At high noon under the scorching sun, Tong Dun walked on the stone path of the mine towards the cafeteria.

  Jackson wore a suit of 'Hundred Warriors' light leather armor, following behind, the green-glowing eyeballs wandered back and forth over the heads of those humans, pondering where to take a bite, which would be more delicious.

  "I really want to have a big meal!"

  Jackson sighed, if it weren't for Danton, he would have gone on a killing spree long ago. Although he was grateful to the master for taking him away from the desolate underground city, not being able to fully enjoy delicious food was a huge regret.

  "Mind your tongue, or I'll have you kicked back to Porusna if I find out you're eating people!" Danton warned, the demon servant was intelligent and a troublemaker.

  Jackson had had enough of the war zone, which was no different from being in prison, so he strongly demanded to be let out for some fresh air, even threatening to kill himself.

  Downton isn't unfeeling, it's just that taking a ghoul out in public is really too much.

  "You wear the title of Holy Knight on your head, what are you afraid of? Just say it under your holy calling, and it will know its own sin and repent!" Holma felt that Danton was too cautious and couldn't help but educate him, "Whoever doesn't believe it, let them go talk to Jackson about life."

  "Hmph, I'll definitely teach them a lesson. Jackson sneered with a strange smile, unable to help but complain, 'The master is too kind-hearted, if you ask me, whoever dares to talk nonsense in front of you, just chop them down with an axe and beat them until they don't dare look straight at you again.'"

  "And then you're going to eat the corpse?" Downton sneered. "And what's with that laugh of yours? It's disgusting!"

  "Doesn't that laugh sound terrifying? I used to read some out of boredom, and the big demons in them all laughed like that." Jackson was stunned. "Oh no, won't it look silly?"

  "Stupid!" Tandon and Holma nodded, one spoke, the other projected words, "Wipe off the saliva at the corner of your mouth."

  "Haha, sorry about that, I'm just starving." Jackson was at it again, and you had to say, this guy had no self-respect whatsoever, not like a soon-to-be mid-tier undead monster at all.

  With Jackson, there are actually some benefits. It can hold the magic book while carrying the Dragon Tooth Battle Axe, allowing Danton to use it in battle at any time.

  Add to that a backpack full of supplies and Jackson is essentially a pack mule with occasional part-time work as a wind sentinel.

  Of course, Jackson also has a deterrent force, a wise and combat-effective ghoul that can make some petty people re-examine Downton and understand that provoking him will come at a great cost.

  "To be honest, Jackson's sales are not bad either."

  Aestheticism's Homer rarely spoke well of Jackson.

  Although Jackson was a low-ranking zombie, he looked much better than those tattered zombies, but still ugly. So Downton wrapped his body with white bandages, leaving only a pair of eyes and mouth exposed, just like an Egyptian mummy. With this dress-up, his straight figure, paired with black light armor, actually revealed a strange beauty.

  "Really?" Jackson couldn't help but strike a pose, eagerly asking, "Like a big star of a traveling opera troupe?"

  "Like a rotting corpse in a tomb!" Danton rolled his eyes, fortunately the low-ranking ghouls with decent strength didn't have an odor, otherwise he absolutely wouldn't bring this thing along.

  "Even if it's a corpse, it's the most beautiful corpse." Jackson muttered to himself, narcissistically.

  At lunchtime, there were quite a few people crowded in front of the cafeteria. However, as soon as Tang Don walked in, the miners immediately made way for him. Even those who didn't know him were pulled aside by others nearby.

  Gai Zhi squeezed in the middle, saw the crowd split open, when Tang Dun walked by, they either lowered their heads or forced a smile, which made him envy beyond measure. To know that just a few days ago, the two people were still in the same position.

  "Big boss!"

  A dozen or so trusted men who had been waiting in the vicinity saw Tongdon and immediately crowded over, pushing aside the impertinent miners to clear a path for their leader.

  As soon as they stepped into the cafeteria, a wave of food aroma wafted over, and amidst the cacophony of voices, the exhausted miners finally had a brief moment to rest.

  Although they complained about the poor food, they still wolfed it down and ate every last bit.

  "Big worker, I'll help you with your meal." A middle-aged miner found an opportunity to show his eagerness and walked up beside Jackson, "Where's the dinner plate?"

  "It's alright, you guys go eat, I'll queue up myself." Tandon wasn't used to being served by others, at his core, he was still a kind-hearted young man.

  The reserved section of the hall, where the black-clad supervisors and mine owners gathered, had been hostile to Downton since his arrival.

  "Next!"

  The chef yelled, urging the miners to hurry up. They scooped the potato and meat stew into bowls with ladles, then added two palm-sized breads and three slices of smoked meat. The whole process was neat and efficient.

  If you're familiar with the chef, you might even get an extra bread or a spoonful of mashed potatoes. Even if others see this, no one dares to complain in person, because offending the chef means going hungry for the next few days.

