Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 387 Rules are meant to be broken (3K)

However, although

Audrey Hall was speechless for a moment. The boy's unique analysis left her stunned. Although she didn't understand what "paying respects to the mountain" meant, she knew a little about bandits, gangsters, and the like.

She wanted to offer some explanation, but after refocusing on the audience and thinking it over carefully, she realized that what Ron said actually made a lot of sense.

Attending social dances, choosing a political party to align with, and handing over a sum of money under a legitimate pretext—in essence, this is no different from the behavior of gangsters in the East District.

Both groups were just starting out, were introduced to each other, chose to rely on an internal gang, and offered bribes to a low-level gang leader.

It has to be said that this is quite ironic. The newspapers have exposed the various gangs in the East District many times, but no one in Backlund really sees the truth.

Beneath the elegant, respectable, and virtuous facade of the nobility lies such depravity and barbarity.

They use all sorts of terms to embellish the dignity of civilized people, but when it comes to interests, they are no different from those despicable barbarians, resorting to all sorts of despicable and vile means to suppress their opponents.

Audrey Hall fell silent, unable to laugh any longer.

As for whether the rioters blocking the steel mill's gate were lying, the "psychologist" could analyze it just by listening to their voices.

"Audrey, why aren't you smiling?"

There's nothing new under the eternal sun.

In other words, a leopard can't change its spots!

The blond boy's words were still as sharp as ever, and even when facing a beautiful noble lady, he remained as sweet and affectionate as ever.

Perhaps the assessment of the hidden deities was not wrong; with Ron's foul mouth, he'll never find a partner in this lifetime.

"Alright, Mr. Ron, you don't need to say anymore."

"Woof woof woof (******)"

You're an angel, even if you don't care about your own image, you should at least care about Mr. Fool's image...

Audrey Hall was both embarrassed and annoyed. She angrily grabbed the blond boy's chubby cheeks and rubbed them vigorously until the cute face turned bright red. Only then did she release her hands, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Uh, Mr. Ron, what are you planning to do?"

"I might be able to help you, don't worry, no 'protection money' is required!"

As the daughter of a member of the Kingdom's Upper House, and with the head of the "New Party" as her father, Audrey certainly has the ability to solve Ron's problems.

The noblewoman opened her arms wide, as if to embrace everything, as if to say, "Come into my arms, I'm rich and powerful."

Seeing this, Ron arrogantly raised his head, dismissing the rich woman's invitation with disdain.

Ron Sothos is not the kind of guy who lives off women!

"Audrey, I can handle this myself!" the blond boy replied arrogantly.

Solve it? Does solving it mean eliminating all the troublemakers outside?

Audrey Hall muttered to herself, then patiently explained:

"Mr. Ron, while your description is accurate, this is, after all, an unspoken rule that has been in place in Backlund for hundreds of years. I know you're not worried about these things, but the consequences will be extremely troublesome, far more troublesome than you can imagine..."

Upon hearing this, the blond boy's gaze pierced through the layers of obstacles and fell upon Amon, who was wearing brand-new worker's clothes and was lounging at the back of the factory's security team, watching the commotion.

"Rules are meant to be broken."

Ron glanced at the wishing lamp stuck to the Time Angel and muttered something under his breath with disdain.

what! ?

Ignoring the noble lady's surprised expression, the blond boy jumped off the carriage and walked towards the troublemakers.

"Daddy, Daddy, I want my daddy."

The first thing Ron heard was the child's shrill cry, a sound like a haunting spirit that lingered in the real world, so loud it made his head spin.

Hmph, looking for daddy? I, Ron Sothos, am the best at finding daddy!

With a disdainful snort to himself, the blond boy suddenly remembered the night he first met Dunn Smith, when the old captain told him the story of "The Little Tadpole Looking for Its Mother".

With his short legs, Ron walked forward and came to three well-maintained women who were under thirty years old.

"I own this steel company. You're saying this is your child?"

He spoke indifferently, which immediately attracted the attention of everyone present. The reporters who had been lying in ambush in the bushes excitedly raised their portable cameras, but they quickly realized that something was wrong.

This boy, who is less than 1.5 meters tall, is actually the boss behind this steel factory?!

"Who the hell arranged this? Couldn't they have been a little more professional? He's not even as tall as his kid."

In the crowd, someone muttered a weak complaint, and the reporters looked at each other, all stunned.

