Chapter 97: Let You Hang Like a Damn Sunny Day Doll
The blonde woman shuddered and shook her head repeatedly.
Triangle-eyes also shook her head repeatedly, as if this compensation were some kind of poison.
The several companions didn't seem as fearful. They just listened to the two women's words, but that didn't mean they had no opinions.
Among them, a man with a tattooed face suddenly cursed in a low voice: "Bitch!"
Caesar's eyes narrowed slightly, sharply looking toward the tattooed man.
Beth, standing not a few meters behind the several people, naturally also heard the tattooed man's voice.
The tattooed man didn't care about his companions' reproachful stares—they didn't care about his survival, only worried about being implicated themselves.
Rip's bear-like broad body was about to charge forward immediately. Beth slapped one hand against Rip's chest, her eyes telling Rip she'd handle this herself.
Beth walked behind the tattooed man, bracing both hands on his chair back, her tone ice-cold as she said:
"You think what would happen if you don't sell us the ranch?"
"Within an hour, your ranch fence will be torn down."
"Your cattle and sheep will be seized, your food will be taken, and then you?"
"We'll lasso your necks, drag you behind horses back to Caesar's ranch, then hang you up and let you dangle there like a damn sunny day doll."
Beth's tone was like winter's fierce wind, coldly slapping against the several people's faces, especially the tattooed man.
Listening to Beth's description, the tattooed man could imagine himself hanging from a tree, his back bloody and mangled, pain sweeping through his entire body, vultures waiting for his death, the dripping blood attracting walkers.
They'd all wait for his death, then feast.
The tattooed man's body began trembling. Then he heard Beth's voice.
"But now, we've spared your lives, even decided to give you compensation, even let you join us."
"Your wife and children are still alive. You're still alive. Shouldn't you speak a bit more politely?"
The tattooed man fearfully uttered two words: "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Beth straightened her body, calmly saying: "You're welcome."
The show was over.
Caesar stood up. The gaze beneath his cowboy hat fell on the several people. He reached out and tapped the table.
"This is the first time, and also the last time."
"Offend high-level ranch personnel, and I'll hang you in the middle of town and let everyone see your miserable state."
Finished speaking, Caesar patted Morales's shoulder and walked out of the wooden house.
Glenn and his squad members followed him out, leaving Morales to communicate with them about the plan to relocate to town.
Stepping out of the house, Caesar walked to the vehicle and looked up at Rip approaching. "Beth isn't angry, is she?"
Rip smiled. On his rough face you could see a trace of pride.
"Her previous work was destroying other people's companies. The abuse she's received was much worse than this. To her, it's all small stuff."
"If she was really unhappy, she would've had me twist off that person's shoulder and neck right then."
Caesar spread his hands. "Worthy of you two indeed."
Just then, a lightning-fast sound appeared on the horizon, accompanied by a roaring engine sound.
Caesar looked over first. It was actually a motorcycle.
Looking again, it was actually Daryl.
"Daryl? What's he coming here for?" Caesar muttered in confusion.
The motorcycle sound also attracted Glenn's squad's attention. Glenn raised his hand. "Alert status!"
Glenn's squad members quickly moved forward, leaning against the pickups or relying on other cover, extending their guns to aim at the rapidly advancing figure.
Glenn calmly aimed at the target, clearly a qualified squad leader.
Caesar felt somewhat moved by Glenn's growth. He walked over and patted Glenn's shoulder, speaking: "That's Daryl. Put the guns down."
Glenn froze for a moment but didn't question it. He raised his hand again. "Alert status lifted."
The other members also stopped being vigilant, spreading out to the surroundings, surrounding Caesar and the others. Their gazes occasionally glanced at the approaching Daryl.
Daryl wore windproof goggles, stylishly fishtailed his stop, splashing up a wave of mud, and raised his chin.
Caesar had foresight and dodged to the side first.
Only the two unlucky ones, Rip and Glenn, got hit. The two didn't care about Daryl at all, immediately charging forward to pull Daryl off the motorcycle and pressing him to the ground to rub his face in it.
"Hey, hey. I didn't do it on purpose, let me go..."
"Damn it, where the hell are you touching?"
"..."
The three tumbled into chaos. Beth stood not far away and hadn't been hit. Watching the rarely childish Rip, she laughed heartily.
Caesar walked to Beth's side, also watching the three with her. "So, do you two have plans to get married?"
"Married?" Beth looked at Caesar in confusion. "In this goddamn apocalypse?"
Caesar tilted his head. "Why not?"
"There'll come a day when you'll think, ah, this day is one damn fine day to get married."
"Believe me. Kidnap a priest, hold a wedding ceremony, and you'll be satisfied with that wedding for the rest of your life."
"I like this wedding ceremony." The corners of Beth's mouth lifted in a smile. Her gaze looked at Rip again, but this time it held something deeper.
Caesar didn't say anything more.
After the three separated, Caesar walked forward.
When Daryl had left, he'd worn the clean leather jacket Carol had cleaned. Now it was covered with much grass, and even his head was all disheveled.
Daryl's windproof goggles pressed both eyes until they looked like someone had punched them. He looked utterly miserable.
"Did you come here for something?" Caesar asked.
Daryl raised his head, looking at the sky, as if lamenting how blue the sky was, how white the clouds were.
Like he hadn't heard Caesar's question at all.
Caesar froze for a moment, then smiled. "Alright, alright, alright, I won't ask. Whatever you want to do, go do it."
Caesar waved his hand, gathering Rip and Glenn over. He put his arms around their shoulders and said in a low voice: "In a bit, you two pay attention to what Daryl's trying to do."
"So mysterious." Rip said.
"I suspect Daryl's in love."
Glenn held up one finger, having arrived at a marvelous guess.
Caesar thought about it. That possibility was too low. In his impression, Daryl had only been in love twice.
And that was over more than ten years. How could he encounter love so easily?
Not thinking more about it, Caesar, Glenn, and Rip leaned against the pickup truck, staring at Daryl the whole time.
Daryl very naturally walked into the house with the same hand and foot forward, his posture strange, like speed walking.
Caesar was about to pull the two toward the house when he saw a black man in a bulletproof vest to the side.
That black man wasn't tall, his build wasn't imposing either—could only be considered a middle-aged man's common physique.