The imam of the slums accepted the pouch and checked its contents.

Inside were twenty silver coins.

That was enough to build a small house in the slums—a downright fortune.

“If there’s no time, then one must make time, mustn’t one? What brings a noble person such as yourself to seek out someone as lowly as me?”

“You sweet-talk like your tongue’s been dipped in honey the moment someone hands you a bit of money.”

“You’ve given such a vast sum in donation to a lowly imam like me. Surely Allah will bless you greatly for it. And when you are blessed, you shall be exalted accordingly.”

“A blessing from Allah, huh? Fine. Then let’s see if I can earn one. This isn’t the sort of thing I’d normally say in the middle of a crowded street, but I need your help.”