Chapter 331 Angel Dream Did Not Bring Money

Chapter 331 Angel's Dream·No Money

"...Yes, that's the identity..."

"...Whatever you want, Conrad..."

The maids came to him again, this time there were two of them. Whether this was a dream or another world, Sanguinius knew them both - after a war with mutants, the tribal elders took in two orphans for him.

Sanguinius hoped that in this dream, he still won every mutant battle.

They exchanged a worried look and then opened the box. "We know you don't like to wear such thick clothes, but all the other protective suits were bitten through by bats in the storage room, Lord Sanguinius."

Inside the box lay something that was very unfamiliar to Sanguinius. It's not that he had never seen protective suits, but this thick and tight, multi-layered, especially emphasizing the breathing mask set, and even a small incense burner hanging around the waist. The gray-yellow clothing made Sanguinius laugh.

He squeezed into the slightly bulky suit and felt the heavy shoulder straps with oxygen tubes pressing on his shoulders. The last time he felt the same pressure was when his wings grew slightly faster than his main body.

"Lord Sanguinius, where are you going today?" the maid asked curiously, "To the Pureblood Conference?"

"No, I went to the meeting yesterday," Sanguinius shook his head in his helmet, smiling as usual, and then he realized that the maid couldn't see his face, so he moved his facial muscles and made a few expressions that he shouldn't normally show.

"Then are you going to the temple?"

"No," Sanguinius shook his head more violently, and he had to straighten his helmet to ensure the closure again.

"Then..." The maid was a little confused, "Market? Recently, a group of new merchants came here to do business. It is said that there are many strange craftsmen, such as a leather worker with strange hobbies. He must add a lot of seams to the clothes he sewed... He is scary, and we dare not collect taxes from him."

"I understand," Sanguinius laughed, "That guy!"

Sanguinius stepped out of the door, and the pain caused by radiation disappeared. He breathed a sigh of relief and bravely walked out of the door wearing a heavy protective suit.

Ten minutes later, Sanguinius hid under the shed of other people's houses, sat on the ground against the wall, opened his helmet slightly, and fanned the air under his helmet.

He bet that the temperature inside his protective suit was definitely far more than 40 degrees Celsius. The extremely precious water resources in Baal were oozing out of Sanguinius in the form of sweat.

In some areas where water is extremely scarce, the tribes living there will not let go of any drop of recyclable water. They even rely on the remains of ancient technology to form the unfortunate custom of squeezing water from the bodies of the dead.

If the pure-blood tribes saw Sanguinius looking around and then secretly pouring the sweat accumulated in his gloves and boots onto the ground, they would probably rush up to argue with him fiercely - even if he was an archangel.

Well, Sanguinius said silently in his heart, it seems that this is the price of being a mortal.

The angel slowly moved forward, following the shadows of various buildings. He knew where the market was, but he had never thought that the market was so far away - under normal circumstances, he only needed to fly for dozens of seconds with a flap of wings. But if he relied on walking, passing through the winding streets and over the undulating terrain, it would be a completely different matter.

How did those water sellers rush to the market within half a Baal hour when the morning mist had just dissipated, grab the best position - often the entrance or center of the market, call on the children to help set up the carts and tables, line up a string of water cups, pour the water in the water bag one by one, and wait for the thirsty Baal to count the coins to complete the transaction?

This was a life that was familiar and unfamiliar to Sanguinius. It was not the mortal journey he imagined, but it did add to the richness of this journey. After sighing, Sanguinius was willing to accept it.

He approached a stall, hoping that he could show his friendliness through the protective suit through body language.

"I want to know how you sell water here." Sanguinius asked. "It's quite hot, is it cold water?"

"My filter here really has the function of keeping warm," said the middle-aged man selling water. Sanguinius also knew him. He knew many people among the civilians of Baal. "It is guaranteed to be cool. Lord Sanguinius, do you want to try it? The water source is groundwater in the desert. The process is a bit troublesome, but there is less radiation there."

"It sounds like an adventure. Have a cup." Sanguinius said, giving up thinking about how he was recognized. "How much do you make?"

"It depends on the weather and the flow of customers. It's not bad recently. There are a new group of traveling merchants in the market, and the number of customers has increased."

Sanguinius lifted his helmet, pushed aside his sweaty blond hair, and carefully picked up the cup and took a sip.

"I think you saved my life. This suit is too hot."

"Hey, it's better than being exposed to radiation. We can only wrap ourselves in cloth!" The water seller pulled back a section of his sleeve, briefly showing his damaged skin, and quickly covered it again. "How is the water?"

Sanguinius put down the cup and his helmet clicked shut. The water seller screwed the lid of the clay kettle on.

"Thank you," he said. "Where does the new peddler set up his stall here? In the middle of the market?"

"A little north of the middle, although the leather they sell looks weird, it's of good quality. You can try it."

"Okay, I'll go check it out. Goodbye, friend." Sanguinius waved goodbye gracefully, and before he turned around, the water seller grabbed the small incense burner on his waist.

He turned back in confusion. "What's wrong?"

The water seller raised one hand and spread it in front of Sanguinius.

"My lord," he said, "I'm sorry, this is not a business without capital, and there are relatives waiting for dinner at home, so please see... Can you pay? I'll give you a discount, minus 50%, just one iron coin, okay?"

Sanguinius was stunned on the spot. "Wait until my wings grow back, and I'll give you a feather?" He said awkwardly.

"Take it." Another person came out from behind Sanguinius and threw two iron coins to the water seller.

The man just approached, and a chill came over him instantly.

If it was placed in a dark abyss, it would be a sign of death, but this is the hot Baal.

Sanguinius took a step back, closer to the source of the cold, and exhaled comfortably in his helmet.

Curze was frightened by him and took another step back.

Sanguinius turned his head and stared at Conrad Curze, who was the same height as him in a tattered black, red and blue cloak, through his helmet. He tilted his head and said, "Are you selling furs here, Conrad?"

Curze sneered, "Otherwise, how can I pay your water bill, dear brother?"

"No, that's not what I want to say," the angel blinked, "I just want to ask, have you not paid your taxes yet?"