Chapter 247: The Fisherman

The shadow sometimes stretched boundless, sometimes coalesced into a colossal maw, sometimes solidified into a human silhouette—as if endlessly shifting, infinite in form.

Yet upon closer inspection, one would realize all that had merely been an illusion; from start to finish, there was only a throne and a hazy black shadow.

The shadow sat upon the throne, motionless, yet a mass of darkness separated from it.

It landed upon a familiar figure.

Limbs severed, body scorched, face unrecognizable—only faint traces of a female form remained; it was the medium woman chosen as the main offering, and she was still alive!

No.

Perhaps she was already dead, merely controlled by the shadow.

The darkness sank into her abdomen, into her blood-drenched, exposed intestines, and swelled—as if… a baby were growing at terrifying speed.

At this very moment.

Countless demons surrounding the shadow all stared at the woman.

Under the gaze of ten thousand demons, the woman stumbled forward with a vacant expression, stepping into the hellish rift forcibly torn open.

Crack—

The instant she stepped out,

The massive rift destabilized, warping space and rapidly sealing shut.

Yet before it closed, within the swirling illusions of the shadow, a vertical pupil seemed to solidify, glancing once at the sky of this world…

In this world,

Everyone who had been preparing to retreat was frozen in shock.

Hell! Hell!

That was Hell!

And those boundless demons… how terrifying!

Westerners generally believe in religion; for them, religion is culture, and culture is religion—long since fused as one.

Even in modern times, with the Church’s decline, rampant materialism, and fractured faith, most still remained churchgoers, if only superficially devout.

Now, witnessing this sight, they stood dumbfounded; lifelong religious indoctrination made them tremble, even unable to grip their firearms!

Pata-pata-pata!

One rifle after another clattered to the ground, followed by soldiers dropping to their knees in prayer—across this entire unit, nearly one-fifth had collapsed onto the earth!

Had there been any clergy present, they surely would have cried out.

Wait, no.

Ed Warren was half a churchman himself—and now he stood stunned, having witnessed the scene of Hell firsthand, deep terror echoing in his heart.

As a ghost and demon expert, he was unlike ordinary people—he understood.

Precisely because he understood, he was even more terrified.

That had been Hell. Since ancient times, those who glimpsed Hell were never ordinary beings or events—but what truly instilled dread was the horde of demons within.

Each one could tear him into a thousand pieces; his vast knowledge even whispered that the entity seated upon the throne, surrounded with such reverent deference by countless demons and greater demons, was almost certainly some demonic god.

Perhaps even a Demon King.

Demon King.

Merely thinking the word made Ed feel as if he could no longer breathe.

Fortunately, the rift sealed, the Hell scene vanished—otherwise, his heart condition might truly have given out.

Yet just as he sighed in relief,

He saw his wife, Luo Lin, drenched in cold sweat, staring blankly at the spot, as if she had seen some horrifying vision.

He had seen this expression only once before—when the Peren family had been attacked. What had happened?

At this moment, in Luo Lin’s eyes,

A grotesque woman, her entire body shrouded in black mist, her skin utterly burned away, transformed into a wisp of darkness and shot skyward like a bolt.

That was not the point.

The point was her belly!

There, she felt an unprecedented depth of evil.

It was no less terrifying than the strange nun’s presence.

She knew—something capable of evoking such fear in her might be an entity beyond Greater Demons…

“Something has come in.”

Luo Lin whispered, trembling.

Then,

Pachi!

She fainted, collapsing into Ed’s arms. “Luo Lin? Luo Lin!”

In truth, Luo Lin had just activated her bloodline power and repeatedly glimpsed higher-tier forces—her fainting now was already astonishing.

“Retreat! Accelerate withdrawal!”

The Yaoguan Bureau officer barked orders.

He wasn’t foolish—this situation was clearly abnormal; retreat was wise. But he still needed to report to his superior immediately.

He pulled out his radio and began communication.

At this moment,

Above the sky,

Louis’s face was grim. He had watched everything unfold, especially the Hell scene—twice.

