"What a pity," the Museum Director said, taking a sip of his clear tea, a smile playing on his lips as he addressed Zheng Zha, "Europe nowadays seems addicted to adding sugar cubes or milk to their tea. I once hosted travelers from the Orient; for them to brew just a small pot of this clear tea—the flavor was absolutely exquisite. That, my dear Zheng Zha, is the true taste of tea. Mysterious East, much like the mysterious you—can you tell me where you heard about the Scorpion King's treasure? I refuse to believe it was leaked by someone among our Guardian lineage unless it was the descendants of Imhotep’s priests. Did you learn the location of the Scorpion King's treasure from them?"

Zheng Zha chuckled, nodding thoughtfully. "Truthfully, if this were the real world, I couldn't disclose any information about it to you at all. Moreover, if our team hadn't accumulated three members who had unlocked their gene lock, revealing such details would have incurred point deductions. But now, it's fine; I can speak freely without penalty. I am a person from a different world than you."

The Museum Director showed no sign of surprise; instead, he quietly took another sip of his tea. "When you all vanished outside the tomb that time, we had already surmised you weren't from this world. So, what exactly is this underworld you speak of? Are you emissaries descending from Heaven?" Zheng Zha immediately waved his hands dismissively, speaking six sentences rapidly. "No, no! When I say another world, I don't mean that. Damn it, you make it sound as if I’m already dead! I’m not saying I’m dead. I mean that my companions and I do not belong to this world; we belong to another. Uh, in short, we are not deceased people—we are very much alive, and we came to this world merely to complete a mission."

The Museum Director paused, then laughed suddenly. "Your mission last time must have been slaying the immortal priest, Imhotep, correct? That task is complete; why have you returned? For greater power and treasure? And you've entered our world alone—have you come back behind your comrades' backs?" Zheng Zha gave a bitter laugh, lowering his head. "No. They... they all perished in battle during another mission. That's why I must return to construct the Sun Scripture and seek the Scorpion King's treasure for vengeance. Whether I succeed in finding it is one thing; whether I strive to look for it is another. I could never face my comrades when they are resurrected if I had to tell them I spent all this time idly drinking tea and chatting here. It’s as simple as that—I wouldn't be able to meet their eyes."

The Museum Director shook his head. "It’s not that I won't help you, but I truly don't know how. The Scorpion King’s treasure is merely a legend. First, you must obtain the golden armband left by the Scorpion King, and then use the information inscribed upon it to locate the Scorpion King’s Pyramid. But this is all just myth. We don't even know if the armband still exists, let alone the location of his pyramid."

"But even if we obtained the armband, and even if we found the pyramid, we would still have to stop you from awakening the Scorpion King. Because if you challenge him and fail, he will lead his army of Reapers to destroy the entire world. For us, the descendants of the Guardians, our greatest duty, besides watching over the immortal priest Imhotep, has always been to monitor the movements of the Scorpion King’s Death Army. Therefore, we cannot agree to your request!"

Zheng Zha sighed. He considered for a moment. "Then at least grant me a few small favors. I need to excavate the collapsed Hamunaptra to retrieve the Sun Scripture buried within. This requires a huge workforce, but I will hire laborers for that; you don't need to worry about it. I only need you to ensure those workers are not harmed and that the supply lines remain secure. Can you grant me this request? Consider it repayment for helping you eliminate Imhotep."

The Museum Director also sighed, thinking it over. "I believe that specific request shouldn't be an issue, but we must dispatch personnel to oversee your excavation activities. Any gold unearthed will belong to the Guardian clan, and Imhotep's remains will be taken into our secret custody for safekeeping. You cannot interfere with this."

Hearing this, Zheng Zha immediately nodded in agreement. "Of course, those conditions are acceptable. Even if you hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't take the gold or Imhotep's body. Those are absolutely fine. Besides those matters, I hope you can help me contact O’Connell and Evie. Are they doing well now?"

The Museum Director let out a soft chuckle. "They are doing wonderfully, actually. They just returned from their honeymoon in Africa a few days ago and have now bought a villa in England—paid for, naturally, with the gold bricks you provided. They are living quite comfortably. However, that woman has never been content. Because the existence of the Book of the Dead is real, she firmly believes there are many secret treasures in this world—like the golden mask from Mayan legend said to turn people into vampires, or the seven crystal skulls rumored to unlock the secrets of the lost civilization of Atlantis. In short, this woman is mad with the desire to find relics. Just a few days ago, I received a letter from her, asking me to issue a letter in the Museum's name to deceive her husband, O’Connell, so she could escape England for further adventures."

Zheng Zha let out a low laugh. Such behavior was entirely characteristic of Evie. It seemed O’Connell would know no peace even after marrying her. He considered for a moment and continued, "Then can you contact them? Invite them to Cairo in my name, tell them I need their help—request it as a comrade who once fought alongside them. Say exactly that."

The Museum Director sighed again. "If we send a telegram, they should receive the message quickly. But traveling from England will take about ten days, maybe half a month. If they rush over immediately, you should see them in about fifteen days."

Zheng Zha nodded. "Then I leave everything to you. Oh, right, I need to hire a large number of people, so money is essential. Can you help me contact a reputable bank? Preferably one with a global reputation, as I need to sell a substantial amount of gold."

The Museum Director paused, thinking. "If you want a bank with an international reputation, the National Bank of Abyssinia branch operating in Cairo, established by the British, is quite good. Failing that, there's Citibank in the US, and a few others." Zheng Zha quickly interjected, "Let's go with Citibank. I've heard of that bank; it seems quite famous worldwide. Director, please prepare an empty, discreet room for me. Heh, I can’t exactly bring gold bars to meet the branch manager of Citibank, can I?"

Although the Director found Zheng Zha's words puzzling, he complied, locating an unoccupied room in the underground storage vaults as requested. Then, he watched as Zheng Zha pulled a large sack from his coat. Holding the sack, Zheng Zha began to tip it downwards ceaselessly, as if performing a magician's trick. The sack, which clearly looked foldable, nevertheless yielded an endless stream of gold bars and ingots. Only after pouring out roughly one cubic meter of gold did he close the sack and put it away, then looked toward the Director with a smile. "Is about one cubic meter of gold enough? That’s over nineteen tons. I wonder if even that bank can swallow such a massive amount of gold."

The Museum Director was left utterly dumbfounded, his attention clearly not on the gold, but rather fixed on the spatial bag with the intense focus of a predator. Without waiting for Zheng Zha to react, he lunged towards him and grabbed the spatial bag.

Zheng Zha didn't mind; he simply handed the bag over. "Here, take a look. Be careful not to turn the opening downward, or everything will spill out."

The Museum Director clearly wasn't listening to instructions anymore. He was completely absorbed, studying the pouch. He stared at it rapturously for a long time, even reaching a hand inside to feel the material. The man acted like an excited child, chattering to himself. Zheng Zha ignored him, tugging the Director toward the museum exit. His time was not meant for idle games. He had gold to exchange, laborers to hire, supply routes to organize, tools to procure for those workers, and negotiations to conduct with the Guardian clan regarding security and monitoring the excavation pace—a mountain of tedious tasks. As he pulled the Director along, Zheng Zha grew ever more resolute in his conviction: the "Main God" would never leave these horror movie worlds uselessly. Since it required substantial reward points and a D-rank side quest to enter, this world had to be worth the effort. He became increasingly certain he would obtain the Scorpion King’s treasure, even without the promise of points or side quests; the very existence of that Death Army alone justified this dangerous venture.

"Strive hard to become stronger! To live! To take revenge!"

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