The Third Qualification for Godhood!

After the gunshot, the world fell instantly silent. An accident that should never have happened had occurred after all. Just like that spar in the desert: Karen had held the absolute advantage, and Neo could only passively take a beating the entire time, yet in the very end, he had mounted a "counterattack" against Karen. Whenever Neo brought it up afterward, he would claim Karen had deliberately saved face for him, not wanting to leave him embarrassed. This time was virtually a replay. For anyone else, managing early on to conceal themselves from the Whip of Order and slip into Rotini's circle as a "brain-trust aide" would have been extraordinarily difficult. But Neo was a veteran of the Whip of Order—the very person from whom Karen had learned his operational craft back in the day. Even taking a step back, if the person who pulled the gun at the end had been anyone other than Neo, Kevin wouldn't have hesitated for an instant; one swat of his dog paw would have smashed even the hardest skull to mush. Only Neo could have fired that bullet at that specific time and in that specific place. What he took advantage of was the bond between himself and Karen. Of course, "took advantage of" was an unpleasant phrase. Between friends, there was supposed to be give and take. As someone who had lost the love of his life and spent his days seeking death, chasing thrills, and looking for fun, when had he ever needed Karen to do anything for him? Most of the time, it was Karen who needed him. This time was just a bit special, because he knew Karen would never agree. Sometimes Neo was quite baffled himself: how had a captain like him—one who lined his pockets, robbed other criminals, and occasionally dabbled in power-and-money deals—failed to guide Karen onto the "right path"? This young man whom he had personally brought into the Whip of Order had, under the long influence of his exemplary leadership, somehow grown more and more principled. One reason he had left Karen was that he felt being around Karen was getting less and less fun. Another reason was that, on top of being no fun, his own sense of presence was fading more and more. So this time, why not go big? A scroll slid from Neo's waist. It unfurled on its own, freezing the scene within the convertible and disrupting both outside sightlines and the cameras' view. Then, he reached out and hauled up the fallen Rotini. Rotini was already dead. The bullet hole between his brows looked rather comical—well-suited to being cropped into a poster to hang at home for stress relief whenever one was in a foul mood. Neo lowered his head. Fangs emerged from his mouth, sinking into the neck of Rotini's corpse. Mm, the blood was still warm. Neo's bloodline as a bloodthirsty aberrant demon had reached a very high tier. Long past chasing the cheap thrill of plain blood, it had shifted toward plundering souls and spiritual power. Furthermore, compared to other aberrant demons of the same rank, Neo possessed an additional ability: personality absorption! He didn't care for Rotini, but right now he needed Rotini's personality to act as a vessel. The scale of the God-Creation Project was grand, and the time and resources invested in it were immense. The subjects under observation alone numbered in the tens of thousands. In the end, after layer upon layer of screening, only two viable "materials" remained, and both happened to be in Yorktown. The relevant factions within the Church of Order could not openly intervene; they could only provide silent, subtle guidance. Consequently, even though Karen had dismantled the project team with thunderous speed, the groundwork laid beforehand was still intact, and it would still take effect. *Thump!* Rotini's corpse was dropped by Neo. Neo blinked, and the world in his eyes seemed stripped of all emotion, leaving only cold shades of gray and white. Layer upon layer of invisible halos, unseen to the naked eye, began converging toward him. He raised his head, gazing at the dog and the man atop the distant rooftop. Neo shrugged, as if saying: *See? I told you that if I let you know, you'd definitely stop me this time.* After the gunshot, Karen had opened his eyes and walked to the edge of the roof, spotting Neo. Karen hadn't anticipated the situation before him, yet in this moment, he felt little shock. In the end, this was the result of his own indulgence. Alfred had long proposed tracking Neo's whereabouts, but Karen had turned it down. Two days ago, in Karen's car, Neo had all but stated that Karen wouldn't agree with what he was about to do, yet Karen still hadn't dispatched anyone to investigate. Kevin silently pulled in his dog head, hoping to have zero presence right now. This scene felt so much like the relationship between the God of Order and the God of Light back in antiquity. In the mythological narratives of various religions, records recounted the God of Order's dissatisfaction with chief gods such as Samsara and