Esoteric Buddhism: To live as king in America

Coleman was a long-time employee of the Donna Hotel. His seniority gave him a deeper understanding of the hotel, a more familiarity with how to handle situations, and—a deeper arrogance—than anyone who had been temporarily transferred there.

Humans are like this: the more familiar they are with a field, the more they tend to act based on experience rather than facts. This is a kind of mental inertia, and it is precisely this inertia that Mian will exploit.

Faced with Mian's suggestion, the person in charge, whose hair was already turning mostly white, first fell into thought, but soon nodded slowly.

At this very moment, a great many important figures have gathered in the front hall. Although many of them are merely ordinary people, in this era when esoteric Buddhism is forbidden, they still wield considerable influence.

Coleman absolutely didn't want these two idiots to spoil the fun for these important figures. As for the secret next to the monitoring room... it had always been well-protected and had never had any problems.

Even at this point in time when superhumans might infiltrate, and everything should be done with caution, the superhuman materials stored there, while valuable, aren't worth risking breaking in to steal. As for the other "luxury goods"—which superhuman would care about those things anyway?

No problem, let's go there and solve this problem.

Thinking this, Coleman turned his gaze back to the slick-back-haired rich kid to the side.

"What do you think, Mr. Monroe?"

The rich kid, who was already somewhat intimidated by the word "duel," readily nodded in agreement when he heard about this bloodless and trouble-free solution.

Coleman then turned to the two of them and gestured for them to proceed.

"Then please, you two. I will enable surveillance for you to resolve this issue."

Coleman walked toward the target monitoring room, and Mian immediately followed, reminding Ryan in his consciousness space at the same time.

"Ready?"

"You don't need to tell me."

Ryan crossed his two fair arms and retorted to Mian in an extremely impatient voice.

This seemingly tsundere girl genuinely wanted to find the children. But whether she could actually do it, Mian could only pray.

Coleman pushed open the heavy door to the monitoring room with a blank expression, and a suffocating air mixed with heat from electronic equipment and dust rushed out.

"This is it, Mr. Hall, Mr. Monroe."

Coleman's voice was flat and emotionless. He walked to the main control panel and gave the operator the following command:

"Retrieve surveillance footage from ten minutes ago in the northwest corner of the lobby, near the champagne tower, with the time accurate to the second."

"Yes, Mr. Matvey."

The operator's fingers flew across the keyboard.

Seeing that the other party was so well prepared, Mian followed closely behind and stepped into the room. Almost at the same time, an indescribable chill instantly gripped him.

It wasn't a physical temperature drop, but a kind of isolation at the soul level. Ryan's inner voice in the space of consciousness—whether complaining, mocking, or occasionally tense—vanished instantly like a cut-off current, leaving only a deathly silence.

She went out.

Mian's heart skipped a beat, knowing that Ryan had begun her spiritual exploration as planned. He remained outwardly calm, maintaining the slightly resentful expression of "Rayman Hall" from their argument. His performance had to continue to save the children.

…………

"Ugh—"

The moment she left Mian's body, an unexpected, excruciating pain swept over her, as if it were tearing Ryan's invisible form apart. She let out a wail that no one could hear.

This feeling was so wrong! As a "fisherman" in her previous life, out-of-body exploration was not routine for her, but it was certainly not unfamiliar either. Back then, the feeling of being out of body was light and detached, carrying a sense of transcendence over the material world. But now, every "movement," every "penetration" through a physical wall, felt like countless red-hot, blunt knives scraping and tearing at her spiritual core.

Was it because… he had died once? Ryan pondered with difficulty amidst the throes of excruciating pain. Was this reconstructed soul far less resilient and complete than it had been in life? Or was this damned hotel itself shrouded in some invisible force field that suppressed spirits?

"Damn Mian... damn mission... damn nudism..." The excruciating pain made her curse in her mind, cursing everything she could think of. Resentment towards Mian, resentment at her own weakness, and physical disgust at the increasingly strong stench intertwined.

But despite her cursing, Ryan didn't stop moving. She didn't want to be looked down upon by that bastard, and at the same time, she had to admit that she might indeed have a little pity for those children…

Enduring excruciating pain, as if being slowly sliced ​​to death, Ryan, like a fish swimming upstream, struggled to "swim" towards the core of the "stench" in his soul's perception.

Penetrating the last layer of cold concrete wall and completely leaving the monitoring room, the scene before my eyes suddenly changed.

This is a secluded storage room that clashes with the hotel's luxurious style. There are no windows, only a few pale, cold lights for illumination.

The air was thick with a pungent, almost tangible, stench of decay and some indescribable blasphemous smell—it was this smell that made Ryan's soul so tormented and "nauseous".

The storage room was filled with all sorts of strangely shaped "items" that emitted a faint or ominous glow.

Twisted roots, seemingly alive; viscous liquid in crystal bottles, appearing to be alive; shimmering minerals; strangely tanned leather; and... a whole jar, no, several large jars, filled with viscous blood, dark as ink yet faintly tinged with eerie iridescence.

The source of that pungent, nauseating stench was precisely this. The surface of the earthenware pot was engraved with intricate runes, seemingly suppressing the violent energy contained within.

Looking at the mountain of extraordinary materials before him, Ryan's soul trembled violently. An overwhelming bitterness and jealousy surged up within him.

So many...so many resources!

She cried out silently. If... if she and her teacher had possessed even a small part of it back then... those explorations deep into the [deep sea], those dangerous rituals performed for power, wouldn't they have had more security?

Wouldn't the teacher... ultimately perish in that twisted darkness?

She and her teacher struggled to survive on the edge of a hidden world like scavengers, while an organization like the Nativity could pile up such precious resources in a warehouse like garbage.

There is truly nothing more unfair in the world.

Anger surged within her, almost overwhelming her reason. But Ryan managed to fiddle with the hilt of the dagger against her chest, and the more intense tearing pain temporarily brought her back to her senses.

The physical body serves far more than simply providing a dwelling place for the soul for those who are extraordinary. Without a physical body, a soul adrift in the world is at risk of becoming completely lost due to emotional fluctuations.

Even though Ryan was prepared, he almost got caught up in it. No wonder that there are always plenty of "fishermen," but almost no one uses the extremely difficult-to-detect practical technique of astral projection.

"...I'm not here to be jealous, Ryan."

She whispered admonitions to herself from the depths of her soul, thus maintaining her sanity.

"Find those children...and get out of this hellhole!"

She forced her gaze away from the coveted yet hateful pile of materials, her spirit passing through the other wall of the storage room. She couldn't travel too far, but thankfully, it seemed, as Mian had said, that the child was hidden just inches away from the materials.

The stench emanating from the blood in the earthenware pot was less intense here, replaced by a deeper, more desperate atmosphere—a mixture of fear, numbness, and the faint, flickering life force unique to children.

Ryan forced his eyes open in the hazy state characteristic of his soul, and then he saw a sight he would likely never forget for the rest of his life.