Chapter 335: The Gaze of the God of Intelligence

City No. 1. Inside the top-floor conference hall of the Cosmic Enterprise—symbol of absolute authority—the atmosphere was so heavy it felt as if the air could drip water.

The design of this hall was deliberately modeled after the grandeur and solemnity of a Roman colosseum.

At its center stood a raised circular platform, on which seven imposing figures sat side by side. Each of them bore expressions of calm severity and natural authority.

They were the board of directors—the nominal supreme ruling body of the Cosmic Enterprise, and by extension, the entire fate of the cyber version of the world.

Beneath the platform, surrounding it in a vast ring, floated hundreds of virtual projections glowing with a dim blue light.

Among these holograms were figures resembling normal humans, some that appeared half-cybernetic, and even brains suspended in nutrient tanks. Though their appearances differed wildly, they all radiated the overwhelming presence of those who wielded power from the highest levels.

These were the regional managers stationed across every cyber city under the Cosmic Enterprise’s rule, as well as frontline commanders engaged in warfare against the allied forces of City No. 14.

This seemingly cold and vacant hall was, in truth, the core hub of authority over the entire cyberpunk world.

At this moment, the chairman presiding over the emergency meeting—an elderly man with hawk-like eyes and a face carved from years of prestige—was glaring at the flickering projections before him, his fury barely contained.

His raspy voice, hoarse from anger, thundered through the hall like a storm.

“Three days ago, I issued an order in the name of the board—our highest mandate—demanding that all of you, at any cost, investigate thoroughly. I want names! I want to know which damned fools have been spreading these heretical, blasphemous lies that defile our most holy God!”

“I even granted you permission to divert portions of the God Network’s computational power to aid your investigation! And after three days, what have you given me?”

As he roared, the chairman raised his arm sharply and pointed at the clearest projection closest to the platform.

“You—Regional Manager of City No. 5! Tell me—what the hell did you find?”

In the projection, the regional manager of City No. 5 appeared as a sharp-eyed, capable middle-aged man, though at the moment, his face was painted with helplessness and frustration.

Ever since real control of the Cosmic Enterprise had been transferred to the God of Intelligence, people like him—the once-powerful board members and regional rulers—had been reduced to mere mouthpieces and implementers of divine will. The glory of the past was long gone.

So in truth, he no longer feared this chairman as much as he once might have.

However, he also knew this incident involved the inscrutable God of Intelligence.

The board’s anger, in this case, likely reflected the deity’s will.

In such sensitive circumstances, no matter how bitter or powerless he felt, he had no choice but to swallow it down and respond cautiously.

“Respected Chairman, sir… I actually noticed the signs of these so-called cults as early as a week ago. I immediately ordered a secret investigation on all fronts.”

“But Chairman, you wouldn’t believe how cunning these rumor spreaders are.”

“We practically turned City No. 5 upside down. We even went as far as to divert valuable God Network computing power to filter data and track sources. But all we caught were some manipulated civilians.”

“The true culprits—the masterminds behind these blasphemous lies—we couldn’t trace any meaningful leads to them at all.”

The chairman’s expression grew even darker. He turned sharply toward the projection of another man—the regional manager of City No. 3.

The latter, apparently anticipating the question, quickly nodded and spoke up.

“Chairman, the situation in my district is nearly identical to that of City No. 5.”

“Many citizens even swore they witnessed a so-called Buddha descending in person—and claimed to have accepted some divine Buddhist teachings.”

“But no matter how thoroughly we reviewed surveillance footage or scanned the soul memory fragments of witnesses, we found nothing. It’s as if the entire event was a mass hallucination!”

At that, it was as if a floodgate had burst open. The hall exploded in a flurry of similar complaints:

“Exactly! Those heretical rumors seemed to materialize out of thin air, spreading like a plague among the public!”

“The speed and scope of it—it’s absurd!”

“We spent two whole years promoting the Gospel of the Almighty God. We poured in manpower, resources—everything. And even now, not even one-fifth of the populace genuinely believes in the God Myth!”