Life, believing their actions violated the orderly world she wished to build. To that end, the God of Order had even gone out of her way to voice accusations before the God of Light. Yet back then, could the God of Order truly not have known that Light was the actual protector of those deities? Yet from start to finish, the God of Order never directed her spearhead straight at the God of Light. Only after the God of Light was gone did the God of Order formally split off the former Light camp and wage open war against the gods of the old Light lineage. The relationship between these two overlord gods, Order and Light, was simply too complicated. Neo rolled his neck, his figure dissolving into a flock of white doves that flew outward. After flying some distance, the doves instantly morphed into black bats, speeding up even further. Buken, who was wearing a mask and had been brought out by Alfred to stretch his legs, spoke up at this moment: "Mr. Alfred, let me go take him down." If the former Whip-Wielder intervened, the probability of success was naturally very high. His final battle against Fuden had indeed ended in defeat, but by then Buken had already entered his period of decline while Fuden was still in his prime, wielding a divine artifact to boot. Alfred glanced at Buken and said, "First, I only brought you out to get some fresh air. You should know your identity is delicate and could easily draw the Whip-Wielder's notice, so be mindful and don't always itch to take action yourself. "Second, why don't you look at those younger than you? Why haven't they asked to apprehend the target? "Especially that impulsive bald guy—look how quiet he is right now." Daliwenluo, named on the spot, was currently trimming the twigs and leaves off a wooden stick. The moment Neo appeared, he had transformed directly into a horticultural artist. Apprehend Neo? Was he crazy? Alfred rubbed his fingers. The young master up above hadn't issued any concrete orders. Well, the young master had entrusted this matter entirely to him, so there was naturally no need to hand down commands at this stage. Still, Neo running off like this couldn't be left ignored, because he was about to become the beacon for the convergence of divine power. Right now, he was a terrifying source of contamination in the making. "Notify the perimeter scouting teams: keep a close watch first, then wait for an opportunity to... contain him." ... A swarm of black bats was about to fly past the coastline of Yorktown, with the boundless sea stretching out ahead. Just then, a black hole appeared above, and from within it, a gigantic hand was about to reach out. This was the hand of Pruessen of the Yorktown Region. However, the hand did not fully emerge; after a momentary hesitation, it pulled back. Because behind them, a man leading a dog flew over atop a bone dragon. There was no deliberate notice, but sometimes, the absence of notice was a message in itself: *Nothing here concerns you.* As the black bats flew, they didn't forget to let out arrogant screeches, as if venting the past oppression of being dominated by that giant hand. Scouting team after scouting team was shaken off by Neo. Their experience and abilities still couldn't compare to this old hunting dog. Yet Neo was intercepted after all. Philomena stood on the surface of the water, quietly watching the swarm of bats fly toward her. The bats gathered, and Neo's figure materialized. Looking at Philomena, he smiled. "Your progress is really fast—exaggerated, even." Philomena shook her head. "I couldn't catch up to you. It's her." Purr poked her head out from behind Philomena's neck, clawing the air at Neo as she said: "Well, well, long time no see, thrill-seeker." Purr had originally wanted to relive the glory days of the scouting team through Philomena today, only to run into this business with Neo. Still, as someone who shared a bed with Karen after all, Purr knew very well his special attitude toward Neo. She hadn't gone out of her way to coordinate deployments; otherwise, Neo would have already been encircled by multiple scouting teams. It wasn't a matter of whether they could stop him, but whether Neo was actually willing to kill the Order priests under Karen's command. Neo pointed at Purr and said, "You've turned gray." "Heh heh, meow." Purr flicked her tail. "That's because something's wrong with your eyes." "Strictly speaking, it's that something is temporarily wrong with my relationship to this world." "Karen is right behind. Wait for him to catch up." "If he wanted to catch up, he could have done so long ago. He knows I wouldn't wait for him." "There is no opportunity for godhood left in this world. What you're doing is doomed to fail. So if you don't want to turn into a pool of sticky, contaminated sludge, stop now. You might still have a slim chance." "I quite like this unique way to die." "You really give a cat a headache, meow." Neo's figure flickered, turning into a plume of black mist to leave again. Purr leaped down from Philomena's shoulder and said, "Stop him." Philomena moved. Gripping the Dream Demon Blade, she slashed toward Neo's path. The strike was fierce and heavy, carving a trench in front of Neo that the sea water was slow to fill. "You're putting me in a difficult spot," Neo said. Purr called out from the distance, "You're the one putting us in a difficult spot!" "Fair enough." Neo stretched, his fingernails lengthening into claws as he charged straight at Philomena. *Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!