A priest in North America, what the hell is the Demon Gate system?

"Isn't Afu mute? How come he can talk all of a sudden!"

Just as the surrounding workers were discussing it...

*Smack!*

A slap landed squarely on Pete's face, leaving him completely stunned.

"Evil spirit! Get off Ah Fu!"

The one who did it was an elderly Chinese laborer, his eyes filled with fear, but he didn't hesitate to strike.

Just as Pete was about to say something, another handful of rice was thrown at his head.

The rice grains stung my face, and some even got into my mouth and eyes.

Pete coughed violently, rubbing his eyes incessantly, and repeatedly shouted in English, "Wait! What are you doing..."

Before he could finish speaking, another ladle of hot water was splashed in his face!

"Eek—!"

Pete screamed and rolled on the ground, burning from the heat, spewing out a string of Irish-accented English profanities.

Wang Changming stood on the periphery of the crowd, his brows furrowed.

Li Ang stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching with great interest, nodding occasionally.

"Father...is that really Mr. Pete? He seems to be..." Nia whispered.

"Wait a little longer, let this guy experience more of traditional culture," Li Ang said in a low voice, suppressing a laugh.

Wang Bingbing was startled and moved closer to Li Ang.

Pete was hit with two more scoops of scalding water, one of which was mixed with salt. His body was already injured, and the pain made him howl in agony.

"Alright, alright."

Li Ang then slowly walked forward, reached out and placed his hand on Pete's shoulder. Okay, now he should be called "Ah Fu".

"Gentlemen, leave the exorcism to me."

He turned to look at the workers, a reassuring smile on his face.

The workers looked at Wang Changming.

Wang Changming was silent for a moment, then waved to the workers: "Brothers, you can all go home and do what you're supposed to do. Leave this to the professionals."

The crowd gradually dispersed, but a few young workers remained standing at a distance, seemingly very curious. Wang Changming called out a few more times before they reluctantly picked up their tools and left, looking back every few steps.

Once only the four of them remained, Li Ang quietly suppressed his smile.

He grabbed Pete and pulled him behind a pile of sleepers, pressing his shoulders to make him sit down.

Pete looked up, his face filled with fear and grievance.

"Listen, Mr. Pete Griffin." Leon bent down, leaned close to his ear, and whispered.

"We're in a tough spot right now. If you don't want to go through their exorcism routine anymore, then you'd better listen to me." Li Ang's tone was calm, but it left no room for argument.

"First, you have to pretend to be mute. If you can't speak Chinese, just shut your mouth."

"Secondly, if I tell you to go east, you can't go west; if I tell you to take off your clothes, you can't put them on. Understand?"

Pete opened his mouth, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, "Why do I have to take my clothes off...?"

"It seems our Mr. Afu still needs to undergo a traditional exorcism! I clearly remember him being mute?"

Li Ang stood up abruptly, making a move to go find the workers.

Pete immediately scrambled to his feet and clung to Leon's leg, crying, "I...I'll do what you say, Father! God, please..."

"Hmm?" Li Ang turned his head and looked at Pete with a half-smile.

Pete was taken aback, then immediately realized what was happening, stopped talking, and just kept nodding.

Li Ang smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "From now on, you are Afu. You hurt your head, have some amnesia, and can't speak anymore, understand?"

Pete nodded vigorously.

At this moment, Li Ang looked at the clock hanging in the middle of the camp. It was 1:10 pm.

Li Ang quickly calculated in his mind that the system had given him twenty-four hours.

In other words, they must find a way out before noon tomorrow, otherwise, while others might question it, they themselves will definitely be treated as "peach recipients" by the system and forced to eat purple eggs.

"Father Li? Are you alright?" Wang Changming's voice came from afar.

"It's alright now." Li Ang pulled Pete out, a smile returning to his face.

"The evil spirit has been dispelled, but this brother may have some amnesia and needs to rest for a few days."

"It's a miracle we survived." Wang Changming sighed, then gestured forward with his hand.

"Let's eat first, you must all be hungry?"

Li Ang and the others nodded and followed Wang Changming to the place where they would eat.

The so-called restaurant was actually just a thatched shed with a roof, drafty on all sides, with a few wooden tables and benches inside. More than twenty Chinese laborers were sitting around it, eating their meals with their bowls in their hands.

There was an unpleasant smell in the air, a mixture of sweat, dirt, gunpowder, and stewed meat.

Wang Changming brought bowls and chopsticks to Li Ang and the others. The bowls were rough earthenware bowls with a small chip on the edge, and the wooden chopsticks were worn smooth and shiny.

The food was served in two large wooden barrels, one containing stewed beans until they were very soft, with some chicken floating in it.

The other bucket contained rice, which was steamed until very dry.

"The conditions are simple, please make do with it." Wang Changming said somewhat embarrassedly.

"It's already very good." Li Ang took the bowl, scooped up a spoonful of beans, and then covered it with a spoonful of rice.

Nia and Wang Bingbing did the same. The three of them found a place to sit down, and the surrounding workers looked at them curiously. It was hard for two beautiful women to not attract attention on such a construction site.

Pete also received a bowl, but when he saw what was inside, he looked troubled.

The person in charge of serving the food was another obese white man. Seeing Pete's expression, he frowned and shouted:

"You Chinese, you're lucky you even have anything to eat, why are you being so picky?!"

Pete jumped in fright and quickly shoveled a mouthful of rice down his throat.

The coarse rice almost made him vomit, but seeing the foreman's expression, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and swallow it.

Li Ang didn't care about any of that. Unlike Lao Mei, whose palate had been spoiled by high sugar and high oil, Nia had always lived in a convent and her diet was equally bland. Wang Bingbing obviously didn't like American food either, so she didn't resist it.

While eating, Li Ang glanced around.

Most of the workers were pale and thin, their clothes were tattered, and their hands were covered with calluses and wounds.

Some people's hands were shaking while eating, which was obviously because they were tired, but no one complained; they just ate in silence.

"Is this what you usually eat?" Li Ang asked Wang Changming. Although the food was edible, it was clearly not enough for heavy physical labor. You know, the meals on construction sites in China are really top-notch.

Wang Changming sat opposite them and smiled bitterly upon hearing this: "It's good enough that we have beans to eat. Last month it rained continuously and supplies couldn't be delivered. We ate pickled vegetable pancakes for half a month."

"And their wages are still owed; they haven't been paid for two months."

Nia looked up, somewhat surprised: "Two months? Aren't you going to go find them?"

"We've caused trouble twice. Brian said if we keep making a fuss, he'll fire everyone and replace us with a new batch. It's tough, but we really can't afford to lose this job," Wang Changming said, shaking his head.

A moment of silence.

Upon hearing this, Pete silently picked up his bowl and finished the rest of his food.

It doesn't seem so hard to swallow anymore.