Young Man, Let's Play Cards

"Floor it! Floor it!!"

"Reporting, sir, I've already floored it to the gas tank—"

After making emergency U-turns, the military SUVs all sped away at full throttle, engines howling.

Yet their struggle was futile, because behind those military vehicles came a sandstorm, layer upon layer, surging like ocean waves!

The colossal sandstorm, over a hundred meters high, rolled over them without mercy. The roaring engines vanished, and the shouting soldiers vanished. Only the surging yellow sand gradually settled, leaving the boy who drifted down from above with a complicated expression.

The next second, his face changed, returning to lofty indifference.

"Essence of flesh and blood, come!"

As the boy, suddenly turned cold and detached, raised a hand and grabbed, streams of faint red vapor drifted over and fell into his palm.

"Not enough, not enough! Far too weak!"

The cold boy shook his hand in displeasure. He was the greatest High Priest of Thebes; the essence of these mortals was, to him, like the Theban proverb: trying to fill the sky with grains of desert sand.

After venting his frustration, he closed his eyes to sense the surroundings again, only for his brow to furrow even deeper.

"The Spiritual Power in this world is so thin."

"Boy, are there any stronger divine-blooded beastkin nearby?"

"Ah? My lord, were you asking me?"

The next second, the once lofty boy's face became cautious.

"Well, there probably isn't anything nearby that you need."

That was right. This "resurrected" High Priest Imhotep currently had no physical body. His flesh had long been devoured clean during three thousand years of the "insect-devouring punishment," and now his soul merely resided within Amir's body.

"What?!"

The boy suddenly switched to ancient Egyptian, his tone displeased.

"Without enough essence of flesh and blood, I cannot construct my own