A Classic Dilemma

It was fake. Minkler's old man might have exploded, but it was pretty unlikely for his old man to actually stay blown up. Right before Lou Feng's and Minkler's eyes, the pouring rain of blood rose once more toward the sky, converging again to completely reconstitute in the blink of an eye. Laughing maniacally, Bustamante spewed a pitch-black tide from his mouth straight at the three-headed, six-armed Boggio! "Your dad's alive," Lou Feng said. "..." Minkler's face twitched. "I can see that. Can't you say something I don't know?" *Boom!* Amid mantras that shook heaven and earth, brilliant light blazed furiously. "That move is the Fire of Envy." Taking his advice readily, Lou Feng pointed and explained, "Wulou Temple places great emphasis on 'Absolute Emptiness' and 'Nirvana.' They believe nothing acquired after birth truly belongs to you. If one wishes to truly attain supreme, perfect enlightenment, then everything outside oneself is foreign—even the notion of the self not being the self is an inverted dream. The jewel tempered through Tummo meditation is one's own self-nature, the one and only true path. "Beyond that, all love, hatred, and even mercy are treated as evil thoughts and demonic paths that must be stripped away entirely. What's burning right now is the monk's discriminatory mind, stripped out from his self-nature, which in turn gave rise to envy..." "Huh?" Minkler looked utterly bewildered, struck dumb like a wooden chicken. "Didn't catch a word." "Oh. In simple terms, your dad is on fire." "..." Minkler opened his mouth, then stopped. *Boom!* "Your dad just got struck by lightning." This time, Lou Feng was short and to the point. Minkler's expression twitched violently. *You just wanted an excuse to say that line, didn't you?!* After another deafening roar, Lou Feng had just parted his lips when Minkler couldn't help raising a hand to cut him off. "Fine, I get it... You don't need to say another word." In the brief silence that followed, Lou Feng sighed with lingering regret. *Your old man sure has a lot of moves!* A hurricane blasted against them. Yet how could there be a hurricane within the Netherworld? The memories of countless shattered souls had surged like a tide amid the struggle, sweeping violently in all directions. Lou Feng swung Chunjun in his hand, noiselessly carving a slit through the deluge. The two slipped through like phantoms, raising not the slightest ripple and drawing no attention whatsoever. Inside this House God, bizarre spectacles manifested and vanished in rapid succession. The earth shattered, the vault of heaven collapsed, and the entire island of Xiangzhou was riddled with fissures, gushing blood like geysers. Beneath the fractured crust, tentacles of flesh and blood emerged. As the quickening progressed, twisted corpses spewed forth from below, squirming and writhing. Others surged upward like titanic trees, rising one after another. Those were the pillars of the House God—or rather, the chains binding this immense power. The ancestors and elders of the Chopra family across generations. The oil paintings hung throughout the family manor had dedicated lavish space to portraying their heroic might and seasoned wisdom, yet now, nothing was left of them but hollow, warped faces. In fact, the vast majority were already on the verge of turning into Bustamante's likeness. "Constant dropping wears away the stone." Lou Feng clicked his tongue in wonder. "Your dad really put a lot of work into the family ancestors... Turning the natural order upside down is no easy feat." Minkler raised a hand in protest. "Could you just call him by his name?" "I'm just trying to help you feel more immersed." "I don't need that, thank you very much!" Minkler's face twitched as he glanced sideways at the wildly cackling Bustamante, his expression turning bleak. What kind of filial piety or fatherly affection was there to speak of? From the very start, he had been a designated sacrifice, a tool Bustamante used to provoke fratricide and mutual slaughter among his offspring—a sacrificial offering that stood out just enough and carried just the right weight. *Before considering victory, consider defeat first.* Ji Jue never shrank from suspecting his adversaries of the foulest intentions. Besides, when setting out to get things done, who in their right mind would rely on a single plan without having a backup in reserve? The more complicated a plan, the easier it was for things to go wrong. No matter how many contingencies one prepared, they could only plug leaks and cut losses. To truly win and achieve one's objective without a hitch, one first had to understand the absolute worst-case scenario. That included whether Bustamante was dead or alive. Although the old bastard had died thoroughly right in front of everyone, considering the mess he had stirred up right before breathing his last, it always made one suspect there was something fishy behind it... Even if it wasn't him, someone else was bound to fish in troubled waters. After conferring with Lou Feng, both had agreed on one conclusion: setting aside external onlookers, there was a very high probability that something was seriously wrong inside the Chopra family's House God! Even if there wasn't a problem, they had to prepare under the assumption that there was. That was how an artisan operated; they never fought an unprepared battle. Even if it meant wasting a few materials, that was far better than pinning one's hopes on luck only to lie down and die when disaster struck. Thus, through great effort and expense, they had used Chunjun to smuggle Lou Feng's splintered spirit into the House God's interior as a safety net... Otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to witness such a magnificent spectacle. "Your dad really is something else," Lou Feng remarked amid the clash between the two sides. "To actually turn around and exploit the House God's nature and the Chopra family's tradition to solve the biggest issue plaguing himself, the House God, and the family as a whole... "I bet he spent far more than a single year preparing this