  It was Tangdon's turn now, he stood in front of the counter and handed over his meal tray.

  "Next!"

  The chef glanced at Downton and dropped his eyelids.

  Tang Dun was stunned.

  "Next, didn't you hear? If you don't want to eat, then get out!" The chef banged the iron bucket containing food with a ladle, making a loud clanging sound.

  "You're looking for death, this is our Tangdon's big workshop!" The followers behind didn't dare to cross Tangdon to get food, and seeing this scene, they were already furious, scolding loudly.

  "I don't care who you are, this is a cafeteria, if you come here to eat, you have to follow the rules." The chef's voice grew even louder, with spittle flying into the meat soup.

  He had already received the above instructions to give Tangdon some trouble, so that he would understand that a big worker in the dagger mine was not even worth farting.

  "Haha, a big boss who can't even afford to eat, how embarrassing."

  "Come on, come and eat, I have chicken legs here!"

  A pointed-chin convict picked up a chicken leg from the dinner plate, swung it back and forth, and then tossed it to Tanton's feet. They were all convicts brought by the supervisor just to clean up after Tanton.

  "Are you guys going to eat or not? Hurry up, next one!" The chef yelled loudly, but he found that in the long queue of over 300 people, not a single person dared to come forward to get food.

  "Let's go eat!" Tang Don said lightly, not taking back the plate. He still remembered Holma's words: never to be special, but to eat with the miners in order to gain their recognition.

  The chef knew that once he served dinner to Dongton, his job would be done and he would definitely be fired. But being stared at by so many people, especially with a pair of eyes glowing green, made him feel immense pressure.

  "Alright, next one!"

  The chef scooped up a small ladle of meat soup, and then used his black and greasy big hands to grab a piece of bread, wiping it on his pants that were full of oil stains, and put everything onto the dinner plate.

  Downton ignored the workmen's snickers, glanced at his plate and raised his voice, "More food, fill it up."

  "Even if you're the boss, no exceptions." The chef grumbled, but ultimately didn't dare disobey Tang Don's words and gave him an extra serving.

  The attitude of those ordinary miners made this old slicker feel that he might have gotten himself into a big trouble, but soon he became complacent.

  "I'm really too clever." The chef was pleased with himself, thinking that his ability to think on his feet was not bad. Letting Tang Dun eat dirty things was also a kind of punishment. He was pondering whether or not to report to the head chef when a dinner plate flew over.

  Bang! The chef was knocked backward, scalding hot potato soup poured onto his face and down his neck, making him cry out in agony.

  The commotion over here also attracted the attention of everyone in the entire hall.

  Tang Dun suddenly added a dish, just to smash the chef. He supported the counter with his right hand and flipped inside, grasping the oily chef's hair and pulling him towards the wall.

  "No!" The chef struggled as the dark wall rushed towards him, but it was no use. His head crashed heavily into it.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Downton grabbed the chef's hair and used his face as a walnut, banging it against the wall.

  The bridge of his nose was shattered, and fresh blood gushed out like a faucet that had been turned on, half of the teeth in his mouth were gone, and his swollen lips were puffed up high.

  "Spare me, stop hitting!" The chef wailed, his shrill cry bringing the entire hall to silence.

  A group of panting, sweaty-headed men walked in, saw the scene and stopped dead in their tracks. After confirming Tang Don's back view, the leaders exchanged a look with each other.

  "Do you know what to do now?" Tang Don stopped and pulled the chef's head in front of him.

  "Alright, alright." The chef's entire face was distorted, with blood and water staining his chest a deep crimson.

  "Alright, go get lunch then!" Tang Dong threw down his chef's hat and stood back at the front of the line.

  The ordinary miners in the hall looked at the blood-stained walls and then glanced at the unlucky chef, suddenly cheering up. They had long wanted to beat those chefs who deducted their food. Tangton's move was really a way for them to vent their anger.

  The chef, wincing in pain, finished cooking and presented the meal with both hands, respectfully handing it to Tong Dun.

  "Boss, your meal is ready!"

  The chef even used honorific language, and the plates were filled to the brim with smoked meat, including the potato meat soup, which was the thickest.

  "The miners' meals are all allocated according to this amount. If you can't manage, you can roll back home." Tong Dun took over and walked towards the dining table.

  "Long live the great leader!"

  Upon hearing Downton's words, the chef's expression turned bitter, but the miners cheered even louder, never had a big boss offended the head chef for the sake of these lowly workers.

  "Pfft, you're quite arrogant, kid!" The pointed-chinned mine boss walked up to Tang Don with a group of people, cleared his throat and spat a mouthful of thick phlegm onto the dinner plate. "You wanted seconds? Alright, everyone give him seconds."

  Before the words had fallen, Tang Dun's right hand held up a plate and suddenly splashed it fiercely onto his face.