"No way! You're very skilled and experienced, sir. I just happened to have guessed it right. It's pure luck!" the weasel said flatteringly with a laugh.
Seeing no monkeys had arrived yet, Remus turned to look at the weasel. Despite the weasels' reputation for being troublemakers in the Mortal Realm, Remus thought this one was quite cute when he took a closer look. At the very least, it was funny.
Remus asked, "It seems like you've already cultivated for 300 years and gained quite a bit of devotion from helping people with fortune-telling. So, why are you in the Underworld?"
It seemed like this weasel rarely died, not only because it was inherently clever, but also because in some places, its species was revered as a symbol of faith. Humans generally wouldn't dare disturb weasels.
"Oh, I was just caught off guard. I feel like crying just talking about it." It sighed and shook its head. "That night, I had already snuck into the yard, planning to have a feast under the cover of darkness..."
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