Chapter 52: After running thirty laps, you’re not allowed to argue with the artist!

After Atiste said those words, all four of them froze at once.

“W-Way of the underworld rules?”

the younger one’s voice trembled a little.

“What underworld rules? We’ve never heard of that.”

“Never heard of them?”

Atiste tilted his head.

“Then today you can experience them firsthand.”

He took a step forward.

All four of them jumped back at the same time.

Perfectly synchronized, as if they’d rehearsed it.

Atiste sighed.

He really hadn’t wanted to go through all this trouble.

He’d already gotten the Naga Scale Powder.

He could just leave.

But these idiots had actually spilled the Naga Scale Powder on the ground.

What a waste.

“You four,” Atiste said, “do you know how to use Naga Scale Powder?”

The four exchanged glances.

“How to use it?”

the younger one asked reflexively.

Atiste didn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled a small book from his pocket—Treant’s Proverbs—flipped to a page, and read aloud: “Standing on a forked road, it’s almost impossible to move; standing at a crossroads, there are many paths to take.”

The four stared at him, their expressions shifting from wariness to confusion.

What the hell was this guy doing?

Robbing them, and now he was reading a book?

Seeing that these fools still didn’t get it, Atiste put the book away and pulled out a small vial from another pocket.

Inside the vial was a pale blue liquid, faintly glowing in the firelight.

“Do you know what this is?”

The four shook their heads.

“This is Truth Serum,” Atiste said.

“After you drink it, I ask, you answer. If you don’t answer… well, who knows what might happen.”

The younger one’s face turned pale.

“Y-You’re going to use that on us? That stuff is illegal!”

Atiste looked at him, silent for two seconds.

“You just said that Hero was almost beaten to death by you,” he said slowly.

“You rob, you injure, you ambush people outside the city. And now you’re talking to me about illegal?”

The younger one shut his mouth.

The one with the low voice stepped forward.

“What exactly do you want? You’ve already taken the goods. We admit defeat. You go your way, we go ours. Water in the well doesn’t interfere with river water—”

“No.”

Atiste cut him off.

“You’ve seen my face.”

The four froze.

“Way of the underworld rules,” Atiste said.

“If you’ve seen my face, either gouge out your eyes or take off your heads. Pick one.”

The one holding the Magic Staff trembled, almost dropping it.

“Y-You said you wouldn’t kill anyone!”

the younger one’s voice cracked.

“I said I wouldn’t kill,” Atiste said with a slight smile.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take action.”

He put the Truth Serum vial away and swapped it for something else.

This time, it was a small bell.

Made of copper, very old, with a layer of patina on the surface.

Atiste shook the bell.

Ding.

A light sound.

Crisp, clean, echoing several times in the empty hall.

All four of them swayed simultaneously.

“Wh-What is that…”

the one with the dagger spoke for the first time, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping.

“Soul-Bewildering Bell,” Atiste said.

“Heard of it?”

The four shook their heads.

“Then that’s settled.”

Atiste shook it again.

Ding.

This time, their eyes began to glaze over.

The younger one’s mouth hung slightly open, drool dripping from the corner of his lips without him noticing.

“You four,” Atiste said slowly and deliberately, “starting now, I ask, you answer. After you answer, you forget. After you forget, you’ll think you just went out for a walk today and did nothing.”

He paused, then added, “Of course, the stuff you robbed is also gone. That’s natural loss, nothing to do with you.”

The four stood woodenly, their weapons hanging at their sides, their eyes hollow.

Atiste nodded in satisfaction.

He’d stolen this bell from a traveling merchant decades ago, and had never had a chance to use it.

Today, it had finally come in handy.

“First question,” he said.

“Who do you work for?”

“Muse Kingdom… Third Knight Order…”

the younger one answered mechanically.

“Retired Knights…”

“Retired and still wearing robes to ambush people?”

“Short on cash…”

the one with the Magic Staff said.

“The Knight Order’s pension… isn’t enough to live on…”

Atiste paused for a moment.

A legitimate Kingdom Knight, reduced to robbery after retirement.

The financial state of Muse Kingdom was looking grim.

“Second question,” he said.

“How did you know the Hero had Naga Scale Powder?”

“Black Market…”

the one with the low voice said.

“Someone put out word… that the Hero of Aoyi City had some… so we…”

“So you robbed him?”

“Yeah.”

Atiste nodded.

The trail was cold.

News from the Black Market meant the source would be hard to trace.

But he didn’t really care.

As long as the goods were in hand.

“Third question,” he said.

“What’s the meaning of spilling the Naga Scale Powder on the ground?”

All four showed confused expressions.

“Testing…”

the one with the Arcane Compass said.

“Naga Scale Powder changes color when exposed to fire… We spilled it on the ground… so we could light a fire to test if it was real…”

Atiste looked down at the powder on the floor.

Sure enough, the edges of some of the powder had scorch marks.

He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.

What a waste.

An absolute waste!

“Last question,” he said.

“When you attacked that Hero, did you touch a little girl from the Fox Tribe?”

The four thought for a moment.

“No…”

the younger one said.

“We were staking her out… As soon as she showed up, we ambushed her…”

Atiste breathed a sigh of relief.

At least Su’er wasn’t hurt.

That girl might be naive, but it was exactly that kind of pure, foolish nature that might come in handy later.

He shook the bell.

Then shook it again.

Three times in a row.

Ding—Ding—Ding.

After the three sounds, their eyes regained some life, but they were still dazed.

“Alright,” Atiste said, putting the bell away.

“Now go outside and run thirty laps around this manor. After you finish, go home and sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, you’ll forget everything that happened today.”

The four turned mechanically, lined up, and walked toward the door.

As they reached the door, the younger one suddenly stopped and turned back to ask, “You… who exactly are you?”

Atiste thought for a moment.

“A passing Artist.”

The younger one nodded, turned, and left.

Atiste stood there, watching their figures disappear into the night.

He shook his head and turned to walk out.

As he reached the door, he suddenly remembered something—the Arcane Compass.

He looked back.

The compass was still on the floor.

The one holding it had dropped it when the bell had dazed him.

Atiste walked back, picked up the compass, and weighed it in his hand.

Good craftsmanship, the needle was very sensitive.

It should be a quality item.

“I’ll take it back and study it.”

He stuffed the compass into his pocket, next to the Treant’s Proverbs.

Then he walked out of the manor and looked up at the sky.

The moon showed half its face from behind the clouds, coldly illuminating the earth.

The Naga Scale Powder was in hand.

The black-robed men were dealt with.

Time to go back and continue researching the Soul Swap Art.

He thought for a moment, then remembered that he’d left Rena outside the city.

‘She should be fine,’ he thought.

‘I gave her medicine. She won’t die.’

He walked a few more steps, then remembered that Su’er was still sleeping in Rena’s bed.

‘That girl…’

He thought about it and figured it was fine.

He had a mark on her, so she wouldn’t be lost.

He walked a few more steps, then stopped.

“Forget it,” he sighed, turning back toward Aoyi City.

“I’ll deal with those two girls first, then go back to my books.”

He quickened his pace and disappeared into the night.

Behind him, in the hall of the Abandoned Manor, four black-robed men were running laps around the manor, panting heavily, but none dared to stop.

Because the only command in their minds was: run thirty laps, forget today, go home and sleep.