Chapter 855 - 72: Buddha Statue

Chapter 855: Chapter 72: Buddha Statue

Divpo City, Sarawo Mine.

The miners finally endured until the brief lunch break, clutching wooden bowls filled with gray moss rice, grabbing and swallowing hastily.

Inside the shelter, apart from gray moss rice, Batty’s wooden bowl contained a few small pieces of black rye bread crumbs brought from outside by Bamuta. Batty didn’t want to be special, but this rye bread carried a certain special Wish Power of the Lamp-Burning Angel’s path.

Among all the miners, only Bamuta, as a Sheren, was qualified to buy the bread. Black rye, such a precious item, even if it’s stale, spoiled, or moldy, can’t be given to Roto in the form of bread. Crushed and mixed with gray moss, shaped into a black bread is already the best thing Roto can eat.

Batty looked towards the overseers’ dining hall nearby, where a broker had just taken over a dozen women... Now, shouts from the overseers inside could be heard one after another.

At this time, in the dining hall where miners weren’t allowed to enter, there was not only meat today but also rye wine, all rewards from above. The overseer leader Rahul embraced on both sides, carefully served by two Sheren women, having wine and meat, women were a necessary embellishment for this rare enjoyment. Of course, apart from Rahul who had two Sheren women, the other overseers had dark-skinned Roto women, somewhat rough, and the scene was a bit unrestrained.

Rahul was complacent, this sense of superiority greatly added to the excitement, speaking eloquently.

Those filthy and dirty Rotos are cheap beings; only the whipped Rotos understand how precious work is, giving them a chance to atone to the Three-Phase God.

Torture? It doesn’t exist, everything is God’s will. Look, under his lash, production recently increased by another ten percent, earning the rewards of wine and meat from above.

An overseer, while stroking a woman’s slim waist, enjoying the smooth touch of young flesh, relishing the taste of meat in his mouth, spoke of meat, though it was the fat worm oil residue meat, already considered a top delicacy for Sheren. Not in such a hellish place as this mine, ordinary Sheren wouldn’t eat it even once a year. He couldn’t help imagining: "Boss, what kind of meat do the Tishili seniors eat? Surely they don’t eat residue like us?"

Exploring the mysteries of the woman, Rahul’s face suddenly darkened: "The affairs of the Tishili seniors are not for a filthy thing like you to speculate on! It’s all the grace of the Three-Phase God; even with wine and meat, you can’t shut that mouth of yours?"

The overseers shrank their necks and hurriedly recited the grace of the Three-Phase God.

Seeing the situation, Rahul felt complacent. In fact, as long as the discussion wasn’t about the Grand Elder, it wasn’t so serious. It was just casual chitchat. The Tishili wouldn’t care about the barking of dogs outside the door as long as it didn’t reach the seniors’ ears. But he was newly appointed, and today’s distribution of wine and meat made some old overseers a bit arrogant. He had to suppress it, let them know who the leader was. Seeing everyone had softened, he changed the topic, his tone less severe: "It’s not completely forbidden to talk about. I used to follow a senior at a beast farm once, and ate beast meat, but the flavor, if I told you, you wouldn’t understand."

"Beast farm? What’s that?"

The overseers’ eyes glowed not just with curiosity, but more with eagerness. A leader backed by influential figures is different from one who climbed with no background.

Rahul laughed heartily, "A beast farm is for raising beasts, providing clean meat for the upper echelon. Guess, what kind of oil do the seniors use?"

Gulping, overseers swallowed saliva, unable to imagine but desperately trying.

Rahul squinted his eyes, continuing to increase production; the whips of these overseers were indispensable, "The oil pressed from fat worms is filthy oil to the seniors; it doesn’t even qualify to light lamps. Forget it, why am I telling you all this? Anyway, follow me and work well in the future, there will be wine and meat, and women won’t be missing for you. But if you double-cross, especially getting close to those miners, I won’t say much, you better be aware of the consequences."

...

Lunch break ended, Batty stood at the entrance of the mine, looking toward the overseers’ dining hall. He saw several overseers staggering out, evidently losing in drinking games, while the others were still inside frolicking. It wasn’t easy to get the women inside; surely, it wouldn’t quiet down anytime soon.

