Chapter 34: The Harvest

Gima ran to the corner of the alley, stopped, and, using her hood to cover her face, peeked her head out with the caution of a seasoned spy.

What a classic, textbook robbery-in-progress.

Just ten meters away, in the narrow, dark, and very smelly alley, a man dressed as a merchant lay on the ground, groaning. Next to him stood the culprit. He had thick eyebrows, big eyes, dark skin, and a prominent, very convincing beer belly. He looked incredibly fierce. On his back was a bulging backpack taller than a man. It was George, back from withdrawing the money. And beside him, a long-eared female donkey trembled in what could only be described as mortal terror.

George was in the process of nonchalantly placing the heavy backpack onto the donkey’s back.

Gima’s small mouth opened, about to shout a warning.

But then, George, in his new, deep voice, suddenly asked, “Little donkey, excuse me, but are you, by any chance, following me?”

The female donkey let out a terrified, high-pitched bray.

“Thank you for your honest answer.”

George put down the backpack, reared back, and punched the donkey squarely on its head with the force of a battering ram. The poor little donkey saw stars, its head snapped to the side, and it collapsed to the ground in a heap, its legs twitching pathetically.

Wait, you can do that? Just… ask?

Gima quickly shut her mouth, watching in stunned silence as George shouldered the tall, heavy backpack and walked towards her, each step making the pleasant, musical sound of thousands of clinking gold coins.

“There are a surprising number of trackers on this road,” he said, as if commenting on the weather.

“Your perception is truly sharp,” Gima said, her voice full of awe. “To think you could even detect that a common donkey was a trained tracker.” She couldn’t resist reaching out and patting the bulging backpack full of gold coins. Happy time~ happy time~.

“Oh, I just asked around. I happened to ask one more question than I should have.”

George got into the carriage, and Gima followed, still dazed.

“You can even tell when an animal is lying?”

As he pulled the old, lumpy sweater he had used for his fake beer belly out from under his shirt, George replied with the simple confidence of a god, “Of course. I am a Paladin.”

“I see. So you must have just asked anyone who looked even remotely suspicious if they were a tracker.”

What a clever and brutally efficient application of his ability. Although he was her sworn enemy, Gima couldn’t help but feel a tiny, grudging bit of admiration.

“Huh? Not at all. No one looked suspicious to me. They were all hiding far too well,” George said. “So I just asked everyone I saw. Whoever lied, I knocked them out.”

Gima was stunned for a moment. “…Then how many people did you knock out?”

“Twenty-three,” George said thoughtfully. “As an apology, I gave each of them a silver coin.”

What an absolutely breathtaking and terrifying operation.

Gima suddenly felt that George had chosen the wrong profession. It was a cosmic waste for him not to be a Demon Lord. She really should abdicate her former throne and give it to him.

“Wait a minute… then the money…”

As he took off his fake, bushy eyebrows, George sighed.

“Gima, I know you’re shocked, and perhaps even a little disappointed in my methods. But compared to the alternatives, this was the best, and kindest, course of action.”

“Uh, that’s not what I meant,” Gima said. “I mean, the silver coins you gave them, they weren’t the specially minted Bartonian coins from the Holy Sanctuary, were they? That could expose us.”

“Of course not. I already exchanged them for local silver coins.”

Alright. It’s truly a great, tragic loss to the demon realm that you’re not a great villain.

The celestial warhorse pulled the carriage out of the alley and back into the bustling, chaotic streets.

After George had removed his makeup, with Gima’s reluctant help, he put on his silver armor, which had been washed clean of the dye, and once again transformed back into the righteous and awe-inspiring Paladin he was meant to be.

During this time, Gima’s eyes kept darting towards the backpack, which was taller than a man and looked fit to burst. It was stuffed with glorious, beautiful gold coins and was very heavy. The part where the strap connected to the bag was already half-torn. The backpack lay in the carriage, and when the carriage jolted over a pothole, it fell to the floor, and a shimmering, golden stream of beautiful, perfect gold coins spilled out.

Gima stared, transfixed, her pale golden eyes reflecting the glittering gold, her hands momentarily stopping their work.

George took the funnel-shaped gauntlet from Gima’s hands and, as he put it on, said, “Focus.”

