Rumble!
Lightning flashed and thunder boomed across the darkened sky, while rain poured down in torrents.
It was only dusk, yet the Human World had already lost all its color.
In the rain, corpse after corpse was carried into the Corpse Refining Courtyard.
Inside the main hall:
The higher-ups of the Corpse Refining Courtyard had gathered.
The atmosphere was a little heavy.
"Esteemed Deacon, are we drawing lots again this time?"
The person in charge of Courtyard No. 6 asked.
"Draw!"
The Esteemed Deacon said, dressed in a yellow robe.
"What the hell are you all getting at?"
Wu Qing glared at his colleagues, who were all retreating in unspoken agreement, and cursed.
He stood there, isolated from everyone else.
"Old Wu, you always cheat, so none of us can draw a lot. To save time, you go first."
The person in charge of Courtyard No. 2 grinned.
"That's right, that's right. You go ahead, Old Wu. Don't be shy."
"We're forfeiting."
The people in charge of Courtyard No. 4 and Courtyard No. 7 spoke up one after the other, their eyes gleaming with mischief.
Cheat, my ass.
And forfeit?
You can even forfeit this?
I want to forfeit too.
As everyone took turns teasing him, Old Wu's expression instantly became indescribably colorful. He wanted to curse them all out.
But he also understood that unless he proved himself, he'd never shake off his reputation as a cheat. And he'd keep getting mocked for it from now on.
"Once or twice, fine. Even three, four, five, six, or seven times could be put down to luck."
"But there's no way I can draw the winning lot every single time."
Old Wu thought to himself.
From the perspective of probability, there was no way he'd draw it this time.
At that