Chapter 115: W Company

Louis’s lips twitched slightly.

Last time it was Mamen, this time it’s Satan?

Do your hell’s demon lords have nothing better to do all day?

Or are you so deeply in love with this land that you keep popping up to assert your presence?

Still, Louis found Alma’s words hard to believe—if this truly involved Satan, how could he be this weak?

Satan—the supreme demon lord of hell—just a faint trace of his influence should be terrifying, not so easily dealt with by me, right?

What he didn’t know was that strength is always relative; to Louis, the black-robed soul seemed weak and unworthy of prestige, but to Alma, it was already formidable.

“So, sir, if possible, destroy the box as soon as you can,” Alma urged.

But Louis only shook his head. “This so-called sacrificial object may just be some demon vaguely resembling Satan—not Satan himself.”

Alma had no reply; she had no concrete evidence, only speculation, and Louis was far stronger than her—his judgment naturally carried more weight and accuracy.

At that moment, Louis revealed the real reason he’d kept her.

“Could I ask about your divination?”

Louis was deeply curious.

Divination in Huaxia’s metaphysical tradition was a profound and highly respected discipline, sharing roots with fortune-altering sorcerers, both descending from the ancient I Ching and maintaining constant presence—many myths spoke of immortals pinching fingers to calculate fate, peering into heavenly secrets.

There were also soothsayers, divine calculators—famous at court: Dongfang Shuo and Xu Fu of the Han dynasty, Li Chunfeng and Yuan Tian’gang of the Tuibeitu, Yuan Tian’gang’s uncle Yuan Shoucheng… each dynasty had official institutions dedicated to this art.

Its influence was so vast that even today, common folk still had fortune-tellers.

Then what of Western tarot divination? What laws governed it?

Alma nodded in agreement; though she’d painstakingly pieced together this method from ancient texts, Louis had saved her life—she had no objection to sharing it.

She then explained tarot divination to Louis, and as she spoke, Louis fell into deep thought.

At that moment, three young people stumbled out of the villa, colliding with Gillmore and the paranormal club members, who were sneaking about.

“Aaaah!!”

“Shut up! Shut up! We’re human!” Gillmore yelled, waving a mop.

His eyes quickly scanned the three—college students, apparently; why was it one boy and two girls? Playing that hard?

No, no—this wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Hey, did you see a guy go in? A really handsome guy?”

Gillmore asked.

The relatively calm divination girl replied, “Yes—he’s in the basement.”

“And… did you encounter anything down there?” Gillmore pressed, as his paranormal club members tensed behind him.

Seeing their reaction, the girl was puzzled—weren’t they allies with that mysterious man? Why were they so scared?

“We did—but he handled it. You—”

“Ohhh!!”

The group erupted in excited shouts, then surged en masse toward the source of the earlier screams.

The three stared, speechless.

Perhaps death-seeking youths simply couldn’t understand each other.

But when Gillmore and his team descended, everything was already over—he saw only Louis and an old woman walking out of the room.

Gillmore edged closer, peering left and right, seeing not a single wound.

The other paranormal club members kept glancing back at the room behind them; seeing the gruesome scene inside, they grew even more excited, faces flushed.

“How’d you get in? Didn’t you call the agent?”

Gillmore grinned, edging closer. “We were just worried something’d happen to you—those screams, man.”

“Tell us—did you meet a ghost? I swear that scream sounded like a woman!”

Louis’s lips curled—he thought these death-seeking youths were decently loyal, but damn, they were fearless to the point of idiocy!

How should he answer?

Probably couldn’t bluff them—fine, he’d never really planned to hide it anyway.

Louis patted Gillmore’s chubby shoulder and said with meaning, “It was a woman. She kills. I wonder if you can handle it.”

Hearing Louis’s confirmation, the group grew even more excited, clamoring to see her.

But Louis refused—joking, the black-robed soul wasn’t that weak; letting her out might injure someone.

Besides, displaying her felt like putting on a monkey show.

