"Make us proud! And don't you dare spit out my name! I'm going incognito!"
Wangchen stumbled forward, caught by the momentum. He found himself standing in front of the counting table before he could argue further.
The deacon looked at him. "Name?"
"Xie Wangchen," he said, his voice cold and clipped.
The deacon sighed. After the Holy Son Gu Zhiwei, everyone else seemed dull. "Dump your bag."
Wangchen hesitated one last time. He looked back at Ji'an. She was making a 'shooing' motion with her hands and mouthing 'Go on!'
He gritted his teeth. 'Fine. I will take the rank. And then I will use the authority to protect him.'
He opened the bag.
It wasn't a cascade. It was an avalanche.
Thud. Thud. Thud!
Heavy, high-quality cores rolled onto the table.
The deacon's eyes, which had started to droop, snapped open.
"Fifty Rank 2 cores," the deacon counted, his voice rising. "Ten... no, twenty Rank 2 Elites."
And then, Wangchen placed the final two items on the table.
