Dragon Ball: Saiyan's Culinary Journey Through the Heavens

Chapter 82 The Substitute Marquis

Chapter 82 The Substitute Marquis

The enemy is so terrifying. If we really send him up to be questioned, wouldn't that be like sending a lamb to the slaughter?

Marquis Bosier's face was gloomy, but the nobles and slave traders who had previously come to fawn over him were all looking at him with strange eyes.

Marquis Bossier had a feeling that even if he refused here, he would likely be sent up by this group of people as everyone expected.

After all, the strength of the assassins who raided the city lord's mansion was evident to all, and the two guards who originally served Marquis Bosier had both been killed.

The only person we can rely on now is the Chief of the Armaments Department, Aino, who took the initiative to suggest that he go forward and talk to the assassins on the battlefield.

This guy is unreliable; he might be thinking about sending him to his death so he can divide his assets with others.

Marquis Bosier's forehead began to sweat. If he didn't quickly come up with a suitable reason to refuse this group's request for him to go forward and talk to the assassin, these guys who used to be like lapdogs might actually push him forward, and he would probably be finished.

In a moment of quick thinking, Marquis Bosier exclaimed, "Oh dear, you fools! You've all been fooled by the assassin!"

"Huh?"

The crowd, who were about to push the adult to send him off, were stunned by what they heard, and then looked at Marquis Bosier with some doubt.

"My lord, what do you mean by that?"

Someone asked.

"If the assassin is as powerful as he appears, then why did he destroy our artillery?"

Why don't you dare charge straight into our ranks and take our heads from among a thousand soldiers?

Marquis Bossier pointed out two key points, which everyone found quite reasonable.

"Is it possible that the assassin wasn't actually an assassin, but someone who genuinely came to ask His Excellency the Marquis questions?"

Suddenly someone said this, and everyone looked at the young nobleman who had spoken.

Upon seeing who it was, many people showed disdain.

"Who do we have here? It's little Thrace. Ah, as simple-minded as his father is, so too is he simple-minded."

Some people mocked.

In this city of slaves, some people once proposed liberating the slaves, arguing that engaging in the human trafficking business was against human ethics and did not benefit the city.

Conversely, freeing slaves and putting them in factories, paying them to work and create value, could make the city even greater.

Naturally, the person who uttered such unconventional remarks died, and his son inherited the title of baron, but was never liked by the Marquis Bossier.

Others also tacitly rejected this family that had once uttered strange remarks, and jokingly referred to them as the family in the greenhouse.

This was not a compliment; rather, it suggested that the family members were mentally ill for attempting to liberate slaves.

"My lord, is this really impossible?"

Upon seeing that the Marquis of Bosier was equally unimpressed, the young nobleman immediately began to argue.

"Impossible, absolutely impossible. There's only one reason why the assassin didn't break in: he was also afraid of our power."

Marquis Bosier waved his hand, making a definitive judgment, but looking at the still somewhat stubborn young master of the Thracian family, he suddenly had an idea.

"However, since you're willing to believe the assassin isn't an assassin, why don't you impersonate me and speak to the assassin yourself?"

"But I am not you."

"It's alright, that assassin doesn't know who I am."

"Or perhaps, young master Thrace, you're just saying it, but you don't actually believe it, just like your former father who was always full of empty talk?"

Another person said.

"I will not allow you to insult my father!"

"Then, are you willing to speak with that assassin in place of the Marquis?"

"Fine, I'll go!"

"Young Master..."

The old butler beside the young nobleman was flustered and tried to say something, but was reprimanded by Marquis Bossier.

"How dare you, a servant, interrupt your master?"

"My lord, please forgive my steward; he was only concerned about me."

"If you don't care, then I won't go over your head to punish him."

So, are you trying to prove to others that you're not a frivolous person?

"I will prove it, Your Excellency Marquis. I am willing to go and speak with that person in your place."

Marquis Bosir was pleased to see that Qasim Thrace was willing to act as his substitute.

Although the Thracians were a bit too upright in their thinking, they were still very loyal.

"Young master, we'll go with you. If that assassin tries anything against you, we can cover your retreat."

There were only a few armed guards, but these men were all willing to protect their young master, as the former Thracian Baron owed them a debt of gratitude for freeing them from slavery.

"If you can successfully dissuade the assassin, I will reward you."

The Marquis Bossier also made a promise by writing a blank check.

However, before the enemy troops left and began their march, Marquis Bosier asked the head of the Armaments Department, "Does the army still have any cannons?"

"There are a few spare doors, but setting them up will take some time."

"Very good, go set up now. If that assassin really comes out to talk, after the cannons are set up, aim at him and fire directly to launch a sneak attack."

The head of the Armaments Department was no longer surprised by the extent of his lord's depravity. He responded and went to instruct his subordinates to deploy new cannons.

Despite witnessing Broly's disregard for bullet attacks, Marquis Bosier remained confident in the strength of his side.

After all, there is a qualitative difference between the power of artillery and the power of bullets. There are some dangerous species in the wild that can stop bullets and have thick skin, but those that can stop artillery are basically only super dangerous species.

Even the most dangerous species can be injured or even killed if hit head-on by artillery fire.

Clearly, the scene of Broly catching the cannonball just now took place inside the city lord's mansion.

The marquis outside didn't see it, otherwise he wouldn't be so confident.

"Your Excellency is brilliant!"

Upon hearing Marquis Bosier's remarks, a group of sycophantic nobles and slave traders immediately began to praise him, as if they were not the ones who had just tried to force him to go up and talk to the assassin.

Seeing this, Marquis Bosier smiled on the surface, but inwardly he sneered, deciding that he would definitely deal with these opportunistic fellows later.

The army on the street had stopped attacking, and Broly had stopped throwing things at them. He sat on the third floor of the city lord's mansion, in a hole in the wall riddled with bullet holes, waiting for the choice to be made by the large group of people below who seemed somewhat afraid of him.

Not long after, a small group emerged from the passage cleared by the army. Protected in the middle of the group was a young nobleman dressed in rather modest clothes. He stopped about ten meters away from the gate of the city lord's mansion.

Raising his head, his voice slightly nervous, he called out to Broly, who was sitting on the edge of the gap on the third floor: "I am Marquis Bosier. If you have any questions for me, please feel free to ask. As long as I know it, I will tell you everything."

He kicked the wall with his heel, and as the wall shattered, Broly crashed into the middle of the small group below.

The speed was so fast that no one could react in time. By the time they did, the guards around Thrace were already having some kind of shock reaction.

Some gripped their swords, others drew their spears.

"Don't move, don't move, don't be nervous, we're just here to talk."

Qasim Thrace quickly raised his hand and shouted to stop those around him from taking any further action.

"Finally, someone who understands things has arrived."

Broly was very pleased with this.

"What questions do you have, sir? Please ask."

"Since you're reasonable, I'll just ask directly. Hmm, you're not going to cause trouble for Green and his family's bookstore, are you?"

Broly asked directly.

Upon hearing this question, the young 'Marquis' opposite him stiffened his expression.

"Sir, may I ask who Green is?"

After a moment of silence, Qasim Thrace asked the question.

(End of this chapter)