In the Name of Empress

Chapter 735 407: How Much Is Your Life Worth?_2

When she was here, the other patrons in the bar dared not speak loudly, nor did they dare sit at the tables near her.

Every time the bar owner saw her, he felt a toothache.

This damn woman made his business hard every time she visited.

Not everyone wanted to experience a library's atmosphere in a bar; most people came to bars to enjoy the noise and heat.

You must keep quiet in a library; must you also be quiet in a bar? Isn't that a wasted trip?

Just as the owner thought, when the cold woman appeared, a few customers who were drinking became uninterested and paid their tabs to leave.

The owner forced a smile, helplessly seeing off the guests; when his back was to the cold woman, he wore a look of disdain, but when he turned around, he greeted her with a smile as bright as a flower.

Three days, a whole three days!

When the woman entered the bar and asked about the prices of various drinks, he answered truthfully, thinking she was a big spender, but then she asked if plain water was free.

The owner thought to himself, "I'm not running a black market shop; can I really charge for a glass of water?" Calmly, he said, "It's free."

The cold woman sat down boldly, ordered a glass of plain water, and then sat in a daze.

After all, running a bar in the Netherworld meant he had seen all kinds of people; many were far stranger than her.

Though she didn't spend money, he wasn't bothered over a glass of water.

The owner wishfully assumed the cold woman just didn't have money on her and was shy about asking, so she came for a glass of water to wet her throat, intending to leave after drinking it.

Thinking of it as a good deed, he let her be.

After all, the woman was beautiful; admiring her more was a bonus.

However, the owner soon regretted it.

After the woman sat down, she demanded that people around her should not make noise.

What's a bar? A place to have fun and vent emotions. The people who came here couldn't stand it and went up to argue.

However, the cold woman completely ignored those who came to argue; if anyone dared to make a noise, she would act.

She didn't hit anyone; she just froze their drink into ice and stuffed it into their mouth to block their throat when they spoke.

Such provocative behavior naturally aroused public wrath, several drinking patrons rushed over, only to be thrown out of the bar and slammed onto the street.

Those who could survive in the Netherworld mostly had fighting prowess; those who dared to make a move in a bar usually had some unique skills, yet these usually arrogant guys couldn't fight back against the woman.

The woman tossed them out like trash.

Those thrown out weren't injured, they just couldn't get up.

After a few back and forths, everyone knew this woman was not to be trifled with and dared not oppose her.

If they couldn't provoke her, they could avoid her; since coming to the bar was unhappy, they simply stopped coming.

The owner stared hard at the cold woman, slowly making his way behind the bar, his broad hands touching the heavy sword below the counter.

He squinted, his eyes turning from black to bright red.

His body swelled a bit larger, transforming from a greasy middle-aged man to an enraged maniac.

His youthful adventures replayed in his mind, the glorious past of causing havoc throughout the realm of Kalia before being sent to the Netherworld made his expression instantly bold.

"Damn it, I've never been humiliated like this in my life. If I endure this, then..."

The owner's pupils suddenly enlarged, his thick hands slightly trembled, his red eyes turned black again, and he changed back from a gallant Berserker to a greasy middle-aged man.

He saw the cold woman slicing half a glass of water with her slender fingers, lightly flicking it so that the water seemed obedient like jelly and was sent into her mouth.

He drew a sharp intake of breath, all his boldness vanished into thin air.

As everyone knows, if a blade is fast enough, it can cut water in a short time and even create the astonishing visual effect of water flowing backward.

When he was young, the owner himself could swing the heavy sword like a fan, impenetrable to water.

He had once cut through an entire river, splitting the water for several seconds.

The Water Severing Sword Saint was a name earned through merit.

But all of that relied on the sword being exceptionally quick.

The cold woman separated a glass of water with a very gentle motion, even changing the basic property of the water, a kind of power he had never even heard of.

This level of power control was beyond his comprehension and made him wisely give up on resisting.

