HTLCCBFT Chapter 42

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 42

Oliver wasn’t sure how others would react if they saw a large group of fluffy little chicks flapping their adorable tiny wings, charging toward them with fierce determination…

Staring at the overwhelmingly enthusiastic yellow chicks, he froze for a moment before instinctively taking several steps back.

—The chicks, moving on their short little legs, immediately quickened their pace.

“Ah!” Lucy gasped, quickly shouting to the equally stunned Jonathan: “Bang the basin hard! Quickly!”

“Yes!”

Jonathan snapped out of his daze and began striking the wooden basin with several times more force than before, creating dull “thump thump” sounds while doing his best to imitate a hen’s “cluck cluck” calls.

Ziken instinctively ran a few steps toward the Lord, attempting to block the surging tide of chicks with his body—all in vain.

One after another, these charmingly plump little chicks chirped excitedly along the way, charging straight toward the owner of the hand that had been gently stroking them these past days.

Judging by their reckless momentum, anyone could tell they had truly mistaken the Lord for their mother.

The feeding basin and feed that usually held great appeal for them had completely lost their attraction: they ignored the poor soul desperately banging the basin, instead scrambling over each other in their little trot until they swarmed before Oliver.

A gentle breeze swept through.

His slightly curled golden hair stirred softly, shimmering like flowing gold.

The noble beauty looked bewildered, his pale golden eyelashes slightly lowered, his azure eyes silently meeting the gaze of the chicks who had lifted their little heads.

Meanwhile, these two hundred plus chicks swarming before him boldly stared back with their dark, round eyes while spreading their wings and stretching their legs, their soft pink beaks opening and closing as they continuously emitted urging “cheep cheep” chirps.

When that gentle breeze passed by, they even happily wagged their short tails that resembled little tufts, shaking their heads and ruffling their short feathers all over.

Wherever the Lord went, they would immediately abandon whatever they were doing—whether scratching the ground, catching insects, or pecking at leaves—and anxiously chirp while hurrying after him on their slender legs.

Lucy didn’t know how to describe this strange yet beautiful scene, nor how to express the feeling of her heart melting at this moment.

After standing frozen for a long time, she blinked slowly and murmured quietly: “Great Cat God.”

Although the beautiful Lord indeed appeared quite troubled, even somewhat helpless.

But, this…

Lucy swallowed, not daring to say it out loud.

…Was just too adorable!

These usually quite spirited chicks, who only showed them enthusiasm during feeding time while being either fierce or indifferent otherwise, were actually behaving so affectionately and clingy before the Lord!

No, it wasn’t just clinginess.

It was completely fawning and even somewhat pitiful: whether it was their drawn-out, clear chirping; or their bodies fluffed up to appear even more like round yellow furballs; or how they constantly tapped their little claws while following the Lord’s every step…

Jonathan and Ziken exchanged a glance, somewhat awkwardly setting down the wooden basin and feed in their hands.

They didn’t find anything unusual about such a scene at all.-The Lord’s divine beauty is something even the wise and great deities cannot resist, let alone mere chicks.

Oliver had no idea about the absurd theories the slaves were secretly concocting in their minds. After a standoff with the chicks, he finally realized what was happening.

“Hand me the feed basin.”

He extended his hand toward Jonathan.

“Yes, my Lord,” Jonathan quickly scurried over. “Here it is, my Lord.”

Though unclear about the exact circumstances, seeing these fluffy little creatures stubbornly determined to follow him, Oliver could only smile wryly and take on the role of guide.

Holding the feed basin, he didn’t rush to scatter the feed but instead walked slowly toward the enclosed cornfield.

Just as expected, with his guidance, even the step of luring them with feed became unnecessary: the moment the chicks saw their perceived “mother” leaving, they immediately followed without hesitation.

Oliver helplessly led them into the cornfield, thinking to himself that it was probably because he had been sneaking touches during the brooding period… no, petting the chickens daily, that the chicks had developed imprinting behavior.

Although the process differed from what he had envisioned, at least the goal was achieved.

Only after confirming with his own eyes that all the chicks had entered the free-range area did Oliver breathe a sigh of relief.

He quickly circled back out while they were busy scratching and playing in the dirt.

“Fosse,” he recalled the butler appearing to have something to say earlier and inquired, “Has something happened?”

“Nothing significant, Your Highness,” Fosse replied with utmost respect. “It’s just that the field you were halfway through watering has already been finished by the slaves on their own initiative.”

Oliver: “…..”

He paused for a moment before looking helplessly at the respectfully composed butler. “Fosse, did you do this intentionally?”

He found it hard to believe that such a noticeable matter could truly escape his all-capable butler.

“Not this time, Your Highness,” Fosse answered candidly. “By the time I learned about it, it was already too late.”

But Oliver detected some underlying meaning and pressed further, “What if you had known in advance?”

The butler, whom many considered omnipotent, smiled slightly and bowed gracefully. “Your Highness must have already guessed my answer.”

