Esoteric Buddhism: To live as king in America

The moment Matt saw his fingers, a multitude of thoughts flashed through his mind: an impulse of anger, a sense of shame and self-reproach, but all of them ultimately transformed into the naked profit before him.

"Mr. Mian, what is this?"

Matt wore a smile that seemed to indicate that nothing had happened and everything was as usual.

Mian responded with a mocking smile:

"The finger of a blind fool."

He pulled out the box behind him, took out the Italatamuya inside, and gently blew on the sword that had just severed the head of the person in front of him, his tone carrying a hint of hostility.

"He tried to attack me while I was dealing with some things, but he was no match for me and ended up dying at my hands. And what a coincidence, isn't it?"

Mian sheathed his sword and then took out the scavenged astral badge from his pocket, playing with it in his hand.

"He seems to be a member of the Naturist Church. That's strange, as far as I know, the Naturist Church shouldn't have much time to send someone to look for me right now. The only Naturist superhuman I've ever met is..."

Mian gripped the celestial emblem tightly with all five fingers, while simultaneously pointing the tip of his sword at Matt with his other hand, his eyes suddenly turning sharp.

"Mr. Matt, I think you should give me an explanation. You just extended an invitation to us to cooperate, and the very next day the Nativity people came knocking on our door. This makes me doubt your sincerity in cooperating."

"Ah, Mr. Mian. If you would give me a little more trust and inform me of this matter, I will certainly be there in person to prove my loyalty to you."

Matt quickly waved his hand at Mian's accusations, revealing a pained expression.

There's a saying in the East that goes, "Those who do great things don't concern themselves with trifles."

Matt sent out his clone to test the waters, prepared for it to be killed. Although Matt hadn't thought these people were capable of killing his clone, he assumed at most it would just be his clone fleeing in a sorry state.

But since it has already happened, Matt has no choice but to accept it. Besides, the fact that he has a clone and that the clone died itself reveals a great deal of information.

First, Matt understood the strength of his other self. That body had taken the most power from that "minion," making it agile, alert, and skillful enough.

Facing the vast majority of superhumans in this city, even if one's own strength is inferior to theirs, one should at least have the ability to escape. Unless the opponent's strength is too overwhelming, allowing one to kill them before falling into a disadvantageous position, or one has the ability to bypass the "minions'" vigilance and severely injure them through a sneak attack at the beginning of the battle.

The former goes without saying, and the latter, with its own clone's vigilance capabilities, would almost certainly require a highly trained assassin to succeed in a sneak attack—such individuals are usually only trained by the most powerful organizations and secret societies.

Of course, theoretically, someone whose strength isn't exceptionally formidable and whose experience isn't particularly abundant, yet possesses an outstanding understanding of the art of stealth, could still pull off a sneak attack. But such a low-probability event seems highly unlikely.

Thinking this, Matt looked at the menacing Mian and the sword that was only a few centimeters away from him, but he felt no fear whatsoever.

Since the other party is so powerful, he must have seen through the relationship between the clone and himself. But even so, the man in front of him who calls himself Mian still came here and did not turn against him immediately, which means that even under these circumstances, he still wants to cooperate with him.

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed he hadn't lost all his chips, but he knew he would definitely pay a heavy price for this probing action.

Having prepared for bleeding, he continued:

"But in any case, this happened far too coincidentally. I should compensate you."

Matt's attitude was incredibly sincere, and his posture was extremely respectful. If Mian hadn't heard the same words from his clone not long ago, and hadn't been attacked by his clone just minutes later, he might have actually believed that the person in front of him was a kind and honest person who knew how to admit his mistakes and correct them.

But now that we know the cause and effect, we can only say that Matt has fully demonstrated the shameless nature of the Skinflint.

However, it doesn't matter. For Mian at the moment, the most important thing is to keep this person in check, and only then can he reap the benefits. In that case, the other party's shamelessness is actually a good thing.

After all, the ease with which they managed to eliminate the opponent's clone was largely due to chance. If the opponent were to perceive an irreconcilable conflict and escalate it here, Mian would undoubtedly be the one to suffer.

Thinking this, Mian smiled and sheathed her sword.

"That depends on what price you're willing to pay."

Matt thought for a moment, then took out a bank card from his pocket and put it into Mian's hand.

"This card contains 50, which is of clean origin, anonymous, and unknown to the Nativity Church. The password is 11145141. To be honest, I am also short of money. After all, I am not a businessman or capitalist, just an ordinary clerk. This is the greatest compensation I can give you."

"Huh?"

Mian was stunned for a moment, thinking he had misheard something, but then he saw the Citibank logo clearly visible on the hard card in his hand. It really was a bank card.

If that's the case, then the 50 is indeed true...

Mian felt a little dizzy. He had thought about what kind of compensation the other party would offer, but no matter what, his thinking was limited to the level of extraordinary things. He never expected that Mark would actually take out money—and in a way, this was exactly what he needed most.

Mian's expression was somewhat bewildered. However, Matt interpreted this expression as something else entirely.

He looked embarrassed and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Because of the existence of the Federal Security Service and the Hidden World, even the most outstanding superhumans must rely on the mortal world to live. Superhuman power is certainly noble, but doing anything in public requires roundabout methods, which is not as convenient as simply spending money. Of course, I know that this alone is absolutely not enough to make up for my oversight, so I will give you more compensation."

Matt, displaying his supple physique, bowed deeply to Mian and said with utmost apology:

"I also hope you can forgive my mistakes. I believe that destroying the nudist religion with me will be the greatest compensation for you."