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The man in black felt a chill course through him, as if he’d been plunged into an icy abyss.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he couldn’t even utter a peep. Terror was written all over his face.
The monk said with pity, “Don’t be afraid, benefactor. I am a monk with compassion in my heart. Once I’ve searched your soul, I’ll personally grant you release from the endless strife of worldly affairs.”
A gentle gatha[1] rang out, and the man in black felt a piercing pain in his soul. Everything went black, and he lost all awareness.
Shortly afterward.
The monk withdrew his divine sense and whispered, “They say that a lesser hermit secludes himself in the wilderness, while a greater hermit can seclude himself even in a city. It turns out that the Blissful Heavens’ base is in a mundane gambling house. I wouldn’t have expected that.”
A bundle of pure, holy nirvanic flames surged at his fingertip, instantly reducing the man in black to ash.
…
Late at night, as the lamplight dwindled.
A barefoot monk in hemp clothes and a conical hat strolled confidently down a remote alleyway.
Deep into the alley, far from the main streets, there was a gambling...
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