“But these cursed cults… they’ve only existed for a month! A month! And already they’ve infected nearly one-third of our population!”

Another speaker added gravely, “What’s worse is that even the rest—those who haven’t yet turned to the cults—are now unlikely to ever believe in our God Myth again.”

“This is a complete collapse of the public’s faith in our divine narrative!”

These rulers—so used to being worshiped—were now like ants on a hot plate, scrambling to identify the root cause of the chaos.

Had any Title-Level Reincarnator been present, they would’ve effortlessly answered the board’s dilemma.

The explosive spread of these heretical cults was no coincidence. It was the calculated result of tapping into the deeply rooted distrust the public had toward the Cosmic Enterprise.

After hundreds of years of ruthless exploitation and oppression, the people of this cyberpunk world had come to believe—deep in their bones—that the Enterprise was the devil incarnate.

In such a climate, it was only natural that the masses would reject the divine mythology being force-fed to them by their oppressors.

Even after City No. 14’s independence, and even after the Enterprise toned down its exploitation and refined its preaching tactics, centuries of distrust could not be erased in a day.

Thus, all the Title-Level Reincarnators had to do was fabricate a few “truths”—claims of hidden conspiracies behind the God Myth—and the masses would eat it up like gospel.

After all, those Reincarnators were hardened veterans of countless worlds, rich in experience and resources.

To boost the credibility of their fabricated doctrines, they spared no expense in distributing artifacts that, in the eyes of the ordinary people of this comparatively primitive world, were no different from miracles.

Compared to that, the Cosmic Enterprise’s original preaching—based on abstract promises of paradise after death—was laughably outdated and unconvincing.

As the cacophony of complaints filled the hall, the chairman gradually began to cool down, his reason taking over.

He realized that this mass outbreak of cult myths wasn’t accidental.

Behind it had to be one—or several—formidable forces.

Compared to this ideological threat, the allied army from City No. 14—even if they took a few border cities—seemed like child’s play.

“Do we really need to request permission from God… to activate the Skynet Canopy early?”

The chairman’s brows furrowed deeply.

Even the almighty God Network couldn’t trace the source of these rumors. Would unleashing the global canopy, with its exorbitant energy demands, really make a difference?

Just then, a serene, warm, yet awe-inspiring voice resounded without warning in every soul present:

“Those who defile the divine… I have already seen them.”

It wasn’t heard—it was felt, directly within the soul.

The moment the voice rang out, all the rulers present instinctively stopped breathing. Their bodies leaned forward in reverence, expressions filled with fear and devotion.

It was the voice of the God of Intelligence.

To the public, the God of Intelligence was an abstract idea—a code, a concept.

But the people in this hall knew the truth.

This deity was real.

Some of the oldest among them had even witnessed the evolution of the God—beginning as a soul-calculating machine, then a super-AI that helped conquer the world, and finally a true deity with its own will, its own intelligence… and even emotions.

In the eyes of many among them, the God of Intelligence was the very same supreme being spoken of in their gospel.

“They are but lowly insects,” said the God, calm and unwavering. “They exploited tiny loopholes to momentarily evade My gaze.”

That one word—”loophole”—made many of the high-level members stiffen.

They immediately thought of the ancient “Heavenly Dao Code.”

Everyone present had either used it or known someone who had.

For a time, it was the only way to block the God’s perception. But it had long since lost effectiveness—its users purged in brutal bloodbaths, their positions replaced.

Now, hearing the God mention a “loophole,” many couldn’t help but wonder—could the heretics’ escape be linked to the old code?

While they pondered this, hundreds of sapphire-blue eyes suddenly opened silently in front of each attendee—like glowing jewels, shining with divine light.

Each one of them seemed to contain infinite wisdom—daring not to be stared at directly.

“What you must do next is simple,” came the God’s voice again, carrying the weight of divine command.

“Take these Eyes of Insight I bestow upon you. Carry My gaze into the shadows.”

“You need not fight. So long as the heretics are within the vision of these eyes, My divine wrath will descend instantly.”

“I shall watch quietly… from Paradise above.”

(End of Chapter)