The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 308

Chapter 308 Blacklist

Chapter 308 Blacklist

The scene made every onlooker hold their breath.

Seeing this, Sherry quickly pulled Whitney along and followed after her parents.

But in the very next second-

Thud!

A dull sound rang out.

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Sherry, who was half a step ahead, passed through the invisible boundary without any trouble. Her figure flickered slightly as she stepped into the farm

But Whitney, stil earlier char

hands sli

her hand, slammed straight into the transparent barrier. The impact was not as strong as Kaleb’s to make her shoulder ache sharply. She let out a small cry and was pushed back two steps. Their

She

clu

now. She suddenly felt her hand go empty and turned back in confusion. Whitney was still outside, d looking dazed, as if separated by an invisible wall.

ou-” Sherry had no idea what had just hap

the right moment. “Miss, your reservation

ree people. This young lady is not on the list, so she

parrassment and apology crossed Sherry

bbed her still-aching shoulder and force

them. People who had reservations wa

kay, I didn’t understand the situation

y glanced at her parents, who ked outside. For a moment

he end, she spoke thro

hitney nodded, lett

eing some

Whitney. I thought…”

eart felt far worse.

m, stuck outside, just watching.

a reservation in advance.”

Inside, then looked back at Whitney and the many others still

ke a move first. Keep in touch.”

position as uninvited guests feel even more awkward.

Γ

n more complicated emotions.

ogether.

voice sounded over the broadcast system.

of the farm, Elizabeth”

alt

10:05 am P

M

Chapter 308 Blacklist

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It was Elizabeth’s voice.

She did not appear in person, yerit felt as if she was everywhere.

The noise died down instantly. Everyone instinctively looked up, searching for the source of the voice. Even Kaleb and Levi, who had been rubbing their sore arms and legs, fett silent.

“Welcome, all of you who have come from afar and taken an interest in my farm,” Elizabeth continued. Her tone was polite, but beneath that politeness lay unmistakable distance and authority. “However, the farm has its rules. We operate strictly by reservation and only receive guests who have successfully booked through official channels. Anyone without a valid reservation will not be admitted.”

Her words were like cold water poured over their heads. Many of the young heirs who had assumed they could simply walk in or buy their way through were left stunned.

“Reservation? What reservation?”

“How do we even make one?”

“We came all this way. Are you really just going to send us back?”

A low buzz of discussion spread through the crowd, along with growing frustration and anxiety.

They had come with tasks from their families. How were they supposed to return empty-handed?

As if in response to these questions, Fiona appeared, accompanied by two farm workers carrying a simple folding table and chairs.

They moved at an unhurried pace and set up the table at the edge of the farm.

Fiona took a seat behind it, opened her portable device, adjusted the screen, and then lifted her gaze to calmly sweep over the visitors, each with their own expression.

“Guests who wish to make a reservation may come here to register,” she said politely.

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