HLM -Chapter 775 “National Geographic Magazine”

Dinner featured a variety of chilled drinks, but the most popular item was the slushie. The castle had an ice maker, and one of its functions was producing slush — similar to snow, with a rough, crunchy texture.

Eva added honey and crushed mint leaves into the slush, giving the pure white ice a faint, refreshing mint aroma. The honey’s sweetness lingered on the tongue — it quickly became everyone’s favorite.

The honey-glazed barbecue was just as popular. The tender pork, infused with the sweetness of honey, took on a flavor that was rich and unique. Especially those cuts with a thin layer of fat — when the fat met the open flame, it melted into lard that mixed with the honey. The resulting aroma was indescribable. A whole pig, over thirty catties of meat, was completely devoured.

Honey was the secret hero behind it all — everyone started placing orders for it. Wang Bo promised, “Once we start large-scale honey production, I swear, brothers, you’ll all get a share. That’s part of the benefits package.”

“Hooray!” Kidd shouted joyfully.

But Hani was the sly one. “Boss, what counts as large-scale production?”

Wang Bo grinned. “When we can produce three hundred kilos a month.”

“Not there yet?” Atulu asked, disappointed.

Wang Bo shook his head, but Hani didn’t quite believe him. He turned to Tatak. “Hey, buddy, how’s the honey output?”

Tatak pointed to the rough clay jars he’d fired himself and said, “We can make ten jars a day — but after producing for a day, the bees have to rest for five days.”

Hani did a quick calculation. “That’s decent, but for a single hive to make three hundred kilos a month? No way. Even manuka honey doesn’t yield that much — what’s the annual production? Two thousand tons total?”

Wang Bo sighed. “If only you guys were eating it, that’d be fine. But look at Atulu — his family alone eats ten kilos a day!”

“Boss, you’re insulting me,” Atulu said, pretending to be offended before breaking into a grin. “I’d say we eat fifteen kilos a day!”

“F**k!” everyone cursed in unison.

Even the parrot colonel joined in with a loud “Ah—”

But before it could finish, Eva’s cold gaze swept over. She raised her hand, showing the parrot’s little harness of discipline.

The parrot instantly corrected itself: “Ah— ah! Naughty! All naughty!”

By late September, the sunlight over the South Island grew intense. The castle’s humidity changed; fog now appeared only in the early mornings and evenings, fading as soon as the sun rose.

As a result, the fog-shrouded castle became a scenic landmark of Sunset Town. One morning on his way to work, Wang Bo saw a group of people by the roadside setting up a strange machine.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing the cylindrical barrel nervously. “Hey, that’s not a cannon, right?”

A bearded man in a baseball cap laughed. “Of course not. Hello, Mayor Wang — I’m a photographer. We’re here to shoot a set of photos… for National Geographic Magazine.”

National Geographic was a world-renowned publication, especially the American edition, founded in the 1880s — nearly a century and a half ago.

Wang Bo was amazed. “That’s a camera?”

“No — it’s a cannon,” the bearded man said with a perfectly serious face before bursting out laughing. “Of course it’s a camera. The castle in the mist will be next month’s cover photo.”

Wang Bo was thrilled. He’d been planning a promotional video, but now one of the world’s biggest magazines had come to Sunset Town. What a pleasant surprise!

He tidied his clothes, got out of the car, and asked, “How’s my look? Want to take one with me in it?”

The bearded man looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Mr. Mayor. This series can’t include people. This year’s covers are all landscapes only — no humans. Animals are fine, though.”

“Humans are animals!” a tender little voice shouted — it was Dale, Dale, poking her head out of the car.

The bearded man grinned. “Princess Dale, I can take an artistic portrait for you — if you’d like.”

Wang Bo frowned. What the heck? Even Dale was more popular than him now?

Still, if animals were allowed, that worked. He reached over to grab the parrot colonel from the passenger seat. “Go, buddy, call Little Wang over.”

The parrot flapped its wings and soared away, curiously eyeing the camera setup as it went.

The bearded man clearly knew his research. Recognizing the dog, he said, “That dog can be in the photo — that’s the Ear of God, right? The famous rescue dog who made remarkable contributions in earthquake missions.”

Wang Bo laughed. “Yes, but I’ve got a different star for you.”

The camera was set up near the foot of the mountain. The parrot flew to the castle and soon returned. A shadow on the ground was racing toward them — growing larger and faster.

Little Wang was charging down the slope like thunder — a powerful blur of muscle and motion, wolf-like and fierce!

“My God!”

“What the hell is that thing?”

“Does it eat people? God help us!”

The team gasped in shock. The bearded man immediately dropped to his knees.

Wang Bo thought he’d been scared senseless and rushed to help him up. “Don’t worry, buddy, my liger—”

“Don’t block my view! I’m shooting!” the man roared, shoving Wang Bo aside and snapping photo after photo — click, click, click!

Even under the bright daylight, the flash was dazzling.

Little Wang ran faster at the sight of Wang Bo. The impact of its charge was terrifyingly majestic.  Even though Wang Bo had seen it many times, the primal fear of witnessing a top predator in motion still made his heart tremble.

Fortunately, Little Wang wasn’t truly ferocious — just goofy. But its big head had one problem: too much inertia. When it tried to brake suddenly, its head’s momentum kept going, forcing its body into an awkward tumble.

It rolled several times before stopping right at Wang Bo’s feet, then stood on its hind legs, resting its massive paw on Wang Bo’s shoulder, happily licking his face.

Wang Bo said nothing — he just pushed the beast away with all his might. “Damn it, I just washed my face!”

The bearded man was awestruck. “This liger — it’s the star you mentioned?”

“So? No problem, right?”

“No problem?! I’m going to win a Pulitzer! A liger this strong?! Incredible! I’ve seen its photos online — I thought they were fake composites!”

Eva had no class that morning, so she stayed behind to help guide Little Wang through a few poses for the camera crew. Without her there, they wouldn’t dare shoot.

After all — they were afraid they might end up becoming the meal instead of getting the shot.