Chapter 138: The Altar of Illusion and Reality
Speak, and drop the act. This squad has no patience to wait for you to dawdle. Although the Lord Provincial Governor did not explicitly order your execution, I am fully capable of inflicting some physical torment upon you before your handover. That much authority I certainly possess. Although a mask obscured the greater part of the leader's face, the playful glint in his eyes was unmistakable.
Yet, in the eyes of this fellow surnamed Bai, this took on an entirely different connotation. He thought to himself: Could this brute have set his sights on my handsome fortune? No, absolutely not! That would simply cost me my life! As he pondered this, he instinctively used his hands to shield the jade pendants and gemstones at his waist and collar. Yet, no matter how he tried to conceal them, he could not mask his aura of unadulterated wealth.
The fellow surnamed Bai spoke up once more: "Now look here, my good brother, I am a man who upholds the ideal of bringing salvation to the masses and rescuing the common people from water and fire. In this floating world of suffering, I alone am capable of resolving doubts and guiding souls. What you previously called charlatanism is nothing short of an insult to my sacred mission, and it wounds me deeply." With that, he managed to squeeze out two tears at his waistline quite naturally, gently wiping them away with his sleeve.
"My word, is he actually putting on a sob story for our captain? Look at those little eyes of his! Hey, brothers, don't let this scoundrel bewitch you. Knock him out first and hand him over to the Lord Provincial Governor for disposition!" The person who spoke was one of the subordinates beside the captain. The reason he spoke thus was because he happened to be one of the victims who had been scammed.
Just thinking about how this hypocritical wretch before him had swindled away every last coin of the private savings he had secretly accumulated over many years, under the pretext of spending money to avert disaster—this was no trifling matter. Ever since he had crossed paths with this fellow surnamed Bai a few days ago, his life had turned into an absolute nightmare.
Whenever he went out, either a bird would shit on his head, or he would lose incessantly at gambling. Ordinarily, his gambling skills were passable; no matter how much he lost, he at least maintained a bottom line. But during those few days, he seemed utterly bewitched—he lost every single bet he placed, yet kept right on betting, completely incapable of controlling his emotions. Had he not starved until he lost consciousness, fainted, and subsequently woken up to realize something was gravely amiss, he would never have resolved to track down the problem-solver.