Chapter 353

Ji Ming had never seen such a situation; scratching his head, he looked like a rookie electrician staring at some bastard's tangled mess of wires, criss‑crossed like flower‑rope, worrying over it.

Moreover, through spiritual communication he sensed that faint divine aura on the assassin; regardless of loyalty or faith, he must be a fervent follower of the Forest God, a valuable asset in any church.

At least, none of the Holy Light followers he has seen so far reach this zeal; probably only players whose very birth relies entirely on themselves can, under the condition of a world‑rule bug, possess such feedback efficiency.

Moreover, his players are as numerous as cow hairs; they can spawn troops at will, fearless of death, with all buffs maxed out. Even kind‑hearted Ji Ming hates to freeload their labor, wanting the system to compensate them with reward or hidden quests so he can feel at ease.

But such a precious, almost non‑renewable resource, the Forest God actually dares to remake it into a living lunatic existing solely for a mission, tossing it into all kinds of deadly tasks—even so crazy as to have it assassinate a princess—as cannon fodder?

……Really, compared to such operations, even the magnificent Shadow Great Evil God, acting as National Teacher and inciting the Wolf King to slaughter countless Wendigos, seems refined and caring toward subordinates, looking like a benevolent ruler.

After all, that violent confession‑type fanatic mastiff‑person, if not discovered by Ji Ming and Ailinnuo, could have retreated safely, merely sneaking to plant an eye and set up a small altar—there was truly no mortal danger.

Meanwhile, while secretly analyzing, Ji Ming never stopped seeking a way to breach the assassin's mental defenses, but this stone lump had no cracks whatsoever on any side, so there was nowhere to prise it open.

In other words, his 'room' has no door, not even an interior space—how could you possibly break in?

But!

While the assassin, unaware of what had happened, was wholeheartedly mocking and disgusting Ji Ming, even straining his tongue to lick his palm, he suddenly heard Ji Ming say something.

"Your spirit is relatively lax, but your madness compensates for that."

Everyone:???

"If we cure the madness through personality repair, your spirit might seem emptier, possibly causing some sluggishness and memory loss."

Ji Ming's holy light on his hand gradually brightened; he steadily increased the force of his spiritual pressure, almost forming a substantive oppression, like a hydraulic press slowly crushing the assassin's sea of consciousness.

"The best course now is to cure your madness while performing a spirit restoration technique on you!"

Having said that, the assassin, who had been about to go full‑tilt and spit out abuse, suddenly shuddered all over, and the buzzing words that had droned on for a long time ceased abruptly.

Because just now, Ji Ming had completely crushed his spirit.

Under the wisdom boost of the evil eye, even the last tiny fragment was picked out and struck down, until only a speck of dust so fine it could not be finer remained in that sea of consciousness.

Having lost all of that, the assassin instantly became an ownerless empty shell; if put up for sale on the necromantic black market, passing necromancers would surely vie to buy him.

Moreover, the local tyrant who willingly produced a big bag of gold coins thrust a thumb up at Ji Ming and praised him.

"Hey, you living person really have a bright future! You can clean a doll's brain this neatly, saving me, Old Man Fa, a lot of trouble. If there's more stock later, look for this card—I, the white‑haired beautiful maiden, will pay double!"

Ji Ming certainly wasn't doing this to become a high‑level human trafficker; he just wanted to test whether his breakthrough theory could actually succeed.

Indeed, even if he had immense ability, he couldn't enter a place that isn't really a room at all.

——What if he dismantled it and rebuilt it from the same materials on the spot?

Ji Ming thought exactly that, and did exactly that: he first extracted the faith that served as the skeleton in the assassin's spirit, obliterating it completely with his divine power, then crushed the remainder into a fine powder that could be freely processed, used magic to sort it—either firing it into bricks or kneading it into mud—and finally rebuilt a small courtyard on the assassin's sea of consciousness.

Exactly, since the Forest God can smash the assassin's originally normal mind into a mess and knead it into a big rock lump, then Ji Ming can smash that rock lump into a mess and knead it into a small courtyard.