* Both of their fighting styles leaned toward agility and technique, yet this time, they clashed like two warriors, swinging with broad, sweeping ferocity. Surge after surge of massive waves was tossed up, spelling doom for countless fish swimming nearby. Purr picked two large ones and placed them in front of herself, intending to take them back for Karen to cook for her. As the fight dragged on, however, Philomena began to struggle. The aura around Neo grew increasingly abnormal, and the resulting contamination effects gradually showed themselves. Yet the stubborn girl of the Felsher family never knew how to stop; the one who held back first was Neo instead. *Slash!* Philomena's blade sliced across Neo's chest. Neo didn't retaliate; instead, he covered the wound with a hand to keep his blood from spraying toward her, rapidly pulling back. Philomena moved to pursue, but Purr shouted, "Stop! You've already lost." Philomena halted and sheathed her blade. Neo tossed his hair and looked down at the wound on his chest. Blood hadn't spilled out, but from within it reached a pale hand, palm turned upward in an offering posture. A raspy murmur issued from Neo's chest, and above the palm appeared a blazing torch. "Freedom!" The torch's flame was black. If one looked closely, it wasn't flame at all, but a mass of cockroaches, scorpions, and other vermin crawling with strange runes. Philomena said, "It doesn't seem like what I imagined. I thought freedom was pure." "There are many kinds of freedom. It depends on which kind you understand." "So in the previous era, would something like this be considered the embryo of an evil god?" "Whether it's an evil god depends on which chief god it followed, meow." Neo lowered his head and laughed, shouting: "Damn it! How could it be such a disgusting thing?" Purr added, "Don't rush; this isn't even peak disgusting yet. Once the divine contamination condenses to its absolute summit, it'll get vastly more disgusting in an instant." Just like when Mr. Luther achieved godhood back then: a success so fleeting it barely existed, only to swiftly turn into a viscous congregation of hunger-addiction contamination. Neo tried reaching out to grab the hand emerging from his chest, and immediately threw his head back, his eyes rolling up: "Ooooh-aaah!" He let go. Blue veins bulged across his skin, and his mask slipped off, exposing his face of mangled flesh. "Ah, this kick—cigarettes from the Church of Thunder can't compare at all, and psychoactive drugs can't hold a candle to it! Hahaha!" *Buzz!* The torch expanded. Beneath the sea's surface, a gigantic gray starburst appeared, followed by a massive dharma idol beginning to spontaneously condense. Soon, Rotini's figure appeared over the ocean. He held the torch aloft, a hollow void where the center of his forehead should be. His whole body... no, the entire divine statue radiated an utterly eerie, twisted aura. Neo remarked, "Heh, a defective product." Even defective products had grades. Mr. Luther last time had also been a failure, but his completion rate was very high; had it been in the previous era, he might genuinely have given birth to a minor god. Yet the divine image forged from Rotini's death felt unreal even before its decay had begun. The silhouette of the bone dragon appeared, its claws weaving in irregular motions. Yes, it was forming hand seals—a dragon, forming seals in draconian form. This meant the backlash of the spell would be drastically reduced for her, as her body could withstand pressures far beyond what mortals could bear. Philomena was seeing this for the first time as well, her expression tinged with surprise. Purr said proudly, "This is the power of knowledge! Our Kanna is an absolutely brilliant child!" *Boom! Boom! Boom!* Divine Artifact—Shield of the Guardian! Towering, majestic shields crashed down one after another, sealing off this section of sea to prevent any imminent leak of contamination. In the past, a spell of this scale would have required at least a team of spellcasters working together to shoulder the strain, but Little Kanna achieved it all by herself. Having done all this, Little Kanna looked at her dragon claws in some astonishment: *Whoa, am I really this awesome?