Gima tore her greedy gaze away. Then she had a terrible thought: this bag of gold coins might have nothing to do with her. She immediately felt a profound sense of loss and panic. “Ahaha, the gold coins fell out! I’ll just put them back in for you!”

With that, she bent down, grabbed a large handful of gold coins, and slowly, lovingly, stuffed them back into the bag, as if trying to hold on to each and every single coin with her fingers, to memorize their shape and weight.

George shook his head helplessly. “You little demon. You can’t walk straight when you see gold coins.”

This was my money in the first place, you know! My hard-earned evil money!

Gima puffed out her little chest. “What’s wrong with liking money? Well, George, even if I didn’t contribute much to this operation, I still worked hard. Can’t you share a little with me?”

She still needed a thousand gold coins to buy those potion materials.

“We’ll divide it properly after we’re safe,” George said. “And Gima, you…”

Gima hugged the backpack lying on the floor and looked up at him with her big, innocent face. “I just really, really like gold coins.” With that, she stuck her small hand deep into the backpack, stirred the massive pile of gold coins with a blissful sigh, and a look of pure, orgasmic enjoyment appeared on her face.

“Are you a dragon? Be careful you don’t get hit on the head.”

“My cute, precious gold coins would never hit my head.” As soon as her words fell, the carriage hit another jolt, and Gima’s head knocked against the side with a loud thunk. “Ouch, it hurts! This stupid horse!”

“Alright, get up and go to the driver’s seat. A carriage without a driver is very conspicuous.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gima got up. As she passed in front of George, he reached out and flicked her pocket, which made a pleasant, and very telling, metallic sound.

“Gima, put the gold coins back. We’ll divide them properly later, okay?”

Gima’s little face was full of a deep, sorrowful reluctance. “Okay.”

Right in front of George, she took a large handful of gold coins from her pockets and stuffed them back into the backpack. She then grabbed the wooden pole and went to the driver’s seat.

Behind her, the sound of clinking gold coins could be heard as George poured them into a different, prepared backpack, disguising them.

Gima felt as if she could hear every single one of her beautiful gold coins falling into George’s pocket, and then being wasted on some ridiculously benevolent cause like resettling her former maids. Each clink of a gold coin was like a sharp needle piercing her heart. Before long, Gima’s little heart was bleeding profusely.

This is all my blood, sweat, and tears! I painstakingly robbed all of this, one sword strike at a time! Do you think it’s easy to collect protection fees and kill people for their money?! It’s hard work!

Gima couldn’t help but clutch her flat chest, as if she were having a heart attack.

A quarter of an hour later, the carriage stopped in front of the inn. Gima and George got off, each carrying a large, heavy leather bag.

A servant from the inn saw them and came up with a smile.

“Take good care of the warhorse. I’m here to return the carriage,” Gima said, pointing to the carriage behind her.

The servant took the reins, glanced at the bulging backpacks behind them, and asked with a knowing smile, “Sir, are you preparing for a grand adventure?”

George remained silent, a noble and mysterious knight.

The servant didn’t find it strange. For the past few days, everyone in the inn knew that the great Sir George could only speak a hundred and forty words a day.

“Something like that,” Gima said, puffing out her chest. “My master and I are preparing a large amount of supplies. We’re going into the deep mountains to vanquish an evil, treasure-hoarding dragon, then take all of that damn dragon’s gold, haul it all back, and give it all away to the poor, to buy the freedom of all the slaves in the city.”

The servant smiled, his eyes shining with admiration. “You are truly generous, sir. I wish you good fortune in your glorious battles.”

George just nodded, and he and Gima went back to their room.

They closed the door and drew the curtains. The two of them opened their backpacks and poured all the spoils onto the soft carpet. The gold coins scattered on the floor, and for a moment, the whole room seemed much, much brighter.

There was a large, glittering pile of gold coins on the floor, and a single, unassuming wooden box. Besides that, there was nothing.

Although it had been a while, and Gima couldn’t remember exactly what she had stored in her account, she remembered that besides a pile of gold coins, there had also been a large pile of miscellaneous, and very useful, magic equipment.

