The Pot of Avarice felt wronged.
For the first time, someone passed its trial, and there was even someone who broke through the illusion. The joy from these events overlapped, bringing even more happiness.
It should have already reached a dreamlike state of bliss. However, why did things turn out this way?
I did nothing wrong, yet that man filled me with terrifying desires, and this crazy woman landed a punch on my ingeniously crafted, handsome face. Despite doing nothing wrong, why am I so unlucky?
As the Pot of Avarice lay on the ground, its smile vanished, and like a face as despicable as cow dung, two lines of clear tears streamed down. It had no idea what it had done to deserve such treatment.
"No more, there are no more rewards."
Murmuring to itself, the Pot of Avarice sighed deeply. Then it turned its face away, expressing sorrow like an Ancient God spitting out phlegm, "Go play eggs with yourselves."
