Chapter 742: Lang in Ge Lang

The house wasn't far away; Bai Lang knocked these two guys out again, picked them up, and headed to the spot. To avoid being spotted by the guard at the door, he employed the Heavenly Ladder martial art. Holding the two men, he tapped his toes lightly against the wall, borrowed the force, and shot straight up. He wouldn't fly outright unless necessary—having cultivated his martial arts to this level, he was hardly different from an earthly immortal; the ability to fly as wind and light had already converged with the Daoist arts.

Bai Lang easily reached the ninth floor, kicked the window open in midair, and with his soft energy the window suffered no damage. He threw the two men to the ground, then, following what the Rinpoche said, he put all three million into two large bags and left through the window again. Bai Lang also observes the robber's code: steal wealth, not lives; if you take a life, you don't take money. As for whether these two call an ambulance or the police after they wake up, that's up to them.

Bai Lang still had to rush to the next place; the second household was actually still conducting a ritual—this time not a multitude of believers but three believers together with a Rinpoche. The ritual seemed to be a blessing rite. Bai Lang propped himself up with a single arm, pointing his finger on the windowsill to look inside. 'Wow! So much money! They even shaped it like Treasure Pagoda Mountain—how do these ash-smearing heretics all get richer than each other? As a decent gentleman like me, I'm always broke.'

'Well, I guess I have no choice but to rob the rich to help the poor—enforce Heaven's will!' Bai Lang used his Internal Force to burst the window bolt from afar, then entered the room as lightly as a breeze; a flick of his body and all three passed out. He calmly gathered the cash shaped like Treasure Pagoda Mountain, then pinched the Rinpoche's neck with a casual hand, saying, 'Tell me where you've hidden the money.' As he spoke, his eyes flashed with a fierce light. This Rinpoche was clearly not tough‑minded; he immediately spilled everything about where he'd stashed the cash.

'Hmph, your words are incomplete and untrue. You're still not giving up, huh.' Bai Lang saw at once that the man was lying, shouting, 'Monster! I'll make you reorganize your words!' He jabbed his finger into the man's body, simultaneously sealing his mute point and performing the Muscle Severing Mispulse Hand—this could be called quite a torture. The Rinpoche's neck instantly swelled, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, his eyes glaring like copper bells, while large beads of sweat pattered down.

His body was like a fish on a cutting board, twitching on the ground. 'Does it hurt terribly? Feels great, huh?' Bai Lang's mocking voice rang out; he jabbed again to stop the torment. This was a disorder of tendons and bones with meridians flowing backward, and since the Rinpoche is an ordinary person, substituting a martial artist with Internal Force would make it a fate worse than death, whereas an ordinary person can endure it more easily. The fellow's monk's robe was already soaked, and a puddle of water had formed on the floor.

Now he was being honest, spilling everything in detail. Bai Lang swept his Divine Sense over him and said, 'Oh, you're still laying an ambush... you want money, not your life—impressive, impressive.' He also admired the man inwardly, so he stopped the torture—the key was that there wasn't enough time to keep dragging this out. This haul should net him over two million, and Bai Lang was satisfied—after all, he was here to rob the rich to help the poor, not to punish evildoers.

The Rinpoche was just swindling money and sex, not yet at the point of murder for profit; his scams mainly targeted the wealthy—who among the lower‑class workers would believe a Rinpoche? Everyone can just go to a temple to pray; Rinpoches are too expensive. A Rinpoche who really does evil will naturally be dealt with by the state, so this isn't Bai Lang's business to meddle in. Bai Lang lightly tapped the shaven‑headed Rinpoche's skull, and the guy passed out instantly.

Bai Lang hurried off with the big bags; he had already rented a hotel room and was secretly moving the loot in and out through the window. This time he first tossed back the roughly one hundred thousand he had collected, then rushed to the Rinpoche's residence to collect more. The third Rinpoche also cooperated, and the three Rinpoche together contributed about eight million to Bai Lang, making him rich overnight—Bai Lang even couldn't be bothered to return to the shared rental, since there was nothing there worth taking.

He had his wallet and ID on him, and a phone in his hand; as for those few clothes and shoes, they were just external things, so he let the landlord deal with them. He didn't even want his deposit back—now the small hotel room held over eight million, who cares about anything else? As he muttered, 'Well, that's why they say a poor ghost's turnaround mainly relies on criminal law.' He thought buying lottery tickets to get rich was out of the question; compared to that, robbing Rinpoches was more realistic, reasonable, and easy.

'Will they file a report?' Bai Lang wondered, but he was already working on solving these problems—first he'd put the money in the small hotel and hang a 'Do Not Disturb' sign outside. Given the establishment's character, the cleaning staff definitely wouldn't come in. He hurried to buy a few suitcases for the cash, and finally he still needed to change his phone and clothes; as for how to leave the Capital, neither high‑speed rail nor flights were possible because they'd inspect luggage.

Putting the money in the bank or openly admitting he'd done something illegal amounted to the same thing, so Bai Lang still had to take the cash southward. As for how to spend it, he might need to look into money laundering; but if he wasn't considering buying property or investing, simply leaving the cash in the room to take as needed wouldn't be a big issue—after all, he still planned to work, had no taste for luxury goods, and would normally stay under the radar of the authorities.

Bai Lang intended to travel on foot with his suitcases, and if he used his Lightness Skill he could rely on night movement to cover at least two or three hundred li in a single night—this was still with him not intending to make a sensational splash quietly; otherwise he could dash from the Capital to Hainan's Ends of the Earth in one night. By day he would stay in hotels, and sometimes, to avoid drawing attention, he'd even extend his stay by two days before checking out—after all, he runs fast at night.

Of course the nationwide ID‑linked system could still track his movements, but Bai Lang's pace isn't remarkable; at bottom it could simply be explained as him hitching rides, which is quite normal. In BJ City, the three Rinpoches didn't file a report—after all, it's hard to explain, and since they weren't robbed in plain sight they could claim they'd all just entered meditation together, otherwise believers would have reported it long ago.

It's estimated that these Rinpoches will step up their business to make up the loss, and of course we can't rule out that they'll start quietly inquiring about marvels and oddities—people in this line of work tend to be a little superstitious about what they preach, and Bai Lang's demonstrated abilities naturally carry a hint of the supernatural. Bai Lang has now arrived at Magic City, his former hometown. He plans to loaf around in Magic City for half a year before anything else—he's quite accustomed to food, clothing, shelter, and travel.

Clothes mean nothing to a big guy like him; for lodging he just takes a long‑term hotel suite, food is whatever—here there's everything, and getting around he can rely on the developed public transit or ride‑hailing services; with eight million in hand, he can indulge however he likes.