Dasha removed himself from the table. The whispers and reactions that followed were full of emotion. Confusion, tension, and fear that the King of Vikings would not accept the outcome.

"Where do you think you're going!?"

Dasha didn't bother looking at Frode. He heard his obnoxiously loud voice one too many times. "I expect a contract."

Frode scoffed. "We're just getting started—"

"Dionysus, confirm the Eternal Contract," said Dasha. "Unless…the King of Vikings cannot pay?"

"We never planned to," Marshal Roland Blackwood said. "Anything over five billion was automatically out of our spending. I'm sure you knew that. Tell me, what can we do in exchange?"

His back to them, Dasha raised a hand and showed three fingers. "Three wishes. Anytime, anyplace, I expect you two to fulfill one wish."

"A wish?" Frode huffed. "What kind of wish? Like a favour?"

"Something like that," Dasha replied. "Oh, and two hundred million points from each of you. Does that suffice?"

The Marshal curled a hand under his chin. "Two hundred million I can manage. What are the criteria for the wishes?"

"There are none."

"That's ludicrous—"

"Fine, then points it is." Dasha turned to Li Xuanming. "Master of the Elixir, tell me, would thirty billion points be enough to buy your most sacred book?"

The Grand Master of Pill Making didn't blink. "Yes, most certainly."

"Pardon me." The Marshal looked over to him. "You claimed you would never sell it, Master Li Xuanming."

"The most you would offer me was two billion." Li Xuanming gestured a sleeve at the masked Dasha. "This is ten times that."

It wasn't a famous book known to the public. Dasha simply speculated that the greatest pill maker had a personal journal noting every single pill and elixir he had made. Every famous scientist, regardless of era or field, wrote their findings down. Dasha's speculation paid in fruit. The Marshal was agitated.

"The secrets could be revealed for all I care," Li Xuanming continued. "Whether one has the skills to complete my recipes is another matter. To those that do, I give my blessings. It is not an easy road."

The Orthodox Sect was not concerned with justice or moral obligations but instead on reaching enlightenment. Their definition of enlightenment was different than most; the Orthodoxes wished to become one with nature and not defy it.

"Thirty billion points. What on Earth will you achieve with that many points?" asked Marshal Roland Blackwood.

"All of society is run by money. I have no issue participating in its silly qualms as long as I can get what I want."

"Your silly goal is being one with plants," Frode mocked. His comment garnered a couple laughs from the spectators.

"So Marshal," Dasha said, "it's your pick. Either I get the secrets of the Orthodox Sect and sell every little secret to everyone—losing another potential monopoly for the Templars—or we do this bargain."

Think about the Templars. Think of the Order's future. That was the only way to pressure the Marshal.

"No one would ever believe that you, a masked man, would possess the knowledge of the world's greatest pill maker," the Marshal pointed out.

He was correct. Reputation mattered for a reason. Luckily, there was a technique Dasha had called bluffing. Bluffing and boasting confidence like no other.

"Mohammad Salah." Seeing the frown on his face, Dasha knew he hit the nail on the head. Within the world of politics, there were names not known to the public but known to the powerful. He was correct in assuming Mohammad Salah was one of those individuals. "Let us try one last time, Blackwood."

A long, long silence went by.

"Dionysus, would you please escort the ladies and gentlemen out?" Marshal Roland Blackwood asked. "I believe this warrants a privacy."

Dionysus leaped from his chair, smiling brightly at the spectators. Not a single one of them objected. They muttered complaints and let themselves be taken down the incomplete magical set of stairs. Li Xuanming also left the table, his angelic white hanfu trailing behind every step. From his facial features to him being born in the Ming Dynasty, it didn't come as a surprise that he was fully Han and fully proud to show it.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Dasha did not move. He stood there, his back facing the table, simply waiting. Left alone, the Marshal popped the question that had been agonizing him since the start. "Who in the world are you? Are you a part of the Skeptic Society?"

Dasha peered over his shoulder. The Marshal seemed to have something in mind. Whatever it was, his intuition was telling him it had little to do with the Whispers. "Does it matter? Either you put your whole guild into bankruptcy or you accept my offer."

"I care not for secrets, but…" Frode crossed his arms. "The big boss would be pretty pissed. I don't know about you, Marshal, but I'm doing it."

The Marshal put his elbows on the sidebars of the chair and hummed. He glanced at the God of Wine, then Dasha. "Write down the terms and conditions of the Eternal Contract. Then we will see."

Dasha took back his seat. Throughout the terms and conditions, Dionysus acted as the mediator. There was one clause in particular that the Marshal specified.

