World Occult Usage Guide

The torn pieces of "Picardiix" paper scattered with the sea breeze, their white reflections flashing. Jacob, who was sitting on the lifeboat, stood up and stared at Lin An with unblinking eyes.

There was no beep, no bloodstains, and no feedback.

All these phenomena demonstrate that Jacob did not die from the blessing given to Rabbana.

Lin An gazed into the Chamber of Commerce president's eyes. The brilliant starry sky collapsed, replaced by blooming golden roses. His lips moved, and Latin words flowed like a hymn:
I believe in God, the original Creator of the universe.
"The Lady with the Lamp".

The words flashed through Lin An's mind. The Chamber of Commerce president's abnormality was probably related to this medium that was most closely related to "Comers" and full of unknowns!
After all, he was a mysterious figure who had merged with the "Lady with the Lamp".

"Nice teeth, Mr. Chamber of Commerce." His mind racing, Lin An remained expressionless. "Next time, remember to buy a sturdier copy of 'Picardiix'."

"May God grant you happiness, sir."

Jacob ignored their instructions and began to sing to himself.

A 15th-century hymn resounded across the ocean, causing abnormal ripples on its azure surface, blurring the equatorial sunlight overhead, and gradually cooling the eternally scorching temperature.

"Kakaka..."

Fine ice crystal patterns spread across the water's surface, colorful tropical fish darted away, and dolphins leaped out of the water. This was the first time their species had ever lived in such cold waters, where they had thrived for tens of thousands of years.

A rose window, its length unknown, covered the sky, and light shone through the Virgin Mary's sky-blue robe onto the water. The tiny Savior smiled purely, extending a finger in a gesture of blessing.

"Crench!"

Jacob on the ship suddenly became "flat," he knelt down silently, and his form gradually became ethereal from three dimensions, "transforming" into a classic fourteenth-century altarpiece.

More phantom images appear as the scroll unfolds.

The Holy Spirit hangs high in the center, the lawn is lush and green, and the depicted crowd is divided into five groups: saints and bishops are in worship, and the angels of the choir are in their respective positions.

At the center is an unknowable white lamb, the embodiment of the Savior standing on four legs on a blood-red altar.

He still had the wound from the spear of Langnusky piercing his ribs, and dried blood kept dripping from it, lifting the veil of mystery.

All the figures seemed to be made of silk embroidered with gold thread, incorporating a luxurious Flemish style, compressed into a shallow, spacious area, where the rich and shimmering materials shone brightly against the increasingly dark sky.

The Altar Painting of Gente.

As for the Chamber of Commerce President Jacob, he had long since become the most inconspicuous member in the corner of the mural.

"Please remember our savior, who was born on Christmas Day."

The singing continued, but it was now sung by the angelic choir, their voices youthful, androgynous, and ethereal.

The vibrations of the musical notes emitted strange energy flows, like thin threads or elongated daggers, corroding Lin An's body, making him feel cold, fearful, and—ashamed.

As his blood temperature dropped, Lin An felt a strong urge to convert, wishing he could rush to the altar painting and join the ranks of the saints in worship.

Hymns and familiar rose clouds spread out from the altarpiece, dominating the sky above Abishang. Residents looked up and saw that the blue sky, white clouds, and scorching sun of the past had been replaced by a magnificent spectacle, with the distant church stained glass windows hanging high.

"Oh, God's blessing, bringing comfort and joy."

The residents were filled with ecstatic songs, while the organ music and the chill made them feel confused and vulnerable. Countless thoughts of guilt, which kept them tossing and turning in the middle of the night, surfaced in their minds.

Youthful bravado, uncontrolled arguments, irreparable mistakes...

Just when they were in great pain, a huge cross replaced the cold rose window, like the outstretched arm of God, radiating the light of forgiveness and benevolence.

The choir's singing grew faster and faster, and the figures in the altarpiece stepped out of the two-dimensional image, gently patting Lin An on the shoulder.

"Enter the Lord's embrace, and your sins will be forgiven."

“You don’t need your biological father; you have always had the love of your soul father—that’s the only love you need.”

"May your soul, together with the souls of all believers, enter into happiness and peace, and find rest and tranquility in the glory of the Lord. May this be so."

A white-robed angel dipped his index finger in holy water, touched Lin An's forehead, and traced his finger downwards, slowly approaching his lips.

