The Killing Field System included an appearance adaptation feature. Consequently, in the eyes of these townsfolk, Li Ang wasn't a weirdo in a full red sweater set. Instead, he appeared as an Asian youth dressed in Victorian Era clothing, fitting in seamlessly.

The crowd spontaneously parted, clearing a space. The bald mayor looked over. "You are..."

"This is a Monk from the Eastern Tang who has traveled across the Heavy Ocean to the Rune Kingdom, Brother Dao. The few individuals behind him are his disciples."

The logger Frederick hurried to explain, "Brother Dao possesses profound wisdom and mystical knowledge from the mysterious East."

"Hmm... I recognize you. You're that logger living in the forest."

The mayor looked at Frederick, recalling the identity of this peculiar logger. He nodded and then turned to Li Ang. "So, Monk... you say you have a way to help us resolve our current situation?"

"Indeed."

Li Ang nodded. He waved his hand behind him, signaling his teammates not to follow. "I can bring unity between the residents of Hamelin Town and the African settlers who've come here to live. I will find a way for both sides to coexist in harmony that is acceptable to each."

"Ah?"

The mayor's face fell again. He actually wanted to send all the Black people away—out of sight, out of mind—but such things couldn't be said publicly.

"Alright," the mayor said reluctantly. "And your method is...?"

"Heh," Li Ang revealed a somewhat mysterious smile. "Follow me."

Li Ang quickly entered the street-side bar and brought out a large number of tables and chairs. In the middle of the road, he swiftly set up a makeshift stage. On it, he placed a table, then stood beside it himself.

Including the Black residents peering down from their windows, everyone was baffled by his actions.

As if performing a magic trick, Li Ang pulled a crosstalk performer's robe from his clothes and put it on. He then looked down at the bewildered townsfolk and calmly said, "I need a volunteer. Who will step up?"

The townsfolk looked at one another; no one dared to step forward. The hippie scoffed, arms crossed over his chest, clearly anticipating some drama.

He was a pest extermination expert. If even he couldn't solve the problem, how could a mere Asian monk from the East possibly have a solution?

Li Ang frowned and urged, "Hurry up. This is for your town's own good."

The townsfolk stirred restlessly. The mayor looked left and right for a moment. Seeing no volunteers step forward, he put on a solemn, dignified expression, stealthily reached behind him, and forcefully pushed the back of a young townsman standing beside him.

The unfortunate young townsman, shoved forcefully, lost his balance and stumbled forward. Meanwhile, the mayor's face lit up with joy. He began to clap vigorously. "Good! Faust, I knew I didn't misjudge you! I'll definitely have Lauen give you a raise."

Inspired by the mayor, all the townsfolk began to clap, cheering loudly for the quarry worker named Faust.

"You all..."

Faust's expression changed several times. He wanted to return to the crowd, but seeing everyone clapping so enthusiastically, this young worker—usually active-minded and unwilling to be mediocre—also felt a bit carried away by the attention. Dazed and blushing, he climbed onto the stage Li Ang had hastily set up.

"Sir, what should I do?"

"Don't be nervous, young man," Li Ang smiled. "We are going to perform an Eastern traditional comedic art form known as 'crosstalk.' You just need to play along with me and chime in at the appropriate moments."

"Okay, got it."

Faust swallowed hard, his mind furiously trying to figure out what "crosstalk" even was.

Li Ang paid no mind to this volunteer. He shook his robe, slapped the table, and announced to the townsfolk and the African residents watching, "Today, the two of us will perform a crosstalk piece for everyone."

"MHM!" Faust responded subconsciously.

Li Ang nodded. "The content of this crosstalk piece," he said calmly, "is a story about searching for family."

"Right." Faust felt he was getting the hang of it.

"The protagonist of the story," Li Ang continued, "is a little Negro."

"What?!" Faust was aghast. Completely forgetting about the crosstalk performance, he stammered urgently, "Is that appropriate? Is that appropriate? Is that appropriate? Sir, how can you use such a discriminatory term?"

"HMM?" Li Ang looked completely baffled. "What discriminatory term?"

"Ne-Negro!"

Li Ang looked even more bewildered. "'Negro' is a discriminatory term?"

"Of course!" Faust was eager to prove he was a good citizen who wouldn't engage in any racial discrimination. "That word is an insult to our dearest African brothers and sisters! How could you possibly use it?"

"OH!" Li Ang waved his hand. "A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding! The 'Negro' I'm talking about doesn't refer to our African brothers and sisters."

"Then what do you mean?"

Li Ang explained, "In our Eastern Tang, girls who wear Lolita-style clothing are called 'Lo-girls.' Boys who wear Nike are also called 'Ni-guys.' You see, Nike is a clothing brand. So, 'Negro' refers to boys who wear this brand."

"Oh, oh, oh." Faust's tense heart finally eased. "I understand, I understand! Please continue. But it would be best not to use the term 'Negro.' I'm worried our dear African brothers and sisters might misunderstand and think we're extreme, narrow-minded racists."

"SIGH, what a hassle." Li Ang flicked his robe sleeve, pouting. "Fine, I won't use it. Let's start over."

"MHM."

"The protagonist of our story is named Negro."

"Why is it still 'Negro'?!" Faust felt like he was going to lose his mind.

"HMM?" Li Ang glanced at him. "Brother, are your ears not working properly? I didn't say 'Negro'."

"Then what did you say?"

"I said 'Ni Geng'—'Ni' as in mud, 'Geng' as in tilling," Li Ang clarified.

"What kind of person would have a name like that?!"

"That's where you're mistaken." Li Ang smiled. "In this little Ni Geng's homeland, it rains frequently, so the fields are always muddy. And since his family had to till the land all day, that's how he got such a name."

Faust looked utterly dismayed; this explanation was laden with clear malice. "Can I ask, where is this 'Ni Geng' from?"

"From the Rune Kingdom."

"Oh, that's good then." Faust let out a sigh of relief.

"His ancestors were from Africa," Li Ang added.

"That's still 'Negro,' isn't it?!" Faust completely broke down, oblivious to the fact that, in his agitation, he had already uttered the word 'Negro' numerous times himself.

"Not all people from Africa are Black, you know. Egypt has Caucasians," Li Ang said, somewhat annoyed. "Are you going to let me speak or not?"

"Go on, go on." Faust laughed weakly. He no longer had the energy to question the protagonist's ethnicity.

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