“There was a lot of other magic equipment and potions, but I didn’t take them,” George said, anticipating her question. “There wasn’t enough space in the backpack. I packed all the gold coins. If I had been carrying a bunch of glowing magic equipment in my hands, my appearance would have been too memorable. I could only go once. I suspect that after I entered the password, they have other ways to open the Demon Lord Kima’s bank vault without me.”

Gima immediately understood George’s reasoning. These gold coins were minted by dwarves. Their style was different from the local currency, and they were all brand new. The features were far too obvious. If he had left a part of it in the vault, and the Great Good Master had found out, he would just have to keep an eye on the market for a large sum of new dwarven gold coins to find them.

“Did you find the key to the Demon Lord Kima’s treasure vault?”

“It should be this.” George took a small wooden box from the pile of gold coins. A line of Common Tongue, which looked like a mess of crawling worms, was written on the lid: “I am the key box.”

He opened it. On the inside of the lid, in the same ugly, almost childish handwriting, was written:

“This is the key to the treasure vault. On the day of the full moon, at the top of the treeless hill in the eastern suburbs, face the moon and shout in Common Tongue: ‘I am Ultraman, transform! Moon Warrior!’ A door will appear. After you enter, use the key, turn it left three times, then right three times, and the door will open.”

Inside the box lay a single, plain-looking silver key.

George commented, “Such ugly, terrible handwriting. It must have been written by the Demon Lord himself.”

Gima looked at the key, breathing a silent sigh of relief in her heart.

“Gima, let me keep the key for now, for safekeeping.”

“Okay. You can take it. You’re the master, after all,” she said sweetly.

George tapped Gima on the head with his finger. “No more strange talk.”

When did I get so chummy with you that you can just tap me on the head?

Gima pouted, her eyes fixed on the glittering gold coins on the floor, which were dotted with a few shiny silver ones.

“Aren’t you greedy for the key to the treasure vault, Gima? It contains the entire lifelong collection of a great Demon Lord,” George asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Lifelong my ass. I have another, much bigger treasure vault.

“I only like the gold coins that I can see right in front of me,” Gima said, patting the pile.

“Alright then. I was afraid you were going to cry,” George said, putting the key in his pocket.

“I’m not a crybaby.”

“The bedsheet was wet with your tears.”

“Well, although I seemed calm on the surface, the corporal punishment you administered has left an indelible, traumatic shadow on my little heart,” Gima said with a dramatic sniffle. “I need the brilliant, radiant light of gold coins to drive away the shadow in my heart.”

“Lies.”

“At least give me some comfort,” Gima said carefully. “Can you give me… two thousand gold coins?”

She was very anxious. After all, George was much stronger than her now and had taken the main risk in retrieving the money. She estimated that she would only get a few handfuls of gold coins as a reward.

“Of course we’ll split it evenly,” George said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Evenly? Fifty-fifty?” Gima felt her heart skip a beat.

“Yes,” George looked at Gima strangely. “From your expression, you seem to think I was going to take all the gold coins for myself. You can choose your half first.”

Stupid! What an absolute, magnificent idiot! If I were you, I would have at most grabbed a handful of gold coins and magnanimously given them to the other person as a reward!

“Yahooo!”

Gima practically pounced on the gold coins, her small hands gathering them up with a manic energy. She began to meticulously pick through the gold and silver coins, one by one.

“Gima, hurry up. They’re all the newest, shiniest gold coins.”

“No. Only the cutest, most perfect gold coins are allowed to enter my money pouch.”

Gima continued to pick and choose. After fifteen long, painstaking minutes, she was finally done. She had taken all the coins and piled them up neatly.

“Alright, my turn. I really should have brought another extra-dimensional bag.”

George knelt down and began to gather up the remaining gold coins.

Gima counted. George had brought back about ten thousand gold coins, weighing a hundred kilograms. She had gotten five thousand gold coins, a handful of silver coins, and…

The real key to the treasure vault.

She looked at George’s back as he busily picked up the money, a sly, triumphant smile spreading across her face.

What an idiot. The key in the box was a fake I prepared ages ago. The real key is mixed in with the gold coins I just "chose".

Gima couldn’t help but tighten her grip on a special silver coin in her hand. This silver coin, unlike all the others, had two heads.

Her greedy, childish performance just now had been nothing but a brilliant, masterful deception to fool the hopelessly dense, and wonderfully righteous, Hero George.