I open a restaurant in Mysterious Recovery

Chapter 685 Kings and Kings, Freedom and Faith

What's wrong with sheepdogs?
The missionaries and landlords could see through the manor owner's current state, and the manor owner could see through their thoughts as well. It was just that their positions were different, and they could not agree with each other's choices.

The first two, while acknowledging Lin Yuan's terrifying power, were unwilling to lose themselves.

Even if he is a missionary, it is unknown how much faith he actually has in God.

On the contrary, the plantation owner, a slave owner who made a living by having gardeners collect flowers and plants, actually took the missionary's job and wanted to bring the faith he endorsed to this chaotic land.

Tsk tsk tsk tsk!

Sometimes the missionaries even wondered if they should give this code name to the plantation owner.

"By the way, I heard there's a captain who's been active around here. You haven't caught him yet, have you?" the missionary suddenly asked, his tone a little strange. "Or is it because he looks the same as the shopkeeper that you went easy on him?"

"You mean Zhang Jun, codenamed Ghost Heart? Don't worry, he's in this city, and there's no way he can escape. As for what to do after we catch him, that depends on what the shopkeeper thinks. Maybe he needs more sheepdogs too."

The manor lord's gaze drifted further afield. "God loves humanity, but the world is too vast, and God's gaze cannot fall upon every one of His people. Therefore, He needs sheepdogs like us to herd His land. Right now, God has too few sheepdogs, and such a position is not something anyone can obtain or possess. Zhang Jun's strength is not bad, but whether he is qualified depends on the Lord's attitude. After all, to the Lord, the difference between our strengths is not significant; it's merely the difference between a weak ant and a strong ant."

This person is beyond saving.

The missionary stopped speaking, and so did the landlord.

On the rooftop of a thirteen-story building near the suburbs of New York, a man dressed in tattered clothes, looking like a beggar, sat in front of a canvas, intently painting, just like an artist.

The painting depicts the large city of New York, but the details are somewhat blurry and not rendered very realistically, as if obscured by a filter.

Perhaps because the building is so high up, the wind around it is a bit strong and it's also a bit cold.

On the wall behind the painter, a black figure had appeared out of nowhere, and the wall near the figure had turned a ghastly white, like a curtain.

The painter stopped painting, looked back, and then focused his gaze on a spot a little further away, where an old man stood with his hand raised.

His arms were thick and strong, but he didn't lower them, as if there was something on them preventing him from pulling them back.

"It seems there are only the three of us left. Everyone's so busy. It's the first time the Peace Hotel has come to the West, and not a single person has come to join in the fun," the painter said calmly, his expression unreadable.

The old man with his hand raised walked over, glanced at the black and white figures on the wall, and said, "We're just one target, but before that, we may have other enemies. The manor lord has been affected and will be our biggest obstacle."

The painter shook his head. "Obstacles? What obstacles are there? We're not here to kill or fight. We're just here to join in the fun and find out what's going on. That's all."

When facing the unknown, we must be sufficiently vigilant.

The Peace Hotel incident has caused a great stir online over the past ten months, and ordinary Western ghost tamers have shown polarized attitudes towards it.

Some people regard the Peace Hotel as a deity.

Yes, some people consider the Peace Hotel a lie.

But at their level, as kings, they were well aware that the Peace Hotel did exist, and even more aware that the "manager" was likely far more powerful than they were.

If the East weren't so dangerous, and if they hadn't had a grudge against the Asian Ghost Tamers headquarters, making them vulnerable to attacks or even sieges in the past, they would have gone to investigate long ago instead of staying abroad without making any moves.

Is it that they don't want to?

No, it's the situation that doesn't allow it.

Now the Peace Hotel is finally extending its reach overseas, and it's even going so far as to open a branch. This is a perfect opportunity to test the Peace Hotel's strengths and weaknesses.

