Chapter 393: Holy City (18) The Orator

“I’m very curious who you plan to vote for in the morning.” In Room 0, Zhis leaned back on the bed, smiling as he watched Fu Jue sitting beside him.

With three puppets, one teammate who became completely obedient after being threatened, and Fu Jue himself, the Puppeteer’s faction has a total of five people, theoretically capable of determining anyone’s life or death through collective voting.

It is known that none of the Investigation Bureau representatives are Heretics, yet Thompson is the Son of God who must choose a Heretic or die if he chooses incorrectly. Once the Heretic is chosen from among the four representatives, Fu Jue’s side will lose two members, which is clearly disadvantageous to him.

As for choosing the true Heretic… given the existence of the record 【Let the Dead Bury Their Dead】, Zhis himself cannot be an option. The choice can only be made between Asakura Yuko and Vid. Furthermore, Asakura Yuko, as the holder of the 【Forbidden Scholar】 identity card, needs to survive for a bit longer.

Calculating it this way, there seems to be only one option left.

But all of this is based on the premise that the record 【The Son of God is Nailed to the Cross】 does not exist. Fu Jue has never publicly stated the effect of this record.

“‘The Son of God is Nailed to the Cross’ is a prophecy.” Fu Jue heard Zhis’s probing, his tone utterly calm. “Whatever is prophesied must happen. The fate of the Son of God identity is already sealed, which is the theoretical basis for my strategy against the Ancestral God. After tomorrow, that identity slot must be vacant, and the candidate must be in a state of complete uncertainty. I will exterminate the God they worship on this land that once fanatically believed in the divine, marking the grand opening of the Age of Atheism.”

Zhis suddenly understood and laughed, “Quite a sacrifice. Even I can’t help but feel a shred of respect for you.”

His tone was laced with sarcasm, yet he raised his eyes, looking past the frescoed dome toward the silver-white eyes high above the sky.

Everything happening in the Holy City cannot escape the Ancestral God’s eyes, including the current machinations of the two of them. By revealing genuine and false information straightforwardly, the information available to all parties in the game is equal. Now it depends on whether the omniscient and omnipotent Ancestral God is willing to risk joining the game.

This is an open conspiracy, a gamble involving all men and gods… At the Holy City Cemetery, Flor’s corpse crawled out of the pile of bodies under the cover of night and staggered toward the East District.

He blended in with the wandering corpse group, slowly moved to the side of the street, and raised his stiff hand to knock on the windows of house after house.

“Dong, dong, dong…”

The crisp sound was hard to ignore in the silent night. Screams of fear and trembling prayers came from the houses; the occupants clearly took him as one of the night’s temptations and dangers, terrified of stepping into the trap of depravity.

Flor didn’t care. Or rather, as a corpse long dead, crawling back to the human world from Hell under the control of an Evil God, he had already lost his soul and naturally couldn’t feel “care.”

After knocking on one house, he moved to the next and continued knocking. Soon, the sound of “dong dong dong” knocking echoed throughout the entire Holy City.

Curious people cautiously pulled back their curtains, leaning on the windowsills to peek outside through the gaps, and cried out in terror upon seeing the scene of rampant corpses.

But they soon discovered that they hadn’t “fallen” as the priests had warned; they were still human, still alive, and hadn’t become Heretics.

More and more people saw the scene in the city and discovered contradictions with the priests’ propaganda. Some bolder individuals pushed open their doors and stood in the chaotic streets, looking around.

They witnessed an unforgettable scene: a huge, golden-glowing tumor hung suspended above the Temple, its surface writhing with gnarled and twisted blood vessels that stretched like the roots of a giant tree into every corner of the Holy City.

Glass jars filled with flesh and blood were placed on the streets. Corpses lined up, jumping into the jars one after another, becoming part of the flesh and blood, much like the donations made by the believers during the day.

The tumor’s blood vessels plunged into the glass jars, contracting and expanding to suck up the flesh and blood held inside. Its surface gradually began to emit a brilliant golden light—the divine radiance described in legends.

