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Sylvester rubbed his chin and smiled. "There is indeed one more point that requires caution. For various reasons, the [Spirit Bomb] will be deflected by those who possess righteous energy. Because of this, the technique can almost only be used against people who have committed evil deeds—and the more heinous their crimes, the greater the damage they suffer. As for how to bypass this restriction…"
He deliberately left it hanging, picked up the teapot at his side, poured himself a cup, and slowly took a sip.
"The first method is to gather an extremely massive [Spirit Bomb]. As the saying goes, brute force overcomes all—by stacking an overwhelmingly large amount of energy, you can simply crush the enemy outright. That said…" He smiled faintly. "I trust Mr. Aventurine wouldn't use this on a righteous person, would you?"
As he spoke, he fixed his eyes on Aventurine with a teasing tone that carried a subtle, unspoken pressure.
That inexplicable weight in the air made Aventurine straighten unconsciously, the smile on his face fading a little.
After a brief pause, he sighed. "On that point, I can guarantee that I will never use it on righteous people, nor will I frame them in any way. However, if the IPC were to face a catastrophe that no one else could resolve, then I would have no choice but to use it."
He knew the IPC's internal situation all too well. To claim there was no coercion or plundering within it—he wouldn't even have the confidence to say that himself.
That said, Diamond's style of conduct largely lived up to his reputation; he disdained using underhanded methods. This made the atmosphere within the Strategic Investment Department far better than that of other departments—especially compared to their longtime rivals, the Market Development Department.
"Very good." Sylvester smiled and nodded.
He never expected the IPC to become a charitable organization. After all, that would be far more difficult than simply destroying it outright.
That Aventurine could adhere to his own principles was already commendable.
Taking another sip of tea, Sylvester continued with the second method. "The approach I described earlier—condensing spirit energy into a sphere of light for attack—can be called the projectile-type. However, there is actually another special method of use: the absorption-type."
"As the name implies, it involves absorbing large quantities of spirit energy directly into the body to strengthen oneself. Compared to the projectile-type, this usage is more flexible, and its power is likewise not to be underestimated."
Aventurine nodded, indicating that he fully understood, but he didn't speak.
He looked solemnly at the scroll in his hands, recalling a phrase that had long since been worn thin by repetition.
With great power comes great responsibility. Having obtained such tremendous potential—such a devastating ability—he would naturally have to bear the consequences of using it. Especially since this power required the voluntary contribution of spirit energy from many people.
Thinking of the faces of certain individuals within the IPC, a trace of mocking amusement appeared at the corner of Aventurine's lips.
Heh. I won't resign myself to becoming a dog in the IPC's palm, used to intimidate other factions—like the Imaginary Pulse.
Using this power properly wasn't just for the sake of so-called righteous people; it was also to ensure that he himself wouldn't be dragged along by the IPC.
Besides, now that he possessed power of this caliber, the IPC thinking it could casually order him around to do things he didn't want to do—that was wishful thinking.
Smiling proudly, he spoke politely to Sylvester, who had just warned him. "Shopkeeper Sylvester's Curio Trash Cans truly live up to their reputation. Of course, if there are more gains to be had, I certainly wouldn't mind."
Sylvester replied in kind, half-jokingly. "Naturally—so long as your luck holds, and you pay."
Aventurine turned around and took out three more trash cans.
In his excellent mood, he no longer cared whether his luck was good or bad.
Open them. Just open them!
There was only one thing he absolutely had to do.
Earlier, his successful reverse flag had netted him a purple curio, leaving him overjoyed. He decided to promote this "advanced experience" on a large scale—every single opening would be accompanied by the same ritual!
His hand kept patting the lid of the trash can as he muttered under his breath. "O Amber Lord above, no matter what green or black curios I get, I won't dislike any of them. Even if it's something like the [Resentment of the Hapless Ones], I will offer it whole to the supreme Aeon of Preservation!"
Listening to his wish, Sylvester propped his chin up, his eyelid twitching slightly.
Uh… does this count as threatening an Aeon of Preservation?
Unless THEY had some particularly unusual hobby, there was no way such a wish could be fulfilled, right? Oh—wait. Even if THEY did, THEY wouldn't be able to interfere with trash cans anyway.
Alright, conclusion reached: the Amber Lord has a special hobby!
While Sylvester's imagination ran wild thanks to Aventurine's prayer, Qingque, on the other hand, was staring at Aventurine's movements with an unusually intense level of focus.
What he opened didn't matter to her. How he opened good stuff—that was what mattered!
The Divination Commission believes in science!
As the one who had excavated the Jade Abacus from ancient texts, reorganized it, and brought it back into prominence, she knew very well that all gambling was ultimately a game of probability.
That was precisely why she absolutely refused to believe that Aventurine had mastered some mystical ritual to boost his luck.
And so, without blinking, she stared at him, waiting for the result.
After finishing his prayer, Aventurine reached out and lifted the lid of the first trash can.
A burst of purple light erupted forth.
Qingque's eyes immediately widened.
A double proc?
No problem! Two purples in a row wasn't anything unheard of—people had done it before. Just a low-probability event!
Even at the risk of being blinded, Qingque kept watching.
Aventurine didn't stop. He opened the next trash can, and yet another burst of purple light appeared!
"I—!" Qingque choked on her words.
A triple streak? Even if it wasn't as strong as a gold curio, this was absolutely unprecedented!
Was the luck of Sigonia-IV's lucky child really this outrageous?
Aventurine's movements still didn't pause. In the blink of an eye, the third lid was pulled open. The moment Qingque saw the color of the light inside, she cried out, "I-I-I—my Reignbow Arbiter!"
What appeared in the third trash can was—yet another purple glow!
What was this called? A four-hit transcendence?
Counting the [Spirit Bomb], that made a full four purple curios! That was even rarer than gold light!
As the glow dispersed, Qingque ground her teeth for a moment before finally letting out a pitiful sigh, her face full of despair. "I once believed in science."
Recalling her recent nights of consecutive losses upon losses upon losses, she couldn't help but mutter softly, "If I had this kind of luck, wouldn't I win at cards until I had no friends left?!"
"Look at you, no ambition at all." Sylvester rolled his eyes at her.
Still, it suited her perfectly. The broad, proper road Fu Xuan laid out for her was something she walked with reluctance—but on these trivial details, she was obsessively persistent.
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