This morning, their boss told them to come to the vicinity of Honest Man Steel Company, saying that there would be big news today, and that they should hurry up and find out the cause and effect of the matter, and write an eye-catching factual report.

Faced with the leader's vague demands and his "supernatural" ability to predict the future at regular intervals, the reporters naturally understood what was going on.

No one would believe it if you said no one bribed anyone.

After all, this kind of thing was commonplace in Backlund. Every now and then, at the behest of their superiors, they would ruin the reputations of a group of gentlemen, watching them leave the metropolis in disgrace, never to have a chance to recover.

Click!

Just then, a white flash went off, accompanied by the click of a portable camera shutter, and one of the reporters took a clear photo of the scene.

"Mike, this isn't right. Anyone with a brain knows something's wrong here. Take a picture of it."

Joseph, a reporter for The Plain Dealer, stared in astonishment at Mike Joseph, who had a very good reputation among journalists, his words filled with surprise and disbelief.

Well, kid, are you starting to become more realistic, even with your thick eyebrows and big eyes?

Daily Observer reporter Mike Joseph shook his head, ignoring his colleague's surprise, and instead pointed to the explosive scene at the scene:

"Joseph, the most important thing for a journalist is to be factual, and then to attract attention. Look at these three ladies with their eight-year-old children, looking for a father who is smaller than the children."

"Don't you think this is a very sensational news story? There must be some unspeakable secret behind it. Whether it's a frame-up or those ladies committed serious crimes, this is a story that deserves to be on the front page."

After explaining the whole story, Mike Joseph shrugged and said in a seemingly relaxed manner:

"Anyway, the editors just told us to collect news stories with enough sensationalism; they didn't give us any specific requirements, did they?"

What you said makes a lot of sense.

Upon hearing this, many reporters suddenly realized what was going on and started snapping photos.

Who cares what happened? As long as the target is met!

The astonished expressions of the three women were perfectly captured on film. They never dreamed that a young man would come forward and claim to be the owner of the steel company.

After all, the person behind the scenes didn't give them any photos of their target, nor did the nobleman who secretly instructed them to do so. All they had was a name and the information that the target was male.

As for the others, they seem to be hidden by some force, and it is impossible to find any valuable information at all.

"What? What kind of look is that?"

"Didn't you say I toyed with your feelings? Tell me, how did I toy with them?"

"Did we strip you naked, or take off your pants?"

Feeling the undisguised sound of the camera shutter, the blond boy raised an eyebrow, becoming even more arrogant and domineering, his words unabashed and utterly devoid of any sense of shame.

If these people dare to admit it, they will face several years in prison.

"We mistook you for someone else, we're so sorry."

"Yes, yes, don't cry, we mistook you for someone else."

"I'm so sorry, young man, we've mistaken you for someone else."

Upon hearing Ron's question, the three women in their forties, who had just been grieving, immediately changed their expressions, grabbed their still-crying children, and turned to leave.

Ha, you think you can just leave after offending me?!

"Wait a minute, I have one great virtue: I'm always willing to help others. Aren't you looking for the child's father? I'll help you find him right now!"

The blond boy raised his hand and waved it, and the divine aura instantly enveloped the three high-society socialites who were trying to escape.

The vastness, like the universe, and the weight, like the Milky Way, did not have any effect on the real world. However, the solemnity and reverence, as if facing a deity, made the socialites who were looking for their children's fathers tremble and subconsciously shout out the "truth".

"This is Baron Sindras's child!" *2

"This is Duke Negan's child!"

Click click click!!

Another series of camera shutter clicks, and the blond boy, not at all surprised, says:

"Oh dear, so these are the children of two nobles. Appearances can be deceiving; how could they possibly harm you?"

"Quickly, a few people come and take the children back to their homes. Honestly, is it appropriate to let children cry outside in this freezing weather?"

"Don't worry, although renting a carriage is expensive, and even dukes and barons can't afford it, it's alright, it's on me!"

As Ron spoke boastfully, he beckoned to his supervisor, signaling him to send a few men to hire a carriage.

As for whether these children were actually the children of these two nobles, Ron could tell at a glance that they weren't; he was just looking for an excuse to annoy them.

If you can disgust me, can't I disgust you too?

Do you think I have to pay "protection money" to the Conservative Party just because I'm doing business in Backlund?

If you keep showing off, believe me, I'll have Mr. Fool knock the head off the Lord of Storms.

In certain circles in Backlund, some people are too self-important and always think they're something special.

(End of this chapter)