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"Eat, kid."
"Only after you fill your belly will you have the strength to work!"
Devil Bear Douluo spoke with a face full of benevolent generosity, as if he were doing Ning Rongrong a tremendous favor.
Work.
These two simple syllables stabbed into Ning Rongrong's ears like needles.
She slowly lifted her head.
Not far away—at Lin Feng's table—was heaven.
Bibi Dong gently wiped the oil at the corner of her lips, her purple eyes glowing with contentment.
Hu Liena and Zhu Zhuqing ate in small, delicate bites, occasionally panting lightly from the spiciness, cheeks flushed, their beauty dazzling.
That was paradise.
While the "food" in her hand—
This dark, rock-hard chunk of jerky—
Was hell.
Why?
Why did she have to chew something that even stray dogs might refuse,
while being forced to work like a beast?
Why did they get to bully her with the ridiculous "Spirit Hall Code"
and make her their unpaid laborer?!
A grievance and fury she had never felt before surged up violently.
Then—she moved.
In front of over a dozen stunned Titled Douluo…
BANG!!!
She slammed the jerky onto the ground with all her strength.
Sparks flew.
Sparks.
Everyone froze.
Over a dozen wide-eyed, shocked old monsters stared at the girl, unable to process the sudden explosion of defiance.
"I'm not doing it!"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was razor-sharp—
shaking, but filled with sheer fury.
Her chest heaved.
Her eyes were swollen, reddened, and brimming with despair as she glared at Golden Crocodile Douluo and every other Titled Douluo present.
"You want skewers?"
"Fine!"
"But don't expect me to be your free cook—
watching you eat fragrant meat while I gnaw on stones!"
Every word was trembling.
Yet every syllable was crystal clear.
"For every ten skewers I grill—
you must give me two!"
Golden Crocodile Douluo's brows drew tight.
A crushing pressure belonging to a peerless Rank 99 Douluo rolled out from him.
"Little girl…
do you know who you are talking to?"
"Are you threatening us?"
Before today, Ning Rongrong would've been flattened by the pressure.
But now?
Her sanity had snapped.
Her desperation gave birth to a bravery even she never knew she had.
She raised her neck and stared back.
"I'm not threatening you."
"I'm negotiating terms."
"Either agree—
or we're done."
"Anyway, my father doesn't want me, and I can't go back to the sect."
"My life is worthless. If I die, then I die."
"But if I die, then you can go roast your own charcoal!"
BANG.
A direct hit.
The most painful, most vulnerable place in every Titled Douluo's heart—
They didn't give a damn about Ning Rongrong's life.
But they cared deeply about—
Whether they could eat meat tonight.
A dozen Titled Douluo exchanged glances.
The atmosphere grew strange.
What she said…
…made sense?
If they killed her, nobody would be able to grill those skewers.
If they agreed to her…
Two out of ten?
Wasn't that too shameless?
What would happen to Spirit Hall's almost nonexistent dignity?!
A dozen Titled Douluo being held hostage by a teenage girl?
But the smell of meat…
The memory of oil dripping over flames…
The trauma of hundreds of skewers turned into charcoal…
In the battle between dignity and appetite—
Appetite crushed dignity into dust.
Golden Crocodile Douluo inhaled sharply, suppressing his rage.
This would be the first time in his life—
a peerless Douluo negotiated terms over food.
"Ahem…
Twenty percent is too high."
"One skewer for every twenty you roast.
That's your labor fee."
He was already being "extremely benevolent."
And yet—
Ning Rongrong didn't even blink.
She let out a cold, disdainful snort.
"One out of twenty?"
"Are you trying to cheat a beggar?"
"Two for ten."
"Not one less."
"Girl, don't push your luck!"
Ghost Leopard Douluo growled, face dark.
"One for nineteen! That's our limit!"
"Two for ten!"
Ning Rongrong stood her ground.
"Take it or leave it."
"If I starve to death—
you starve with me."
After saying that, she actually sat down on the ground.
Crossed her arms.
Hugged her knees.
And put on the "do whatever you want, kill me if you like" pose of a true rogue.
"One for eighteen! Last offer!"
"Two for ten!"
"…"
And thus—
one of the most absurd scenes in Douluo Continent history unfolded.
More than a dozen terrifying Titled Douluo—
Surrounded a little girl sitting on the floor—
Bargaining.
Their faces were red.
Their voices rose and fell.
It looked less like Spirit Hall's elite—
More like a group of marketplace aunties haggling over vegetables.
Bone Douluo stood off to the side, eye twitching uncontrollably.
This girl…
He had never seen her this fierce in the sect.
Indeed—
The brutality of society is the best catalyst for growth.
Finally—
After a war of saliva and spittle, Golden Crocodile Douluo slammed down the verdict.
"Enough! Everyone quiet!"
Grinding his molars, he stared at Ning Rongrong.
"Fifteen skewers!"
"You grill fifteen, we give you one!"
"This is the final bottom line.
If you don't agree—
then we'll go roast more charcoal!"
He glared at her, breathing heavily.
All the Titled Douluo stared at her too.
This was truly their last concession.
Ning Rongrong lowered her head.
Her mind raced.
Fifteen Titled Douluo were present.
Per person: Grill fifteen → earn one.
In a full round—
She'd get fifteen skewers.
That's…
that's more than any of them would get!
Only now did she realize—
She might actually come out on top.
Heart pounding with excitement, she forced herself to keep a sorrowful, reluctant expression—
And slowly nodded.
"Fine."
"It's a deal."
"Deal!"
Those two words—
Were like heavenly salvation.
All the Titled Douluo exhaled collectively in relief.
Finally, the torment was over!
The next moment—
Ning Rongrong sprang up energetically.
Patted her backside.
Her previously weak, pitiful posture vanished without a trace.
She grabbed the pile of meat skewers, placed them on the grill, and—
Immediately began working with enthusiasm.
It was as if the girl threatening suicide moments ago was someone else entirely.
All the Titled Douluo:
"…"
A collective realization dawned upon them.
They had been…
Outsmarted.
By a teenage girl.
_____________________
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