At the very least, they need to figure out how much the "store manager" has surpassed them, instead of taking action right away. Otherwise, what's the difference between them and brutes?
"If that's the case, then at least I still welcome you for the time being," came the manor owner's voice.

He, along with the landlord and the missionary, had somehow appeared at the edge of the rooftop, their gazes coldly fixed on the three kings: the painter, the coffin bearers, and the projectionist.

In a three-on-three match, at least in terms of numbers, they are not at a disadvantage.

Both sides had enough confidence in themselves, which made the painter somewhat puzzled. "Manor owner, you don't really think that the missionary and the landlord will go to great lengths for you, do you?"

“My reliance is certainly not on them. Don’t tell me you don’t know about the Peace Hotel. Unless you possess power surpassing even God, there’s no way you could kill me. Here…”

He pointed to his head, and white mist began to gather in his eyes. "There is the power of the Lord here. Even if I fight five against one, I am no match for you, and you cannot kill me."

Seed of White Mist?

The painter's expression turned serious. "I've heard about it, but how terrifying it really is, we'll have to try it to find out."

“I really had no intention of attacking you before, but now, I suddenly want to experience the power of the White Mist Seed.” The old man carrying the coffin stepped forward, his tone turning cold.

He was clearly prepared to take action, but instead of acting immediately, he looked down at the city below.

The manor owner, the missionary, the landlord, and the painter all looked over, and even the black and white figures on the wall moved to the outer wall, as if they were looking in that direction.

At this time, in New York City, thanks to the gardeners' activities, most of the ghost riders had been taken to the entrance of the Peace Hotel branch, either as guests or as resources for this branch.

Logically speaking, even if there are minor oversights, they would hide away and not openly cause trouble to attract the gardener's attention.

But in that direction, there were more than a dozen ghost tamers walking openly on the road, attacking a lone ghost tamer and taking him away.

Most importantly, among these demon tamers who shared similar appearances, there was a man who clearly had an Eastern appearance.

And this man happened to be the core figure of this group. "The Shepherd, Chen Qiaoyang? The guy who wanted to be a sheepdog but wasn't chosen by his master." The manor owner recognized the man instantly, but was very puzzled. "Wasn't he in China, hiding from Zhang Xianguang and his group? How did he suddenly come to New York City?"

"It seems the place is much more lively than we imagined," the painter chuckled softly.

The manor owner's eyes flickered. "We'll deal with our business later."

“Of course, please go ahead. We’ll be waiting for you at the branch.” The painter nodded, and the old man carrying the coffin showed no intention of continuing.

The estate owner left, but the missionary and the landlord stayed.

"Is there something you want to say that you've stayed behind? Or do you want to cooperate with us?" the painter asked, voicing his doubts.

The missionary said, "The manager is more terrifying than you can imagine. He may not be the god the manor owner talks about, but I still don't think you're doing well. At least for now, if you dare to make a move, the best outcome will be like the pianist, selling yourself to the Peace Hotel and losing your freedom."

The old man carrying the coffin said quietly, "I've heard that the Peace Hotel comes from the past. It just so happens that I've lived for many years and really want to know which past it came from."

The painter remained silent, and the projectionist also kept quiet; silence meant acquiescence.

"You can't reason with a damned devil. When that era comes, you won't have the treatment of a manor lord. Be careful, he might be brainwashing you every day."

The missionary shook his head and left with the landlord.

"These two have their own plans. They fear the power of the Peace Hotel, yet they are unwilling to submit. A bunch of brainless idiots. Don't they know that being two-faced is the most despicable thing and will lead to the worst outcome?" the painter said coldly, his voice filled with disdain.

The old man carrying the coffin said, "Everyone has their own choices, and they will inevitably pay the price for those choices. What we need to do now is to test the strength of the Peace Hotel. If, as the manor owner says, their strength has reached that level, then everything we are doing now will become a huge joke."

A cold wind blew, and the two of them looked up at the wall.