The first time meant little—just some peculiar place. But the second time, the demons and that throne-bound entity were truly extraordinary!

Especially that throne-bound entity—its final glance had clearly been directed at him.

Louis was certain, for he had felt a sudden intuition—that gaze had seemed… curious?

He wasn’t sure, but he was certain: Hell was a dungeon containing high-tier and ultra-high-tier dungeons.

His current achievements in this world would make him nothing but an ordinary demon in Hell.

He’d only be fit to stand at the outermost fringe, surrounding that throne-bound demon.

“Once my cultivation base improves, I’ll need to find a way into Hell,” Louis murmured.

He cast the demonic gaze behind him, watching the black mist rise into the sky and gradually fade—but it hadn’t truly vanished; it likely served another purpose.

“Well, first, let’s reap the benefits of this fisherman’s gain.”

Suppressing these strange occurrences deep within, Louis flashed downward.

He looked at the retreating crowd and extended his palm.

Hum!

The black-suited man with the sword, already stuffed into the ambulance, jolted violently—his rusted sword, clutched tightly in his grip, suddenly loosened. The blade seemed sentient; a faint white glow flickered upon it, yet ultimately, obscured by rust across its surface, the light vanished.

It was forcibly torn from his hand.

Whoosh!!

Bang!

The ambulance door was instantly pierced—the rusted sword shot straight into the air, and along with it, the wound on the man’s thigh, just bandaged moments ago, burst open again, spurting blood that flew out through the hole the sword carved.

!!!

“Attack!!”

A shrill scream pierced the air.

Immediately, bullets rained wildly—massive rounds capable of shredding walls and exploding human chests poured out like endless metal barrages.

Even RPGs launched one after another.

This terrifying assault occurred in an instant—testimony to the army’s reaction speed.

And every single attack targeted one point:

Where the sword and blood had halted midair.

Boom-boom-boom!!

Violent explosions sent waves of heat rolling outward.

Smoke billowed, thunderous detonations echoed.

Any carbon-based lifeform on Earth would be utterly obliterated—whether elephant or tiger, all would die!

Even legendary werewolves or vampires would fare no better against such firepower.

This was humanity’s absolute dominance—the power that ruled the food chain!

Yet—

This attack was utterly ineffective.

A crimson shadow flickered—the sword and blood remained untouched.

The Yaoguan Bureau officer’s face darkened.

Another terrifying mystery entity.

What the hell was this mission? Just moments ago, they’d used two forbidden items to eliminate one demon, and before they could breathe, they witnessed Hell opening. They thought no more surprises could come.

Yet another one appeared.

No.

The opponent’s target was clear—he’d likely been lying in wait nearby from the very beginning!

Wait.

Target clear… Damn it!

He had just narrowed his eyes.

The silver box in his hand suddenly felt a tremendous suction force, shooting out of his palm and hovering midair, aligned with the rusted sword and the blood.

“Cannons! Bring me cannons and blast it!”

Damn it, I didn’t bring any missiles—otherwise I’d just missile-strike it directly!

One by one, the cannons that had been prepared but never used were rolled out again, rapidly loaded with shells, even though firing under these conditions was ill-advised—orders were orders, and they couldn’t disobey.

But…

Louis had no interest in hovering midair to test whether his mental force and the Blood River Pearl’s defense could withstand a barrage—such a thing was stupid.

So.

Concealment Art!

The three objects vanished swiftly, though the rusted sword was strange—its concealment was the slowest.

But before the artillery barrage arrived, it completed its invisibility.

Louis vanished with the items in the blink of an eye.

Disappeared like wind and lightning from midair.

Watching the items vanish, Bureau personnel turned pale. “Damn it!”

“Thermal imaging? Radar? Search thoroughly!”

These modern search weapons might help—or might not—but right now, they meant nothing, because Louis had already left.

So.

No matter how hard he searched every inch of the now-bare base, he found nothing of the vanished items.

“It’s over…”

Went out on a high-level mission, mobilized troops, used prohibited items—and in the end, not only did we lose the spoils, but the prohibited items were stolen too.

