The Black-Clothed Man's body turned cold, as though he had fallen into an ice cellar.
He opened his mouth to speak, yet not a sound emerged. His face could not help but fill with terror.
The monk said with a compassionate expression, "Benefactor, do not be afraid. This poor monk is a man of the cloth, with compassion in his heart. After the Soul Searching, I shall personally deliver you beyond salvation and free you from this Bitter Sea of the mortal world."
Amid that warm and kindly voice, the Black-Clothed Man's soul suffered excruciating pain. His vision went dark, and he lost consciousness.
A while later.
The monk withdrew his Divine Sense and murmured, "The great hidden live in the city; the lesser hidden dwell in the wilderness. To think Paradise of Ultimate Bliss's old nest is located within a mundane gambling house—how unexpected."
A wisp of pure, sacred Buddhist flame emerged at his fingertips, and the Black-Clothed Man instantly turned to ashes and vanished.
Late at night.
The city's lights were sparse and dim.
The barefooted monk, dressed in hemp robes and wearing a bamboo hat, strolled into a secluded alley.
At the end of the alley stood a gambling house. Even in the dead of night, it remained filled with clamor and unprecedented bustle.
When the monk arrived at the entrance, an attendant asked teasingly, "Monk, are you here to gamble or borrow money?"
The monk smiled. "I'm selling knives on credit."
The attendant's pupils contracted. He put away his playful expression and said, "Our gambling house does not extend credit."
The monk said, "Stake your life. No taking back your hand once the wager is set."
"Wait here."
The attendant turned and entered the gambling house.
Before long, a white-haired old man emerged. After sizing up