316 Do I Look Like An Organ Trader?

While most illegal things within the Holy Continent turned out entirely legal within the Barbarian Continent, thus, voiding the need for a black market, some trades still faced more regulation than others.

Prime among them was organ trading. Though primarily affecting mortals and low-level cultivators, there were times when due to peculiar wounds, even high-level cultivators would find themselves unable to repair their organs through pills and meditation.

At that time, they would need carefully nurtured organs to replace those they lost. Therefore, Organ Trading was one of the most lucrative businesses, but at the same time, the most brutal. After all, unless faced with an abyme of desperation, no one would willingly surrender their organs.

For that reason, many feeble but state-protected individuals found themselves under the knives of those traders. The government would naturally not allow its authority to become undermined by one trade. And not only increased the taxes on organ trading but also forced the traders to compile the sources of their product and the identities of their "donors."

Soon, many of the affluent but recalcitrant traders opted for underworld dealings, hence creating the Black Cloak Merchant trend.

When Astarte appeared in her spacious black robe and cloak that made her features impossible to discern, those young masters immediately assumed her to belong to one of those groups and recoiled in fright.

Hearing this, Astarte was startled. How could underworld dealers possibly parade themselves in broad daylight? Wasn't that asking for the authorities to lower their axes on their neck? What did those good for nothing buffoons eat that their brains worked in such odd manners?

Of course, her stupor lasted only for the fraction of a second, and while the prince consort kissed her boot from below, she swept those buffoons with her hazel eyes.

"The Wandering Dream Inn is currently reserved. Get lost."

She declared before kicking the prince consort's side and sending him flying toward his peers with a resounding scream.

"AAAAAAH!"

*BAM*

Thinking that they were now dealing with notorious organ traders, the buffoons were more prudent. In the Barbarian Continent where the right of the biggest fist reigned supreme, the likes of them were not valued. However, they still possessed strong clans and decent cultivation which allowed them to hover around the prince consort.

But if anyone asked them to lay down their lives for him, they would, of course, disdainfully snort. And as they planned to rush back to their clans to relay the events, the prince consort rose from the ground and aimed a wobbling index at Astarte.

"Bold! Do you know who I am? Do you think that just because of your underworld tycoon status you can deter me?! Let me tell you, I'm Xabur Dire, princess Helbin's consort! The number one prince consort of the Northern Khanate!"

Astarte was shocked speechless, and her mouth widened in an "O" shape. When did she become an underworld tycoon? How could a normally constituted individual possibly form such a line of reasoning?

Did underworld tycoons also reserve inns at noon? Baffled by those idiots, she resolved to further investigate the current trends of the underworld. Perhaps, she really was in the wrong!

And seeing her not know what to say, Xabur believed his identity scared her out of her wits and confidently pursued.

"What? Scared now? Alas, it's far too late! Even if you beseech me to spare your life, I will never let you off! How dare you step on my esteemed face? Tired of living? Impudence! I will slaughter your entire family, slaughter your nine generations! Terrified? Too bad, that's just the beginning because I will also slaughter your future generations! Yes, even the ones that have yet to app-"

*BAM*

Before Xabur's tirade could reach its grand finale, Astarte flicked her hand, releasing a silent pressure that slammed into his pompous face, and making him shoot across the sky to crash in an unknown, faraway location.

The remaining buffoons were scared witless and quickly bowed in submission.

"Benefactor, we have nothing to do with that man. In fact, he captured our relatives and forced us to entertain him through all kinds of blackmailing. It's only for the sake of our loved ones that we stood beside him. Please understand our plight."

They "explained" while repeatedly bowing toward Astarte.

"You are our benefactor, our grand savior, in the future we will definitely repay your kindness. But for now, we must take our leaves."

With that said, they heaved deep sighs then turned heels, secretly praising one another for being quick-witted while swaggering away.

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Astarte could no longer restrain herself and instantly fired five kicks!

*BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM*

"AAAAAAAAARGH!"

Like meteors, the five good-for-nothing buffoons raced across the sky, as if trying to outdo one another, before crashing in the distance.

With a sweep of her sleeve, Astarte turned heels, rushing back into the Wandering Dream Inn where Konrad's lunch with Qehreman came to an end.

"Master, the troublemakers have been taken care of."

She announced while bowing toward Konrad. He wasn't about to pay this matter more attention, but then, he saw the confused look on her face, a look that forced him to arch his eyebrows.

"Any unexpected occurrence? Why do you seem so puzzled?"

He asked in a concerned tone. But Zamira and Else, who'd heard the entirety of the commotion due to the acute hearing Konrad no longer possessed, shook their heads and sighed.

"Master, do I really look like an organ trader?"

The question took Konrad aback, and he blinked in disbelief.

"Of course not, my Astarte is a country toppling beauty able to launch one-thousand ships. Even cloaked as you are, you overflow with grace and elegance. Who dares compare you to an organ trader?"

Konrad directly replied, his words causing Qehreman to disdainfully snort.

Wasn't this a tad bit excessive?

In the meantime, Else tilted her head to the left while her sky-blue eyes remained locked on Konrad. If her thoughts were a mystery, her eyes seemed to be screaming, "oh really?"

"I thought so too. Master, Tel'Hatra's juniors seem afflicted with a peculiar disease. In the future, we will have to tread carefully. Perhaps it's contagious. With your current condition, we can't afford to take chances."

Astarte declared in a grave tone heightened Konrad's interest in what she faced outside. But ultimately, he didn't pursue it and shifted his attention back onto Qehreman.

"Brother, it's time to save your mom."

…

Meanwhile, Verena and Yvonne stood trapped within legions of demonic beasts of various ranks, but their eyes looked beyond the beasts to lock on a fearsome, bare-chested man of almost three meters who comfortably sat within a leaf throne.