Chapter 291: The Chase

The beggar, with his large belly, ran surprisingly fast. The waiter chased him to the door, stool in hand, cursing as the beggar disappeared into the distance.

After a moment, the waiter put down the stool and walked over to Helag, bowing apologetically. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. I wasn’t paying attention, and one of those lowlifes slipped in. I hope it didn’t ruin your mood.”

“It’s fine. I was just about to leave anyway,” Helag said, placing his empty glass on the table and standing up to go.

The wooden sculpture the beggar had left on the table was already gone—Helag had discreetly pocketed it.

From the sculpture, Helag had sensed a faint but unmistakable aura of the Abyss Plane. It wasn’t strong, but the presence of the Abyssal energy was clear.

The sculpture also seemed to have a strange allure, drawing people’s attention to it.

However, this had no effect on Helag, who could easily ignore it.

He guessed that the sculpture was a tool used by Abyssal cultists to communicate with the dark gods of the Abyss Plane.

If an ordinary person came into contact with such a sculpture, they would likely be influenced and eventually become an Abyssal cultist.

Helag hadn’t immediately captured the beggar.

The beggar was just an ordinary person, and even if Helag had caught him, it wouldn’t have been worth much in terms of contribution points.

Instead, Helag planned to follow the trail and see who was behind the beggar.

If he could track down someone important, it would be a huge gain.

Helag hadn’t sensed any Abyssal energy from the beggar, so he was likely just a pawn. The real mastermind was still behind the scenes.

Helag casually walked out of the tavern, his Deep Blue environment detection covering a range of over a thousand meters, allowing him to keep track of the fleeing beggar.

From the beggar’s appearance and the way he moved, it was clear he wasn’t starving. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had the energy to run so fast.

Most beggars were pale and weak, barely able to move.

But this beggar had a healthy complexion and was running at full speed.

His large belly suggested he had some sort of illness, but he was clearly well-fed.

For a beggar to consistently have enough to eat, there had to be a stable source of food behind him.

Helag strolled down the street at a leisurely pace, looking like he was just out for a walk, but all the while keeping an eye on the beggar two streets away.

At this distance, no one would suspect that Helag was tailing the beggar.

After running for a while, the beggar glanced back and, seeing no one following him, slowed down to catch his breath.

He still had five more wooden sculptures in his pocket, which he needed to distribute over the next few days.

That was his task, and he wouldn’t get fed unless he completed it.

The beggar didn’t know what the sculptures were for, but he knew they weren’t anything good. Otherwise, the person who gave them to him wouldn’t have been so secretive.

He was also instructed to be selective about who he gave the sculptures to—people who seemed down on their luck or desperate for something.

When the beggar had seen Helag sitting alone in the tavern early in the morning, he figured Helag was probably going through a rough patch, so he gave him one of the sculptures.

After leaving Wutong Street, the beggar continued wandering, looking for suitable targets. When he found someone who fit the profile, he would slip them a sculpture.

On a bench by the street, a well-dressed middle-aged man sat with a troubled expression, sighing repeatedly.

The beggar observed him for a moment before walking over and handing him a sculpture, then quickly turning to leave.

The middle-aged man looked at the sculpture in his hand, confused, as he watched the beggar walk away. He had no idea why the beggar had given him a wooden sculpture.

After handing over the sculpture, the beggar picked up his pace and moved to a different street.

The middle-aged man glanced down at the sculpture, thinking about tossing it aside, but something about it seemed strange. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it made him hesitate.

In the end, he didn’t throw it away.

Once the beggar was out of sight, Helag silently passed by the middle-aged man.

A gust of wind blew, causing the man to squint.

When he opened his eyes again, the sculpture was gone.

He looked around, puzzled, but saw no one nearby.

The sculpture had simply vanished.

The man thought about it for a moment but couldn’t figure it out, so he decided to let it go.

Not far away, Helag glanced at the sculpture in his hand before slipping it into his spatial ring.

He had to take the sculpture back. If the middle-aged man had kept it, he would likely have become an Abyssal cultist.

While Helag could have used this method to “cultivate” Abyssal cultists and then “harvest” them later for contribution points, he didn’t want to earn points that way.

After retrieving the sculpture, Helag continued following the beggar from a distance.

Just like before, every time the beggar handed out a sculpture, Helag would silently take it back afterward.

These people were all ordinary citizens, completely unaware of Helag’s actions. They would only notice that the sculpture had mysteriously disappeared.

By the time the sun began to set, the beggar had distributed all five sculptures, and all of them had ended up in Helag’s hands.

The beggar had no idea that a wizard had been watching him the entire time.

Helag looked at the six sculptures in his spatial ring and realized that this was likely just a small portion of what had already been distributed. Many more had probably already fallen into the hands of various people.

Those people were all potential Abyssal cultists, and tracking them down would be a nightmare.

The beggar had been moving around constantly, and the people who had received the sculptures were likely scattered all over the place. There was no way to trace them all.

Helag continued following the beggar, determined to find out who had given him the sculptures.

This wasn’t the first time the beggar had distributed sculptures. His movements were too practiced—he was clearly an old hand at this.

When the beggar stopped handing out sculptures, Helag knew he had run out.

That meant the beggar would need to go get more sculptures before he could continue.

All Helag had to do was keep following him and find out where the sculptures were coming from.

As the sun set, the beggar arrived at a residential area for commoners. He looked around to make sure no one was following him.

Helag, sitting two streets away on a bench, casually fed some pigeons, blending into the background.

From that distance, no one would suspect that Helag was keeping an eye on the residential area.

After confirming that no one was tailing him, the beggar approached a small house and knocked on the door.

The door opened slightly, revealing the side of a young man’s face. He looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old.

“Did you hand out all the sculptures?” the young man asked.

The beggar smiled obsequiously. “Just like before, they’re all handed out.”

“No one noticed anything, right?” the young man asked again.