Although it can only dispel the blind fanaticism toward the Forest God, and cannot eradicate the deep‑rooted brainwashing already entrenched there, his act is hardly not a form of brainwashing? So it's trump card versus trump card—if my trump card outweighs theirs, my brainwashing taking precedence over theirs is enough.

Of course, as an aficionado of wonders, how could the small courtyard Ji Ming built be ordinary? He directly modeled it after historical military fortifications and constructed a bastion.

Moreover, he used his own divine power to brush on a layer of invisibility paint, so the Forest God would not notice that he had a fanatical follower who had quietly regained his sanity.

Although such violent demolition is especially painful for the assassin, who told him his brain was already a mess? Since he's already at rock bottom, any change is upward, so after the bastion was completed, his emotions actually calmed down again.

Ji Ming then stepped into the house he had created, unlocking and pushing the door open as easily as going to the market to buy vegetables; however, he wasn't some voyeur—earlier, when he cut off the assassin's retreat after suicide, he had also used the Suggestion Technique to make the assassin voluntarily discard it, so after flipping through to the information he wanted, he quickly withdrew from inside.

The three watched Ji Ming crouch on the ground as if wanting to crush the assassin's head, remaining silent for a long time; seeing him finally react, they hurriedly asked.

"How is it? What's the situation?"

"Black!"

Ji Ming produced paper and pen from somewhere, speaking as he wrote.

"Really damn black!"

He admitted that his method of treating the assassin's mind was extremely violent, but violence does not necessarily mean there will be no good therapeutic effect, especially since a person's memory is essentially a line, with strong correlations between its parts; even if smashed into powder, it can be reordered into a normal sequence through the connections before and after.

But the assassin's memory is different; a large amount of important information is wrapped up by faith barriers and brainwashing interference, and there are locks set that cannot be self‑unlocked unless the key words are spoken—let alone that, a considerable portion was directly excised from his mind, leaving not even a trace of backup or fragmentary memory.

Even if Ji Ming had myriad divine abilities, able to play with numerous seals and locks as toys, he cannot create something from nothing to restore what has been deleted; he can only stare anxiously at the conversations before and after the key event, unable in any way to infer what happened in between.

Fortunately, the assassin's trip this time was abroad, so at least this recent portion of his memory is fairly intact; Ji Ming recorded every detail of the assassin's full process of assassinating the princess in his notebook.

Even though Ji Ming had only been at Jueqiao Pass for a few short days, he had at least attended a banquet and made acquaintance with many prominent figures in the city; merely looking at the number of people involved and their positions in this whole process, one can sense that this is a rather terrifying major case.

Even if he used the most concise wording, Ji Ming still wrote a full ten pages before stopping, but he did not hand the notebook to the constantly reaching‑out Hertman; instead, he slipped it into the archbishop's hands.

But Ji Ming also didn't let the outstretched‑hand duke feel embarrassed; he simply gestured "please" and led him to the corner of the secret room.

"Um, God's Chosen, do you have something you want to say to me alone?"

But Ji Ming didn't speak; instead, he took a deep breath with a face full of worry, then slowly exhaled.

This completely frightened Hertman, who thought, "What did he learn from that assassin's brain? What's with this expression, as if preparing to attend a funeral?"

"Please don't keep us in suspense any longer—just say what's on your mind, I can handle it!"

"Stay calm, I'm just thinking of a more tactful phrasing… All right, I have some good news and some bad news; which would you like to hear first?"

The worry shifted onto the duke's face, but within a few seconds it became resolute again.

"Bad news! Let me see just how bad it can get!"

Ji Ming immediately praised.

"Very good, truly worthy of a duke—you have the guts! Then I'll tell you!"

"Listen, your favorite child, the Third Young Master Kero of the Jueqiao family, is colluding with foreign enemies, has ties with multiple Deep Forest spies, has been selling off family interests behind the scenes, and is involved in this assassination plot against the princess."

"Ugh!"

Possibly it's Ji Ming's psychological effect, or maybe it really is so—Hertman's complexion instantly turned ashen, like bringing his wife out of the city, eating hot pot while singing, then suddenly pulling a cockroach out of the pot—a southern, half‑female, and moreover missing a drum skin.

