<h4>Chapter 519: You May Call Me Ghindaio</h4>


    Nieusel was still patrolling the streets of Sporeggar Mill at 7:30 p.m.


    There was no unified routine based on sunrise and sunset in the underground world, where there was no real and constant sun.


    The factories here never stopped. The workers not only worked in three shifts but also the working hours of each factory were not specific. Based on this lifestyle and work schedule, the shops on the street would have different opening hours.


    This was also why people above ground were not suitable for living underground for a long time.


    Once a person got used to this “sleep as long as you want” lifestyle, the person would gradually bezy.


    At the same time, they could not have free working hours like the underground folks.


    Even though they were only moving vertically up and down, they still felt like they had crossed the time zone when they returned to the surface. It was as if they were going from the Noah Kingdom to the Papal Kingdom. It even gave the impression of jetg.


    For Nieusel, his job was flexible.


    He was the only [Overseer] in Sporeggar Mill.


    The Digger Council of the local city provided the wages for employing Overseers, and the Overseers were only responsible for the Diggers in their city.


    At the same time, Sporeggar Mill was a smaller city.


    Thus, this small city only had one Digger in total.


    That person was Nieusel himself as well.


    In other words, Nieusel worked for himself, paid himself, and was responsible for himself. Even if he always cked, no one would care about it, let alone bother him.


    Even if he worked diligently every day, he would not get a penny.


    However, Nieusel still patrolled the streets every day.


    It was not because he was bored just sitting around.


    Deep down in his heart, he wanted to use his strength and his way to protect the city.


    He did not establish this city, let alone this was not his birthce.


    The reason for his hard work could only be attributed to Nefertari’s presence at this ce.


    This small city had only one Wise and one Digger. No specialty products existed, and this ce did not fall on any major trade route. Worse still, the city above this ce was just a small town.


    Sporeggar Mill was undoubtedly one of the smallest cities in the resource-rich and vast underground world.


    If Nieusel and Nefertari moved again, it would be difficult to find an edge city with no person in charge and only needed two people to manage it.


    For Nieusel, Sporeggar Mill was closer to his “home” where he, Nefertari, and enthusiastic “neighbors” resided.


    There were hardly any young people here.


    Those who came to Sporeggar Mill were primarily elderly.


    That was also how the duo recognized Lin Yiyi’s group as outsiders at first sight.


    Usually, there were not so many young people in Sporeggar Mill.


    Except for him and Nefertari, the other residents were closely knitted neighbors nearby. After living for so many years, the residents had roughly recognized each other’s faces.


    Usually, when Nieusel walked on the street, he was warmly greeted by grandparents and asionally given presents and snacks.


    Of course, they were not out here to tter the city’s “sole enforcer.”


    Nieusel was usually a little off-key,zy, and did not like to think, given his character. However, he would respond if someone asked him with despair and hope.


    He was not short of money, nor was he famous. Helping others was simply an act he wanted to do.


    After living for so many years, Nieusel had gradually be the “virtuous king” of the city.


    “The Wise” of the city seldomly emerged, except for things his intellect could not aplish. However, the Sporeggar Mill’s residents gave Nefertari the same amiable smile just because they learned that “Mr. Nieusel was after thedy.”


    The kindness was shown to whoever was involved and connected to Nieusel.


    This was perhaps the best acknowledgment of a “kind person”, even though Nieusel never felt like he was a kind person.


    “It’s alright now, Granny Marchi.” Nieusel squatted on the ground and straightened out the tangled wires on the mechanical crutch, “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just that the wires are tangled.


    “But the wires are damaged. Please let your son take it for reparationter. It may not be so simple to fix next time.”


    “Thank you, youngster.” The white-haired elderly smiled at Nieusel.


    She had no legs but no prosthetics, either.


    Under the two arms of Elderly Marchi, there were twoplex crutches with many gear structures. She gripped the middle bar of the crutch tightly, lifted it slightly, and the axle began to rotate slowly.


    Like a person walking, the mechanical walking cane on each side had two legs alternately moving forward.


    There was no question that this was an incredibly expensive custom-made machinery. Only the Wise of the underground city couldplete such a design.


    Compared with the fiery new invention of the “automatic wheelchair”, it was not only hard to maintain but also ufortable to use.


    However, this was the option when there was no other choice.


    Nieusel knew it without asking that it was a constraint from a curse.


