Esoteric Buddhism: To live as king in America

"I apologize once again, but I cannot enter the auction house with you. I have special markings embedded in my body, and no matter how well I disguise myself, I cannot hide it from that old bishop."

Toby apologized with a smile, while pointing to the clock next to him, which showed exactly 10 o'clock.

"It's time for you to depart."

Mian said nothing, but left Toby and walked straight towards the auction venue.

Both he and the original owner of this body were ordinary people who had never participated in such a high-end auction before. In addition to the nervousness of sneaking in, they couldn't help but feel a little bit of anticipation.

But after actually passing the inspection and receiving some small props to enter, Mian felt somewhat disappointed.

What I saw before me was almost identical to what I had seen on television. Perhaps because the venue was not a dedicated auction house but a banquet hall that had been temporarily converted, the entire auction house even appeared somewhat rough.

A few tables and chairs evenly placed around the venue, plus a slightly elevated platform, that was all there was to the auction. Although the hotel itself wasn't exactly unluxurious, Mian felt a sense of awkwardness, as if the overall ambiance came more from the people there than from the space itself.

However, this does not affect the overall situation.

Mian told herself this and composed herself in her disappointment.

Matt wasn't planning on doing anything at the auction, and neither was Mian.

He only needed to get through the auction unscathed, and then find an opportunity to rescue the children around noon. After that, whatever trouble Matt or other superhumans caused with the Heaven and Earth Cult would be none of Mian's concern.

It is important for people to know their own limitations. Mian is not a superman, and he has no obligation to do everything perfectly.

At that moment, some commotion arose from the direction of the auction platform. Mian saw that the noble ladies and wealthy merchants around her had stopped talking, put down their wine glasses, and all turned their gazes toward the platform.

This struck Mian as odd. It was obvious that a significant number of people present were there simply to socialize with those they rarely saw, showing little interest in the auction items, which were essentially nothing more than a money-grabbing scam. Yet now, even these people were all tilting their heads, their eyes gleaming with excitement, as if they were on a pilgrimage.

What exactly happened? Was it because there were some special items in this auction, or... was there some special person?

"Tap, tap."

Clear footsteps came from behind the screens temporarily set up by the staff to isolate the area, carrying an air of unhurried composure, elegance, and nobility as they gradually ascended the platform.

An elderly man with white hair and beard appeared amidst the expectant gazes of the crowd. He was not dressed in lavish attire, but in a simple black suit. He had no retinue of followers; he appeared alone.

But the instant he appeared, the moment Mian saw his face clearly, a bolt of lightning seemed to strike Mian's skull, awakening the original owner's deepest memories.

At this very moment, the old man standing on the high platform is a financier from the Black Tower "Wall Street," a passionate orator on television, a supporter in a senator's home, and a philanthropist in the slums...

He is by no means a "skin-changer," but his identity is more than that of a skin-changer. He is by no means a "moth," but his voice can deceive more people.

That man was April Stein, but the people of Freedom always called him by a seemingly unrelated, yet surprisingly fitting, nickname. That nickname was—

"King of Parties".

The cheat system, which hadn't seemed to show its presence for a long time, silently unleashed its power. The real scene gradually dissolved in front of Mi'an, revealing a completely different appearance.

The magnificent hotel vanished, replaced by a dark and gloomy dragon's lair. There were no gentlemen or noblewomen, only walking corpses, demons, and monsters everywhere. At this moment, they all knelt on the ground, welcoming the arrival of their master—the dragon king who dwells atop the golden mountain.

Shock and trembling were indescribable feelings for Mian. He had always held onto a sliver of hope that, given the current strong suppression of Tantric Buddhism, the truly important figures couldn't possibly be members of Tantric Buddhism.

But at this very moment, one of those great figures, without a doubt, appeared before him, exuding an aura of supreme authority.

The angular, dragon-like snout gradually disappeared, replaced by the smiling face of a kind and benevolent old man.

Everything that had just happened seemed like a hallucination, an auditory hallucination—or rather, it was indeed the case, and within this illusion, a sliver of reality was revealed.

Overwhelmed by an unprecedented feeling of suffocation, Mian couldn't help but gasp for breath.

No wonder Toby said he could recognize the bishop at a glance as soon as he walked in. Indeed, at this time and place, the only person who could possibly be a bishop was April Stein.

Damn.

Mian couldn't help but curse inwardly. If this socialite-like big shot was a member of a secret society, then who were the tycoons, politicians, and bureaucrats who associated with him and attended his parties? And what crimes would they commit using their power and wealth? The thought filled Mian with a sense of powerlessness and resentment.

Calm down, don't overthink it!

Mian patted his chest, forcing himself to calm down.

Whether the bishop is a big shot or not is none of your business. All you have to do is take advantage of the chaos to rescue those children, that's all.

Mian told himself this, but at the same time, another thought suddenly arose in his mind.

Would it be a good thing to cooperate with Matt and kill him here? Or rather, instead of waiting for that two-faced Matt to meet him in an uncertain future, he could kill the person in front of him right here, at his own expense.

Could this actually save more people?

Matt had once told Mian that the bishop was a transcendent being who walked the path of the "worm," a path opposite to that of the "smith," which emphasized not creation or innovation, but corruption and destruction. Overall, it wasn't exactly a highly defensive path to ascension. Moreover, the bishop wasn't a powerful transcendent being.

If it were me now, perhaps it wouldn't be impossible, but...

Mian shook his head, abandoning the idea. It was just an uncertain future; who knew if the death of Stein would lead to the emergence of another Stant? Without an organization, gambling one's life on this was pointless and would only result in the loss of lives that could have been saved.

Let's just stay quiet and wait until the auction is over...

As Mian was thinking this, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye.

He was a young man, strong and muscular, but with dark circles under his eyes and a gaunt face, as if he had suffered some kind of mental torment.

He stood among the wealthy ladies, like a ghost that didn't belong there, and at that moment, this ghost was trembling as he reached his arm into his pocket.

To Mian's utter astonishment, the young man pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at April Stein on the stage.