Chapter 382: The Story Behind It Warms the Heart

"Close your mouth and roll out of my sight…"

Leslie habitually refused to communicate, but after hearing the old man's words he was stunned.

"You… you are investigating me?"

He then roared even more angrily, so much that the chains on his shackles clanged loudly.

"Damn it, how did you find out! I'm telling you, they have nothing to do with me!"

Facing the scene, Lao Li's face showed no sign of a failed sales pitch or panic at a resistant target; instead, a hint of strategic calculation flickered in his eyes.

After all, before this, Leslie, who championed nonviolent noncooperation, had hardly spoken at all.

And the so‑called persuasion is merely using rhetoric to make the other party feel your proposal is more profitable than what they cling to; so what is Leslie's steadfastness?

As the saying goes, rope cuts at the weakest point, and misfortune seeks the suffering.

If he were truly some noble lord, even if he colluded in disgrace, he would ally with the powerful dark gods of the Shadow Church, not consider the feeble, almost insignificant Cold Iron.

So to have risen to the upper echelons of such a church, Leslie, regardless of his current abilities, was merely a child from a poor family in the past.

His origin is simple: a classic tale of being struck by the twin blades of natural‑disaster‑induced famine and aristocratic exploitation, then falling onto a bandit guillotine.

Such matters are unremarkable and occur frequently on this land.

Yet seeing the fields strewn with dying birds, and nearly being seized by wandering refugees for a pot, the so‑called Cold Iron God was, at least to him then, truly a savior.

Thus he became a devout follower, and his ascent within the church began with learning magic.

Eventually, thanks to his outstanding frost‑magic talent and hard‑won leadership charisma, he rose to the position of Cardinal.

So Lao Li, already having a plan in mind, did not discuss right or wrong nor criticize the dark god, but instead recounted his own childhood.

"Actually, when I was a child I also lived in a small mountain village…"

From the neighboring village's elementary school to the town's middle school, then, guided by a mentor, he secured a place in the county's high school, and through excellent exam scores entered the distant coastal university; Lao Li was clearly a small‑town prodigy who combined talent and hard work.

After earning a master's, he entered the workforce, but outraged by incompetent leadership, he resolved to pursue a doctorate, switched fields under his advisor's favor, attained great enlightenment, and rose step by step to his current position.

His narrative pace is actually calm and steady; compared with his impoverished background, it even reads like a feel‑good story, yet he always slips a knife out at the most lyrical moment.

For example, the drought in his childhood that caused his cousin to starve to death, and the massive earthquake in high school that nearly claimed his life.

Also, the shame of secretly hoarding and devouring a customer's leftovers during a university job, only to be mocked, and the fury of being sabotaged by a nepotistic supervisor, almost dying between the stalls.

Leslie's expression shifted between gloom and brightness, yet he remained silent.

It wasn't until he heard the other say they had just been promoted to deputy bureau chief, describing how they fought floods with soldiers and overcame natural disasters, that he finally lost patience.

"You're lying!"

Lao Li rolled up his sleeve, revealing an extremely ugly scar beneath his shirt.

"It was from saving a little girl; a few days ago I just ate the celebratory banquet for her child's school entrance."

Leslie didn't understand the old man's bizarre wording and simply shook his head.

"Impossible! What you're saying is beyond any mortal's capability! You're lying!"

Lao Li still didn't argue, but rested against the back of the chair and said calmly.

"Perhaps, but in the world I come from, there are no gods at all."

The other seemed not to hear, head lowered, repeatedly reciting as if hypnotizing himself.

"Lying… you lie… without gods, how could mortals possibly achieve this…"

"You can tell a lie at a glance!"

Seeing him wavering, Lao Li seized the chance to serve the main course, pulling out pre‑prepared data and beginning a point‑by‑point counter.

"Whether it's the world's malice, each other's malice, or our own, the obstacles we've overcome are countless!"

"!!!"

Leslie's eyes were instantly dazzled by the flood of achievements spanning ages and foreign realms like a raging river.

Even without gods or magic, they still reached the heavens, the depths, the seas, and even prepared to land on the moon again, turning it into humanity's territory.

"Is this… really… true…?"