The believers simultaneously realized that their donations had all been offered to this terrifying existence. This was the so-called danger of the Holy City at night, the secret the priests didn’t want them to see.

They refused to believe that this filthy thing was their God, so a more palatable explanation spread: the priests had fallen, using their faith in the Holy City to pledge allegiance to an Evil God; the Holy City’s night was occupied by an Evil God, and their God was currently fighting it.

“No wonder the more we donated, the longer the night became! Those priests deceived us!”

“My God! What have we done? If it weren’t for Flor, we’d still be kept in the dark…”

“Holy Lord! Please tell us how we can help you!”

Flor stood in the center of the crowd and showed everyone the healed knife wounds on his neck. This was a miracle akin to “resurrection from the dead,” further convincing people that he had received instructions from the true divine: the true God loves the world and would not cause them such suffering.

He took a parchment scroll from his bosom and raised his right hand like the Prophet Moses in a religious painting, unfurling the scroll using the strong night wind.

The words on it were clearly not large, yet everyone, regardless of distance, could see them distinctly, as if they were brands deeply etched into their souls:

“Lord of the Gods, exiled beyond the world’s rules.”

“Sovereign of Souls, wielding the authority of contracts and transactions.”

“A Great Existence, older than history itself.”

…Zhis had replaced all the Ancestral God’s divine names in the Holy City with his own long before the ending began.

When the faith of all believers pointed toward him, everyone became a Heretic in the eyes of the city created by the Ancestral God.

Heretics are not protected by the Holy City’s rules and can be killed by anyone. The restriction originally imposed on everyone—【No attacking others in the Holy City】—naturally vanished.

Of course, there was an additional effect: the Ancestral God, having lost its believers, would have its control over this instance greatly weakened, and the identity cards under its pathway would also be affected.

The silver-white eyes embedded in the night sky still watched the entire city calmly, like the ancient moon and stars, revolving through countless days and nights unchangingly.

Asakura Yuko, far away in the Temple, suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest. She looked up at the sky, meeting the eyes despite the obstruction of the ceiling and the long distance, and suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity.

“Yuko, what are you looking at?” Vid asked.

“Nothing,” Asakura Yuko habitually replied vaguely.

She felt irritable, like a fawn standing under a tree, craning its neck to chew the leaves on the branches but missing by a single millimeter—a feeling of failure right before success, not originating from herself, but from… “Kacha—” She heard the sound of a barrier shattering. A voice roared from the depths of her mind: “Yuko, wake up! What’s wrong with you? I, your humble servant, can’t handle being scared like this…”

The eyes high above the sky began to bleed threads of red, and their radiance thinned with the passage of time. Asakura Yuko woke up as if from a nightmare; the world before her eyes became clear, as if a filter had been removed.

A scene hidden by external forces in her memory suddenly emerged from the fog and gradually became vivid in the depths of her dark mind.

It was a mobilization rally held by the Balance Church. Among the attendees were her and Zou Yan, and the host was White Raven.

She couldn’t recall the specific content of the speech, but she clearly remembered the phantom image of the 【Imaginary Orator】 identity card appearing behind White Raven.

On the card face, a figure in white clothing faced the crowd, arms wide open, seemingly rallying them.

Countless white doves flew out from the figure’s wide sleeves. Their tail feathers and wingtips gradually turned black, settling on everyone’s shoulders, and finally transforming into pure black ravens.

Asakura Yuko subconsciously raised her hand and touched her right shoulder. When she lowered her hand, there was a handful of black raven feathers in her palm.

【The “Imaginary Orator” hidden effect “Only God”…】

【Note: You are the only sun. Your light illuminates all directions. Your thoughts are the thoughts of all…】

Past scenes surfaced before her eyes: repeated slaughter and sacrifice, repeatedly pushing the innocent toward death, arrogantly believing they were right while walking down the wrong path. All members of the Balance Church had become extensions of White Raven’s will…

After that, she encountered the Ancestral God in this instance dungeon. The chaotic and bizarre scenes overlapped and obscured her vision, easily modifying her perception until she believed she was a clone of the Ancestral God, nearly committing an irreversible act.

