"Heh—"
After staring at Ming Po for a few seconds, Gao Song suddenly laughed.
He asked casually, "Why are you so confident?"
"It's simple."
Ming Po's lips curled up slightly as he pushed up his glasses. "Because I can read your mind."
"Oh?"
Gao Song retorted, his voice bordering on laughter, "Really?"
"Naturally."
As he spoke, Ming Po took off his glasses.
He wiped the lenses with his cuff, his dim yellow eyes locked onto Gao Song. "Although it looks like a pair of glasses, this is actually a Treasure known as 'Mind's Eye'."
Without the obstruction of his glasses, Ming Po's gaze, which had previously seed as indifferent as if it lacked all emotion, suddenly beca sharp, rebellious, and piercing.
A slight smirk graced Ming Po's lips, forming a manic smile as he confidently spouted nonsense. "When I look at you, I can read exactly what you are thinking."
Of course, he didn't possess such a Treasure, but it didn't matter.
As long as Gao Song believed it—or rather, as long as he seriously considered it, entertaining even a fraction of the possibility—Ming Po could amplify that fear infinitely.
"Is it really okay for you to tell straight out?"
Gao Song continued to smile, his gaze unwavering. "Wouldn't a mind-reading Treasure be better saved for a critical mont?"
"What does it matter if I tell you?"
Ming Po shot back. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'Don't think of a pink elephant'? The more you tell yourself not to think about it, the less you can control the urge. Just like right now—can you control your own thoughts?"
"Perhaps I cannot," Gao Song said leisurely, "but neither can you, Mr. Madman."
"—Twenty Faces, tell him what the 'Silver Crown' in my Title signifies."
"Yes."
The Host, Twenty Faces, bowed slightly to Gao Song.
She looked at Ming Po and spoke earnestly, "The 'Silver Crown' suffix grants immunity to ntal interference effects such as mind control, mind reading, charm, hypnosis, and fear."
"Did you hear that?"
Gao Song raised his head proudly. "Do you think I'm like little Fan, young man? Since I arranged this ga, its rules will absolutely favor ."
"Hypnosis, mind reading, swapping vision—it's not like I haven't seen these types of abilities before. Such powers are disruptive to this ga. If I hadn't prepared counterasures, how could I have lived peacefully until now?"
"Is that so?"
Even with his lie exposed, Ming Po didn't panic in the slightest.
Because even the act of Gao Song voicing a rebuttal contained valuable information.
"You care a lot about that. This is a ga where the more you understand your opponent, the easier it is to guess their secret—you've maintained a considerable degree of restraint in all other aspects, yet you just had to slap my face right here."
Ming Po spoke unhurriedly, "I see. It's because you were beaten by soone with a similar ability in the past—"
"And you must have been beaten terribly. You've been stuck at this stage because you harbor fear in your heart. You don't dare enter a new ga, terrified that your Title's suffix will be washed away—you've kept this Title all this ti simply because you want revenge."
"—Am I right?"
Hearing this, Gao Song's expression instantly darkened.
That aristocratic smile, filled with affability and a touch of arrogance, vanished from his face.
Now, he wore a sinister expression.
In those slightly narrowed eyes, clear killing intent surfaced for the very first ti.
"Boring psychology."
Gao Song's voice turned cold. "Why don't you try guessing when you will die?"
"—It's a Treasure, right?"
The card in front of Ming Po flashed.
It ant a correct guess.
Consequently, the right to ask a question for this round transferred to Gao Fan.
However, Gao Fan didn't make a guess this ti; instead, he looked at Ming Po.
It was now confird that Gao Song's answer was so kind of man-made tool, while Ming Po's was locked onto so kind of Treasure.
Without a doubt, Ming Po was in more danger.
Because as a new Deceiver of the World, Ming Po hadn't co into contact with or learned about many Treasures. On the other hand—
The category of tool still needed to be narrowed down further.
Under these circumstances, Gao Fan made the most correct choice. "What should I ask?"
Gao Fan spoke up, earnestly directing the question to Ming Po.
—He completely gave up answering himself, turning his turn into Ming Po's second chance to answer!
This was to avoid wasting his round and also a sign of his trust in Ming Po.
"How shaful, little Fan."
Gao Song stared at Gao Fan coldly. "After all these years, you're still just as weak."
"The mont you run into a problem, you go begging others—when have you ever thought about how to solve a problem yourself?"
"Or is it that your parents' doting has made you forget how to walk?"
His words grew sharp, and the hypocritical, gleeful arrogance was entirely gone from his face.
Yet, when facing direct pressure from his uncle, the timid Gao Fan instead cald down.
He was visibly less afraid.
His eyes stopped trembling, and even the hand that had been subconsciously rubbing his cuff clenched into a fist.
—It was because of anger.
The fury rising from the bottom of his heart made Gao Fan forget his fear entirely.
"You have the nerve to ntion my parents?"
Gao Fan's words turned equally sharp. "Killing your brother and nephew, stealing the family fortune, and wiping out the entire household—a person like you would have been sentenced to lingchi in ancient tis."
"But it isn't ancient tis now, little Fan. In today's world, there isn't so much rotten morality—you are weaker than others, so you deserve to be eaten until there's nothing left."
Gao Song said coldly, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Besides, I killed them, so what? Can you find the evidence? Or are you planning to turn yourself into the evidence? You're not still hoping to punish with the law, are you?"
"Hah?"
"A cri that hasn't been discovered isn't a cri—you're this old, how can you not understand such a simple principle? You studied for over a decade, and in the end, you beca a rigid, rotting piece of trash—truly useless, just like your father."
"In case you didn't know, your father asked the exact sa thing before he died. He was exactly like you."
He no longer spoke with passive-aggressive mockery, but rather displayed a chilling hostility with absolute clarity. "After he finished cursing , he begged to let you go—your whole family is exactly the sa. Is this how you beg soone for a favor?"
"Heh—"
Ming Po laughed.
First, a chuckle escaped his lips, which quickly escalated into wild, unbridled laughter.
That laughter greatly displeased Gao Song. He glared at Ming Po, a faint green glow surfacing in the depths of his eyes—the color belonging to the Domain of Balance.
"What are you laughing at?"
he demanded.
"I'm laughing because—"
Ming Po's lips curled up as he asked, emphasizing every word, "Did the fact that you never went to school really break your defenses that badly?"
"Anti-morality, anti-education, anti-authority, anti-patriarchy—then what exactly are you advocating? The law of the jungle?"
"—But are you really strong? You spent over a decade, yet you haven't even reached Silver of Moon. You were beaten so badly you don't dare advance, stuck playing king in the beginner village—have you bullied noobs so much that you actually think you're a master?"
"So what?"
Gao Song sneered. "Being stronger than you is enough."
"Strength and weakness in this world are relative, just like how I wouldn't compare my wealth to Bill Gates's—but I am certainly richer than you, rich to a degree you couldn't reach in a lifeti."
"To poor wretches like you, what difference is there between and Bill Gates? None! There is absolutely no difference!"
"Because they are both realms you can never touch!"
"Just like ! I'm stronger than all of you combined!"
Gao Song's low voice grew louder and louder until it gradually turned into a roar.
Ming Po, however, didn't say much. He simply turned his head, unable to hold back his amusent. "Your uncle is hilarious—he scolded soone and ended up breaking his own defenses."
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