Ammon's Great Adventure (9)

In the end, Sister Qiong and A Liang found no trace of any problem, yet that eerie feeling simply would not go away. At first, it had been confined to the warehouse, but as time passed, that sense of discord had begun spreading outward.

As human traffickers, Sister Qiong and A Liang knew perfectly well what kind of work they were doing. As the saying went, those with no guilty conscience need not fear a knock at the door in the dead of night—and the reverse was true as well. After doing enough shameful things, most people, aside from the rare born villain, would inevitably feel some unease.

And Ammon had made use of precisely that unease.

What he had done was actually very simple, if one insisted on putting it that way: he had made "minor adjustments" to the positions of certain objects.

Human senses could sometimes be sharper than people imagined. Even differences invisible to the naked eye could create subconscious discomfort—for example, a chair with its settings adjusted slightly, a mouse with its frame rate altered just a little, or a picture frame tilted one degree to the left. Things like that could make a person feel subtly uncomfortable the moment they sat down.

(Don't say humans can't sense it. A skilled fitter can feel tiny deviations with his hands that a machine would need ages to inspect. The human body is damn well far more amazing than you think.)

Of course, the adjustments could not be too excessive, or they would be noticed outright. Only a god of mischief like Ammon, who had spent thousands of years as a Con Sorter and deeply understood how to frighten people more effectively, could use a Marauder's supremely nimble hands to arrange something like this.

As Sister Qiong and