Chapter 113 Chapter 114 Greed
Jima paused her hand that was striking the water basin, her mind calming down a bit.
To determine whether the other party saw something they shouldn’t have seen is simple—just enter their dream.
If he did see it, then she would arrange for an accident to cause his death. The only thing to be cautious about was not to rush it, lest it arouse Jenna’s suspicion.
Once Jima made up her mind, she tore a small bunch of weeds from beside the blanket, braided them into a bracelet, and dipped it into the water. At the same time, she activated her “simulation” ability, and a white light glowed between her hands, illuminating the entire tent as if a light bulb had been turned on.
Jima imitated the devout voices of the White City Sanctuary believers: “Thank you, God, for blessing my grass ring.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the white light between her hands vanished. She was mimicking George’s ability to manipulate light, which could currently only provide brief illumination, most suitable for creating an illusion.
Jima listened carefully and heard the sound of heavier breathing. It seemed her lie had been heard, and her light had been seen.
She put the damp weed bracelet on her fair wrist, stood up, and after kneeling for too long, her legs went numb. Jima rubbed her legs and waited for the numbness to pass before picking up the water basin and walking out of the tent. Just as she stepped outside, she pretended to trip over something and exclaimed, “Oh no!”
Her entire body stumbled to the side, and the water basin fell, splashing into a dark corner outside the tent.
The cold water drenched the voyeur completely.
Jima shouted, “Is someone there?”
She instinctively covered the weed bracelet on her wrist.
“Miss, don’t be scared, it’s me.” A thin boy stood up from the shadows, shyly smiling at Jima, “I…I came here to catch crickets.”
Jima blinked at him, and the voyeur child’s mind went blank. He closed his eyes and fell asleep while standing.
Jima forcibly pulled him into her dream, diving into his dreamscape, distorting it so he would relive what he just experienced.
In the voyeur child’s dream.
He tiptoed stealthily among patches of black shadows, hiding in the shade next to Jima’s tent. He looked left and right nervously, ignoring Jima who stood right in front of him and pulled out a small knife from his pocket.
Jima’s pure and cute face darkened.
Children of this age typically find summer too hot and end up drowning in the river.
The voyeur child had no awareness that death was imminent. He grabbed the tent and stabbed at it with the knife several times but failed to make a hole. So he put the knife away, covered his mouth, yawned, and quietly crouched in place.
His lack of diligence saved his life.
Jima’s expression softened significantly. She exerted a little force with her legs, jumped back easily, and returned to reality.
In reality.
The voyeur child’s eyelids fluttered. A gust of night wind blew, and he shivered, waking up with a dazed look in his eyes.
Jima immediately asked, “Were you really catching crickets? Didn’t you hear what I said?”
The voyeur child hurriedly touched his heart and swore to the sky, “I swear, I didn’t hear anything. Really, I was just catching a cricket.”
Jima breathed a sigh of relief and appropriately revealed the weed bracelet on her wrist, saying, “Good, because I hate being spied on.”
The voyeur child’s gaze focused on the weed bracelet on Jima’s wrist.
Jima handed the water basin to the voyeur child, saying, “By the way, help me get some water.”
He quickly averted his gaze, took the water basin, and while walking, complimented, “Miss Xiao Qiao, are you also an extraordinary being? That’s amazing, just like Miss Jenna.”
“Yes, yes,” Jima said, “she is my senior, a grade above me.”
“Ah? You also believe in the God of Dawn.”
Jima showed a devout expression, spreading her fingers over her heart and saying, “Yes, I usually don’t pray too actively because I believe that as long as you have faith in your heart, that is enough.”
Along the way, Jima talked a lot more.
In Jima’s narration, she became an orphan raised in the sanctuary, a genius who skipped grades at a young age, acknowledged the saintess Jenna… and contributed greatly to the sanctuary. Recently, she planned to live for herself and travel around the world.
The voyeur child was unusually happy, and after helping Jima fetch water, he hurriedly ran off to report to the mustached steward.
After listening to the voyeur child’s report, the mustached steward smiled broadly and said, “She’s a pure-hearted and kind girl from the sanctuary. It seems her extraordinary ability is similar to the young lady’s, either healing or producing light. By the way, you said she received a blessing?”
“Definitely some good treasure. I witnessed a white light shining in the tent and heard her thanking the divine blessing.”
“That must be an incredible treasure! What does it look like?”
“It looks like a plain-looking grass-woven bracelet,” the child said. “It has to be that one; I saw it all wet, surely soaked in holy water. She mentioned she was pouring out the blessed water earlier.”
The mustached steward asked for the details once more.
“…As soon as she stepped out of the tent, she stumbled and splashed water all over me.”
The mustached steward clapped his hands, saying, “That treasure must bring good luck. If we can get our hands on it, the master will surely be pleased.”
“Steal it?”
“What are you thinking? Didn’t you see how the young lady frightened away a bunch of robbers with just a wave? Never offend an extraordinary being, no matter how kind-hearted she is.” The mustached steward stroked his chin and said, “We need to find an excuse to buy this treasure, keeping the cost as low as possible. Extraordinary beings from the sanctuary are more inclined to give it away for free if you find the right angle.”
