Legend of Dragon Son-in-law

Chapter 1612: Chapter 1612: Visit

"Master Whitaker, you said... the priest has a solution?"

Although Horre Jackson isn’t very capable, he’s quite clever.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t possibly have the chairman position at the Funeral Association.

At the Northern Border, indigenous people place great importance on resting in peace.

And here, where it’s icy and cold, burial is extremely difficult.

The Funeral Alliance seized the opportunity to expand business here, and after hundreds of years of operation, has become the biggest money-making enterprise at the Northern Border.

Being the chairman of the Funeral Association is an especially good job!

Money flows like water!

Inexhaustible and endless.

Horre Jackson’s ability to hold this position says a lot.

Now, he cleverly feigned misery, inviting the funeral procession people to come over.

Those rivals are likely in for bad luck.

With Whitaker Dog around, the whole town dons mourning.

"Little White, this house, quite a blaze!" As the group walked to the entrance of the Funeral Alliance, Whitaker Dog jumped out of the coffin, hands behind his back, taking in the dilapidated scene.

The towering building was burned to ruins.

Hundreds of years ago, there was no brick and concrete, all built from wood.

One fire reduced it to ashes.

Though the Funeral Alliance reinforced it with cement later, it’s all void under the infernal flames.

Suddenly, Whitaker Dog sniffed the air, closed his eyes, and asked, "What’s that smell? So fragrant?"

"Master Whitaker, I dug up Caelum Danvers’ ancestors and roasted them on the fire of these ruins!" Horre Jackson got angry at the mention of Caelum Danvers, and since those people were Caelum’s relatives, he outright dug up Caelum’s ancestral graves!

"Smells good." Whitaker Dog followed the scent to the ruins, seeing many charred bodies on them.

The Northern Border keeps corpses well-preserved due to the ice.

Whitaker Dog reached out, pulling a piece of meat, munching on it.

"Delicious!"

Apparently, such a twisted act meant nothing to him.

The Funeral Alliance members turned away, unable to hold back their nausea.

But those who came with Whitaker Dog remained unperturbed.

As if they were used to it.

"M-Master Whitaker, if you want meat, we have... ugh!" Horre Jackson didn’t finish his sentence, turning away, vomiting vigorously.

He vomited until there was nothing left in his stomach, nearly retching out his guts.

"We have wine and meat here; no need for this..." Horre Jackson gasped after finishing his sentence.

His face was ghostly pale!

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

"I’m full!"

Whitaker Dog wiped his mouth, burping contentedly, "Tomorrow morning, I’ll check out the Martial Arts Association. This time the priest ordered me to wipe out the roots!"

"Why?" Horre Jackson was startled upon hearing this.

Usually, such incidents involved punishing the two arsonists and humiliating Vinnie Somerset a bit, maybe demanding some money, and that would be it.

This root-clearing order was rare.

"It’s the priest’s command; I don’t know why." Whitaker Dog looked up at the small building in front of him, "Where am I staying tonight?"

"You’re staying in my office building." Horre Jackson gestured, and two Funeral Association members immediately approached. "Go, lead Master Whitaker upstairs! If there’s any negligence, you’ll be the ones roasted tomorrow!"

"Understood!"

Remembering the earlier scene, the two Funeral Association members turned green instantly.

"Little White, where are you going?" Whitaker Dog picked his teeth, scaring Horre Jackson, "N-Nothing..."

"Alright, get me some wine tonight. Master Dog likes nothing more than drinking." Whitaker Dog nodded, leading his men toward the small building.

Horre Jackson wasn’t afraid of much, except being eaten himself.

With Whitaker Dog’s reputation, his assistance was naturally welcomed by Horre Jackson.

But to start with something so outrageous, he simply couldn’t accept it!

Indeed, there’s not a single normal person in the funeral procession!

Thinking about it, he sighed, heading to town to buy wine alone.

"Think a fight will break out?"

At the entrance of Town Cemetery, Julius Reed carried a jug of wine, standing with Elaenor Wood.

"Won’t happen. I’m a cultured person and don’t like to fight." Julius Reed replied to Elaenor Wood before striding inside.

"Nowadays, don’t know how many are trailing behind." Elaenor Wood was reluctant to come, aware that the whole town watched their every move.

The feeling was quite uncomfortable.

"You have to learn to enjoy! Enjoy the feeling of being in the spotlight!" Julius Reed patted Elaenor Wood, chuckling, "Finding Anna Harris and taking that position is way tougher than this."

Elaenor Wood remained silent, being smart enough to have an inkling of the situation.

But without confirmation, he chose to keep quiet.

"Who goes there!"

The moment they entered the courtyard, a Funeral Association member emerged, haughtily asking, "Did someone die in your family? The association’s busy today, come back tomorrow!"

"Is it a must for someone to die to come to the association?" Julius Reed walked over with a broad smile, speaking out, "Heard there’s a big shot here, take me to meet him."

With Zain Ellsworth involved, Julius Reed and Elaenor Wood had their intel.

Whitaker Dog’s group had just entered Town’s territory, and they received notification.

Now, they’re here in person to pay respects.

"You... it’s you?" The Funeral Association member sank to the ground, scared, and scrambled away toward the small building.

"Look, they’re inside." Julius Reed gestured with his mouth, carrying the wine, following the association member.

When the two arrived downstairs, Whitaker Dog, having been informed, stood proudly at the door, hands behind.

"You two, set fire to our Funeral Association’s building?" Whitaker Dog pointed at the ruined building, voice dripping with disdain, "Just the two of you? If you ask me, the town’s Chairman Horre Jackson aside from hoarding money, can’t even stand straight?"

The reputable Funeral Association had several skilled Martial Artists.

Yet, two youngsters nearly razed it to the ground with a fire?

Almost left without a home.

A bunch of useless people!

"Brought a good jug of wine, fancy a drink?" Julius Reed lifted the jug, pointing inside the building, "It’s windy outside; may I come in?"

"No!" Whitaker Dog snorted, sizing up the wine jug, "Just perfect, with your meat, for drinking! Judging by your tender skin, you surely aren’t anything good!"

Wham!

No sooner said than done, Whitaker Dog threw a punch!

Bam!

Julius Reed countered with a punch!

"Now, can I come in?"

After the punch, Whitaker Dog took a step back.

"Please!"

After a brief hesitation, Whitaker Dog stepped aside, clearing a path.

"Master Whitaker, these are our Funeral Association’s enemies, you..."

Smack! noveldrama

Whitaker Dog swung a slap, sending the Funeral Association member flying. "Does old me need your teaching?"

No one dared speak.

Funeral Association members instinctively leaned back, buried their heads.

"This building smells of dead bodies." Julius Reed shook his head, covered his nose, ascending to the second floor.