Then a few hours later.

Banglapsy wakes up in a slum dump.

Even the newspaper I wore was stripped off and my body swelled up bright red with a burn.

"Uhh... uhh...! I'm coming...!Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! "

The pain like a needle stick doesn't stop all the time.

In a hazy consciousness, Bankrup sought salvation and reached out.

"Ahh...! Somebody...! Somebody help me...!"

It seemed to me that there was no one on his side in the world anymore.

But there was God.

"What's wrong!?Stay with me! "

A group of girls in dusty robes.

They were the saints of the cathedral in this slum city.

For Banglapsy these days, they are sweeping cranes.

No, I looked like a goddess.

"Ahh...! Thank goodness...!"

As the Virgins rushed over and scattered the garbage, they helped the Bankruptcy wake up.

"Maah, a terrible burn...! Your whole body is swelling up and it really hurts...!"

"Unfortunately, we can't use miracles because we're not real saints."

"But I have medicine. Now, take your pills first."

"Now let's apply some ointment."

Girls embrace the stranger and the fallen Bankrup.

With a hint of pills and ointments, Banglapsey rested as if he had found oasis in the desert.

But it was also a brief incident.

All of a sudden, from outside and inside my body, it was as if I had been burned in Hellfire.

"Ahhh!? Guh...! but... hah!?"

It was so hard to fill my tongue that I couldn't even hear it.

Just touching the dirt on the ground will sting through your body as if you were in a needle mountain.

Just squeeze your breath out of your lungs.

The Virgin glanced down at Bankrup's mouth like a carp launched on land with cold eyes.

"When I asked the homeless people, I thought it was impossible..."

"I can't believe you're really in this dump...."

"Do you remember us?You don't remember, do you? "

"Everyone here is a deeming child with your parents who have been crushed by you and left the world....!"

"What do you say, medicine... no, what's the taste of poison?"

"You will not be able to return to your original body after taking and applying the poison."

"From now on, you will experience the pain like a seizure for the rest of your life."

"I can't stand the pain forever until I'm shocked to death....!"

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch...!"

◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Bankrapsey then languished in the garbage, wandering the border of life and death for days.

There is really no one to reach out to him this time.

... was supposed to be.

In his consciousness, which passes through the turbidity and flashes seven colors like oil floating in the water, he sees something.

"Gorgeous Smart Training Textbooks"

He grabs the book as if he grabbed the meatball of a wild dog from heaven, obsessed with selflessness.

Then the pain draws in wonder, and the moment of peace comes.

"Hmm... this is..."

Banglapsy turned the book while lying down.

It happened to be from the back cover, so it was the last chapter that came into my eyes.

Yes, it was a forbidden chapter that refused to see until the no-touch was glued.

It describes a business in Slum City that used to be part of Gorgeous Smart training.

Bankrapsey frowned on the contents.

"What is this book...?

Why does it say my "temperate stone shop" method...? "

The next moment, Banglapsy was struck by a blow to the head with a club.

... Zughhhhhhh!!

"Oh... the commercial code I thought I invented...Actually, was it based on the training I received when I was young...!? "

Rather than being the original, what was written in the textbook remained as it was.

And with the graffiti everywhere, he notices.

This is the textbook he used, which he kept in his mansion's warehouse.

"Well, the debtors raided my mansion and threw away everything that wasn't money...!"

There were places where the textbooks were loaded so moldably.

It's called "Competitor Disruption Measures."

It told me what to do when a rival store harasses me.

The content covered, by way of example, a number of "crushing" techniques that Banglapsy thought he had invented himself.

... Zugaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

"Hmm... no...! I can't believe everything in my 'crusher'... is stuck inside these textbooks...!"

The textbook is written only from the viewpoint of "when the other person has set it up".

As an author, I would have liked to teach you how to defend yourself, but whether it was Bankruptcy or the know-how of the instrumental side was mine.

"I see... I see, I see...

This book is too wonderful, I unconsciously yearn for the author of this book, and I want to be too...

You were doing money without even knowing it...

Speaking of unconscious, that's not the kind of person I admire...

This book must have been written by Godsmill or Butaphtotta.... "

Banglapsy whispers and confirms the depth of the textbook without any concern.

So, I saw a name that was so fake that I could say it.

That's right.

Gordorf Slam Dog...!