The unlucky fellow received the director of the Ministry of Personnel's orders and set off for the western storehouse to collect the precious [Flesh and Blood Creation] treasure.
He presented the written order. The storehouse keepers, accountants, and others checked it repeatedly before bringing him a treasure.
The unlucky fellow looked at it, bewildered. "My lords, this isn't the precious [Flesh and Blood Creation] treasure."
The storehouse keeper sneered. "There's no [Flesh and Blood Creation], only [Flesh and Blood Hardening]."
"Just tell us whether you want it."
The unlucky fellow sneered. "You deceive those above and below you, passing off inferior goods as the real thing. Aren't you afraid I'll report you to His Lordship the Director? Aren't you afraid of holding up His Lordship's important business?"
The storehouse keepers exchanged glances, pinned the unlucky fellow down, and gave him a savage beating.
Bang! Bang! Smack!
Under a barrage of punches and kicks, the unlucky fellow cried, "Stop hitting me! I won't report you!"
Ptooey!
The storehouse keeper spat. "You're only dealing with a bunch of mud-legged natives down below. There's no need for anything good."
"Besides, [Flesh and Blood Hardening] is a fine treasure too."
"It's more than enough for you to throw your weight around in the Mortal World."
The unlucky fellow nodded repeatedly.
An accountant beside them took a sip of tea and said calmly, "His Lordship the Director is busy with official business. He doesn't know the storehouse's actual situation."
"Do you really think we withheld that treasure?"
"Wrong. Utterly wrong!"
"Over ten thousand years ago, His Lordship gave that treasure away while sending gifts to grease palms."
"Now there's nothing but a pile of scrap metal left in the storehouse."
"So we can only ease His Lordship's burdens this way."
The unlucky fellow nodded again