"Demon, you demon."
With Ansu's command, Mr. Shenhai, pale-faced, looked towards his treasury, accumulated over many years, still harboring a sliver of hope, praying incessantly.
The money I plundered with my own ability, why should I have to return it?
That was rightfully mine!
This judgment, seemingly brief, felt like an eternity in Mr. Shenhai's heart. He stared wide-eyed at his glittering Gold Coins, as everything around him seemed to slow down.
At that moment, as twilight gathered at the end of the mountains, starlight fell upon the dark green fields, and pile upon pile of Gold Coins lay quietly in the carriage—reflecting the moonlight.
Amongst these were not just the earnings of the evening.
They also comprised the wealth sweated and squeezed out from years of the Shenhai family's colonization of Chaotic City, the political funds for Mr. Shenhai's campaign for Chaotic Councilor this year, they were Mr. Shenhai's everything.