Chapter 169: Chapter 109: Li Wei’s Coming-of-Age Gift

[You have received a quest: Explore the Goblin Kingdom and speak with its inhabitants.]

[Quest Reward: +0.1 Free Attribute Points]

’So, in the system’s eyes, this counts as a high-level dungeon?’ Li Wei thought.

Just as he was pondering, a roar suddenly echoed from the darkness ahead. A gaunt, twitching figure burst out from a dark corner, lunging straight for Don Quixote.

Li Wei’s eyes narrowed. He was about to step forward and intervene when he realized Don Quixote had already reacted.

"Ghoul! Begone!"

Don Quixote sidestepped, then slammed his iron-gauntleted fist into the attacker’s chin, sending the man sprawling to the side.

"Hah..." Don Quixote said with his eyes closed, striking the pose of a master. "These cursed creatures are growing more numerous."

Just then, a figure rushed out from behind a nearby shack, holding a flashlight and an iron pipe, and looked in their direction.

He had just witnessed the armored Don Quixote knock the attacker to the ground with a single punch.

Seeing Don Quixote’s armor, he scratched his head with some difficulty and muttered, "Am I tripping? What the hell is going on?"

Then he looked at Li Wei, who stood behind Don Quixote, neatly dressed and handsome, and immediately understood they were outsiders.

He lowered the iron pipe and walked over with the flashlight.

As he passed the man on the ground, he first prodded him with the toe of his shoe, then shone the flashlight on him for a closer look before sighing in relief.

"That’s Jimmy," he explained. "His addiction’s been acting up lately. I hear drugs are hard to come by these days, so a lot of people are selling shoddy stuff mixed with fentanyl and animal tranquilizers. It’s fried Jimmy’s brain."

After he finished, he glanced curiously at Don Quixote, then looked at Li Wei. "You guys are... here to film a documentary?"

"You are welcome, civilian!" Don Quixote said proudly. "Cleansing the undead is a Knight’s duty."

The man froze for a moment, clearly unable to follow Don Quixote’s train of thought. But he was smart enough not to argue, instead nodding in agreement.

Li Wei also got a clear look at his face. Though smudged with dirt, it had sharp, well-defined features. He looked to be in his forties and was wearing a heavily worn, army-green overcoat buttoned tightly at the neck. Even the collar of the grimy shirt underneath had been carefully folded flat.

This would be perfectly normal on the surface, but down in this sewer reeking of piss and crawling with rats, it was a rare sight to see someone maintain such a sense of dignity.

Li Wei stepped forward and explained, "This is my uncle. Um... I’m just out with him for an evening stroll. He sometimes fantasizes about being a Knight."

The man nodded in understanding, looking at Li Wei and Don Quixote with a sympathetic expression. "I get it. I’ve been hauled off to a mental hospital before myself."

Seeing the man’s pitying gaze, Li Wei felt a little annoyed and stressed, "He’s not mentally ill."

"Neither am I," the man shrugged. "But the cops don’t care if you’re mentally ill or not when they’re making an arrest."

"Anyway," he said, "got a smoke? I don’t want money. A pack of cigarettes gets you a 30-minute interview."

"No," Li Wei shook his head. "I don’t smoke."

The man sighed and waved them over. "Forget it. Come on, this interview’s on the house. Follow me."

The man turned and led the two deeper into the tunnel.

Even without any cigarettes, he seemed eager to talk, perhaps because it had been a long time since he’d had a proper conversation. Once he started, he couldn’t stop.

Li Wei noticed that the shacks here weren’t covered in trash as he’d expected. Instead, they were like little cubes constructed from plywood, tarps, and discarded billboards. He could even see an electrical wire strung overhead every so often, connected to a dim lightbulb.

"Pretty amazing, isn’t it? That there’s even electricity in the tunnels," the man said, pointing to the spiderweb-like wires overhead. "After all, this place is part of New York’s power grid. Though, we never pay for it, of course."

"We call this the ’kindling,’" he said, pointing to a cable extending from a crack in the concrete. "There was no power when I first got here. But later, an electrician tapped into a maintenance box for the subway lines up above and ran a line down. That’s how we get power here now and then. It’s not always stable, but hey, it’s better than nothing."

"How long have you lived here?" Li Wei couldn’t help but ask. "Five years? Ten?"

"I don’t remember exactly," the man shrugged. "I’ve been living here ever since Lehman Brothers collapsed."

"Lehman Brothers collapsed more than a decade ago," Li Wei said, glancing back at Don Quixote, who was following behind. "You’ve been here for over ten years."

"Oh." The man didn’t seem to care about the topic. He arrived at a space created out of a natural recess in the tunnel wall, a patterned bedsheet hanging over the entrance as a curtain.

The man lifted the curtain and gestured for them to enter.

Li Wei made sure his Silver Body was active before ducking inside.

The space inside wasn’t large, but Li Wei was surprised by what he saw.

The trash-strewn scene he had imagined was nowhere to be found. The floor was layered with several thick sheets of cardboard, covered by an old rug that had been salvaged from somewhere.