plan, didn't he?" No, in all likelihood, the thought had crossed his mind the moment he began playing studhorse to churn out offspring for the family. Everyone had assumed he treated his children as tools to forge alliances and expand the family's influence. No one had imagined he wouldn't even spare their lives or souls! He wanted to usurp and take over the mantle of the House God with his own will! The foundation of the House God was the Chopra bloodline, and its essence was a collective of ancestral spirits—a colossal composite spiritual entity created through the blending of numerous secret rites, an uncontrollable man-made fierce spirit. Precisely because it was overly massive and berserk, it lacked reason. Precisely because its internal composition was chaotic and its countless souls constantly clashed with one another, it could never form a unified consciousness. Without altering the House God's structure, the problem could never be solved. Without breaking its shackles, the House God could never truly be completed. Yet once the shackles were broken and its structure altered, how could it still be called a House God, and how could it still be considered controllable? In turn, the existence and constraints of the House God shackled the Chopra family, drastically lowering the chances of any member achieving Autonomous Awakening across generations... They couldn't live without it, yet they couldn't cast it aside—a dead end that had trapped the family heads of every generation. Only Bustamante had blazed a new trail, choosing the long way around to take a shortcut. It was simple: *I'll just sire more children!* If the House God was built on bloodline, then strengthen the bloodline. If it was a collection of souls, then add more souls... By drastically expanding his direct lineage, he could increase his personal proportion within the House God! Studhorse financing, issuing new shares! Using Bustamante's branch family to replace the greater Chopra family. By injecting the lives and souls of a massive number of offspring all at once as an investment, he would inflate his own weight inside the House God. Through this process, he would gradually phase out and replace those senile, mad ancestors with his own children, ultimately transforming the Chopra family's House God entirely into Bustamante's House God. When that time came, surrounded by the souls of countless offspring, he would become the true House God! The family would forever be governed by the House God, and anyone who bore the blood of the Chopras would be his to kill or spare at will. He would be the living embodiment of the Chopra family! If left unchecked... in a few short years, a new Tyrant would be born from the shadows behind the Chopra family! The theory was straightforward, but executing it was fraught with endless hardship. There was no telling how much energy and painstaking effort he had poured into this, or how many obstacles he had overcome. Yet compared to the fullness of ideals, reality was always harsh. There were always accidents. First, Boggio's desperate, cornered gamble had disrupted his schedule. Then, the catfish he had chosen before his death—Minkler—had fulfilled his expectations a little too well. He had muddied the waters completely, kicking off an internal bloodbath. The trouble was, he had fulfilled them *far* too well. He was way too damned good at stirring up trouble! He had thrown the entire Seven Cities into utter chaos, left everyone on Xiangzhou trembling in fear, and brought the Sukarno family right to their doorstep. Before many of the sons and daughters could even die off, they had been forced to band together, bringing the House God selection forward ahead of schedule. Not enough people had died! There were still at least forty-odd precious offspring registered in the House Fire, running around out there and waiting for the outcome! What was worse, there were wolves in front and tigers behind. First came the wretched creeps from Wulou Temple, drooling hungrily over the fat prize of Xiangzhou. Then there was that dog Ji Jue, rubbing his hands together in glee, ready to step all over the Chopra family as a springboard for his grand ambitions! Going from calm composure to scrambling on hands and knees had shaken even Bustamante's nerve. Being a mastermind pulling strings from the shadows was truly no easy job. The moment you turned off the lights, countless hands reached in through the dark, groping up and down until your stockings were practically worn down to the fuzz. Who wouldn't panic in that situation?! No matter how aloof and unfathomably grand he appeared right now, he had in truth been backed into a corner. If Boggio lost, the worst he would have to do was flee, or at least survive as a monk's slave in Wulou Temple. If Minkler lost, he could simply brush the dust off his trousers, lead the Seven Cities Joint Defense out to sea to play pirate, and perhaps still carve out a vast future for himself. Where could Bustamante go if he lost? Into the mouth of the House God! The moment the House God lost control, the first thing it would devour was him! The muddled, maddened ancestors wouldn't spare him either, let alone his children... He had already been forced to the edge of the cliff. To seize control of the House God, he had to completely digest those mongrels from Wulou Temple! Bustamante had lost his mind entirely. Amid clash after clash, as the entirety of Xiangzhou turned into flesh and blood, his body and face rapidly swelled, rotted, dripped cadaverous fluids, and exposed stark white bones. Once the glamorous facade shattered, his true form was laid bare! Adorned with a magnificent, awe-inspiring golden crown, his entire body wound with pearls and jade, he gripped a serpentine sword in one hand and an axe in the other—an image subtly aligning with numerous myths across the Thousand Islands. That was the insidious influence wrought by the countless mangled souls he had consumed. Things that lacked a self were destined to be warped and rewritten like this until they were unrecognizable. Yet that very same influence also