"Blood and flesh in the name of God."

"Without a doubt, there are some things I need to repent for."

Lin An opened her mouth and bit his finger.

"For example, there's one thing right now—the result wasn't given to you in time."

"Tear!"

Palm leaves ripped through the angel's robe, and through the triangular gaps between the quiet foliage, a spiral-patterned shield emerged.

A burning, stinging pain crept up the calves of each saint, as if they were wading through scalding water, and they instinctively moved away from Lin An in the center, surrounded by four shields.

Four ancient faces flashed across the shield one after another, like a film reel of past portraits, transforming into the landscape in Lin An's memory.

Benduka—a bird that flies swiftly through the rainforest, its narrow shadow transforming into a boat as it sails along the flowing Kuba River and through the shadows cast by the date palm groves. It flies to the campfire and joins the tribe in singing, dancing, and rituals.

Wild cats, like liquid shadows, entered Mbanbuka. The old fisherman placed buckets of bait around the area, as if hosting a feast; the women selling goods wrapped their heads in brightly colored cloths and braided each other's hair, exuding a vibrant life force.

Owls summon the spirits of the dead; mothers collapse onto the mounds of earth covering their children, crawling on their hands and knees as if trying to devour all the dust from the graves; the flames of war burn and then die out; tanks roll on the dirt roads, bringing the message of cessation.

Ultimately, it was a city of steel and concrete, its walls covered with indelible political graffiti, a silent cry like flowing lava, until green data rose over the Kinsasha Parliament building, the statues shattered, the graffiti disappeared, and people looked forward to the arrival of peace.

【Centricity】, a term given to Lin An by the "Guardian Deity" divine status.

He listened intently, and the phantoms in the shield sang, but they were too faint to break the spell the angelic choir had cast upon Apichatpong.

The cross dominates the sky, an eternal eclipse that lingers in the air.

He turned to the altarpieces depicting angels and saints, the latter whispering amongst themselves, their faces painted like oil paintings.

Jacob's integration level was higher than Lin An's; the centripetal force could not counteract his words, but could only "resolve" part of the effect.

Finally, an angel appeared.

"God bless him! It's a pity he was born too late. A brave and enterprising man like him would have made a name for himself in ancient times! He could have been a governor of an overseas territory, or some other great figure, like Diogo Kahn."

Diogo Kahn, the first Westerner to discover the Cousa River, erected a pillar at its mouth inscribed with the royal coat of arms and the inscription: "In the 6681st year of the birth of mankind and the 1482nd year of the birth of the Savior, King João II of Portugal found this land."

This stone pillar then became an important market for the slave trade, with more than 15000 people being sent to the New World every year.

Lin An frowned, not only because he felt that no one from the Southern Continent wanted to hear this name, but also because the altar painting was shaking and misaligning.

More phantom figures joined the chorus, their hands clasped together.

"But he always found a way! His factories brought safe and stable jobs to the local people, froze the king's wealth, and donated it to more benevolent, kind, and devout causes. The miracles he created even surpassed those of Lord da Silva." It's as if he's praising the "great achievements" of the Red Poppy Merchant Guild.

Lin An understood the gist of the lyrics.

These faceless figures represent Jacob's followers, who harbor lofty imperial dreams and believe they are still the rule-makers, yet are also compelled by the morality of civilized people to continue exploiting the former colonies through peaceful, rational, and legal means.

So they used "God's will" as the perfect excuse for a thousand-year-long campaign to Jerusalem.

Jacob's divinity is based on this belief, and he is the epitome of the arrogance, xenophobia, and vengeful aspects of the omnipotent god that later generations viewed.

At the same time, Lin An discovered that when Jacob recited the words, he deviated from the state of a normal person and entered a state of uncontrollable, detached, and almost devoid of individual emotional fluctuations.

At this moment, he was overwhelmed by the collective faith, and his personal desires vanished completely.

As Lin An pondered, the angel pulled the melody back to the original hymn.

"God-given blessings bring comfort and joy."

As the syllable fell, a dense crowd surrounded Lin An, forming a circle. The sound waves propagated inward, making it unbearable.

"Click-click-click, click-click-click..."

The four shields creaked under the strain.

The double image flickered violently, and Lin An blinked hard. In an instant, the sacred scene transformed.