The outer wall had now transformed into a black and white movie screen, with a dark figure standing in the center. Beside this figure, on the white screen, lines of appropriately sized text were gradually appearing:
“I don’t believe in the existence of gods. So-called gods are nothing more than powerful ghost tamers. The manor owner is quite strong, ranking among the top in our group, but his judgment doesn’t seem very good.”

“The projectionist is right. We’ll only know how strong that person is after we see him in person. Besides, given the manager’s reputation, as long as we follow the rules, even if he’s strong enough that we can’t fight back, we don’t need to worry about being punished,” the painter said.

The old man carrying the coffin said expressionlessly, "If we follow the rules, how can we test his strength?"

"It's very simple. At the Peace Hotel, you can eat and drink, and you can also buy services, including sparring services, right? The pianist is too stupid to try to cause trouble, especially against someone whose skills far surpass his own," the painter sneered.

The old man carrying the coffin thought for a moment, then suddenly sighed, "The fact that we're trying to find a way out here already means that we're inclined to believe the manor lord's words and the existence of God. However, I still want to see just how powerful he really is."

The painter remained silent, and the projectionist stopped using subtitles to express his thoughts and attitudes.

As the old men carrying the coffin said, the moment they started thinking about a way out, it proved that they had begun to feel fear, and that was the most fatal thing.

Of course, this is on the premise that they have an irreconcilable, life-or-death conflict with the Peace Hotel.

The reality is that there is still a possibility of peaceful coexistence between them and the Peace Hotel, so there's nothing to dwell on.

Let's go!

……

"It's really chaotic here. It's supposed to be a big city, but now it's like a giant refugee camp. But this situation is more suitable for me, allowing me to truly develop. I should have come sooner."

On the street, Chen Qiaoyang was hidden among a group of foreign ghost tamers.

Or rather, they are a group of foreign ghost hunters who have died and whose vengeful spirits have been resurrected, and now they are all controlled by Chen Qiaoyang through the supernatural abilities of the ghost shepherd.

The Ghost Shepherd can only unleash his full power when he is surrounded by enough vengeful spirits.

There are thirty-seven ghosts here now, which is far from the limit he can control. Even so, he couldn't develop to this extent back home.

Such treatment used to be something you could barely enjoy only in virtual games.

Now, even though he was forced to come abroad, he suddenly felt grateful to Cao Yanhua. If Cao Yanhua hadn't forced him, he wouldn't have known that life abroad was so great!

Sure enough, someone like me should stay abroad!
Not only can he avoid Zhang Xianguang and his group, but he also doesn't have to worry about being purged. Once he has accumulated enough ghosts around him, who in the world can suppress him?
At that time, Zhang Xianguang, Nie Yingping, and all of them will have to kneel down and call me father!

Thinking of that bright future, Chen Qiaoyang couldn't help but grin, but he quickly composed himself because someone was blocking his way.

He had met the gardeners before, but those gardeners had also become part of the ghostly horde around him.

Now, it seems the owners of these gardeners have come knocking, which makes Chen Qiaoyang a little nervous. "Oh, it's Lao Zhuang. Why aren't you at the shop with the boss? What are you doing here?"

He had fought against the manor owner in the virtual game and knew very well how terrifying the manor owner was.

With only thirty-seven ghosts by his side, he felt it wasn't enough to easily suppress the manor lord, so he still needed to take necessary measures.

The manor owner's gaze fell on the few ghosts dressed in gardener's uniforms among the ghost horde, his face grim.

He used to not care much about the gardeners' attire, but after joining the Peace Hotel, he made a uniform arrangement at his daughter's suggestion in order to make God feel that he was acting properly.

That's why his gardener is actually quite easy to recognize.

You can tell just by looking at those clothes. And now, someone actually dares to lay a hand on his gardener on his own turf. They're showing him no respect!
"This is my territory, Chen. You've gone too far. Did you come here specifically to target me?"

(End of this chapter)