Out of reverence for the Cat God and respect for his young master, even when Oliver gave the slaves time off and personally took to watering the fields, Fosse had struggled to suppress the urge to dissuade him.

But watching his young master grow increasingly skilled and seemingly enjoy the watering tasks, Fosse couldn’t help feeling anxious.

…What if His Highness decided to take over the watering duties permanently after this day?

Though his expression remained neutral, Fosse was deeply concerned internally.

Until he witnessed those typically dull-witted slaves unexpectedly choosing the right way to show their gratitude this time…

While feeling satisfied, he also developed a slight change of perspective toward those beings his young master had always treated with excessive kindness.

In truth, Fosse was worrying unnecessarily.

What his beloved young master cared about most wasn’t whether the farm work itself was enjoyable, but the experience points he could gain from it.

His enthusiasm for the tasks was merely to acquire experience, quickly improve his professional skill levels, and unlock important item recipes.

Oliver certainly had no intention of raising a group of lazybones who would only depend on him.

It had already been proven that the cornfields sown with seeds produced by the game system would continue to yield bountiful harvests. Laina City was destined to have no shortage of food for the winter this year.

He had always used the name of the Cat God to encourage qualities such as “diligence and kindness” and “honesty and wisdom” in order to actively mobilize everyone.

Only when everyone contributed their share to building their home and Laina, gaining a strong sense of belonging along with the harvest, would this become a true virtuous cycle.

“Regardless, holidays are gifts bestowed by the benevolent Cat God upon His diligent and kind believers,” Oliver emphasized. “Even if they volunteered to work, it should not be encouraged. There must not be a next time.”

After witnessing yesterday’s “sea of flowers” and hearing the emotionally charged chorus, Oliver was certainly willing to believe that the slaves had acted from the bottom of their hearts.

Such sincere devotion could not fail to move him.

But it absolutely must not be encouraged.

If he were to show approval of such behavior, he could not guarantee whether the slaves would act out of genuine willingness or be “forced to volunteer” next time—this bad practice of pressuring subordinates to compete in working unpaid overtime during holidays was simply a microcosm of certain future phenomena of excessive internal competition.

At this point, a faint, mischievous smile appeared in the Lord’s light blue eyes. “However, since this is their first offense and it was done with good intentions—aligning with the great Cat God’s most valued quality of ‘diligence’—let’s just give them a small punishment.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Though Fosse was somewhat surprised that his young master, who had always been extremely kind to the slaves, had resolved to punish them this time, he still leaned forward slightly and quietly awaited further instructions.

“Let the punishment be…” Oliver cleared his throat lightly, suppressing a laugh. “At tonight’s bonfire celebration, everyone must dance a dance or sing a song in public. For slaves who, over the past dozen, twenty, or even thirty years, have never dared to draw attention to themselves, this ‘punishment’ that requires them to stand out will surely give most of them a headache.”

As Fosse relayed the order, Oliver turned to Lucy and the other two, who were solemnly watching the chicks in the field, and patiently instructed, “This is the first time we’re pasturing them, so don’t let them out for too long. Drive them back at the fourth bell.”

Otherwise, once it grew completely dark, it wouldn’t be easy to catch any lost, foolish chickens in this cornfield.

Seeing Lucy and the others nod, Oliver turned to look at the simple chicken coop and showed a dissatisfied expression. “When you have your day off tomorrow, find some people to renovate the coop and add some perches inside.”

After all, in another month, once the chicks had completely shed their downy feathers, they would need to be gradually trained to roost on perches.

The benefits of sleeping on perches were obvious: it not only reduced contact with accumulated droppings and bedding on the ground but also promoted intestinal movement and better digestion of food.

“For the next half month, there’s no need to rush to deliberately extend their time outside the coop,” Oliver explained. “The key is to get them accustomed to returning to their nests to rest upon hearing the sound of the wooden basin being struck. But if any chickens return to the coop early, they must be promptly driven away.”

Lucy kept nodding.

Although it was quite challenging for her, being illiterate, to rely solely on memory, she still made every effort to remember the Lord’s words.

He was clearly a noble high above, yet he knew so much about raising chickens…

Lucy gazed at the Angel Duke with admiration, his figure appearing especially radiant and majestic in her eyes.

Truly worthy of being the only Lord blessed with the Cat God’s divine favor!

Ziken naturally couldn’t remember that much, simply standing there nonchalantly, waiting to receive instructions from Lucy later.

Jonathan, who had been a commoner and studied for several years, was slightly more cautious. He secretly used a small wooden stick to jot down the key points he had just heard on the ground, in case there were any mistakes or omissions in what Lucy remembered.

Seeing Jonathan’s action, Oliver was momentarily taken aback.

…There were thousands of complete illiterates in the territory.

Thinking of this, the Lord with a heavy responsibility and long road ahead couldn’t help but hold his forehead.

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