The Master of Deceit: A Night at the Temple

The so-called "Master of Blessings" stood tall, his chest puffed out with self-importance. He waved his arms dramatically, drawing out the ritual for an exaggerated moment before finally straightening up and pressing his hands downward as if concluding some sacred act. He let out a deep breath, looked directly at the man standing awkwardly in front of him, and declared, "It is done. The blessing is complete. Now, hand over the payment—two thousand."

The man in question, a simple and honest fellow, stood there dumbfounded. Sweat trickled down his brow as he clutched an old, beat-up cellphone that was barely worth fifty. He glanced up, bewildered. "Two thousand? For blessing a phone?"

The so-called "Master" smirked. "Indeed. A sacred blessing like this requires more energy than blessing statues or holy relics. You interrupted me halfway, and I had to start over. Honestly, I should charge you more for the trouble. What did you expect, a bargain? This isn't your local marketplace."

The man, clearly distressed, stammered, "M-Master, I only have five hundred. That's all the money I get for cigarettes each month. Please, can't you give me a break?"

The Master of Blessings sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if disappointed in the man's ignorance. "Five hundred? You're seriously haggling over something as important as this? Do you think this is a negotiation? Blessings like these aren't cheap! They're not just for protecting your phone; they're for your entire being!"

Seeing the man become more desperate, he added, "Look, I can tell you're in a tough spot. Here's what I'll do. Give me the five hundred now and write an IOU for the remaining one thousand five hundred. You can pay the rest when you have it. Leave me a copy of your ID and a note with your work address, so I can follow up. Once you've paid in full, I'll return the IOU. How does that sound?"

The man, clearly without other options, reluctantly handed over the five hundred and wrote out the IOU. He left clutching his "blessed" phone like it might turn his luck around.

Watching this unfold, I couldn't help but feel disgusted. The Master was nothing more than a conman preying on the vulnerable. The temptation to call him out burned in me, but I held back, reminding myself that there were bigger fish to fry. Unmasking the scams of this temple—the so-called Seven Treasures Monastery—was far more important than exposing this charlatan to one man.

As the man shuffled out of sight, the Master of Blessings turned to me and my companion, Ethan, with a satisfied grin. "Did you see that? That, my friends, is what you call real power. You two should take notes. When we expand and open more branches of the monastery, you'll be running one of them yourselves."

I couldn't suppress a sarcastic laugh. "A blessing on a cellphone? That's something I've never seen before. Truly remarkable."

Ethan, standing beside me, chuckled. "Remarkable isn't the word I'd use."

But the Master of Blessings, oblivious to the mockery in my voice, beamed as if I'd paid him the highest compliment. "You've got a lot to learn, boys. Just last week, I blessed a rich man's Ferrari! You name it, and I can bless it. Cars, toilets, glasses, even makeup bags. Everything can be blessed, because all things are connected to the divine."

At this point, I was beyond words. Ethan wasn't far behind, shaking his head in disbelief. I shot him a look, hoping he'd keep his cool, but he was already a step ahead of me.

"Master," Ethan said, playing along. "My friend here," he gestured toward me, "has a bit of a problem with his brain. You think you could bless that, too?"

I stared at him, my jaw dropping. Was he seriously playing into this nonsense?

The Master scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Bless a brain, you say? Not a bad idea. Parents are always looking for ways to give their kids an edge. If I develop a brain-blessing service, I could be raking it in! You boys are sharp. Keep thinking like this, and you'll go far in the monastery."

That was when it clicked. This man wasn't just delusional—he was utterly consumed by greed. He wasn't blind to our sarcasm; he was so fixated on scamming people that he was willing to consider anything that could make him money. I exchanged a look with Ethan, both of us silently acknowledging the absurdity of it all.

Just as I was about to tell the Master that Ethan had been joking, the door creaked open. A young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, stepped in timidly. Her eyes were filled with worry, and she clutched a small statue of a goddess in her hands.

"Master, I've come to ask for your help," she said, her voice trembling. "My father fell ill suddenly. Someone told me that if I come here and pray, you could bless this statue and bring it home for good fortune."

The Master's demeanor changed in an instant. His sleazy grin turned into one of faux compassion, and he beckoned her closer with exaggerated kindness. "You've come to the right place, my dear. I am known as the best in the region when it comes to blessings. Now, tell me more about your father's illness. The more I know, the better I can tailor the blessing."

I watched in growing disgust as he led her into the back room, where no doubt he would try to charm and manipulate her further. Ethan and I exchanged knowing glances again, both of us silently agreeing that this scam artist had reached a new low.

After what felt like an eternity, the Master re-emerged without the statue and without having performed any of the blessings. Oddly enough, he seemed quite pleased, and the young woman left without a word, her face a mixture of confusion and hope. I couldn't help but feel uneasy.

The Master plopped back down in his chair, his earlier enthusiasm dimmed slightly as the day wore on. "Well, boys, you've seen how it's done. Now, off you go. I'm done for the day."

Ethan and I stood up, our heads swimming from the whirlwind of scams and deceit we had witnessed. Just as we were about to leave, the Master called out, "Oh, and don't forget. Tonight, 10 PM. Meet me at the Goddess Hall. We've got a special task to handle."

As we stepped out into the fresh air, I breathed in deeply, trying to shake off the stifling atmosphere of the place. Ethan, ever the pragmatist, spoke up first. "What do you think he's planning for tonight?"

I shrugged, unsure. "No idea, but I doubt it's anything good."

Ethan nodded. "Let's be ready. We'll bring the camera just in case."

The evening dragged on, and as the hour approached, we prepared to head to the temple's Goddess Hall. The Seven Treasures Monastery seemed even more eerie at night. The usual crowd of monks and visitors had dwindled, leaving the grounds feeling deserted. Shadows loomed larger, and the silence was broken only by the occasional creak of the temple's old wooden beams.

When we arrived at the hall, the Master of Blessings was nowhere in sight. Instead, the pungent smell of incense, mixed with something far more unpleasant, wafted through the air. It was a sickly sweet stench, like burning oil and rot.

"Master?" I called out, my voice barely more than a whisper. There was no response.

The unsettling silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of our own footsteps as we cautiously moved through the darkened hall. Something wasn't right. We both felt it.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. We tensed, ready for whatever lay ahead. The temple, it seemed, was about to reveal its darkest secret yet.