HLM – Chapter 138 Mighty and Overbearing Giant Wētā

After staying in the castle for a full week, Bartier and his son were ready to leave.

Little Bartier wasn’t too willing to go. As they prepared to depart, he wore a sullen expression, his eyes constantly darting toward Zhuang Ding and Commander. But the two ignored him completely, their unwavering loyalty to Wang Bo making even the domineering CEO envious.

Standing in the outer courtyard, Bartier shook hands with Wang Bo and smiled. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mayor Wang. Once I return, I’ll personally push for the branch office’s establishment.”

Wang Bo cared quite a bit about that matter and returned the smile. “That would be a great help. I’ll deliver the cattle and sheep to you—I’ll be buying a trailer within the next couple of days.”

Bartier had indeed bought quite a lot: fifty sheep and ten Simmental cattle. He said he had a small farm in Wellington where he could slowly raise and enjoy them.

Now that was a real tycoon move. Wellington wasn’t like the remote wilds of Canterbury—it was a major city with sky-high housing and land prices. Owning a farm on the outskirts of Wellington? That cost a fortune.

But Wang Bo hoped Bartier would eat those animals quickly. He wasn’t sure if the meat would retain its current flavor without the “Heart of the Pasture.”

Because Bartier had bought so many animals, Wang Bo had to handle delivery himself per New Zealand’s agricultural trade rules. As for the fuel costs of the trailer, that was Bartier’s responsibility.

Little Bartier was reluctant to leave. After a week of rest and recovery, his mental state had improved significantly—he could sleep peacefully every night and had regained the vitality of a young boy.

So, when it came time to leave, he threw a tantrum. He ran up and hugged Zhuang Ding’s neck, shouting, “Dad, I don’t want to go! I’m not going back! I want to stay here and play with my good friends!”

Zhuang Ding shoved him away with a smack. Damn it, I’m not playing with you, and I’m not your good friend either.

Little Bartier was undeterred and clung to Zhuang Ding’s thick neck again, asking, “Zhuang Ding, we’re good friends, right?”

Zhuang Ding raised his big palm and pushed him off again. Who the hell is your good friend? Just leave already. If you stay, I’ll have to keep you company. I want to go ride the sheep at the ranch—it’s been ages!

Of course, Bartier couldn’t leave his son behind. He went up, grabbed the boy’s hand, and frowned. “Bartier Jr., behave. It’s time for us to go home.”

With no friends trying to keep him and his dad pulling him away, the boy looked utterly dejected, like a heartbroken girl being torn away from her lovers. He kept looking back as he walked, hoping Zhuang Ding and Commander would save him from the clutches of his feudal father.

The luxury helicopter roared as it lifted into the sky. Wang Bo watched the group depart, then returned to the castle with his dog and bird.

The cowboys Bowen had hired from Texas were on their way. They were… taking a ship.

Unbelievable. Even though they had access to much faster planes, these guys insisted on sailing. From Texas to New Zealand, a flight would take only a day and a night. But a ship? That would take five or six days!

Still, this gave Wang Bo time to build apartments for the cowboys. Since they’d be managing the ranch, they couldn’t live in the town or castle. He needed to build a housing complex on the edge of the ranch.

Naturally, it would be made from modular block houses again.

In early May, the draw feature became available once more. Wang Bo clicked it. The pointer spun and eventually stopped—on the Pet Heart.

Seeing this, he sighed in disappointment. The Pet Heart was useless to him. He only had two pets, and there was still one left unused in the Soul Container.

But then he realized—this wasn’t a Heart of the Pet. The text was twisted, finally becoming “Heart of the Beast.”

It was his first time obtaining a Heart of the Beast. Scratching his head in confusion, Wang Bo muttered, “What’s this for? Animals? But why would I use it on a beast?”

After some thought, he expanded the pasture using the sand table and located the boss among the Simmental cattle—a bull he had named “Bull Demon King.” He decided to test it out on him.

The Bull Demon King had grown rapidly. In just over half a year, it had become a formidable beast, about 1.1 meters tall at the shoulder and 1.2 meters long, with muscles packed tight like a cube of power.

Simmental cattle are dual-purpose (meat and milk), but in New Zealand, where there are many Holsteins for milk, Simmentals are typically raised for meat. Compared to Limousin cattle, which are purely meat breeds, Simmentals grow slower. If they reach 200–300 kilograms by six months, that’s already impressive. Judging by the Bull Demon King’s size, he probably weighed over 500 kilograms.

Wang Bo approached the proud and independent Bull Demon King and placed the Heart of the Beast on its body.

Success! The Heart of the Beast was absorbed directly into the bull’s body. On the sand table, the Bull Demon King’s appearance took on a faint green hue.

After accepting the Heart of the Beast, Wang Bo waited to observe any changes. Nothing dramatic occurred, but it was clear that the bull had become more agile—it began to jog around the pasture.

Meat cattle and pigs generally have very little natural inclination for exercise. In Wang Bo’s pasture, the cattle were even less active than the sheep. Once they found a patch of grass, they would just stand there chewing without moving.

As he checked the pasture, Wang Bo noticed over ten giant wētā locked in combat with a prairie rat.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him. But when he zoomed in on the sand table, he saw it clearly—these giant wētā were jumping around a prairie rat, attacking it in earnest.

These wētā were massive—each about ten centimeters long. The prairie rat was even larger, baring its teeth and glaring fiercely. It looked aggressive and intimidating.

But the wētā weren’t to be underestimated. With strong jaws and excellent agility, they circled the rat and bit whenever they got the chance, leaving the prairie rat writhing in pain.

After a few rounds, the prairie rat was spooked and ran off, tail dragging, with the wētā chasing closely behind in a fierce pursuit.

It was Wang Bo’s first time witnessing a direct battle between giant wētā and prairie rats. Previously, when researching, he had come across claims that giant wētā had an instinct to protect pasture root systems, and they would attack prairie rats that damaged the grass roots.

But due to the lack of video evidence, the scientific community had never officially recognized this claim. Wang Bo had dismissed it as just another strange anecdote—until now.

This scene completely changed his view.

As he continued monitoring the pasture, he paid close attention to the number of giant wētā. As expected, with the help of the Heart of the Pasture, this near-extinct guardian species of the grasslands had begun to thrive again.

Around mid-May, winter arrived—and the funds from Christie’s auction finally landed in Wang Bo’s account.

Christie’s had taken a 9.8% commission. Over a million was gone just like that. When Wang Bo looked at the account balance, he felt utterly heartbroken.

What hurt even more? He still had to pay taxes. And not a small amount either. He would definitely need to hire a professional to help with tax avoidance.