He flatly refused them and strode out, taking Alma with him.

Alma had no job—her husband had passed long ago, and her children needed money more than she did—so she was happy to serve Louis, as long as he honored his high-salary promise.

The car started. Gillmore and a few club members whispered among themselves, their eyes fixed on Louis with curiosity and heat—but they didn’t bother him further; apparently, Gillmore had warned them.

The minibus rolled forward, gradually distancing itself from the villa.

Under the twilight, a cool breeze stirred.

It lifted a black robe, revealing the pale face beneath.

Standing on a hill near the villa, watching the minibus disappear, he dialed a number.

“Company, F-zone, R-point #3 destroyed. Suspected wild medium detected, plus a wild diviner. Three remaining test subjects have left.”

A voice came from the other end.

“Investigate.”

“Dispose of the villa.”

Click.

The call ended. The man began dialing other numbers, his tone shifting—now a cheerful salesman, apparently trying to sell the villa.

As he dialed, he turned and walked back toward the villa.

At that moment, the wind shifted slightly, lifting his black robe and revealing a tattoo on his arm—a W.

…

Inside the minibus, Louis and Alma sat in the back seat, eyes closed, consciousness sinking into his mind.

He’d rushed here for this very reason—now, naturally, he’d examine it immediately.

He silently speculated: though the black-robed soul was weaker than him, it was tied to demons—likely granting a new technique.

Rustle!

As pages turned, four glowed brightly, especially the last one, faintly radiating golden light.

Louis was startled—this time, four pages unlocked at once: three more than the Flesh-Eating Demon, two more than Jason!

Holy shit—this isn’t right!

Louis’s heart leapt—he quickly shoved the cloth-wrapped bundle aside, wedged it in place, then squeezed himself to the opposite side, putting as much distance as possible.

Just in case. Yeah, just in case…

Once far enough, Louis couldn’t resist patting the dog’s head. Moqiu felt strange but wagged its tail anyway, wondering what reward the master would give—beef? Pork knuckle? Or that black, unpalatable meat that smelled repulsive but sharpened its teeth?

Louis patted the dog’s head, steadied his mind, and continued examining the pages.

The first three pages contained two from the Esoteric Arts section: the Golden Boy and Jade Girl Art, and the Spirit Eye Art.

The third was from the Witchcraft and Hexes section: Ancient Witchcraft · Devour Ghosts.

All three were easy to understand. The Golden Boy and Jade Girl Art—despite its elegant name—was a sinister technique from southern Jiangnan, commonly used in brothels; the famed “slender horses” of Jiangnan were allegedly derived from this art.

The complete version added cultivation elements: enhancing a woman’s charm, freely altering her aura, improving skin texture and suppleness, and nurturing her primordial yin to boost cultivation.

Hmm—this was the Jade Girl. The Golden Boy was for cultivating male favorites; as for its exact effects… Louis skimmed past, didn’t look closely.

The Spirit Eye Art was a common Daoist technique; every sect modified it differently, yielding varied results. Louis’s version, properly named, was the Yin-Evil Spirit Eye Art.

It required absorbing ghostly essence or yin-evil energy from cursed places to gradually transform the eyes into a spirit-sight technique; when perfected, it granted additional effects—otherwise, it wouldn’t deserve its modifications or ingredients.

The Ancient Witchcraft · Devour Ghosts, however, was a rare witchcraft to enhance the soul. Perhaps due to its ancient origins, it was brutal and cruel: forging a demonic stomach to devour evil ghostly essences.

The soul is the essence of a person; consuming souls, if properly digested, enhances one’s mental power. With strong mental power, and a powerful scripture, one could even reverse-nourish essence and qi.

Cultivation base would naturally strengthen.

All three techniques were extraordinary—one solved spirit-sight, two accelerated cultivation. Yet the more exceptional they were, the more uneasy Louis felt.

No way.

I just cast a baited hook once—how could I be this unlucky and actually run into Satan?

Could David have secretly followed me?

