Chapter 436: A Million Pounds First
Chapter 436: A Million Pounds First
Wang Bo finally came down from the mountain, not driven by Han Sen, but due to an urgent call from home. Something major had happened in Capital City.
A thousand-year-old temple underwent mutation, and the Buddha within… came alive! If it were a true Buddha, it wouldn’t cause such chaos. The problem was this resurrected Buddha bled crimson—a Blood Buddha!
“Danger! Extreme danger!”
Just reading the report made Han Sen nervous. That Old Wang always tried to drag him into trouble. As chaotic energy kept flooding in, the world’s mutations grew more severe.
The destructive power of a creator-level being meant utter devastation for ordinary people. From the world’s perspective, Zuo Meng’s interference only left a scratch—insignificant to the Origin World. Once Zuo Meng departed, this minor wound would heal quickly.
But for living beings within the world?
Their fragile existence couldn’t compare to the world’s magnitude. Zuo Meng noticed this too. His goal was stealing Origin Rules, not destroying worlds. He reduced the chaotic energy influx by narrowing dimensional rifts, buying ordinary people more time. Even if annihilation came, it’d be centuries later—long after Zuo Meng had fled with his gains.
Han Sen knew nothing of these cosmic games.
Before leaving, Wang Bo handed him an invitation, demanding he visit Capital City. Some big shot wanted to meet him.
Big shots? No thanks. The Blood Buddha causing chaos under three A-level big shots’ watch couldn’t be ordinary. With his “survival first” motto, Taoist priest Han wouldn’t risk it.
Yet fate had other plans.
At dawn, a mobilization order reached the mountain.
The message was clear: The Special Operations Bureau summoned all notable experts to Capital City immediately. Refusal meant treason. After the crisis, disobedient Awakened Ones would be hunted. Normally, Han Sen wouldn’t register on big shots’ radars—but Old Wang’s recent praise and those millions in rewards made him unavoidable.
Unless he fled abroad.
But foreign lands burned with daily warfare. Even a B-level big shot ruling a nation got killed recently, ashes scattered. Han Sen’s weak frame wouldn’t last.
“Let’s go. Can’t be that bad.”
Han Sen took the order and headed to the airport. By 3 PM, he stood in Capital City.
Empty airport. Bustling metropolis.
Though he’d visited during school years, the sight still awed him—Xia Country’s capital, among Earth’s greatest cities. Ant-like crowds, forest-like skyscrapers. The very air reeked of money and power.
“Taoist priest Han?”
A young woman in office wear eyed him at arrivals.
“That’s me.”
Wang Bo promised someone would meet him, but Han Sen didn’t expect this beauty. Uniformed! Eighty points for looks. Han Sen kept his face solemn while mentally scoring.
“I’m Li Ping. Young Master Wang sent me.”
She relaxed upon confirming his identity. In Jiangnan City, they called Wang Bo “Secretary,” but here, his minor title meant nothing—only his Wang Family heir status mattered.
“Lead on.”
With no lodgings arranged, Old Wang’s help saved trouble. Before facing the Blood Buddha, preparations were needed—preferably life-saving ones. All requiring time and cash.
“This way, please.”
Li Ping led Han Sen out of the airport to a waiting business vehicle. Han Sen closed his eyes in the car, using his mental energy to scan the surroundings. Whether due to the concentration of experts or not, the energy fluctuations in Capital City felt far more intense than in Jiangnan City.
After twenty minutes, the traffic dwindled as the scenery turned lush and serene. Such tranquility within Capital City showcased Old Wang’s formidable reach.
When they entered the estate, Li Ping opened the car door for Han Sen.
“Taoist priest, we’re here.”
“Quick trip,” Han Sen remarked, stepping out. His eyes swept the grounds.
Sprawling.
Opulent.
Han Sen reevaluated his understanding of wealth—his past assumptions now seemed embarrassingly naive.
A middle-aged man in a tuxedo emerged, bowing. “Taoist priest Han, I’m the estate’s butler, Old Lou. Dinner is ready.”
“Where’s Old Wang?” Han Sen asked casually.
“Young Master Wang was summoned by a family elder regarding breakthrough preparations.”
Inside, an elaborate feast awaited. Before leaving, Wang Bo had strictly ordered his staff to treat Han Sen as royalty. After eating, Han Sen didn’t hesitate to issue requests—the woman who’d greeted him had already been sent to fetch talisman paper.
His master’s inherited techniques might be useless, but Han Sen saw no harm in preparing. What if the resurrection Formation actually worked? He remained unaware that Zuo Meng had orchestrated the “miracle,” and that his master’s formations were pure fiction—leg-breaking desperation wouldn’t make them functional.
“Your requirements?” Old Lou inquired. Wang Bo had demanded absolute compliance with Han Sen’s orders.
“Get me explosives.”
Talismans alone weren’t enough. Though Wang Bo claimed modern weapons couldn’t harm Awakened Ones, Han Sen planned enhancements—like augmenting bombs with mental energy.
“Understood.” Old Lou’s expression stayed neutral. Procuring explosives meant little to the Wang Family.
“Quantity?”
“A million pounds to start.” Against the Blood Buddha, anything less seemed pointless. Han Sen intended to compress the payload using his system. If not for the difficulty, he’d have demanded a nuclear bomb instead.
“Certainly—wait, *what?*” Old Lou’s composure cracked.
“One million pounds. Add a nuclear bomb if available.”