Esoteric Buddhism: To live as king in America

Ryan suddenly opened her eyes and gasped for breath when she saw the familiar bedroom ceiling.

She seemed to have just had a nightmare where she died and then came back to life. But shortly after, someone forced her head underwater, nearly washing her soul away. Then, in that same state, she was tricked into signing a contract of servitude, destined to be someone's slave from then on.

Thankfully, it was just a nightmare. Nothing has happened yet; I have a bright future ahead of me, a promising future…

"That's hard to say."

"Eh."

Ryan turned his head and saw a white plastic chair that should have been placed where his desk was. A man was sitting on it with his back to Ryan. Ryan could not see his face, but he could see that the man was playing with a ring with purple hair wrapped around it.

"This is!"

Ryan was horrified; that was her anchor point, the heart of her soul.

Give that thing back to me!

Ryan lunged at the man, but before she could get close, a sharp pain in her chest froze her in place.

Ryan looked incredulously at his chest, where a magnificent dagger was embedded.

"You know the rules, come and take what you want."

The man playfully twirled the ring on his finger, then spread his fingers wide, finally taking the ring into his possession.

"Just kidding, even if you come, I still won't give it to you."

The man snapped his fingers with his other hand, and instantly the familiar bedroom in front of Ryan collapsed, leaving only endless darkness.

The man stood up from the white plastic chair, turned to Ryan, and smiled slightly.

"Hey friend, why that look? Don't tell me you've forgotten all the things you wanted to do to me and are now trying to play the innocent victim?"

As Ryan looked at the man's face and the dark space around him, memories that had become somewhat blurred by the creek of the lost resurfaced clearly in the sea of ​​memories.

"Mian..."

Ryan murmured to herself, and it was at this moment that the deep weariness etched into the depths of her soul surged up again, causing her to collapse to the ground.

"I'm so tired... What exactly did you make me do while I was not fully conscious?"

Ryan asked, his eyes brimming with tears, as he crossed his arms.

"What did you do?"

Mian grinned wickedly. He slowly approached Ryan, who was unable to move freely in front of him, and then reached out his hand towards Ryan's face.

"Bang!"

A flick of the wrist landed on Ryan's forehead, and in this consciousness space dominated by Mian, it made her feel as if she had been shot.

"Of course, it's time to work."

In the real world, Mian rubbed her temples to relieve her fatigue and said:

"Time can't be wasted. Carrying you on my back, I managed to unlock almost every spell available in [Clover Forest]. But you couldn't even maintain your body on the [Outer Wall] and ended up back here. And you brought me with you."

"Normally, unless you're dead, there's a time limit to staying on the [outer wall]!"

Ryan rubbed his forehead and got up, saying with a pitiful expression:

"A soul residing in a physical body faces an immense test of its strength every second it's separated from that body. When I was at my peak, my explorations were always precisely timed—going in and returning just in time. But you… *sobs*"

Ryan let out a cry of relief, as if he had just survived a disaster.

Mian scratched his chin in confusion, and said:

"Really? I don't feel that tired."

"That's because you, you damned prophet, you went too far!"

Seeing that Mian could already recreate the bedroom that only existed in his memory, Ryan knew that Mian had probably figured him out, but he stopped pretending and started cursing.

Faced with this audacious attempt to possess her by breathing on her, Mian showed no mercy. She simply rubbed the ring wrapped in hair in her palm a few times, and Ryan immediately rolled on the ground in pain.

"Get your place, you bastard."

The smile vanished, and Mian's expression turned cold again. Facing the rolling Ryan, he crouched down, holding the ring menacingly in front of Ryan, and said:

"Ryan Ford, 24 years old, has killed a total of 9 people so far, 6 of whom were ordinary people... You should be glad that at least you killed street thugs and gangsters and let that passing child go. Otherwise, even if you were useful to me, I would have wiped you out on the spot."

Faced with the revelation of Mian's crimes, Ryan, still in pain and exhausted, did not choose to yield as before. Instead, he stubbornly raised his head and spoke sharply, like a needle pointing at a wheat awn:

"Ha, that's ridiculous. When have superhumans ever considered mortals as human beings? I am, your teacher, your organization are even more so, and they will only kill more than I have."

"There are always exceptions. Don't pass off your own distorted morality as universally applicable principles."

Mian said calmly:

Ryan simply endured the pain and gave a defiant smile.

"Mr. Mian, the victor is king, the loser is villain. You won, so everything you said is right. I have neither the ability nor the courage to commit suicide, so you can do whatever you want with me, and I will listen."

"So you used such a harsh tone just to back down to me?"

Seeing Ryan breathing out warm air while using honorifics, Mian felt speechless for the first time.

"Alright, since you're willing to help, let's get started..."

Mian snapped his fingers again, and two chairs and a table appeared in front of the two of them.

Ryan grumbled as he obediently sat down in the chair, looking at the whiteboard that Mian had conjured with another snap of his fingers, and asked:

"Alright, what are you planning to make me do? Are you going to use me as a spirit servant, or as expendable material, or are you going to transform me into xxx and stuff me into xxx to be used as xxx?"

Ryan said angrily:

"I know that the soul of a 'fisherman' who can return to the mortal world is still somewhat useful. The organization behind you probably values ​​that too."

She was already convinced that the person in front of her was someone a large organization had sent out to bait people when they had nothing better to do.

But Mian simply held up two fingers and said:

"First of all, I don't have any big organization behind me. Secondly, put away your imagination; what I'm about to tell you isn't that complicated."

Mian snapped his fingers again, and an oil-based pen appeared in Ryan's hand, while the whiteboard moved behind Ryan.

"There's still an hour and a half until dawn. I need you to use this time to teach me Sumalan, right now."

"ha?"