The Innkeeper



Lex looked at the five others who were chained to their chairs as well, but did not recognize any of them. He tried to use his spirit sense to see if he could learn anything else, but discovered that not only did his spirit sense not exist, he had none of his cultivation, either. He was back to being a mortal human.

The revelation did not scare Lex, though it did make him realize the peril of his predicament. He could not just shrug away a shot from that gun, like he had assumed. But since Lex knew death in the Mystery trial would not translate to death in real life, he was not worried. All this meant was that Lex would have to play by the rules of the trial.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. Other than polishing whatever skill the trial thought Lex had, this was actually pretty fun. It was like playing a video game, but with ultra realism.

Of course, Lex could only think so because he had long become immune to feeling fear in such situations. Any normal person would be highly intimidated even if they knew the trial would not harm them in real life, because regardless of anything else, it felt real.

"Who are you? What the hell is happening? Do you know who I am? Do you know who my father is?" yelled one of the people tied to the chair with equal measures of anger and fear in his voice.

The others also started struggling to get out of their chairs as panic set in. Yet the man at the head of the table seemed unperturbed. Calmly, he picked up the revolver from the table, and fired a single round into the air, causing everyone to freeze and stare at him in fear.

The tension that filled the room was palpable, and Lex calmly took everything in as he tried to understand the objective of the trial. A faint smell of burnt gunpowder reached him, before it was overpowered by a more revolting smell: the smell of fear. Someone at the opposite end of the table had wet themselves. If it had been someone on Lex's side, he would have at least seen it.

Trying not to let the smell bother him, Lex diverted his attention from the masked man to the other people present. There were three guys and three girls, all of various ages and ethnicities. There did not seem to be a pattern in their selection.

"Good. Now that everyone has calmed down, we can focus on the truly important things."

The man placed his revolver down on the table, and reached into his pocket to pull out a new deck of cards.

"Although, that in itself is such an obtuse statement, is it not? What really is important in life?"

The man talked slowly, emphasizing his pronunciation of each word, as if he could not tolerate a single mistake. Upon noticing that, Lex began noticing other details of the man. His clothes, although not new, were finely pressed without a single crease in them. He was wearing fine, black leather gloves that had the faint indication of use, but remained neat and tidy.

"We hear in the media that it's important to enjoy the small things in life, the little moments. To stop and smell the roses, enjoy the journey along the way, and such."

He neatly unwrapped the plastic, sealing the case for the cards, before taking the cards out and removing the two jokers. Then he began shuffling.

"I have my own theory about what's important in life, though. I think, in life, it's important to live, rather than just exist."

His technique in shuffling formed an even rhythm, the sound of new cards smoothly sliding over one another, forming a soft din in the silence between the man's words.

"But what does that even mean - to live? It's philosophical, but at the same time, I think it's rather simple. It means to do things with purpose. To wake up early when you can sleep in, for you have a direction. To wear a certain set of clothes over another, because they will serve you better in different circumstances. To have each and every action filled with meaning, all working towards a specific goal."

Lex wondered if the monologue was for him to hear specifically, or it was just the character of the man at the head of the table. He still could not exactly determine what his trial's purpose was.

"But in the mundane life, we often confuse simply existing with having purpose. We wake up early to go to work to earn money to eat food to continue living so that at some given interval of life you may experience pleasure. There are a lot of actions there, and they all give the illusion of purpose, but ultimately, it is just an illusion.

"So then, we now identify another aspect of life that is important. To try to differentiate between living with purpose and just existing. But for beginners, it can be difficult. So let's try something simple, hmm? The purpose right now is to survive, and the action is to play a game. So, in summary, let's play a game with the very important purpose of survival."

The man quickly began sliding cards to each of the people chained up to the chair, his actions fluid and precise. Even though Lex was at the far end of the table, three cards smoothly slid across the table to him, stopping just within the limited reach of his chained hands.

Various thoughts went through Lex's mind as he absorbed everything that was happening around him, from the softly sobbing girls to the hyperventilating old man. But, most of all, Lex was observing the actions of the man at the head of the table. Though he had not yet discovered the purpose of the trial, he decided to stop observing silently and try to participate. After all, he doubted his special skill was just playing games.

Before the man was able to put away the deck and continue his speech, Lex spoke.

"Didn't you just say we should live life with purpose? So why are you depriving yourself of the purpose you're providing us? Deal some cards for yourself and join us. Or else, how will you know if you're simply existing as a dealer, or actually living life?"

A few things changed as soon as Lex spoke, and he immediately understood what the purpose of the trial was.