Chapter 348: Spreading the Gospel

At the edge of the city, a corner erased from official maps.

This is the Underground Black Market, a lawless place filled with neon‑lit corpses and rotting desires.

The air mingles cheap alcohol, iron rust, and the sweet, metallic scent of fresh blood, and every corner stages the most primal law of the jungle.

Ahhh—!

A harrowing scream cuts through the clamor.

The Earth Emperor of the Black Market, the burly man nicknamed Du Yan, grins wickedly as he slowly presses a red‑hot iron rod against a debtor's chest.

Sizzle—

The foul stench of charred flesh spreads.

Around him, Du Yan's henchmen snicker sickly, reveling in the thrill of controlling another's life and adorning their numb existence with others' pain.

Du Yan is very pleased with the atmosphere.

He spits a thick, blood‑stained phlegm, stomps the trembling fingers of the man on the ground, and roars in a coarse voice:

"Damn it, playing dead on me? Where's the money! The promised money!"

The man, in pain beyond speech, can only emit a wheezing gasp.

At that moment.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

A crisp, rhythmic series of knocks suddenly comes from the alley entrance.

The sound is not loud, yet like a precise scalpel it instantly slices the noisy chaos, reaching each ear clearly.

The noisy Black Market weirdly falls silent.

Everyone simultaneously looks toward the alley entrance.

A figure dressed in an immaculate black suit walks slowly into view.

His polished shoes are spotless, clashing with the filthy, damp ground; he leans on an Odd Staff whose tip is set with an eyeball, and each step syncs perfectly with the staff's tap on the floor.

He resembles a noble who has strayed into a filthy Sewer, his elegance unreal.

Even stranger, his face bears a Gray Stone Mask with no features.

"Where's the little pretty face, playing cosplay all the way onto my turf?"

Du Yan squints his sole remaining eye, feeling a sense of offended authority, and mutters irritably:

He despises such pretentious types the most.

"Kill him for me! He's an eyesore!"

At Du Yan's command, several of his most loyal henchmen immediately draw Homemade Pistols from their coats and, without hesitation, aim at the slowly approaching figure.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The deafening gunshots explode through the narrow alley.

Flames burst forth.

However, the next scene causes everyone's mind to crash.

The whizzing bullets, upon reaching half a meter from the Masked Man, all simultaneously hover in mid‑air.

As if they struck an invisible wall.

Time twists at that instant.

The Masked Man maintains his elegant stride, without the slightest pause.

He simply lifts his left hand wearing White Gloves and snaps his fingers lightly.

Snap.

All the suspended projectiles instantly turn into fine dust, drifting down in a rustle.

The Thugs who fired still wear fierce expressions, yet their pupils reflect sheer terror.

They try to scream, but find no sound can emerge from their throats.

Their bodies are "melting" at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Skin, muscle, bone… all the tissues that make up a human body dissolve like wax statues doused in strong acid, turning into puddles of hot, viscous blood water mixed with shredded clothing, spreading silently across the ground.

No screams.

No struggle.

Only death‑like silence.

The person who was alive just seconds ago is now reduced to a few dirty puddles.

The entire Black Market falls into unprecedented stillness.

A needle drop could be heard.

The henchmen who were cackling moments ago now have sallow faces, their legs trembling like sifted chaff, and a foul odor wafts from their crotches.

Du Yan's lone eye is filled with horror and disbelief.

Having roamed the jianghu for years, killing and seeing ghosts, he has never witnessed such a weird, terrifying method of killing!

This is not human power at all!

Tap.

The Masked Man finally reaches him, stopping his steps.

He ignores the collapsed Du Yan on the ground, as well as the terrified henchmen around him.

He opens his right hand wearing White Gloves, palm up.

A mass emitting a crimson glimmer hovers and rotates slowly in his palm.

It was a seed.

A seed that seemed to have been watered with blood and curses, a Weird Seed.

"Look, how feeble humanity is."

Sai Men opened his mouth.

His voice sounded as if it came from an ancient opera, carrying a dramatic aria—splendid, elegant, yet tinged with a chilling madness.

"You are in fear, trembling, begging for your humble lives."

"What a pitiful creature."

He turned his staff, and the Living Eyeball on it swivelled deftly, scanning every person present.

Anyone the eyeball fixed upon felt a needle‑like sting deep in their soul.

"But you are also fortunate."

Sai Men, in a beguiling tone, continued preaching his Gospel.

"Because the deity... heard your prayers."

"He has bestowed upon you the key to evolution."

"Cast off this weak, filthy husk full of pain and fear. Embrace it, and you will attain rebirth. No more pain, no more fear—only pure power and eternal joy."

His voice carried a strange magic, as if it could pierce straight into a person's brain and imprint that mad doctrine directly.

Du Yan collapsed on the ground, gulping breath after breath.

He did not understand what evolution was, nor what Gospel meant.

He only knew that if he did not act soon, the next second he would become one of the puddles of blood on the ground.

The instinct to survive overwhelmed everything.

He struggled, mustering all his strength, and knelt toward Sai Men, pounding the ground madly.

"Sir! Spare me! Spare me, sir!"

Sai Men looked at the dog‑like, humbled Du Yan at his feet, and the corner of his mouth beneath the Mask curved into a pleasant arc.

"Very good."

"As the first believer to embrace the Gospel, you shall receive the deity's blessing."

He snapped his fingers.

The crimson "Weird Seed" traced a bizarre arc and landed precisely in Du Yan's gaping mouth.

Du Yan had no time to react; the seed slid down his throat.

"Uhh... Aaaah!"

The next second, a gut‑wrenching scream burst from Du Yan's throat!

His body seemed infused with magma; his skin turned a vivid red, and strands of bluish‑black veins rose like writhing earthworms.

The sound of bones shattering and recombining echoed continuously from within him.

His body swelled and contorted in an extremely twisted posture.

Finally, he became a figure over two meters tall, muscles knotted, skin a hardened gray‑white keratin, and his single eye turned into a beastly, crimson vertical pupil.

He could no longer feel pain.

Nor could he feel fear.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

Obedience.

Kneel and worship.

The man before him is a god!

The transformed Du Yan, fanatically kneeling at Sai Men's feet, repeatedly slammed his skull into the ground, producing a muffled thud.

The remaining Thugs and the few survivors, watching this scene, completely broke down.

Between death and becoming monsters, they had no other choice.

"I... I also consent!"

"Sir! Please grant me rebirth!"

Sai Men looked satisfied at the lambs kneeling across the ground, gently turning the Brass Pocket Watch in his hand.

He bestowed one Weird Seed after another upon these "believers" who voluntarily abandoned their humanity.

For a moment, wails rose and fell in the Black Market, eventually all subsiding into fervent kneeling.

"Go."

Sai Men lightly tapped Du Yan's skull with his staff, his voice full of mockery and anticipation.

"My children."

"Send the deity's Gospel... to those lost lambs still struggling within the false order."