* Kevin dotedly patted the dragon bone beneath him with his paw. The body was the capital for everything. Bone dragons were renowned for their formidable physiques. Her all-around development and studies meant that even without specializing in every field, as long as she learned them and grasped the fundamentals, those abilities would receive an enormous boost as her physique matured. Karen leaped down from the bone dragon and walked across the surface of the sea, step by step toward Neo. As the distance closed, swarm after swarm of hunger-addiction crawlers emerged around Karen. Even the sea beneath his feet was now composed of densely crawling cockroaches. They attempted to clamber onto Karen and assimilate him. Karen ignored them and kept walking. And upon touching Karen, the insects began perishing—not one by one, but in vast sheets, reducing to flying ash. Karen reached Neo. Neo's clothes were already ripped to shreds. He spread his hands: "My cigarettes dropped into the sea. Want to touch this hand? It's got quite a kick." It felt like someone finding a new toy, showing it off to a friend while offering to share. Karen reached out and lightly brushed the torch. In an instant, the Fire of Order flared in Karen's eyes, and the hunger addiction deep in his soul roared. Alongside it, the colossal divine statue that had just coalesced took on a conflicted expression, its posture hunching over as if on the verge of collapse. Before it could collapse, however, Karen withdrew his hand and appraised, "Nothing special." "You know, Karen, the way you talk sometimes really makes people want to punch you." "I know. I usually only talk like this to you." "Should I say thank you?" "Up to you." Karen looked up at the phantom statue, hunched and unable to recover because of him, and continued, "You will die. You're dying soon." "It's what I'm after." "I will cast Miss Eliza's coffin into this soon-to-be-sealed zone so you two can reunite." "No need. I know this place will become filthy, and my Eliza loved cleanliness above all." "I wish you a happy death." "Happy death." Once that shot was fired, there was no turning back. Ascending to godhood was no simple matter, nor was it something achieved through shortcuts—least of all under the conditions of this era. Karen drew out a condolence gift wrapped in black fabric and placed it at Neo's feet. The envelope had been improvised from torn cloth of his own clerical robes, stuffed with both riels and point coupons. Neo looked at the condolence money and asked, "So the reason you took so long to catch up was to prepare this?" Karen nodded. "Attending a good friend's funeral always takes a little time to gather one's emotions." "Isn't it a bit thin?" "Sorry, that's all I had on me. I even took it from Little Kanna's pocket money in her schoolbag." "How embarrassing. Remember to pay the kid back when you get home, and don't let that cat of yours find out." "Heh." "A pity I only got this one envelope." "Did you forget? Your funeral was held a long time ago. Everyone already gave you their condolence money." "True enough." The divine aura was still rising, but its rate of increase had slowed, signaling that the peak was approaching—to be followed by rapid decay. A practical reason Karen had rejected the God-Creation Project was that it could never succeed; it would only create a giant bubble of contamination, like setting off a meaningless firework. "All right, you can stand back a bit. I know you're a neat freak too." "My very first job was dressing the dead." Karen did not back away. Instead, he sighed. "I have to admit, it really is a magnificent way to die." "Right?" "It's just lacking a bit of passion. I remember you promised me you wouldn't die just for the sake of seeking death. You said yourself it was too low-class—not only unacceptable to you, but something you couldn't face Eliza with." "Hey, hey, hey, this is a path to godhood! Is that low-class? Heh, who in this era gets such a chance?" "Don't I? Even my dog can become a god." "I swear, back there, you didn't just pack the condolence money—you must have secretly rubbed honey on your lips." Karen waved a hand and turned to walk away. At that moment, the condensation of divinity finally peaked. A wisp of aura belonging to a god wafted from Rotini's phantom statue. The little bone dragon said, "Ooh, the aura of a god!" Kevin, perched on the bone dragon's head, let out a disdainful grunt: "Woof." What kind of ascension was this...? Without even a godhead fragment, trying to run before learning to walk—it amounted to nothing more than littering the world with second-rate garbage. Kevin looked down on this kind of "pseudo-god." Though he had only been a minor deity back then, he had walked every step solidly on his own feet, without the slightest shortcut. Karen hadn't intended to look back, reluctant to witness his good friend turn into a pile of "muck." Yet his footsteps halted anyway. He turned around and looked at Neo. The signs of decay had already surfaced, like a wad of cotton ignited on a concrete floor—burning fast, extinguishing just as fast, leaving behind nothing but a foul stench. Neo called out: "Hey, remember what I liked to call you back then?" Karen