When Zhang Yang finished speaking, he keenly noticed that beneath the big man's rock-like body, something had finally shifted.
So he smiled in satisfaction. That's more like it. An opponent who seems to possess a divine office is practically the Mountain God's best source of faith incense power!
If he could conquer this man's soul, the gains would be no less than those from dozens, or even hundreds, of ordinary believers.
But likewise, such a task would be extraordinarily difficult.
Killing was easy, but winning someone's heart was hard—especially when that someone was a devout believer with steadfast faith, excellent self-discipline, and an iron will.
Quietly retreating a step, Zhang Yang entered the cowhide tent. Still on guard, he held his spear in one hand and slowly picked up the well-maintained crossbow. Then, remaining vigilant, he left and placed the crossbow ten meters away.
Throughout the entire process, he stayed ready to attack the big man at any moment. That was his bottom line. He was weak now and could not put himself in danger.
At the same time, however, he could not let the big man fall into complete despair. Otherwise, if he simply killed himself, there would be no fun left.
In short, this was an extremely delicate war of wills.
After that, the big man remained utterly motionless, as if he had truly accepted his fate and despaired, allowing Zhang Yang to haul away the items in his tent as though mice were moving house.
But Zhang Yang himself knew clearly that the big man was waiting for an opportunity.
This was a man whose bones were harder than steel. He had held on to the hope of survival beneath a terrifying plague.
He could also endure Zhang Yang's temptation without even bothering to pretend to cooperate,