Chapter Four: The Great Thief Da Vinci

When the abbot arrived at the Hall of Arhats, a delicious aroma was already wafting through the air.

Oh no, that’s the smell of meat...

My Heavenly Howling Dog!

The eighteen arhats were gathered around a table, thoroughly enjoying a sumptuous lunch.

“What are you eating?” the abbot asked, his brows furrowing as he spotted half a large, plump pig on the table.

This...

He was instantly moved to tears, his eyes brimming. He was so touched he nearly wept—Xiao Yan, that scoundrel, hadn’t finished off the pig after all; there was still more than half left...

The eighteen arhats, startled by the abbot’s voice, hurriedly tried to shift the blame. “This... this was brought here by Xiao Yan...”

The abbot’s eyes darted about, quickly picking up on the situation. He blinked, signaling as he asked, “I’m asking you, what is this?”

But the eighteen arhats, being rather straightforward men, meekly replied, “It’s pork...”

“I reckon you don’t really know what this is, do you? Well, I’m not sure myself... but it certainly looks delicious... almost like a giant potato... Why don’t we all eat it together?”

Sensing the situation, the abbot quickly interrupted the foolish arhats’ honest response.

“Potato? Are potatoes ever this big? But this is clearly—”

Yet the eighteen arhats still didn’t catch on.

The abbot shot them a fierce glare...

It took them a moment, but then realization slowly dawned...

So, as long as we don’t expose the truth, nothing happened and we all eat together, right?

Is that what you mean, abbot?

The eighteen arhats glanced at the abbot, then at the fat pig on the table, and swallowed hard.

Ever since they broke their vows that one time, they had become utterly addicted to pork.

“Indeed, what a giant potato—how I’d love to eat it... Let’s all enjoy it together...” one of them said.

The abbot nodded in satisfaction. “Very good. Then let me divide up this... ahem, this potato.”

Under the watchful eyes of the eighteen arhats, the abbot stepped forward and swiftly plucked eighteen stray bristles from the pig’s skin.

Swish, swish, swish...

The arhats marveled at his speed, but then suddenly noticed a coarse hair had appeared before each of them.

What was the meaning of this?

Abbot, what are you playing at?

The simple-minded arhats looked at each other in confusion, wanting to toss the bristles aside and urge the abbot not to bother with such trifles—after all, the hair was edible too, no need to waste time, just get on with it...

But by then, the abbot was already hunched over the half pig, eating away with gusto.

“Aren’t you going to eat? Why aren’t you eating?” he asked, mouth full of meat, then pointed at the bristles in front of the arhats. “Quick, while it’s hot. It won’t be as good cold.”

Eat it hot? Eat a bristle?

...

“Abbot...” The eighteen arhats gazed at him with aggrieved eyes, but he remained unmoved, devouring the “potato” with relish.

If the spoils are won by strength, why should I share them with you?

...

In less than fifteen minutes, the abbot had finished off the last of the potato, licking his lips with satisfaction, then casting a shifty glance at the eighteen arhats... and then at the bristles before them.

The arhats felt a jolt of panic and hastily stuffed the bristles into their mouths.

...

“You lot...” The abbot was a little disgruntled, but half a pig was more than enough. Suddenly, he remembered something and asked, “By the way, I heard you’ve found out who stole the Book of Tendon Transformation?”

“Abbot, it’s been confirmed. The culprit is the master thief, Da Vinci,” the eighteen arhats answered in unison.

“The master thief Da Vinci?”

“Yes. According to our investigation, this thief is highly skilled, never fails a heist, wears bizarre clothing, and has a peculiar fondness for hiding in latrines... It’s said that once, to steal something, he soaked in a latrine for three days and nights before slipping away...”

“Good heavens... how horrifying...”

Just hearing about it was enough to make one’s stomach churn. Clearly, Da Vinci was no ordinary rogue.

Yet, the mere mention of the latrine made the abbot’s stomach churn uncomfortably... Perhaps he’d overeaten...

At that moment, a figure dashed out of the Hall of Arhats’ latrine...

There was movement!

The abbot and the eighteen arhats tensed, their eyes fixed on the latrine.

A man came running, his pants barely pulled up, exclaiming, “Oh my god... someone was spying on me while I was on the toilet...”

“Xiao Yan?!” The abbot recognized, by the sunlight, the gleaming bald head and the garishly colored clothes.

But why did it seem Xiao Yan was running much faster than usual? Was it just his imagination?

Xiao Yan ran over, rubbing his rear against the abbot’s robe in satisfaction before pulling up his pants and saying, “Abbot, there seems to be an eye under the latrine, staring straight at my butt...”

Hmm?

The abbot and the eighteen arhats exchanged glances, slowly edging toward the latrine...

Bang!

Suddenly the entire latrine exploded, filling everyone’s vision with a sickly yellow hue...

A figure, covered in filth, flew out from the wreckage!

Someone cried out, “That’s... that’s Da Vinci’s signature move, Soaring Through the Sky!”

“Damn! How terrifying...”

Everyone scrambled to get out of the way, except for the abbot, who fearlessly dashed forward and seized the filth-covered man as he emerged.

Then, with a swift motion, the abbot unleashed his special finishing move.

The Thousand-Year Kill!

...

“It’s you?”

The abbot froze as he recognized the man’s face.

It was the same sharp-eyed thug he had used the Thousand-Year Kill on before... No wonder he’d seemed so shifty back then...

“Damn... Why is it you again!” Da Vinci, master thief, clearly recognized the abbot as well. His gaze flicked uneasily from the abbot to his own rear. “Are you ever going to stop...?”

Because of that finger, he hadn’t been able to relieve himself for three days... He’d hoped the latrine would help him get things moving...

But now, after another Thousand-Year Kill, he probably wouldn’t be able to go for the rest of the year...

The agony of constipation—only those who’ve suffered through it understand...

“Bastard!” Da Vinci growled, refusing to flee this time. He had to settle this score. Spinning around, he struck at the abbot’s bald head.

But the abbot was no pushover. He parried, and with a deft move, shoved Da Vinci back into the latrine...

Though he held the upper hand, the abbot’s stomach began to rumble... and from behind came the voices of Xiao Yan and the eighteen arhats...

“You guys... that pig—did you finish it?”

“The whole potato was eaten by the abbot...”

“What potato? Oh, I forgot to tell you, that pig had started to turn. If you eat it, you’ll get the runs... I was going to have you cut away the spoiled bits and throw them out...”

...

“...”

The abbot’s stomach: grrrrgle grrrrgle...

Will I get diarrhea?

The abbot could no longer be bothered; he focused all his attention forward. “Thief! Hand over the Book of Tendon Transformation and I’ll spare your life!”

But Da Vinci, whom the abbot had just tossed back into the pit, had vanished...

He’d dived into the latrine!

This was one of Da Vinci’s most deadly techniques:

The Dung Dive!

...

The abbot was locked in battle with his own bowels, his face contorted in pain. He knew this opponent was not to be underestimated—two masters could assess each other’s strength in a single exchange...

Da Vinci’s skills were by no means inferior to the abbot’s.

Grrrrgle grrrgle...

His stomach rumbled on, silence closing in around him.

He suddenly sensed a murderous intent approaching from behind... but he was still desperately holding back...

Squelch—

Something slid in from behind—a sound all too familiar, crisp and unmistakable...

“Thousand-Year Kill!” Da Vinci’s triumphant voice rang out from behind the abbot, finally claiming his revenge... He poured all his years of cultivation into that single finger...

...