Louis glanced around—no cars followed. His gaze settled on the box. He made his decision: if things turned bad, he’d ditch it immediately!

He took a deep breath and looked at the final page—the one glowing with golden light, clearly special.

One glance, and his eyebrows twitched violently.

It appeared to be a single page, yet contained infinite depths—his gaze made the page seem to expand instantly.

It depicted a vivid, ever-shifting visualization.

Or: bleached bones, countless skulls forming a tower of bone, a pale skull at the peak like a jewel, holding a flower in gesture.

Or: mountains, rivers, seven-star swords slaying demons, a green-robed Daoist holding a sword like a divine warrior, expressionless.

The empire and its altars, righteous qi in Confucian robes, a Confucian scholar holding a tablet, listening sternly to the emperor’s command.

And finally, a fourth image—merging the three, yet uniquely strange, awkward in every detail.

The empire and its altars, beautiful women in armor, ministers bowing, boundless divine power—then, in an instant, all turned to bleached bones and ash, leaving only the central figure, eternal, seated as sovereign!

Four images, each radiating inexplicable symbolism, shaking Louis’s spirit.

His history knowledge was patchy, but he recognized common and obscure references—these three images clearly represented the three great ancient schools: Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism.

That white bone stupa resembled the Buddhist White Bone Contemplation from legend, but it wasn’t quite right.

That sword for slaying demons resembled the Daoist Seven-Star Sword Contemplation, yet it too was off.

As for the final figure wearing the Confucian crown, no explanation was needed—the Confucian school had ruled the ancient kingdom for over two thousand years, but Confucianism wasn’t a religion; it had no contemplation techniques!

But what about the last painting?

It fused the first three, yet resembled none of them—could it be… another painting made by the Left Dao Divine Lord?

Louis was utterly baffled; he felt the contemplation image combining all four paintings was truly magnificent, yet something felt wrong—why had such a thing suddenly appeared?

At that moment, a message entered his mind, answering his questions.

It turned out Louis had indeed encountered Eldiki’s sacrificial vessel, but Eldiki was gone—the vessel was merely communicating with his residual power. As for where it had gone?

Judging by history, perhaps it was killed by Christ, perhaps subdued, perhaps absorbed—either way, its power still lingered.

Louis encountered it, but due to his limited vision and cultivation base, he couldn’t recognize its true nature. Yet the Left Dao People’s Canon’s instinct recognized the essence of that power, and thus naturally transformed.

This prematurely appearing contemplation image came from the Left Dao Chapter, part of the core inheritance, and the next cultivation method after completing Qi Gong (Foundation Establishment perfected).

Everything actually had its logic—the so-called Qi Gong was merely meant to lay his foundation; otherwise, it wouldn’t have been the original, gentle version with no distinct attributes.

Once his cultivation base grew and he ventured out to train and deepen his practice, he could unlock the inheritance step by step—this was also the arrangement made by that one for the inheritor.

But perhaps even the Divine Lord who left this inheritance hadn’t anticipated how bizarre America was—high-level entities here still seemed fond of leaving behind fragments.

Even the Demon King of Hell frequently wandered the mortal realm!

Simply searching around could turn up residual power from a major demonic force of a divine system!

Both of these powers were utterly beyond any standard.

They were far beyond what Louis, who had possessed the inheritance text for only a few years and hadn’t even cultivated magic power yet, should ever encounter.

There was no choice—the Canon’s faint instinct had to act swiftly, delivering a portion of the core inheritance ahead of schedule to accelerate the inheritor’s progress.

Hoping he could gain some means of self-preservation, so that in the future he could expand the legacy, enabling the Divine Lord to spread this lineage, transforming this new path from Left Dao into a new orthodox doctrine.

After receiving this message, Louis stood stunned.

Damn, America really was something else—it had forced the inheritance text to alter part of its transmission method and respond in advance.

This further proved the power levels here: the high ones soared to the roof, the low ones sank to the ground.

The gap between them was too vast!

“Fuck, what a fucked-up place.”

(End of Chapter)