A massive ship, like Noah's Ark, sailed from the vast sea. The ship had pure white wings that shone like daggers.

The men disembarked and brought in slaves tied together with ropes, stuffing them into the low cabin.

The cabin reeked of a stench—the smell of fear, anger, diarrhea, and death; the smell of fever, madness, and hatred.

The deck rocked violently as the ship sailed, sometimes heavy rain poured down on the slaves' faces through the vents, and sometimes the scorching sun caused their features to crack from dryness.

They soon developed a persistent high fever, and the sailors pried open their mouths and forced them to drink lime juice.

However, the situation worsened, and the sailors had no choice but to throw the slaves into the sea from the side of the ship. The slightly warm Atlantic waves caused them to slip out of their shackles, suffocate in the water, and sink to the bottom of the sea.

"Thump, thump, thump—"

The sailors sang ship songs, their movements clean and efficient.

Until the last slave became food for the Atlantic fish, the sailors, with nothing to do, fell into a deathly silence. Then, they all turned to Lin An and opened their mouths, which were full of yellow teeth.

"Oh, God's blessing, bringing comfort and joy!"

"Stop singing that damn Christmas carol!" Lin An couldn't take it anymore. "Besides, the Savior was born in the summer!"

With his shout, the triangular trade broke apart, and rose clouds, hymns, and choirs appeared.

But he finally understood the effects of the gods' illusions.

The "Guardian Deity" is a deity closely linked to history, civilization, and ethnicity. As the degree of integration increases, Lin'an will become the symbol of the Bantu people from ancient times to the present, and the soul of the land.

Everything about Bantu has shaped his divinity, and he will begin to reshape everything about Bantu from scratch.

Jacob's words depict a flawless paradise, but to the patron deity of Bantu, it represents the suffering and war of the past five hundred years.

Temporarily having no time to consider its profound significance, Lin An regained his clarity. The four shields stubbornly resisted the erosion of the hymn, and the small figure raised a bow and arrow and a gun, firing them in a crackling sound, disrupting the rhythm of the singing.

They will never back down and will never allow ships to enter the Kuba River again.

The black and white ripples collided, causing the cross in the sky to tremble violently and teeter on the verge of collapse.

With a sigh, the choir stopped singing.

Jacob opened his mouth, and the overlapping sounds of men, women, young and old mingled together in his voice.

"A failed 'missionary' attempt."

Missionaries...missionaries?

This is probably Jacob's type of deity. Lin An thought to himself as he said, "How many times have you failed today, Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce?"

Jacob lost to Lin An in the battle of mysticism. In order to avoid death, he recited the words of "Lady with the Lamp" in an attempt to suppress the demons through faith, but he was fatally thwarted.

“How humorous, Ranger.” Jacob smiled faintly. “If I hadn’t used half of my divine power to save my Chamber of Commerce’s reputation, which was on the verge of collapse because of a certain reporter, you would be the one in a sorry state.”

It seems that the term "Lady with the Lamp" can be active simultaneously, but their combined total cannot exceed the total amount of fusion.

Based on this, the degree of integration of the Chamber of Commerce president is approximately 10%.

“A warrior cannot bear the humiliation, so he kills his enemy; a merchant makes the more cost-effective choice to save his life and make a quick getaway,” Jacob continued.

"I believe in your cunning, Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce."

“Don’t be quick to mock.” Jacob spread his arms. “But a devout believer died for God—at the beginning of the century, martyrdom was the greatest honor in the world.”

After saying this, the choir snapped their scriptures shut, revealed eerie smiles, and stepped back into the altar painting.

"May God grant you happiness, sir!"

"Let everything be filled with hope, and let nothing frighten you."

"Please remember that the Savior was born on Christmas Day to save us all from the power of Satan."

In just a few seconds, all the figures transformed back into medieval oil paintings, except for Jacob, who remained in color while kneeling.

As temperatures rise, the crosses and rose windows in the sky fade, and the sunny weather of Ivory Coast returns to normal.

The hymns became increasingly monotonous, with only Jacob remaining.

"Oh, God's blessing, bringing comfort and joy."

As the final note faded, the ritual of "Blessing Labana" returned to its original purpose.

Jacob calmly adjusted his posture, putting his hands and feet together, and took the initiative to meet the bronze nail.

"Pfft!"

They left bleeding holes in his palms and soles. (End of Chapter)