    Old Marchi’s fingers were ornamented with rings. Two were made of silver, ten were made of bronze with different colors, and two rings decorated her index finger.


    This represented the lives of at least a dozen transcenders.


    Marchi was the first transcender resident of this underground city.


    There was no doubt that “Marchi” must be a fake name, and even the face could be fake. A Silver Rank Hunter, who chose to enter the underground city, must be a wanted criminal.


    Her exceptionally burly “son” might be a disciple or an aplice, or her son might be her father instead. Everything was possible.


    But that was the business left in the above-ground world.


    Nieusel could not care less about it.


    She was just a resident in the underground world who needed to be protected.


    Nieusel smiled gently and waved his hand at the back of the leaving Elderly Marchi.


    He turned around and unexpectedly saw two strangersing along the crowd.


    Nieusel narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at the passers-by.


    There was a young girl who walked ahead and looked around curiously.


    She had shoulder-length gray hair, gray dog ??ears hanging on the head, and a big fluffy gray tail behind it. Undoubtedly, she was a werewolf entering the underground world for the first time.


    Nieusel somewhat sympathized with the werewolves being persecuted in the Austere-Winter Dukedom. However, the premise was that they did note to Sporeggar Mill to stir up trouble.


    His gaze focused on the wolf girl’s lower abdomen.


    After confirming that she was not pregnant, Nieusel rxed a little and looked behind the werewolf girl.


    Then, he met eyes with the middle-aged man with ck hair and ck eyes.


    He smiled and looked over.


    Your Excellency Nieusel.


    The middle-aged man’s lips moved slightly, silently speaking Nieusel’s name.


    Thanks to a childhood game of “lip-sync” that Nefertari used to y, Nieusel was able to recognize the lip shape of his name.


    Are you calling me? Nieusel was slightly wary.


    His gaze fell naturally, and he caught sight of a silver-white ring.


    Silver Rank?


    The middle-aged man was different from the werewolf, who was naive and seemingly foolish. Just standing there, this middle-aged man gave off intense pressure.


    He is a dangerous man and probably a big shot too.


    Nieusel’s bestial instincts told him so.


    He had always trusted his instincts.


    However, when Nieusel was still hesitating about approaching and expressing his greetings, the middle-aged man turned around first and walked toward him.


    This is bad. I can’t avoid getting into contact.


    As the footsteps approached, Nieusel felt a chill down his spine. Looking at that friendly and gentle smile, he could not help but feel goosebumps and involuntarily stepped back.


    “Thanks for looking after my apprentices.” The middle-aged man wore a smile.


    He reached out his right hand toward Nieusel. The werewolf girl who was following him looked over nkly and stopped.


    For some reason, Nieusel became even more nervous.


    He wiped his hand on his pants before epting the handshake cautiously, “Hi, I’m Nieusel. But, may I ask who you are?”


    The middle-aged man did not answer.


    He raised the right hand he recently shook hands with, raised his index finger and middle finger, and pointed to his eyes.


    “You may call me Ghindaio.” The middle-aged man had a charming, deep, and gentle voice, “I appreciate your care for my three apprentices.”


    —Indeed, it’s the Secret Eye!


    Nieusel reacted immediately.


    Luckily, he is not an enemy!


    He immediately breathed a sigh of relief.


    The source of that immense oppression finally had an answer.


    But then he had doubts again.


    Is the Secret Eye’s leader just Silver Rank?


    But where did that sense of dangere from?


    No Silver Rank Transcender had imposed such a strong sense of oppression on Nieusel!


    Nieusel relied on his keen instincts to return alive from the depths of the underworld and be a Digger.


    He trusted his instincts as much as he trusted Nefertari.


    “You are…” Nieusel was about to speak when he was interrupted.


    “—Shh.” Ghindaio held his right index finger to his lips.


    He retained that brilliant smile but said softly, “It’s not convenient to talk here.


    “Let’s go to Yiyi and the rest.”


    “Alright, sir.”


    Nieusel could not help himself and called out sir.


    He could not help but feel a little inexplicable.


    This is only the first time we have met.


    But why does it give me a feeling that I’m his subordinate?


    Nieusel was surging with the unknown fear and the novelty of facing the higher-ups of a powerful and ancient organization, along with the joy of finally ushering in the rescue of Sporeggar Mill.


    His heart beat like a drum.