brought about the coalescence of self-nature and power! Under the steady push of generations of the family, it had evolved into the exclusive armaments of the House God. The golden crown symbolized the crown of divinity, immortal and indestructible. The pearls and jade manifested majesty, the condensation of venomous curses. The serpentine sword symbolized the harvesting and butchering of souls, while the blood-axe stood for the judgment and punishment of heresy. Meanwhile, the spectral old monk behind Boggio was also undergoing constant changes. Numerous ritual implements manifested across his six arms, and his skin gradually deepened into an indigo hue, drawing closer to the revered form of a guru. Treading upon a black serpent, spewing azure flames, and riding atop a lion of white bone, he charged back and forth, subduing the heretics and demons before him. Within this realm of consciousness formed of countless dead souls, it was as if two monsters of myth were brawling all the way to the ends of the universe, trailing streams of aura that pulverized chaos itself! Yet all this was merely the outward manifestation of the struggle for control over the House God! Using bloodline and souls as pillars, or gradually infiltrating through faith and worship, the now-split spirit of the House God was completely locked in a battle against itself... To make matters worse, interference from the outside world never ceased. Whenever Ji Jue held the upper hand, the old monk was pinned to the ground and battered by Bustamante. Whenever Badanta exerted his strength outside, Bustamante had his brains knocked out. And when a single thought from Dharma King Shanzhu descended like an overlord, lending the guru power to begin dyeing and transforming the House God, the mangled, uncanny Netherworld transformed in an instant into a pure land of paradise, filled with lotus blossoms, jeweled trees, and rivers of agate and lapis lazuli. The House God shrieked and roared! From the convergence of countless souls, the House God finally revealed its true countenance. It seemed to fill the entire world, yet remained curled like an infant. Half its body was compassionate and merciful like a god or Buddha, while the other half was rotting and withered like an evil ghost. The spreading ripples tore through their disguises, revealing the two figures. Minkler suddenly materialized before their eyes. Bustamante's half-face looked as if it had received a royal pardon, shouting in pleasant surprise, "Minkler, you're just in time! My child, hurry and kill this unfilial, wolf-hearted wretch Boggio! "You are the heir I personally chose! I'll support your righting of wrongs, and I'll support Ji Jue ruling the Seven Cities!" "Don't listen to his bullshit!" Boggio's face twisted as he bellowed, "The old bastard is just using you! Help me kill this old dog Bustamante, and I'll make you the head of the house! Otherwise, you won't walk out of here alive either!" "You beast! Ingrate! I'm your father!" "Why haven't you dropped dead already, you old relic?!" The dog-eat-dog struggle continued, a fight to the bitter death. It was like an ordinary mortal stumbling into a duel between immortals and demons with only a single dose of life-saving medicine in hand—do you save the saintess, or the enchantress? Lou Feng didn't say a word. If that bastard Ji Jue were here, he would probably spout some nonsense about a "classic dilemma" or something. In reality, picking either of them meant dying a dog's death! Bustamante was trying to drag Minkler into the fray to muddy the waters so he could fish in the chaos and launch a sudden counterattack, whereas Boggio... was purely stalling for time! Stalling until the guru's will finished dyeing and claiming the House God! Neither side truly expected Minkler to help them, nor did either side intend to let him live! Even now, they still treated him as nothing more than a tool... "I see." Minkler finally began to smile. An epiphany dawned upon him. It was not that he had suddenly unraveled the mystery, nor was he shocked by the true colors of these two men. Rather, it was the belated realization... that all the desperate struggles and agonizing hesitations of his life, everything he had once believed in without a shred of doubt, were so utterly ridiculous. He had originally wanted to confront them, to ask how his mother had truly died. Yet reaching this point, he discovered that there was no longer any need. Everything that foolish woman had loved, the fairy tales she had told her child, the wonderful hopes and the bright future—none of it had ever existed. It had been nothing more than a dream sprouted from lies and hypocrisy. Now, the dream had ended. There was no longer any need for pretense, nor was there any room for tears or sorrow. All that remained was one single task! "There's no need... to trouble either of you anymore." Minkler raised his hand and plunged it straight into his own soul, gripping tight. As though ripping out his own spine, he drew out that soul-severing blade inch by inch! A brilliant radiance blazed forth, illuminating his smile. Yet against that dazzling glare, his bright, radiant grin turned as ferocious and hideous as a fiend's. He said, "I'll do you both a favor at the same time!" *Boom!* The moment the final seal unraveled, the blade disintegrated! Countless motes of fluorescence erupted from the shattering blade, spreading, soaring, multiplying, expanding, and swelling further... In the snap of a finger, it was like a sea of light, flooding everything in sight! The dagger was finally revealed at the end of the scroll. Before stepping onto Xiangzhou, there were two spiritus swords that Ji Jue had made him swallow. The first, Ji Jue had said, was called Chunjun. It was meant to serve as a vessel to host Lou Feng's splintered soul, slipping past the gates in secret to guarantee Minkler's safety while keeping the House God selection firmly under control. And the second, Ji Jue had said, was a gift for his ancestors and brothers, inviting everyone to share in ultimate bliss together. Its name was the Lord of the Flies!