Chapter 113

"I am..." A man in a tailored suit, clearly dressed for the occasion, appeared on the screen. He had barely uttered three words.

"Next," Li Daoran said bluntly. The man on the screen flickered and was gone, replaced by the next.

There were so many people in the world and so little time; everyone was chosen at random. Whether there was any inside track, Li Daoran did not know, but it was clear that since people hadn't yet grasped what he was after, there wouldn't be any rigging just yet. The first person had truly been a lucky random pick, but unfortunately, he hadn't seized the opportunity.

Dozens of people had preceded him, all failing to get past their opening lines. Li Daoran skipped them all—generals in uniform, elderly people with white hair, teenagers, and people around his own age. He would glance at them for a second, then hit the skip button.

It wasn't until a man wearing a T-shirt, looking rather thin but clutching a whole bottle of white liquor, appeared that things changed. The man tilted his head back, took a deep gulp, his face instantly flushing red. "This drink," he said, "I've had it for you."

Li Daoran clapped. "Good."

"Cough, cough. I don't usually drink, but for this, I'll drink in your stead," the man said, then cut the video.

Li Daoran’s eyes grew moist. He said loudly, "Good! I’ve had this drink. Thank you, brother."

The next person, clearly unprepared, scrambled to find a drink. Watching the flustered young woman on the screen, it was obvious she had panicked; only then did she realize that speaking required a drink.

Li Daoran shook his head. "Next."

A beauty in a black dress holding a glass of red wine appeared on the screen. She slowly raised the goblet to her lips, but before she could show off her charm, Li Daoran had already called for the next.

At this point, Li Daoran was like someone mindlessly scrolling through short videos. Later, he couldn't even be bothered to speak; with a mere wave of his hand, David knew what he meant.

After watching hundreds, Li Daoran tilted his head and asked Natasha, "Do they think I'm selling alcohol? Do I look like a sick person to you?"

Clearly, ever since the first person earned Li Daoran's approval by drinking, everyone after had tried their hardest to show off their drinking, some even turning it into a performance. But it didn't move Li Daoran in the slightest; he only found it ridiculous.

"You're not 'sick' in that way. You act as if we've treated you poorly. Didn't you see the person holding meat, saying they'd eat it for you?" Natasha gave Li Daoran a sultry roll of her eyes, covering her mouth to hide her laughter, seemingly finding it amusing. She knew his purpose, but it was clear he hadn't found what he was looking for.

"Hey, put one of your pre-selected people on. Set an example. I’ve had enough," Li Daoran said to David.

"We don't have anyone pre-selected; it's all random," David said, looking as if he’d been deeply wronged.

"Hah. I'm hungry," Li Daoran said, crossing his arms.

***

Charles nodded, stood up, and performed a textbook knightly salute to Li Daoran. Instantly, this scene caused a sensation across Europe.

Afterward, as if he had never been injured, Charles maintained the most standard butler etiquette and withdrew.

"I want to eat grapes," Li Daoran said suddenly.

"What kind of grapes do you want?" Natasha stood before Li Daoran, leaning over with a hint of suggestion.

"Mm, Xinjiang milk grapes. They need to be fresh," Li Daoran said.

"Understood." Natasha performed a maid's curtsy and retreated.

Afterward, Li Daoran said, "Pity me? I live better than most of you. Food, drink, flattery, seduction—I lack nothing. I have the best of everything. Do you think I'm insatiable? If you have any dissatisfaction with me, I'm giving you the chance—speak up. I am not an emperor, let alone a god. I am a human, just like you! I won't threaten you with my life; why must you threaten me with yours?"

"I understand you all. You are afraid. You aren't afraid of offending me; you are afraid that someone else thinks you have offended me. What can I even do to you? I can't even leave this house—why are you afraid of me? I won't go insane, and I certainly won't drag everyone down to die with me. Because I, too, am afraid of death—not because of what would happen to you if I died, but because I fear death myself. So why do you think I would threaten you?"

"No one thinks you are a threat to us," a hoarse voice came from the doorway. Chen Ming appeared, wrapped like a mummy with only his eyes visible, a broken arm held against his chest, his eyes visibly swollen, and a crutch in his other hand.

"Chen Ming!" Li Daoran's expression shifted.

Hou Liang hurried to support Chen Ming, saying, "You can still walk?"

"The brothers went a bit easy on me, heh." Chen Ming tried to force a smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

Hou Liang's eyes reddened. "I'm sorry."

Chen Ming shook his head and stood firm on his crutch.

"I leave for a moment, and you go off the rails, Li Daoran," Chen Ming said.

"Wasn't that because I was afraid you were dead?" Li Daoran said with a smile.

"Thanks. Now, let's continue. I think it will be different from here on out." Chen Ming couldn't sit, so Hou Liang helped him to the back of the sofa, where he leaned against the wall.

On the screen appeared a smiling, chubby man with a festive face, his smile and belly reminiscent of the Maitreya Buddha. He picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and scrunched his features in an exaggerated way, as if he had just swallowed poison.

"I'm not much of a drinker, so forgive me. I'm afraid of death, so I'm afraid of you dying—what's wrong with that?" The fat man got straight to the point without any nonsense.

"You're not wrong. Am I the one who's wrong?" Li Daoran retorted.

"You are wrong," the fat man said with a smile.

"Moral kidnapping?" Li Daoran countered.

"Not at all. You've broken the law. Does that not count as being wrong?"

"Which law?"

"You are above the law. That is the greatest violation of all."

"I am not," Li Daoran said.

"No, you are. Whatever the law may be, it can no longer restrain you. That is the ultimate trampling of the law."

"Next," Li Daoran said.

This time, it was an elderly man with white hair, wearing a lab coat, a hooked nose, and deep-set eyes—distinctive features. He took a sip of vodka, exhaled, and said, "Go tell that old man that what he said is nonsense."

David translated respectfully.

"Yuan Muye?" Li Daoran asked.

The old man nodded. "Yes, that old man. Hmph, artificial intelligence. David will give you a set of files later. Go back, memorize them well, and slap that old fossil in the face. Our Water Blue Star is not for him to manage."

"Very well."

"You're not bad." Satisfied with Li Daoran's answer, the old man nodded and turned off his camera.

Next was a dark-haired, elegant woman in an orange qipao, who downed her entire glass of red wine in one gulp.

"Between Natasha and me, who is more beautiful?"