I Will Teach You How to Hunt Gods

Chapter 570 148: Reasons (4,200 Words)

Originally thought that the issue needing ten minutes to be dragged out was resolved by Mokaka in just half a minute, and he was asked rather impatiently.

Now, there are still four minutes before the Black Burial takes effect. How will he manage to stall?

Though at this moment he already somewhat admired Mokaka, feeling that if Mokaka truly died here, it would be a tremendous loss for the civilians in the Lower City and even the entire Nest City No. 3... but he had no choice.

Before setting out, Enfield used a special spell to carve some kind of spirit talisman on him, saying it was to obscure the Death God's perception.

But he knew the spell's effect was definitely more than this because he had seen similar runes on the family-raised Death Warriors, which were used to safeguard secrets and prevent betrayal through Death God Power.

Once the spell takes effect, any act of betrayal against the family by the Death Warriors would lead to destruction and death.

Yang Qian felt himself not that noble; although his life was worthless in others' eyes, it was priceless to him. Therefore, he had to complete the task.

But now, how could he hold onto Mokaka?

He could feel that Mokaka had already developed some impatience with him, her "number one fan."

Mokaka needed communication; she was willing to explain her policies to her fans, but from the beginning of the conversation until now, Yang Qian only kept "asking" without offering any of his own views or valuable opinions.

Mokaka was fatigued and naturally unwilling to continue talking.

"I... I..."

For a moment, Yang Qian's throat was somewhat blocked, unsure of what to say.

Continuing to ask policy questions? That certainly wouldn't stump Mokaka, and it would inevitably cause her weariness, leading her to perhaps leave without a word, and he would lose the opportunity entirely.

Asking personal matters? That seemed inappropriate; Mokaka had never talked about her family in her previous broadcasts, so people only learned she was the Hugo Clan's heiress at this inauguration ceremony.

This is enough to prove that Mokaka disliked talking about personal matters, at least with someone unfamiliar like him.

How about trying to pester persistently?

Yang Qian couldn't help but glance sideways at Tian En, who was squinting, warningly looking at him, making Yang Qian shiver.

Still not working.

If he dared make a move, this Maid Chief could probably tear him to pieces in the first moment.

"What... what should I do?"

Yang Qian gritted his teeth, with all kinds of strange ideas and rhetoric continuously surfacing in his mind, only to be quickly negated.

His mind was operating at the fastest speed ever in his life, but his intelligence was slowly being dragged down by various denial plans.

In a trance, a memory deliberately forgotten by him resurfaced in his mind.

In 2047, Yang Qian was born into a Blacksmith family in the Lower City of Nest City No. 3. His father was a well-known Prosthetic Body craftsman nearby, and his mother was a factory worker with stable income, so the family's condition was fairly good, at least supporting Yang Qian's schooling.

Yang Qian was always called a prodigy since childhood; discussing reading and writing, there wasn't a student in the districts stronger than him.

One day, he remembered it was the day of middle school graduation; after exams, the teacher gathered the students, asking what their future plans were or what they wished to do.

However, how could children born in the Lower City have many so-called ideals? Being able to eat delicious meals and live in houses without mice and flies everywhere was already satisfying.

So most answered either to earn more money or find a good job.

But when it came to Yang Qian, he said he wanted to be a "Civil Servant," which meant assisting administrative officials or serving as a secretary, and then strive to improve people's livelihood, benefiting the lower-class civilians.

The classmates roared with laughter, thinking Yang Qian naive, what improvement of people's livelihood; those were terms from decades ago. In today's age, everyone is focused on stuffing money into their pockets; anything else is "a crooked path."

Only the teacher who had served in the army didn't laugh.

The teacher just gave him a meaningful look and then left a profound comment.

"If you want to do it, then go do it; try when you're young, when your parents can still support and assist you."

"This way... you might have a chance to do what you want."

At that time, Yang Qian found it difficult to understand these words.

What did wanting to be a civil servant, improve people's livelihoods, have to do with his parents?

But soon after, he came to understand.

In college, he actively participated in various philanthropic activities, even spending his own money to assist impoverished students, accumulating significant popularity in school. Eventually, he became the student council president, beginning to access power.

Of course, at that time, he didn't engage in production, naturally not earning any money.

The money he used for living and supporting impoverished students was wired by his Blacksmith father and worker mother.

For his aspirations, his parents never expressed anything, just supported him with smiles, saying... doing some good deeds wasn't bad either.

Some wealthy family's children tried to bribe him to give them excellent evaluations on their records, but Yang Qian sternly refused, saying those people were black sheep, dreaming of corrupting him with money; it was sheer fantasy.

So at this age, Yang Qian felt he was omnipotent, capable of accomplishing any difficult task.

However, sometimes the common people's lives aren't always smooth sailing, and Yang Qian was naturally no exception.

During a gang clash, Yang Qian's father accidentally got involved and died unexplainably under shrapnel.

And the small Blacksmith shop this honest man built with lifelong savings was seized by a new gang.

Suddenly, Yang Qian's family fell from middle-class to welfare recipient.

All burdens fell upon his mother, and prolonged heavy work and sorrow soon collapsed this woman.

His mother entered the hospital, with daily expenses being astronomical figures the small family couldn't even dream of, and as the only man in the family, Yang Qian had no skill to earn money.

He suddenly found the world became unkind; the birds and flowers he once saw daily vanished, replaced by daily necessities and various overdue bills.

His past persistence and pride were so trivial, not enough to even exchange half a bottle of medicine for his mother's treatment.

So finally, faced with bribery from another wealthy young master, he smoked for a long time before agreeing, leading to inevitable corruption.

The former ideals and aspirations were fragile as paper before reality.

In that moment, Yang Qian finally understood the teacher's words.

Having ideals is certainly good, but for people in the Lower City, it's too expensive because before pursuing ideals, Lower City people must feed themselves and ensure their survival...

For this reason, only those who don't worry about survival, having enough fallback and room for error, can pursue ideals, like he, when his parents were still alive, no concern about food and drink, not having to consider anything, and... Mokaka, born into a noble family.

Nobles and Apprentice Death Gods have the authority to dream, the confidence to proclaim improving livelihoods.

But the issue is, these two groups are pure beneficiaries; they live in luxury, perhaps never having suffered.

How could such people feel the common people's suffering, having empathy for civilians?

Thinking this, Yang Qian simply emptied his mind and instinctively murmured...

"Why are you standing on the side of the civilians, Miss Hugo..."

"You're a noble, aren't you supposed to be on the opposite side of us? What are you really thinking?"

This comment was actually somewhat impolite.

But Mokaka wasn't angry; instead, she paused, silently contemplating.

After a long while, she finally smiled and slowly spoke...

"Probably because of instinct."

"I can't stand seeing innocents suffer endlessly, nor do I want to see kind-hearted civilians die because they aren't ruthless or aggressive enough. Whenever I see those plagued by hunger and cold, I feel instinctively uncomfortable."

"I think the world shouldn't be like this, so I want to change it."

"The reason is just that simple."