Chapter 115

115

The rain fell in sheets. With its industrial systems nearly ground to a halt, Changjia’s water was surprisingly clean.

Lu Yan hadn’t brought an umbrella, but he didn’t mind the rain.

Only a few dozen seconds had passed, yet his brother’s face was already blurring in his memory, leaving behind nothing but a heart-stopping silhouette.

He exhaled a heavy breath and pushed open the door in front of him.

It was a Western-style restaurant. Judging by the decor, the owner hadn’t spared any expense. A piano in the corner sat beneath a thick blanket of dust.

[The Holy One is in the kitchen freezer.]

On the map, the red dot was almost on top of him.

Lu Yan pushed into the back kitchen. A wave of putrid stench hit him.

[The power’s been out too long. Everything in the freezer’s rotted.]

Especially the meat and eggs. Insects had once swarmed the place, but decades later, even the flies they hatched were long gone. Only the nauseating reek remained.

There was no light here. None. This wasn’t ordinary darkness; it was a blackness that seemed to swallow any glimmer whole.

If not for his new eyes, Lu Yan would have been completely blind.

[This was the Holy One’s favorite restaurant back when he was still an insurance salesman. Here, he proposed to the girl he loved.]

[She said no. She had a rare disease, and Changjia was just a small island nation with limited medical care. She needed a better, bigger hospital.]

[So, the Holy One used his gift. He founded the Cult of Bliss and began a life of grand deception.]

“You make it sound like you’re justifying him.”

[No. He became a worshipped god, tasted power, and realized his gift could be used this way. He gained wealth, status, more and prettier women. The girl he’d once loved seemed ordinary now. He gave up on treatment, but came up with a better method. A way for them to be together forever.]

[He ate her brain. From that moment on, he was already a pollutant. The sickness started in his own mind.]

The Cult of Bliss grew powerful on Changjia. His influence on this tiny island soon eclipsed even the local president’s. The Holy One was careful, ensuring Changjia wouldn’t attract outside attention too soon. But time passed, and his body aged.

The Holy One wanted his divine kingdom to last for eternity. He sought a form that would never decay.

He began frequently inhabiting other bodies, calling it “Divine Descent.” Humans were merely shells piloted by a brain.

But human bodies were fragile. And the ordered human society wasn’t the true divine kingdom he desired.

So, he abandoned the human form entirely, becoming what he is now.

The mass deaths of believers on Changjia finally drew outside attention. It also drew the attention of Divine Kingdom Operations.

It was only then the Holy One realized this world held more than just “pollutants” like them. There were also these fearless, evolving humans stuck in the middle of the chain.

He was defeated, but never believed he could die. As one of the pinnacle psychic-class pollutants, as long as “thought” existed in the world, he and the Cult of Bliss would endure.

—Until now.

Lu Yan wrenched the freezer open. Bags of ingredients were piled inside. The meat had long since putrefied, the foul liquids dried up, leaving only the stubborn, sickening stench.

Sifting through the garbage, his fingers closed around something small and fresh. A brain.

The Holy One put up a last, desperate fight. A high-pitched shriek tore through the air. Lu Yan’s dizziness intensified, a heavy drowsiness threatening to pull him under.

Thick fog filled the cramped room, its density so high Lu Yan felt submerged in white milk.

His movements slowed, his steps becoming unsteady. A dull, buzzing ache started deep in his skull. Blood trickled from his ears, tracing wet paths down his cheeks.

But his grip never wavered.

He held the brain in his hand. It shrieked, “Impossible! Why aren’t you unconscious?!”

It felt like a heavy shot put, its surface a landscape of hardened ridges and crevices, like desiccated, compressed jerky—tough and unyielding.

The Holy One thrashed violently, but Lu Yan’s hook-like nails dug deep into its flesh, giving it no chance to break free.

Fighting against the overwhelming tide of exhaustion, Lu Yan swayed, raising the knife in his other hand.

“Friend, there seems to be a misunderstanding. You don’t understand me. On Changjia, my followers and I lived in happiness. The outside world is so dangerous. I gave them peace and stability. Even from a human perspective, you might not grasp my good intentions…”

As it spoke, a burst of alternating current erupted from its cerebral cortex.

Normally, that voltage could fry an elephant. Lu Yan only felt a faint numbness in his arm.

It defied logic. Awakener gifts specialized—either stacking physical fortitude or mental strength. True all-rounders were a myth. Even among pollutants, such a thing shouldn’t exist.

The Holy One had pegged Lu Yan as a psychic-class Awakener. It had miscalculated.

Hellfire plunged into its body. The effect was instant, like dropping Mentos into cola. White-gray brain matter exploded, splattering across the kitchen, dripping from the ceiling.

The Holy One’s true form spanned over ten meters. It had compressed itself like this for an easier escape.

Lu Yan couldn’t help but recall the little brain’s words: What a waste of food.

Cradled in Lu Yan’s palm, the Holy One let out a scream of pure agony. “I don’t understand! Let me die knowing! How did you find me? Why are you immune?!”

There was a time—no, just six months ago, in the botanical garden—a mere glance from it had made Lu Yan bleed from all seven orifices.

It couldn’t fathom how, in such a short time, Lu Yan had grown to this point.

—It was unheard of.

No precedent before, no one to replicate it after.

The searing property of Hellfire took hold. The brain in his hand began to sizzle, releasing the greasy scent of frying fat, its crimson surface turning pale pink.

A shame he hadn’t brought ginger, scallions, or garlic. And the underlying stench was still foul.

In silence, Lu Yan drove the knife in again and again. The brain became a porous, ruined thing, until only a withered husk remained.

Something hard was inside. Tearing the skin open, Lu Yan found a ring.

[A wedding band. She said yes that day.]

On the map, the red dot flashed rapidly before vanishing completely.

“Is it dead?”

[It is. But as long as humans exist and think, the Holy One—or pollutants of this nature—will never truly die.]

[But a second brain won’t appear for a long, long time.]

Lu Yan touched his stomach. He was ravenous. But this thing… it wasn’t appetizing. Too rank.

After a moment’s thought, he peeled off his glove. A seam split open across his palm.

He shoved the Holy One’s remains inside.

The system wept metaphorical tears. [Poor, stupid son. Already an idiot, and now he’s your trash compactor.]

With no seasonings, Lu Yan, with his years of cooking experience, expected the taste to be terrible. Instead, it was rich, fatty, dripping with savory oil. Just too rich to eat much. Cloying. Fortunately, the Holy One had thoughtfully compressed itself into a small lump.

Lu Yan emerged leaning against the wall. Not from fullness, but from the pounding in his head.

He hadn’t tested his current pollution index, but he guessed it wouldn’t be low.

[Congratulations, host, on completing the S-Class mission: Divine Kingdom Operations. Time elapsed: 9 days, 13 hours. Though dark clouds and white mist still shroud this land, the greatest scourge has been dealt with.]

[You are… a hero. A clichéd word, but from a human standpoint, nothing else fits.]

Exhaustion robbed him of even the will to speak. He now understood perfectly why sleep deprivation was a method of torture.

Dragging a chair over, he planned to collapse onto the table and sleep. Right now, even ten tails waving in his face wouldn’t stir a thought beyond sleep.

[I wouldn’t recommend sleeping just yet.]

“Be quiet,” Lu Yan muttered.

[Ning Huai’s pollution index has hit 99. You really think you can sleep now?]

Lu Yan’s eyes snapped open. He stood up, eyes bloodshot.

For the first time in his life, a curse ripped from his throat. “Fuck.”