On the day she bound the 【Forbidden Scholar】 identity card, Asakura Yuko met Senior Xiao—the former President of the Tingfeng Guild, Xiao Fengchao—for the first time.

Xiao Fengchao, who was already in a state of undeath, mysteriously told her, “We are the group who truly grasp the truth. Our responsibility is immensely heavy, so we must be even more cautious.”

She understood that great power comes with great responsibility. Those who are unworthy of their position are deadwood, and a slight carelessness could harm others.

So now, was she—who was so easily corrupted—truly worthy of holding the Forbidden Scholar identity card?

In this world, was any human truly worthy of holding this card?

For a sharp weapon that no one can truly control, perhaps the best way to dispose of it is to bury it in the dirt.

As Asakura Yuko thought about this, her heart grew cold.

“Yuko, what’s wrong?” Wade stared intently at Asakura Yuko, his eyes full of suspicion. “Did you trigger some mechanism? Your face looks terrible. You’re not about to die, are you?”

Asakura Yuko remained silent and walked straight out of the room, seemingly ignoring Wade’s question.

The moment she stepped over the threshold and turned back to close the door, an emotionless announcement echoed above her head:

【You are a Follower of the Night. Please exit and select a target.】

【If you are sure who you wish to kill, knock three times on the door.】

Her footsteps paused slightly, and she turned her head to look at the door behind her.

Wade had noticed her anomaly. Given his nature, he would certainly look for an opportunity to kill her to eliminate future trouble, unless she struck first.

She was a Heretic, and she still had one killing opportunity left. Should she really use it here?

Asakura Yuko remained silent for a long time before finally making a decision. She pulled a yellowed page of history from her pocket, picked up a pen, and wrote furiously upon it.

She thought of a way to bury the Forbidden Scholar card forever.

The disappearance of one card was insignificant in stopping the Ancestral God, but it was the most valuable thing she, a “normal person,” could do… Inside the room, Wade watched Asakura Yuko’s back disappear behind the door and dropped his relaxed expression.

Although he was a strength-based player, his intelligence was not low. He could sense that Asakura Yuko had barely spoken a true word and had concealed many things from him.

Previously, there had been no conflict of interest; on the contrary, cooperation allowed them to lower the difficulty of exploration. He was happy to play dumb, letting Asakura Yuko take the lead while he preserved his own trump cards.

But at this moment, more and more suspicious points were exposed. The facade of peace could no longer be maintained, and Wade knew he had to make a decision.

As the youngest son of a certain Federation Director, although he was destined to be politically isolated his entire life, he still possessed many privileges that allowed him to act recklessly as long as he didn’t go too far.

In terms of disregarding human life, he had never been inferior to anyone. No matter how brilliant a player was, to him, they were nothing more than a name.

Furthermore, Asakura Yuko was not very famous. If she weren’t an identity card holder, no one would even know she existed.

Wade sneered, flipping open the page of history in his hand. A record was clearly written on it: 【Offer the soul and flesh of the sacrifice to the God.】

This was a record he had obtained while exploring the temple backyard last night. Its effect was to kill any player or NPC in the instance dungeon. He had already written Asakura Yuko’s number on the back of the page; all he had to do was tear the page, and the effect would activate.

As the sound of tearing paper rang out, a heavy thud echoed from outside the door.

Wade thought, ‘Just as expected.’ Asakura Yuko hadn’t left at all; she was probably preparing to kill him right outside the door. If he hadn’t acted faster, he would be the one dead now.

He felt a slight shiver of fear, but his heart was filled more with the thrill of dancing on the edge of life and death. He was almost backstabbed by a teammate but successfully pre-empted the backstab—the plot was simply exhilarating. If the Eerie Game couldn’t be known by ordinary people, he would have hired actors to film this scene.

