Esoteric Buddhism: To live as king in America

"It's 9:30 now, and there are still 10 minutes before the auction staff officially enter. Let's review the next steps one last time."

Almost in the blink of an eye, morning had passed. At this moment, Mian was sitting in a car provided by Matt, and the driver seemed to be a pitiful person who had been mildly brainwashed through some means.

Matt was no longer by her side; he was only giving Mian his final instructions via communicator.

"9:40 is when the Donna Hotel, which has been completely taken over, will be fully open to the public. Although the seller has the privilege of entering in advance, 9:40 is the busiest time and the easiest time for us to sneak in. Your identity is the seller, Rayman Hall, the former secretary to a warlord in Amaranth. But don't worry, your master has only been in power for 7 days. In Oceania, not many people know you. Perhaps this is a bit redundant for you, but I still have to remind you that you are playing the role of a stray dog, so if you really run into someone you know, just pretend you don't see them."

"learn."

Having received Mian's affirmative reply, Matt paused on the other end of the communicator before continuing in an even louder voice:

"Your identity and the sword up for auction have already been registered by Toby. Your reason for participating in the auction is to acquire the capital for a luxurious life in Liberty City, so you're here to auction off the luxury goods that the warlord has painstakingly collected. You're free to do as you please, but it doesn't matter. Anyway, we won't take action at the auction."

Matt lowered his voice slightly, giving it a hint of secrecy.

"The auction is a public place, and using supernatural means there would violate the principles of the hidden world. Besides, neither I nor Toby have any reason to be there. So we just take advantage of this opportunity to get into the hotel, hide, and wait for the tycoon Apted Stein's luncheon on the 23rd floor at 1 p.m.—that's the opportunity for the Nativity. I'll stay by the bishop's side, and as long as you cause enough trouble, I'll take the opportunity to kill the bishop."

"That concludes the discussion. Are there any further questions?"

"Yes, if we kill the other person using ordinary methods instead of supernatural means, will that be a problem?"

"No, but,"

A sneer came through the communicator.

"We're not going to kill an ordinary person, but a superhuman with a powerful organization, even if he himself isn't particularly powerful. Remember, the principle of the Hidden World is secrecy, especially in a metropolis like Free City. The Federation doesn't want cults and superhumans to spread openly, and things that are sufficiently secretive often lack power."

"But what if an ordinary person were to infiltrate and attempt an assassination? Wouldn't that disrupt our plans?"

Mian asked tentatively.

Matt, however, nonchalantly replied over the communicator:

"That's impossible. You're underestimating the Celestial Church's vigilance. Unless let in by the bishop himself, no mortal could infiltrate without using supernatural abilities to conceal their presence. You might be worried about whether some clumsy colleagues might sneak in with us. If that happens, then you're on your own."

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After saying this, Matt waited a while, and seeing that you hadn't asked any further questions, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and a long exhale came through the communicator.

"That's settled then. In any case, I wish you and I good luck on our mission."

The communicator disconnected, clearly indicating that Matt on the other end of the line also had his own things to do.

The hypnotized driver slowly started the car, and soon arrived at the Donna Hotel. Through the car window, you looked at the magnificent building and silently clenched your fists.

"So you're not joking, you really want to storm into the Naturist Church's headquarters and die, just for a few children you don't even know, or who might not even exist?"

Within the consciousness space, Ryan opened his mouth, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief and anger.

Ryan, that noisy guy, had been quite silent ever since Mian told him about his plans yesterday, and only now did he take the initiative to speak.

"Mian, you've gone mad. I knew you were crazy, but I never imagined you'd go this far. Do you really have to go through with this? And take me with you."

Hearing Ryan's furious shouts, Mian couldn't help but grin.

He discovered one of the guy's uses once again: in these moments when he was alone deep behind enemy lines, at least there was someone to talk to.

"You possessed creature, you deserve to die. But if you don't want to die..."

Mian said with a hint of provocation:

"Give me your all, I refuse to believe there's any such thing as a guaranteed death in this world."

Having said that, Mian, disguised as "Rayman Hall," took a deep breath, opened the car door, and stepped onto the gleaming marble steps of the Donna Hotel. The morning sunlight streamed onto the magnificent glass facade, refracting a cold, dazzling halo. This colossal structure, standing in the Duchy of the Freedom, was now opening its luxurious yet dangerous doors to welcome a bloody feast.

The entrance was bustling with people—well-dressed tycoons, socialites, collectors, and sellers like Mian, who brought their "treasures," forming a slowly moving current. The air was filled with the scents of expensive perfumes, the lingering aroma of cigars, and a subtle, upper-class sense of detachment.

Mian tried to mimic the weary look of the "stray dog" Matt had described in his memory as he approached the gate.

Security measures were as tight as expected. Security guards in sharp uniforms scanned each person entering with keen eyes. Metal detectors and handheld scanners were readily available, and there were dedicated personnel to verify invitations and identification documents.

"Mr. Rayman Hall?"

The security personnel checked the list and then carefully examined Mian's face. Mian felt as if the other person's gaze could penetrate his skin. He forced himself to nod slightly and hummed in response, his throat feeling a little dry.

"Are you the owner of the auction item, Ifaratamuya?"

The security inspector's tone carried a hint of professional skepticism.

"Yes, it's a family heirloom."

Mian remained calm and composed, even grinning to reveal the two rows of white teeth that were completely filled in by the mask, and gave the security officer a smile.

"I hope to get a good price so that I can do more for this country and for the poor on the streets."

"And what about this dagger?"

"It's not sharpened, it's just a toy."

He observed the other party's reaction, ready to respond to questioning or expose himself at any time.

Fortunately, perhaps because "Rayman Hall's" identity information was "real" enough, the security personnel did not conduct much of a check and allowed him to blend into the flow of people passing through security.

Upon entering the lobby, an atmosphere of luxury immediately envelops you. A huge crystal chandelier hangs from the soaring dome, its light dazzling; the mirror-like marble floor reflects the elegantly dressed guests; and the air is filled with a subtle blend of fine fragrances and fresh flowers.

Everything here made it seem like a glorious and civilized gathering place. Yet, hidden within this very building was a cannibalistic cult and countless acts of depravity.

Someone always has to work to end these evils, and this time it's just my turn.

With this encouragement in her heart, Mian stepped forward and officially entered this den of demons.