The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 144: Fishing in Troubled Waters

Wu Yuan thought for a moment, gritted his teeth, and made his decision.

“Let One Ear go. Even if it stirs up a soul disaster, so be it.”

“After all, it won’t be Little Green Mountain that suffers. At worst, after the water demons of Polong Lake are all dead, I’ll just occupy the empty territory. That wouldn’t be a loss either.”

As for why Wu Yuan wasn’t going himself? He needed to hold the fort.

Little Green Mountain wasn’t as obscure as before. Destroying the Corrupt Water Pool had sent shockwaves through the local geomancy, affecting the entire Azure Spirit Mountain Range. The neighboring demon tribes had taken notice. Everyone wanted to know which brain-dead lunatic dared to destroy an Earth Vein.

The Pangolin and Little Gray were running ragged every day, clearing out infiltrating scouts. However, this also had benefits; the intruders were strong, providing excellent raw material for Blood Essence.

“One Ear!” Wu Yuan shouted.

“Boss!”

As soon as the voice fell, One Ear materialized outside the treehouse like a ghost.

His fur had turned a sickly grayish-white. The scars covering his body resembled twisted, screaming faces—fierce and terrifying. to Wu Yuan’s demonic sense, those scars emitted a constant, mournful soul-howl that made even a fellow rat shiver.

Wu Yuan pinched the bridge of his nose. “One Ear, can’t you restrain your aura? Look, you’ve scared the messenger half to death!”

He pointed at the little beaver on the ground, who had fainted stiff from sheer terror.

One Ear tried to dampen his killing intent, but his cold, expressionless face only became more serious, making him appear even gloomier in the dim light of the treehouse.

Wu Yuan waved his hand. “Forget it. There’s something I need you to do.”

One Ear stood at attention. “Alright, Boss. Just give the order!”

“Go help Bibo at the Beaver Water Fortress,” Wu Yuan commanded. “He’s under a lot of pressure lately.”

“Your mission is to clear out the troublemaking water demons. They are perfect for refining Blood Essence. But…” Wu Yuan paused, his eyes gleaming with cunning. “Hide your identity. Pretend to be an enforcer from the Black Water Flood Dragon Snake’s faction.”

“Make them fear you. Make them believe the Snake Brothers are purging everyone.”

“Then, pick out the poorer demons and kill them for materials. Don’t waste the flesh and blood. But for the wealthy ones—the clans that produce spiritual materials like Clam Demons or Spirit Turtles—force them to the brink of survival.”

Wu Yuan began to gesture animatedly, his excitement growing.

“Drive them into a corner. Then, have Bibo step in as the ‘savior’ to rescue and absorb their clans. Make them grateful. Make them indebted!”

“Have Bibo launch ‘Safe Houses’ at the Water Fortress and set up a protected trading market. We will profit from the war on both sides!”

One Ear scratched his head, looking slightly confused by the economic strategy. “So… basically, just killing demons and exterminating clans, but with extra steps?”

“I’m familiar with that. Don’t worry, Boss. I guarantee I’ll complete the mission!”

Wu Yuan patted One Ear’s shoulder with satisfaction. “Work hard. Put in the effort. Strive to let me eat spirit fish with every meal!”

One Ear grabbed the fainting beaver by the scruff of its neck. “Boss, don’t worry!”

The rough handling woke the little beaver. It opened its eyes, saw the face of the monster holding it, rolled its eyes back, and fainted again.

One Ear frowned, dissatisfied. “How does Bibo educate the younger generation? How can someone so timid serve the Boss? Useless.”

Wu Yuan looked at the grim reaper holding a fluff-ball and decided not to comment. He waved his hand. “Go. Be careful on the way.”

Polong Lake, Beaver Water Fortress.

Bibo stood on the ramparts of his fortress, looking out at the shadowy figures on the water. He felt a deep worry gnawing at him.

Since establishing the Beaver Water Fortress, development had been swift. Relying on his mid-stage Qi Condensation strength and a legion of rat demons, he had expanded from a small outpost to a chain of fortified islands occupying the southern shore.

These fortresses were equipped with Low-Grade defensive formations—enough to handle ordinary threats. But lately, the pressure was mounting.

He had spotted shrimp soldiers and crab generals spying on his perimeter. The Black Water Flood Dragon Snake had begun to covet his territory. Bibo dared not relax for a moment.

Just then, a thick fog rolled over the water.

In the blink of an eye, visibility dropped to zero. Bibo couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face.

Something’s wrong.

Fog on the lake was common, but Bibo’s demonic sense couldn’t penetrate this white mist. It was blocked by an invisible barrier.

“Activate the formations! Everyone, be on guard!” Bibo ordered loudly. “Stay sharp! Don’t let them find an opening!”

“Wait! Grandpa! I haven’t gotten in yet!”

A familiar, panicked voice cried out from the mist.

Bibo extended a claw, manipulating a stream of water to pull the speaker inside the barrier. It was the little beaver messenger, dripping wet and shivering.

“Grandpa! I was scared to death! I almost didn’t make it back!”

Bibo looked at his beloved grandson, his tense brow relaxing slightly. “Address me as Commander! Weren’t you sent to ask for reinforcements? How did you end up like this?”

The little beaver calmed down slightly. “I brought help! It’s that super scary big rat! But he dropped me off at the entrance and disappeared. He told me to come in by myself!”

“He also gave me this for you. It’s the Great King’s instruction.”

The little beaver handed over a Message Stone.

Bibo listened to the recording. His eyes lit up, and he secretly praised Wu Yuan’s ruthlessness.

The Great King’s plan is dangerous… but brilliant. Profiting from chaos.

One Ear should be able to pull it off, right?

Suddenly, the fog outside the barrier came alive with terrified screams.

“Who’s attacking me?!”

“There’s a monster!”

“Don’t eat me! NO!”

CRUNCH.

The sound of bones snapping echoed wetly through the mist, accompanied by mournful wails that sounded like they came from the netherworld itself.

Then came the soul-howls—piercing, ghostly shrieks that made the fur of every beaver in the fortress stand on end.

The little beaver hugged Bibo’s leg, trembling violently.

“That’s the sound! It’s him! The Grim Reaper is here!”