Having said that, the mustached steward fixed his eyes on the voyeur child, who stood up straight cautiously and said, “I feel really sleepy; I’m going to sleep now.”
The mustached steward smiled and asked, “Do you want a gold coin?”
“I do, of course!”
“Then make a sacrifice; hurt your leg a bit and say that only with the grass-woven bracelet can it be healed. She’ll surely soften her heart and give it to you.”
“No way, Miss Jenna can heal injuries.”
“I’ll distract her; how would you know if you don’t try? Why are you running?”
“What are you going to do with that stick?”
“Don’t run; think about it. How about I add a copper coin?”
As the mustached steward said this, he chased past a black-haired succubus without noticing her at all.
Jima watched this comical scene, shrugged, and muttered to herself, “Things are going even more smoothly than I expected.”
This was the dream of the mustached steward. After entering the dream, Jima distorted it, making him dream about today.
She lowered her head, looking at the handmade, rough grass-woven bracelet on her wrist. She wondered how much it could sell for in gold coins.
Speaking of money, Jima thought of her own assets.
She directly picked up the pouch attached to her waist, untied it, and poured its contents onto the bed, counting the money right in the mustached steward’s dream.
This pouch of money was what she had just received from Mr. Dong Dong, the money earned from selling Jenna’s “family heirloom sword,” and the profits from selling merchandise during this time.
“One gold coin, two gold coins, three gold coins…” Jima sat cross-legged on the bed, picking up gold coins with her hands while sweeping the counted gold coins to the side with her tail, “Thirty-four gold coins.”
She coiled a silver coin with her tail, “Only three silver coins. The profits from selling books and merchandise have really been low lately. This is considering the money from selling the sword; it’s so little. The gold on top must be just gold-plated.”
Should I diligently write books?
This thought flashed through Jima’s mind, but she shook her head and dismissed it: “Writing books is truly exhausting. The market is already saturated, and besides, the high elves will surely come to their senses. Better not.”
Thinking back to when she went to find Mr. Dong Dong, she had resolutely decided to stop selling books and cut off contact with him.
Jima felt that she was a person who knows when to stop and has a decisive character.
I’m so decisive that the elf queen surely won’t catch me. After all, the book has already stopped printing; now that there are so many pirated copies, the elves probably can’t even find Mr. Dong Dong.
Thinking about the way the foul-mouthed elf queen would be at a loss, Jima chuckled happily, tidied up the money, and left the mustached steward’s dream, returning to her own body.
At the same time.
It was deep in the night.
Mr. Dong Dong suddenly opened his eyes wide awake, the imposing image of the devil from his dream vividly lingering in his mind. He couldn’t help but tremble all over.
If such a terrifying image appeared in his dream, he wondered if he could survive three seconds upon seeing its true form in reality.
It was truly horrifying.
He sat on the bed for a full ten minutes before regaining his senses, recalling the devil’s command.
It ordered him to stop writing books and selling merchandise, saying he had lost his value to serve it and would never seek him again.
Mr. Dong Dong breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as though he had awakened from a nightmare. He glanced at the empty space on the other side of the bed, beginning to miss his wife.
Due to fears of exposing their dealings with the devil and for his wife’s safety, they had been sleeping in separate rooms for months.
Mr. Dong Dong felt a sense of relief as he got out of bed, opened the door, and took a bottle of White Sand wine from his newly bought cupboard. Since the war in Shalin City and the destruction of the White Sand Winery, this hangover-free fine wine had increased in price by tenfold.
In the past, Mr. Dong Dong would never have been so extravagant. But after spreading the devil’s demon manual, his income had surged.
Mr. Dong Dong poured himself a glass of wine, lifted it to the moonlight, and slowly drank the slightly sweet liquid. Just as he was about to pour another glass for himself, he realized that the bottle had mysteriously dwindled to just one glass left; if he drank any more, it would be empty.
He hadn’t had enough to drink.
Mr. Dong Dong set down the wine bottle, picked up the cork, and stared at the bottle’s opening. He realized that without the devil’s share, his income would plummet from here on out, and he would never buy another bottle of White Sand wine again.
No matter how frugal he tried to be, it wouldn’t change the fact that this was his last glass of wine.
Why can’t I continue selling the demon manual? There are still so many people printing it in the market; it wouldn’t make a difference whether I joined or not. Moreover, I’m selling the authentic version and wouldn’t need to pay the devil a share.
Mr. Dong Dong’s hand holding the cork stopped in mid-air. Suddenly, he threw the cork away, seized the wine bottle, and gulped it down all at once, smashing it onto the table with a loud “thud.”
His wife’s voice came from upstairs, “What are you making noise about in the middle of the night?”
Mr. Dong Dong inexplicably felt exhilarated, saying, “Got it!”
He remembered he had a friend who was a book merchant. Previously, he didn’t contact him for fear of overdoing it in selling the demon manual.
This time he aimed to strike it big. He would print thousands of copies with “Genuine” imprinted in large letters on the cover to reduce costs with quantity, capturing the entire market with quality and low prices.
Decided!