He lowered his head in frustration, but happened to see the remaining half glass of water float into the woman's palm, where it started to burn.

The crystalline water leaped in her palm in the form of flames.

Waves of heat came towards him, proving it wasn't an illusion.

The owner's legs almost gave out, and he nearly kneeled on the spot.

To say cutting half a glass of water barely stayed within his realm of understanding, lighting the water on fire shattered his conception of the world.

He collapsed into the chair in despair, eyes staring blankly.

At least, at least she wasn't murderous. At worst, he'd lose some money, consider it an appearance fee for such a spectacular show.

Gritting his teeth, the owner was just about to admit defeat and soften his stance when the woman waved at him.

The owner, trembling with fear, shuffled his steps as if going to execution, carefully putting on a fawning expression in front of the woman.

"Dear madam, what can I do for you?"

"Name?" the woman asked, her calm voice was indescribably icy.

"Cook Harris." The owner dared not delay and answered instantly.

"Sofia, I want to discuss a business deal with you."

"Please, go ahead."

"I need money and information."

Want money? The owner breathed a sigh of relief.

If money can solve the problem, no matter how big, it's a small problem; isn't it just being extorted? So be it.

He patted his chest, boldly expressing to Sofia, "Respected Miss Sofia, just state how much you want, I'll give it all as long as I don't go bankrupt."

Sofia's expression suddenly turned colder, the flame in her palm immediately froze, shattering on the ground.

Cook, the owner, was scared out of his wits, completely clueless about which of his words offended the female god of death before him, his body shaking uncontrollably.

"Do I look like a beggar?" Sofia asked indifferently.

The owner almost burst into tears, surely you aren't a beggar, you are a robber.

Sofia didn't make things difficult for him, she simply said calmly: "I could kill you."

Cook lowered his head in despair, unable to speak, he couldn't refute.

"If you want to live, pay ransom."

Cook was left speechless, it was his first time seeing someone package robbery so uniquely.

He was drenched in sweat, calculating for a long time, tremblingly took a check out of his pocket, hesitated for a while before writing a number, holding it out with both hands.

Sofia didn't make things difficult for him, she just added a zero at the end, then accepted the check.

Cook's expression instantly collapsed, he wanted to speak, but couldn't say a word.

Sofia said calmly, "For you to consider so long, the price should be about right. So, I accept."

Cook was so angry that his lips trembled.

To agree and still multiply by ten, what kind of twisted logic is that?

"Did you send someone to tip off to catch me?"

Cook was drenched in sweat all over, his whole body, the fat and the muscular bulk hidden beneath, shook.

He dared not deny, nor dare to admit, he just wished to faint.

"Such actions deserve to be killed ten times, demanding tenfold penalty is very reasonable, isn't it?"

What else could Cook say? Bargaining could perhaps raise the price even higher.

He just didn't quite understand, wasn't the Judge the strongest in Freedom City? If someone was causing trouble here, would he really ignore it?

Sofia saw through Cook's little trick at a glance, mockingly teasing, "Guess why he doesn't dare to come?"

Did Cook dare to speak?

It was obvious; he thought it was a small matter and couldn't be bothered.

But Sofia's next words made him nearly burst into laughter.

"Because he doesn't want to die."

Cook finally couldn't help but laugh, "Miss Sofia, I admit your strength is unmatched, but the Judge is invincible below the Divine Domain, you are too arrogant."

Sofia chuckled softly, reached into the air with a grasp, causing the account book and pen on the bar to fly over.

Sofia casually tore out a page from the account book, wrote an astronomical figure on it, and tossed it to Cook.

She filled the glass with plain water again, overturned the glass in mid-air, allowing the water to fall like sand in an hourglass, dripping steadily.

"If you don't ransom your life before the water runs out, then don't bother coming."

Cook fearfully watched the floating "sand clock" of water in mid-air, drenched in sweat.

It was clear the woman was here to pick a quarrel.

The Netherworld was in serious trouble.