So his body swayed a bit, his trembling lips looked toward Ji Ming, with a hint of pleading in his eyes, but the doubt in his mouth hadn't even been voiced before his reason snatched it back.

Is it really true?

This is certainly true!

I have no conflict of interest with the God's Chosen, and we've just achieved a fairly perfect cooperation—what point would there be for him to idle and stab me in the back?

Also precisely for this reason, he felt his mood growing heavier and heavier; not knowing when, he had already leaned against the wall and sat on that old tiger stool meant for punishment, though one could also sit on it for a moment.

He sighed long and short, remained silent for a long while, and Hetman lifted his head with vacant eyes.

And the good news?

Ji Ming took another breath, his words ringing.

Good news! Because of this bad news, the fact that the Third Young Master is out there serving as a spirit is no longer a big deal!

Your friend 【Duke Hetman of Jueqiao】 has gone offline.

Ah, my condolences, Duke, Jueqiao Pass and your family still need you; you cannot collapse!

Abababababa...

He gave a light cough, Ji Ming moved away from Hetman, who had turned into a repeat-player statue, and was about to check another list he had obtained from the assassin's mind when he suddenly heard Ailinuo calling him.

Just moments ago, the Archbishop was watching the entire assassination plan unfold, while Ji Ming was whispering to the duke.

Idle, she looked at the assassin still lying on the ground, suddenly recalling that she had a family-passed dispelling magic that might be able to break the concealing aura he carried.

Anyway, the assassin had been tortured to the point of having not a scrap of good flesh left and no joint capable of exerting force, so she stepped closer and threw the dispelling magic onto him.

The thick mist on the assassin indeed gradually dissipated as the magic took effect, but when she focused her gaze, she discovered.

Ji Ming, come over quickly!

Ji Ming was quickly taking notes with pen and paper, so busy he didn't even lift his head.

What's wrong?

He... she seems to be a woman!

Ji Ming burst out laughing.

What can a woman do? Even if he were an armed helicopter! As long as he doesn't walk the righteous path and still dares to ruin my plans, I'll break his rotors!

Ailinuo didn't know what an armed helicopter was, so she could only poke the assassin's limp body with the tip of her staff.

Then... she also seems to have nothing covering her?

However, Ji Ming had no interest in that either.

That shows the Jungle Church is so poor they can't even afford a pair of pants; the advantage is mine.

Perhaps feeling his answer was a bit evasive, he added another sentence.

Fine, if you really feel sorry for her, just cover her with an old shirt you don't want to wash; anyway, she still has some use value, so we can't kill her for now.

These words left Ailinuo somewhat puzzled; even if she were perfectly virtuous and chaste, now that she herself had called him over… coming to take a look wouldn't be entirely normal, would it? Why would…

Could it be!

No, no, no, impossible, impossible! This is absolutely impossible!

At least if it were true, that would be too unfortunate! This is absolutely a loss! That… that monster horseman, upon learning it, would surely have to come personally slaughter to Huiguang?

Ailinuo was lost in thought, meanwhile constantly using her staff to turn the assassin's body, when she suddenly realized that the spot she had thought was close-fitting armor was not armor, but…

She hummed thoughtfully, racking her brains to figure out what this was, and absentmindedly recalled the little snack placed on the fruit platter during afternoon tea, muttering.

Eh? How does it look like she's grown a layer of nutshell?

Whoosh!

What? What? What nutshell?

Suddenly appearing beside them, Ji Ming startled Ailinuo, almost striking the assassin's only 'intact' head with his staff.

This is it, look, a layer resembling plant hard skin covers all her vulnerable spots… thing…

Mid-sentence, Ailinuo hesitated, because he saw Ji Ming already pull out a magnifying glass, lying on the assassin to examine closely.

Good heavens, it's exquisite! Look at those annual ring patterns, look at the tree trace direction, wow, it's practically a dream come true!

Ailinuo was frightened stiff by this scene, trembling as she pulled a dress from her storage ring, thinking she should perhaps cover Ji Ming—this is simply too…