony to death.

He had barely survived; he couldn’t die from pain after the mission ended.

His stomach was in turmoil, and he decided he needed to get to a hospital immediately!

Chen Mu wouldn’t be coming out any time soon; if he hurried, he could get a stomach pump, and maybe even return before Chen Mu left—just in time to kill him at the gate.

With that thought, Yellow Hair hurried toward the forest road.

The forest road was long—how long would he have to walk?

He wanted to call an ambulance but checked his phone: no signal.

Just then, Yellow Hair was delighted to see a taxi parked at the forest road’s entrance.

A stroke of luck!

Clutching his aching stomach, he hurried toward the taxi.

Perhaps due to the pain or his lack of caution in this eerie apocalypse, Yellow Hair didn’t stop to wonder why a taxi would be parked in the depths of the mountain forest so late at night.

He opened the taxi door and climbed in without a word.

“Driver, to the hospital! Hurry up—I’m dying of pain! If you don’t speed up, I swear I’ll kill you!” he threatened, brandishing the dinner knife he had secretly hidden.

The taxi driver sat behind the wheel without turning around, started the engine, and began driving down the forest road.

In the back seat, Yellow Hair exhaled deeply, clutching his belly and gasping.

Suddenly, he noticed something wrong—a faint metallic, bloody scent in the car.

A thought struck him... could it be he had encountered something strange again?

Cold sweat broke out on his back as he stammered toward the driver,

“Driver... is there something wrong with your taxi?”

But the driver remained silent, as if not hearing him.

The taxi sped up.