As the heir and bearer of all this, Lao Li inhaled lightly, about to state definitively, but saw Leslie's expression change.

"Liar!"

He struggled as if waking from a dream, his face more twisted than before, his fingers slashing a layer of light like a knife.

"This! It's absolutely fake! Damn it, you Pioneers are a bunch of liars!"

Lao Li wondered whether he had seen the meat‑filling plan or the Planetary War plan, and why he was so agitated.

Leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his face sank.

"This… is real."

"Impossible!"

Leslie shouted in denial.

"Do you know what twenty percent of the world's population is? Two hundred million! Even the entire Hui Guang Kingdom might not have that many!"

"You tell me you've managed to feed that many people, and I say even the Forest God, using divine power to accelerate production, couldn't generate that much food!"

Seeing his greatest achievement so bluntly denied, Lao Li had intended to get angry, but after hearing Leslie's flushed, thick‑necked argument, he couldn't help but laugh.

"1.4 billion."

"What?"

"In our world, thanks to technology, productivity is higher, so the global population is eighty billion."

"…pfft."

Now the two who were about to argue both laughed, as if hearing a joke, chuckling together for a long while, prompting the security guards outside to ask what was happening.

"Just a lively chat, don't worry."

Lao Li, while still smiling, also had his subordinates send over some evidence.

"Look for yourself, they're all our people, our technology; I have no need to deceive you."

The thing in the picture needs no further explanation; it was what Lai Si Li once, and still now, most yearned for.

"This yield, this area, this… this is in…"

Lao Li nodded.

"Right, right in the deep mountains of the barbarian plains south of the kingdom, we have already begun the staple‑grain breeding program in your world."

"My god…"

Now Lai Si Li was completely speechless, and Lao Li's silky combo had reached its final move.

"Lai Si Li, I tell you all this, prove all this, the reason is simple: I know you're not a good person, but at least among your kind you still count as a 'human.'"

"You've actually been secretly helping villages, occasionally paying out of your own pocket for grain relief, but can those really soothe the guilt of the innocents you poisoned for the evil god? Can they really stop the things you despise from happening again?"

Lai Si Li trembled a bit and could only admit it.

"No… can't…"

"But we can!"

Lao Li pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from his chest and pushed them over.

"Come on, friend, tell me where the other altars are, let the disappearance of the Cold Iron Church become the start of your new life."

Ten minutes later, Lao Li walked out of the interrogation room and handed a sheet of paper to LaoZhao.

"Follow this to investigate; even if we can't root it out completely, the foundation of Cold Iron should be almost dismantled."

"Hmm…"

LaoZhao scanned the list, glanced at the slumped Lai Si Li whose brain was already overloaded, and suddenly recalled someone.

"Uh, if it weren't for one being surnamed Li and the other Ji, he'd think they were some illegitimate kids; otherwise, why would they be so proficient?"

Based on the addresses on the list, the field‑operations department quickly drafted a battle plan and began conscripting every reachable operative.

They intend to dispatch several units to simultaneously assault the locations on the list; even if they can't wipe out the Cold Iron Church in one stroke, they will completely uproot its foundation.

Coincidentally, the operation begins tonight; the field troops are very effective, the big ones linking with the small, clearing every Cold Iron Church stronghold spotless.

And truly one could say the heavens intend to doom Cold Iron; the sixth secret base, which could have been a last hope even the red‑robed cardinal didn't know, was simultaneously assaulted by Cang Lang and Cloi.

Thus the Cold Iron Deity crouched in the temple, watching the church territory it had painstakingly built fade out like candles on a birthday cake.

It could instantly, because of faith's backlash, lie down as a god, spread a blanket, and the whole village's young and old would wait for the dishes; how could it not be red‑warm?

Coincidentally, that young believer was simultaneously swearing a cursed oath and begging the divine lord, hoping to trade everything for a chance at survival.

Just in time, the evil sacrifice from its own believer gave Cold Iron a chance to strike.

—You kill me, then I will kill Ning!

Thus it forcibly triggered a divine descent, using a mortal's body as a vessel, completing an ultra‑long‑range teleport.

What, they offered themselves not to survive, why did they still get killed?

There's nothing to do; I only emitted a little cold, and he's just so intolerant of frost.