Wade hummed a tune, got up, and walked out. He looked down at Asakura Yuko’s pale corpse, and his gaze fell upon the 【Heretic】 identity card that had materialized from her body, making the whole situation feel even more perilous.

He knew that killing as a Heretic was written into the instance dungeon mechanism, meaning it was likely much easier than his method of killing.

Scattered near the corpse’s hand were several pages covered densely in ink, appearing to be clues.

Wade bent down and picked up the topmost page. After scanning the contents, he narrowed his eyes.

Written on it in neat handwriting were the following words:

【Wade, there are some things that will determine your life and death that I did not tell you before. I will now explain them to you one by one:

You should be clear on one thing: tomorrow’s vote is unfavorable to you. At least four people belong to the same faction and can decide anyone’s fate through bloc voting. After my death, you will be their only target for the vote.

However, you don’t necessarily have to wait for death. Immediately bind the ‘Forbidden Scholar’ identity card, find Fu Jue, negotiate with him as an equal identity card holder, and cooperate to end this instance dungeon before the vote begins. This is the only way to break the deadlock.

Leaving the instance dungeon does not mean you are safe. Currently, all identity card holders have guilds backing them. As a free player, you will become a target of public criticism. I trust you’re not too stupid to understand the underlying logic.

I belong to both the Tingfeng Guild and the Scales Church. You inheriting my identity card means that both major factions have lost the opportunity to compete in the final instance dungeon, and they will not let you go.

Go to the Tingfeng Guild’s station in the Ruins of the Setting Sun and find President Yu; he will protect you. Of course, you could also enter the Tower of Babylon directly, if you’re not afraid of death.】

Wade sneered and tore the page in his hand to shreds. The yellowish-white paper scraps fluttered everywhere like withered leaves.

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of chilling white teeth: “This woman anticipated that I would kill her, so she deliberately wrote all this nonsense, thinking she could scare me?”

Dead men tell no tales. From Asakura Yuko’s corpse, a new card solidified its outline: a black-robed figure holding a book, with numerous black tentacles surging beneath the sleeves, forming a large mass of tangible darkness… It was the 【Forbidden Scholar】 identity card.

Wade gripped the card between two fingers. Black patterns spread like spiderwebs along his veins, and torrents of knowledge crashed against his skull, bringing phantom pain.

The effect of the identity card appeared in the upper left corner of his vision: 【When upright, you can take up the pen and rewrite the historical trajectory of this world…】

Asakura Yuko’s past words echoed in his ears: “There’s no need. Even if I tell you the truth, you might not believe me, so it’s better not to say anything.”

“I already told you that the effect of my identity card is to record history. I, too, am confused that it developed into the current situation.”

Wade’s expression became strange, his eye twitching. It seemed amusing, yet also ironic, finally settling into a frozen bewilderment.

His lips trembled, and he finally uttered just one sentence: “Ha, she actually didn’t lie to me…”

Black mist flowed slowly, tracing strange patterns in the air. Footsteps appeared and faded like an illusion, triggering a nervous alertness.

A cold, flat male voice sounded not far away: “It seems you have determined the final survivor. We can now proceed to the next phase of the plan.”

Wade turned his head in response, seeing a figure in a black suit abruptly appear at the entrance of the corridor. The eyes behind the glasses were devoid of emotion—it was Fu Jue, who should have been dead.

“You really didn’t die.” Wade’s voice was cold, and Asakura Yuko’s previous assertion involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

Did she know all this beforehand? Ha, it must be. That’s why she deliberately chose to die, leaving the mess for him… Malice brewed in Wade’s heart, and his tone became even less polite: “I don’t have any other choice anyway. Tell me your plan.”

Fu Jue nodded slightly and walked toward him step by step: “Now, I need you to immediately bind the 【Forbidden Scholar】 identity card.”