Cold sweat beaded the restaurant owner’s forehead as he prostrated himself on the ground in near despair, gazing up at Su Hong.

Regret churned inside him—he almost wished he could rewind time just to punch his past, arrogant self.

He’d thought he’d seized a chance to bully and plunder freely. How wrong he was! This youth could craft Spirit Cards of such caliber that even the Chris Guild extended a respectful invitation. His depth ran far beneath the surface—and he’d even warned him multiple times!

He should’ve realized sooner this boy was untouchable. Why let rage blind him? Now it wasn’t just about losing face—his life hung in the balance.

Just days ago, he’d heard the prison took in vicious thugs from underground gambling dens.

Locked up with those monsters? He’d be broken, battered, and utterly miserable.

The mere thought sent violent shivers through his body.

Su Hong let out a helpless sigh and leaned down to look at him.

Seeing Su Hong’s face so close, the owner lowered his head in resignation, awaiting judgment.

“Apologize to Lia and her grandfather. Then leave. ‘The world is unpredictable’ doesn’t apply to me. I’m just a victim of circumstance.”

Hearing this, shock and gratitude flooded his chest—he could barely believe he was being spared.

But what stunned him most was the second half: *He never meant to humiliate me. The collapsed floor cost me face. My anger led me here.* Despite having the power to erase him effortlessly, Su Hong never intended to.

He only asked for an apology to Lia and her grandfather—not even for himself!

Such magnanimity! Such spirit!!

His eyes grew slightly moist, chin trembling faintly as he slowly opened his mouth.

Su Hong watched the man’s expression shift… strangely?

He wasn’t sure “strange” fit—but it was definitely *off*.

That look even reminded him of the prison thugs. A chill raced down his spine. *Oh no.*

Suddenly, the owner bowed deeply and bellowed, “Lord Su Hong! I—”

“Wait! Not listening! Get out!”

Su Hong’s triple-barreled interruption froze the man mid-motion.

Just as Su Hong thought he’d snapped out of it, the owner stood, bowed deeply again to Lia and her grandfather, and cried:

“My deepest apologies! I’m ashamed of my past actions! Lord Su Hong, your magnanimity leaves me in awe! I don’t know why you rush me away—but I trust your wisdom! Tomorrow, I’ll return with others to atone properly!”

He gave Su Hong a respectful nod, then hurried off with his staff under everyone’s stunned stares.

Even the Chris Guild steward gaped as if he’d swallowed an egg whole. Turning back to Su Hong, confusion swirled in his mind. *What did this guy do? Why did the owner act so weird?!*

Then he noticed Su Hong rubbing his temples, looking utterly weary.

Masaka?! Σ(°△°)!!

Rumors said the Allied Nations of Beastkin possessed lost arts—mind control, even foolishness-inducing spells. Judging by the owner’s behavior… was it the latter?!

Could bending down have been a covert casting?!

Heavens! The Guild Master only ordered him to buy these novel Spirit Cards at any cost—to have hired Spirit Glyphsmiths reverse-engineer them, mass-produce, and undermine rivals. No one mentioned *this*!

But the Allied Nations were all beastmen, dwarves, elves… and *this* guy?

The steward stole glances. Not strikingly handsome, yet radiating mysterious charm. Elves had wings—he didn’t. And elves didn’t have black hair.

A dwarf? Impossible—his height ruled it out.

Finally, trembling, the steward asked: “Might I… ask… are you… a beastman?!”