answered, "Lord Commander? Lord Minister? Or... Lord District Head?" "You shopkeeper fellow." Karen replied, "I closed shop a long time ago." "No, you transferred it to me." Neo lifted his head and shouted: "Hey, boys! If you don't come out and give it a shot, we're all turning into muck!" The next instant, the figure of Mr. Luther appeared behind Neo, still chattering, "Look at that, just look at that! Didn't I tell you? Violent actions only make the situation more complicated and worse." His appearance triggered a tremor in the corruptive power within the sealed contaminated burrow. That burrow was right here in Wien, not far off, and at this moment, that power seemed to echo his call. Soon, a new vortex appeared, pulling in the contamination from the burrow and infusing it into Rotini's phantom statue to replenish it. Immediately following him, the figure of a bloodthirsty aberrant demon in formal evening wear emerged. Stretching lazily, he laughed: "I wonder if this power can help me summon my true self. As long as I can establish a blood-sacrifice connection with my true self, I can draw upon his power and become the new true self!" The phantom of Young Mr. Philias also appeared, standing discreetly to one side as he remarked, "I'm just out to take a look—just looking." The Mad Pope, clad in pontifical robes, appeared last. His gaze was solemn. With virtually no hesitation, he reached out immediately upon emerging and clawed at Rotini's statue, brutally tearing off a massive chunk. The ancestor of the bloodthirsty aberrant demons instantly cursed, "You Light junior, how dare you snatch food from us!" The Mad Pope shoved that chunk into his mouth and swallowed it, a rich aura of Light instantly flowing from his body. When divine power merged with the purest faith in Light, a unique reaction occurred—for this was the first time in this era that Light belonging to a god had surged forth, even if it was just an insignificant sliver. "Meow meow meow?" Purr felt the tip of her tail growing hot; that Light finger was actually responding to this aura! ... At that very moment, scattered remnants of Light clinging to life across various lands—those possessing damaged altars and sub-divine artifacts—experienced sudden disturbances one after another. The believers in Light were utterly shocked by this phenomenon. They knew that frequent oracles and anomalies had been occurring across the orthodox churches in recent years, but they had never imagined such a grace would fall upon Light, withered and broken as it was today. They grew impassioned, weeping tears of joy. Adherents of Light desperately needed the descent and salvation of a god to lead them out of their sewer-rat existence and rebuild the Church of Light! ... Kevin, who had worn a disdainful expression earlier, couldn't help standing up now, watching the anomaly unfolding below. Rotini was petty trash in his eyes; Mr. Luther was a piece of junk; the ancestor of the bloodthirsty aberrant demons was nothing special; and even the Mad Pope wasn't truly worth his attention. Yet the aura of Light radiating from the Mad Pope, combined with the unique circumstances here, spawned a terrifying conjecture in his mind. Having regained his dog head and dog brain, Kevin began thinking rapidly. Countless past memories and textual records flashed through his mind at blinding speed. Kevin shared a key similarity with Karen: neither believed in concepts like "predestination" or "fate is unalterable." Otherwise, that youth on the island back then would never have embarked on the path to godhood, much less researched the taboos of time in an attempt to alter the trajectory of events already set in stone. Yet as a former god, he understood all too well the terror of those chief gods. And the overlords of the divine realm above the chief gods... their might was horrifying beyond description. If they wished, they could absolutely dictate fate according to their own designs. The God of Order had locked down this era, preventing the gods from returning. Sealed away, he and Karen had been cast out into the world. He had originally been a complete god, while Karen possessed the hunger addiction and could use it to tread the path to godhood anew... Yet when the God of Order arranged all this, had she truly left the opportunity for "godhood" only to him and Karen? On the day the God of Light vanished, the God of Order had personally ascended Mount Anlamende, and, bearing the severed head of the God of Light upon the Sword of Chaos, descended step by step under the gaze of all the gods. That act had raised the curtain on the final rift between the Order and Light camps! In the process of shutting out the pantheon of gods, had the God of Order left anything out? If so, given the God of Order's character... who could have made her make an exception? "Woof, woof, woof!" Kevin barked excitedly. Karen muttered thoughtfully to himself, "Could there still exist a third qualification for godhood in this era?"