The goose sprang into action.
The goose zoomed straight into the greedy old man, like an arrow let loose from a master archer's bow.
The egg laid there, like some precious treasure to be protected. Only thing is, it's already cracking, and there's no one protecting it.
In the blink of an eye, Remus reappeared behind the goose, leaving behind a wall the goose then slammed into.
'Shit!' The curse in the mind of the goose came out as a squawk, as he embedded himself to the wall of sticky earth.
"Hehe… let's see what you're hiding, you gold egg!" The avarice in the face of Remus showed. He's now sure that the goose is indeed a Super, and the egg it laid, well he can only assume...
He crushed it easily with one hand. Then like a madman, he slurped the entirety of the raw yolk and white that came out.
"Damn I really just love raw eggs." No wonder his grandson reeks of rotten eggs…
The fuck is this? I thought there's something special in this egg!
"The fuck is this? I thought there's something special in this egg!"
Hey, now, why are you copying what I said!
The goose embedded on the wall can't even tell what's on it's mind. It can only flap its wings in fury.
Remus suddenly gasped for air, as if he's choking. The next moment, he spat out a small sphere the size of a marble.
Of course he also spat out his porridge…
He inspected this small spherical object. He looked at it closely, he smelled it, and afterward he literally slammed it to the ground.
"Fuck is that how bad my juices smell?" Disregarding his inconsequential comment, an unexpected thing happened with the marble-sized sphere.
A smokescreen appeared as it exploded soundlessly!
"Would be neat if at least a boatload of money came out of it." This shameless old bat even had the gall to put forward his selfish request.
'Damn you! Go die you turd! Those are supposed to be my money!'
Wait… eh? Are you alright, duck?
The smokescreen subsided and a small coffin appeared on the same spot.
Being the trailblazer and Free ex-boss he is, Remus opened the coffin, and his jaws dropped.
"It's actually freakin' money! What the! The duck literally pooped a coffin and money!" His eyes glittered as he turned to look greedily towards the goose stuck in his earth wall. "Hmmm… but I doubt that it's just money and coffins you can eject from those eggs."
You didn't even bat an eye at how a coffin is also there?
Remus licked his lips at the prospect of this, with his aura finally matching with the legendary former boss of the Free. The surging scent of scorched earth filled the grassy lot.
He doesn't look like he cares about remaining hidden anymore, judging by his actions. Oh well, he's hella strong anyway.
He put away the coffin and the load of money in it in his storage ring— which kind of looks like it was made of parched soil— before walking slowly to the struggling goose.
"Duck, I am Remus Irvin. I know you can understand what I'm saying, judging by your past actions. I'm not killing you, nor leaving you here to dry." He collapsed the wall, and contained the goose with his massive hands before continuing. "I'm here for a proposition."
The goose finally felt fear of the man in front of him.
'I don't want to end up as a grilled duck!'
"Honk! Honk! Honk!" Irritating honks are just about the only resistance this duck can offer.
***
The old man reentered the cafeteria with a spring in his step, and a smug grin that is basically a pretty good invitation for a beatdown.
Though it's also a question of which idiot would try his luck against a bald man…
The grandson still is in full glutton mode, anyone can tell with the huge stack of bowls beside him.
"Oy, oy, oy! Stop eating now! Look at how many you've eaten! That's twenty-two— wait, twenty-three bowls! You're not even gonna pay!"
"What are you saying?" The young glutton squinted at the stack beside him, and tried to count. "One… two… three… four… fife… sigs… seven… ate… nine… tent…"
Huh? Am I hearing it correctly?
"Uhh… shit…" He's sweating, not because of the heat of all the bowls of porridge he ate, but because of his brain short-circuiting due to the numbers…
The old man is laughing at the side, and I can hear some mocking honks as well.
"Uhh… fine! Fuck you numbers! One… two… three… four… fife…"
He actually restarted it… the bastard…
The old bat can't take it anymore. The duck goose can't take it anymore. Of course, the kid really can't take it anymore but his childish ego is stopping him from admitting that he can't count past ten.
No shit! He can only count six numbers properly!
"Why are you even forcing yourself to count you dimwit!" Remus' ears are red from fury.
"Yup, why are you counting, you dumb kid?"
The grandpa, the grandson, and the author's brows knitted. The three's eyes darted left and right, thinking which idiot was talking.
"Look down you turds. Give me some porridge too, I'm tired laying those dumb eggs."
Huuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh?
You… duck can talk? What the hell's happening here!
Romulus dropped his spoon in disbelief. He had forgotten his counting blunder.
Remus felt the urge to clap the duck with a hail of rocks. This is beyond his expectations. He knew the duck understood what he was saying before, but it didn't cross his mind that it could actually talk.
"What? First time hearing a talking duck? Get a move on, fools!" The duck's scathing words prompted Romulus to leave his seat and rub some gooey nasal mucus into the bird's feathers.
Going back to his seat, Romulus talked trash. "Now, now, in this day and age, even if you never know whoever has powers, a bloody duck would still be my last choice to have one! Especially the power of human language! You egg laying idiot shouldn't even have human speech!"
"Hmph! You're just a brat, what would you know?"
"You..."
Remus continued eating while seemingly enjoying his snotty glutton grandson engaged in a dumb verbal war with a talking duck that pooped money.
Ah… life.