[ Article VII: Favor Value Limitation Clause

The parties agree that the favors owed under this contract shall not exceed a cumulative total value of twenty billion (20,000,000,000) White Abyss points. Any favors rendered beyond this specified value shall not be binding under this agreement and shall be considered outside the scope of this contract.

Should the cumulative value of the favors provided, whether through services, goods, or any other means, reach or exceed the aforementioned limit, the party providing the favors shall not be obligated to fulfill any further requests under this agreement. Any excess favors rendered beyond the stipulated limit shall be deemed gratuitous and voluntary, not subject to the terms and conditions outlined within this contract. ]

Put simply, Dasha wouldn't be able to scam him for a wish over twenty billion. Fair enough. That wasn't Dasha's intention.

[ An Eternal Contract has been successfully made! ]

Dasha didn't waste a second. "My first favour..."

"What? You're using one wish now?" Frode groaned. "Come on!"

"I am. It will be a simple one: do not look into me. If your guild ever hears wind of my existence, of a man with a white mask, ignore it. I do not exist."

Frode was rather irritated. "What, are you going to be wreaking havoc? If you start going batshit crazy, then–"

"Done," said the Marshal. "The Templars will ignore the actions of the man in the white mask as best they can, the stipulation being a direct attack on us. Anything else?"

"No. I will contact you when I require your services next."

Dasha gave Dionysus a long look, his mask barely tilting in his direction. The god pointed a finger at himself. "What? Something on my face?"

Dasha stood up and didn't look back as he said, "Your poker face is terrible."

***

Back at the ground floor, Dasha returned to being another customer at the Endless Bar. He didn't drink, he just sat there, alone. He couldn't remove the mask unless he was willing to endure a world of pain.

"You know, you might look different, but you appear the same to me."

Dasha's fingers twitched. To his left was a presence he had somehow missed: Li Wei, the middle-aged Chinese man with distinct laugh lines on his face.

'When did he get there?' Dasha inhaled sharply. 'I must still be tense from the game.'

Dasha manipulated his emotions. Simmered them through Qi. That did not mean he did not have them. If there was someone out there capable of removing pain and surprise and fear entirely, then they would be a monster rather than human.

"What are you doing here?" Dasha asked.

"I can't be here?" Li Wei brought the glass of Baijiu to his lips. "I'm a man, I enjoy my time away from the wife."

"You spent fifty thousand just to come here," Dasha stated.

"Sacrifices for happiness."

"I remember you were struggling financially."

"You remember right. But we also have savings."

Dasha side-eyed him and said judgmentally, "You're using them up."

"No harm done." Li Wei sipped on the small rectangle bottle and let the final droplets fall on his tongue. "Ah! That hit the spot. Anyway, I think it's time to end the night. See you later."

Dasha watched him leave his seat, not bothering to bid him goodbye. Li Wei was a strange man. He drank a lot, just like his father did, and managed to separate his drinking problem from harsh reality, also like his father.

'Li Wei probably hates living here and working like—'

"Who were you talking to?"

His thoughts were cut off by a question and a man taking the seat that Li Wei once sat in. His Qi Sense had been activated the entire time yet the presence that entered his range was like a monstrous wall. It broke his Qi Sense and it was as though he had been struck in the back of his head.

'What is this…?'

"No one," Dasha replied.

"You put on quite the performance back in Dionysus' Room."

The more he pushed with his Qi Sense, the more he realized the daunting power of the masked man beside him. Dasha recognized him too: that masculine voice and the flamingo mask he wore—this man was one of the people spectating the poker match. His complexion was a light shade of brown, quite short, and as thin as paper.

So how? How was such a little man spewing out a wall of Qi like this?

Dasha turned his head slightly. The mask gave him additional vision in his peripheral vision so he really didn't need to. Still, he had to take a closer look. "I suppose."

A chuckle. "You are as crazy as ever."

'He seems like he knows me: or rather, Jack.'

"A bit too hard of a swing," said the man in the flamingo mask. Yes, he definitely knew Jack. "If you keep pushing your luck, not even the White Abyss will protect you from the wrath of the Grand Master of the Templar Order."

Dasha played along, "Is that right?"

"You have awakened, Jack, but the world has not. It is as He said. The Twin Angels That Fell will ascend. Divine retribution will come to Earth. You should have stayed hidden."

This feeling, this silent whirling of thick energy and rising authority of power…

Dasha had felt such energy once before. Days ago, when he was at Tvastar's Forge.

'This is no masked human. This is a god…!'