In short, to seek a sliver of hope and protect these last few believers, the Cold Iron that has already wagered itself at the gambling table cannot help but go mad.

It, already a sentient frozen corpse, controls this body; under the whipping cold wind it moves as swift as flight toward the direction the two fled.

"Sss—"

Although he usually resides in the northwest, Cang Lang once came to Guangfu on official business in winter, thus experiencing that extremely damp winter.

Now feeling the cold, forest‑like air blowing from behind, piercing straight into his bones, he sensed that what was closing in from behind was no longer a frozen corpse but the giant flying cockroach that once perched on the wall when he went to the bathroom at night!

And even if he ran faster, how could he outrun something that flies? Cang Lang, seizing a bend, glanced back and saw the gap shrinking rapidly; before he could catch those bastards, he would surely be caught first.

After a brief thought, he raised his voice.

"Werewolf, do you have the ability to run faster?"

"Yes, while crawling."

Cloi felt embarrassed to speak, and instead blurted out.

"It can be, what's the matter?"

Cang Lang gestured toward his back.

"If this continues, both of us will be caught; you're a local, death makes resurrection hard, so later you run at full speed, and I'll cover you from behind."

!?

Cloi could hardly believe her own ears.

"Really… really?"

Cang Lang nodded seriously.

"It's true, if you have the ability… just run fast."

"I…"

Cloi was instantly moved to the point of tears; after her hometown was razed by war and she was forced to flee, this was her first time receiving such a deep, pure kindness.

QWQ

Even though you look as ugly as the hairless monkeys, your kindness shines brilliantly!

She calmed herself, feeling she couldn't waste his kindness, and, mimicking the players, threw a fist.

"Thank you, sir, I'll go ahead now; I hope you can escape safely!"

"Hmm… go ahead…"

Cang Lang's expression was steady as he nodded firmly.

Then, watching her sprint away, he wished he could dig up the entire werewolf's family, even his ancestors' eighteen generations, from the grave buns!

No more.

"Not a buddy, you can ride a horse and turn into a giant wolf?"

Come on, man, you fucking are a horse girl, how can you still run this fast?

Come on, man, you fucking haven't even finished your pleasantries, and you just fucking vanished?

Cang Lang instantly felt like he'd been tricked, but who asked him to bring it up himself? He could only figure that, well, this person is from Wai Shu, so later he'll settle accounts with that kid...

Wait a moment.

Right, where's the Wai Shu person?

Now Cang Lang's defenses are completely broken. We said we'd cooperate inside and out to exterminate these damned heretic cultists and insectoid nobles, but all I see is me busy while nobody else shows up?

But he didn't have time to ask after Ji Ming's parents' health, because the cold wind had already crept up his limbs; in an instant the piercing cold felt like needles, as if even his blood vessels were frozen.

Even if Cang Lang again mobilized his whole body's qi and blood, guiding the utmost righteous qi to form a shield, this feeling of bearing a thousand kilograms still hadn't faded.

—because this is a curse from the gods.

"Ah..."

Since escape is impossible, and facing death head-on isn't Cang Lang's style, he simply stopped his steps; even if he dies today, he'll tear a piece of meat from that dangling-haired wild god before breathing his last.

But a hero's sacrifice—even if it's just one day after the public test—must come with a deafening last word!

So Cang Lang raised his right fist, faced the frozen corpse, let golden light bathe his whole body, took a deep breath, and bellowed.

"Ji Ming, fuck your immortal!"

"Hehe..."

Accompanied by a strange clacking of teeth, the cold iron hovering in the air kicked up a howling cold storm, preparing to blow this self‑proclaimed brave guy into an ice sculpture alive.

However, just then, Cang Lang, who had already brought his momentum to its peak, suddenly lost strength, looked behind the frozen corpse, and let out a sound.

"Holy shit, you dog."

"You!"

His all‑out strike, which could be called a deathblow, stopped at the last moment, causing the Cold Iron God to be full of anger; the killing blow that could have dealt maximum damage was completely wasted.

It made Him so frustrated He almost spat out a mouthful of old blood, and then to be insulted to His face by a mortal made Him ready to curse, when He felt something behind Him...

How is this somewhat heart‑warming?