Batty pondered; the Round Table Conference had taught him to think. Rahul was an insatiable demon, squeezing harder and harder. Yet, as long as production was sufficient, overseers would mine less. Inside the mine, they slowly and steadily increased production a little, maintained the trend of increased production, they could get more free time.

Batty no longer cultivated alone but went with everyone into the depths of the mine, digging ore one strike after another, with strands of power quietly emerging. He clearly felt a mysterious force flowing into his body, nurturing him, so he didn’t resist mining.

Batty was contemplating when suddenly, a rush of activity came from the tunnel. He saw Yalamu squeezing through miners toward him, eyes shining excitedly, gleaming brightly under the torchlight, "New tunnel... Elder wants you over."

Batty and Yalamu arrived at the end of the new mining tunnel; a newly excavated black hole was before them, with flickering firelight inside, clearly tested for air. Bamuta and Jose guarded outside, faces brimming with uncontrollable excitement and joy.

"Batty!" Seeing Batty, Bamuta’s face grew even more enthusiastic, "Come feel it."

Batty just reached the entrance, his expression suddenly changed!

This feeling...

The murmurs that were always in his mind halted the moment he stood at the entrance, as if he was listening to Mr. Gemini’s wooden fish taps, exactly the same.

"Inside is?"

"You’ll know after you go in and see." Bamuta smiled, leaping into the hole first.

Batty followed closely behind, the firelight illuminated a small underground space, dry, cold. Batty looked at the tunnel walls with the help of the firelight, shivering all over, his eyes almost popped out, "This... this is..."

He rushed forward, carefully illuminating each spot on the tunnel walls with his torch.

It was a mural of majestic splendor, lines antique, clothes floating, already so faded it’s nearly losing color, broken yet sacred, eyes slightly closed, mouth carrying an indescribable smile, seeming compassionate, yet also an aloof understanding.

Around the mural, were densely packed vertical lines of small text, but those words, Batty carefully observed one by one, were not in Hera Language.

Quiet... too quiet, an incomparably comfortable silence, no murmurs, not even the sound of wooden fish.

Batty stood before the dignified mural. He looked at the broken image; the half-closed eyes seemed to be gazing down at him. In his mind, a strange feeling was forcibly stirred; Mister... Batty almost instinctively joined his hands, facing the portrait, with a devout expression. A long breath slowly exhaled from his mouth, and four undulating syllables flowed up through his throat from his abdomen: "A——mi——ta——bha——"

Buzz!

A low hum resonated from the cave, and on the wall, those dense lines of text lit up one by one. A new murmur... no, not murmurs, it was... chanting! Chanting scripture! Deep, melodious, contrasting the chaotic murmur with serene focus.

Amitabha!

Bamuta, Yalamu, and Jose, at some point, were already kneeling, crawling on the ground, the power of the mine rushing into everyone.

Until the chanting ceased, Batty turned and looked at Bamuta and others on the ground.

"Elder Bamuta."

Bamuta maintained his kneeling posture, raising his head; in a trance, he saw Batty in the firelight seemingly overlapping with the mural’s figure, Batty’s thin body at this moment also seemingly like the mural, floating, at ease.

Batty restrained his inner excitement; just now, he seemed to return to the state when Mr. Gemini descended, but it was vastly different. He was extremely confident that this mural related to the knowledge Mr. Gemini taught, whether it be the wooden fish or others.

Batty expressed his feelings and shared them with Bamuta, contemplating, "Should I contact Mister?"

Bamuta frowned; regarding the Mister Batty spoke of, he trusted yet profoundly feared. Whether it was an outside true god or another being, he shook his head: "First, comprehend yourself, the path of faith is not about seeking, it’s about cultivation, about honing, about self-refinement. Until the end, don’t directly tap into that being’s power; missing the process contradicts our path of redemption."

Bamuta remembered the past sins of Mist City, once greed and seeking would lose everything.

Batty nodded thoughtfully, looking at the mural with even more determination.