Chapter 455: The Value of Life

???

These gold pieces… can they buy my life?!

Hearing the gentle question echoing in their hearts, tens of thousands of citizens in the shopping plaza simultaneously shuddered, their awareness instantly slipping into daze.

When they regained their senses, these tens of thousands of citizens discovered in utter terror that they were standing rigidly facing the giant money chest at the plaza's center, arranged in a neat, even fan shape.

And atop the chest, nearly as tall as itself, lounged a colossal toad with two stories' height, its two enormous golden compound eyes bulging outward as it regarded each person with keen interest.

…

So… have I just stumbled into another anomaly again?

Touching the scorching-hot badge on his chest, Li Ang frowned, confirmed the status of the ram and the broom, found both still usable, and let out a faint sigh before immediately trying to move his feet.

No, I can't move…

Looking down at his feet, Li Ang was startled to find a giant frog hand with suction cups growing from the plaza floor, firmly adhering to his calves.

On the back of this strange frog hand grew numerous deep bluish-green bumps, resembling copper wheels embedded into the skin—about twenty-three or twenty-four in total.

After confirming he couldn't break free, Li Ang observed the others around him and found they were in the same predicament: each pinned to the ground by a frog hand, struggling and screaming in panic.

Unlike himself, the bumps on the frog hands gripping them were not all deep blue-green—many were cold, silvery-white, and occasionally, a few dazzling golden bumps could be seen.

Gold, silver, copper… it feels like some rule tied to money.

After frowning in thought for a few seconds, Li Ang, with two sets of children's clothing and a knit sweater hanging from his broom, roughly guessed the meaning behind these bumps.

The items piled up by Charles Department Store were indeed far cheaper than market prices, and when he passed through the plaza, he'd been lured by the unusually tempting deals.

Hoping to snag a small bargain and save some money for his family, he wandered the clothing section and bought a few things for his younger siblings; the total price difference from the market average came to about twenty or so copper wheels—matching the number of bluish-green bumps on the frog hand.

So, if you harbor greed, you're caught by a frog hand whose bumps equal the intensity of your greed?

Trying to drop his shopping bags, he found himself still firmly pinned; Li Ang crouched down and touched the frog hand—but encountered no physical substance, and received no prompt from 【Materialist Soul】.

These strange frog hands aren't real—they're manifestations of a rule triggered by the toad's ability. Only by defeating its true form can I escape. But I'm six or seven hundred meters from the toad—how do I even reach it?

…

"Why won't anyone answer me?"

As Li Ang hesitated whether to try the director's red hair, the giant golden toad atop the money chest blinked, sighed softly with disappointment as it gazed at the panicked crowd:

"Humans, you so love money, even worship its magic—but when I bring it before you, following your deepest desires, you refuse to even look at it. Why?"

"Because… because the cost is too high!"

Seeing the giant toad wasn't particularly "violent," seemingly communicative, a man surrounded by scattered shopping bags gathered courage to answer:

"Money's good, but it can't compare to life. Life is priceless."

"No," said the golden toad, turning its gaze to the man, its lips curling in a faint smile:

"From what I know of your species, life can be measured in money—and it's remarkably cheap."

Seeing the monstrous creature look his way, the man instinctively tried to flee—but his legs were pinned by the frog hand sprouting from the ground, leaving him no escape, only a terrified scream.

"You're too loud."

Extending a webbed foot coated in transparent mucus, the golden toad lightly tapped the mountain of gold, plucking up a heap of dazzling golden wheels; its "palm" clenched slightly—and the golden wheels vanished instantly, crossing over thirty meters to pile at the man's feet.

"Sell me your voice. Then you'll learn to be quiet."

With the golden toad's gentle voice, the man's screams and pleas cut off as if strangled—he bulged his eyes in terror, clawing desperately at his throat, yet couldn't even produce a basic "huh-huh."

After directly "buying" the man's voice, the golden toad nodded in satisfaction at the sudden silence of the plaza, then turned to the nearest pair—a trembling young couple—and softly asked:

"What about you? Will you sell me your lives?"

"N-no!"

The husband was too terrified to speak; the wife, fighting back her urge to scream, clung to his arm and shook her head violently:

"Our lives… both of our lives are only one! If we sell them to you, we'll be gone!"

"Is that so?"

The golden toad tilted its head slightly, looking puzzled:

"You say you won't sell me your life—but you've been selling your lives all along."

"We… we haven't! We've never sold our lives!"

"You have."

With the tip of its webbed foot, the golden toad lightly plucked up two golden wheels, blinked its fly-like compound eyes, and spoke without room for refusal:

"These two shiny little things require you to work seven days in a cotton mill, operating machines to process tens of thousands of pounds of raw cotton. Your husband must wear non-breathable rubber boots and soak for five full days in vats filled with chemicals and dyes.

So I fairly judge: your seven days of life equal his five days of life, and his five days equal these two golden wheels. For the past four years, you've been making this exchange—and clearly, you'll continue doing so.

Then why not choose an easier path? Why not willingly sell this portion of your life to me, instead of wasting most of your years in hot, noisy factories, enduring meaningless, repetitive labor?"

Having delivered his conclusion on the value of life, the golden toad began scooping up golden wheels before him, placing each expensive coin one by one at their feet.

As the pile of golden wheels beneath them grew, white streaks gradually appeared in their hair, their facial muscles loosened rapidly, wrinkles deepened around brows and eyes—they had already aged into middle age, and continued aging without pause.

More terrifyingly, though the toad spoke to the couple, golden wheels weren't appearing only beneath them—nearly simultaneously, vast quantities of golden wheels surged forth beneath the feet of over fifty thousand people across the entire plaza.

And with the clinking of metal coins, every person who received "payment" began uncontrollably aging.

(End of Chapter)