What is this?

He couldn’t help but recall an Eastern proverb: When the clam and the sandpiper fight, the fisherman wins.

Thinking of what would happen when he returned, his face turned green.

“Thief!!”

Behind him.

Smith trembled.

Maybe, perhaps, likely, possibly, probably—he guessed who that mysterious person was.

But he dared not say it.

I know nothing. I know nothing…

…

In the end, the drama Louis deliberately orchestrated came to a close.

None of the three combatants won—only Louis gained something.

But.

Louis’s actions ultimately left behind a consequence—or rather, a consequence for the mortal world.*

W Corporation suffered heavy losses: one board member died at the base, and a project everyone had pinned their hopes on was declared a failure.

A base costing enormous funds was destroyed; hundreds of elite personnel perished; the project to search for the ritual array and gather human sacrifices was scrapped…

It was a total disaster—losing both the wife and the soldiers.

In the end, only a mad supervisor, a comatose female manager, and Smith and a few other broken remnants remained.

After a series of interrogations.

Unknown what negotiations occurred between W Corporation and the Bureau, Smith and the others returned to the company, and Smith truthfully reported everything that happened at the base.

He was successfully spared, reinstated as a captain—but this failure left his unit understaffed, making him half a commander with no troops; rebuilding his strength would take time.

The mad supervisor vanished outright and soon after became one of the test subjects.

The comatose female manager, however, turned misfortune into fortune and became the new supervisor.

The consequence began with her.

In a branch office of the Water Division, the female supervisor licked her red lips, her sultry eyes rippling like spring water.

Male and female pleasure—ordinary affairs.

But.

Click!

“Aaaaaaah!!”

The female supervisor wore an iron cage over her head; iron teeth clamped together, tearing flesh from the man who had just moments before been making love with her.

Only when the man lost all life did she stop, licking her red lips.

Whether it was an illusion or not.

Her red lips seemed slightly more vivid.

Glug glug—

As her eyeballs rolled, they appeared to split into two; her flesh subtly swelled and writhed.

She seemed fully aware of these changes—but she didn’t care. “The Five Senses Experiment—this mission conveniently gave me some authority to spread the ‘thing.’”

“Hmm, who needs this most? Models and celebrities worried about their beauty, losing their youth—seems like a perfect target.”

On her increasingly gorgeous face, she smiled a breathtaking smile, then slowly rose, her body slender and youthful—impossibly so for her age.

She walked out naked.

And in the vast corporation, everyone pretended not to see.

…

Aside from W Corporation, this incident also affected the Church.

The Church.

The Holy Land Department issued another warning: “Celestial anomalies—according to the Bible, Chapter… it is foretold…”

“This is an omen of apocalypse—the Devil’s Child has descended!”

“The Church must prepare, find all who might be the Devil’s Child, and destroy them!”

At the long office table.

Several cardinals, bishops, and archbishops gathered, discussing furiously.

The Holy Land Department had proven its competence—its predictions and observations were flawless—and now that it issued such a warning, no one dared ignore it.

But the bishops’ real concern lay elsewhere.

“The Church lacks strength. The number of malevolent spirits is rising everywhere, faster and faster. It doesn’t feel fast yet—but compared to past years, it’s terrifying.”

“We have no capacity to search for the Devil’s Child. In fact, we’re already stretched to the limit just dealing with the surge of malevolent spirits.”

“Actually, this is good. When spirits appear, people realize the Lord’s power and become more devout.”

“True. The Lord doesn’t perform miracles anymore, and people are losing reverence. I’ve even seen people planning to make a movie about Him.”

“So what? It’s still promotion.”

“Heh. It’s a Black man playing Him.”

“What?!”

“What the fuck?!”

A stone thrown into a thousand waves—the cardinals were stunned.

Even the Pope, who had sat silently at the head of the table, blinked, his lips twitching.

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

“This is blasphemy! In the past, they’d be burned at the stake!”

“Burn them!”

“….”

As the office grew noisier, the Pope frowned.

“Cough! Cough!”

(End of Chapter)