World Occult Usage Guide

Lin Anzheng was staring into the mirror with "God's One Eye," which reflected the entire view of a private meeting room on the middle floor of the press conference building.

This mirror is not the dangerous "Burning Mirror," but just an ordinary full-length mirror placed in the center of a small room of about 10 square meters. In front of it, tables and chairs are lined up, waiting for guests to sit down.

The room was dark, and faint sunlight filtered through the blinds, outlining blurry shapes.

The equator has a very regular day-night cycle. It wasn't even 6 p.m. yet, and the sun was already high in the sky. Lin Xile on the other side dared not relax, fearing that the [Burning Mirror] would go berserk again if it came into contact with sunlight.

However, by transforming the nature of metal, she reduced her weight, making it easier for the sailors on the ship to retrieve her from the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

The ships and the Red Poppy Merchant Guild's vessels faced each other from a distance, neither daring to make any rash moves.

After a two-hour standoff, the previously calm and cautious members of the Chamber of Commerce suddenly raised the white flag, claiming that they were willing to accept defeat and leave themselves to the fate of the World Tree, only hoping that the forest rangers would spare their lives.

Lin An found it strange that although the Voodoo Priest and the Merchant Guild Master were dead and the Burning Mirror was captured, it did not mean that the large Flanders family had no other mystics.

According to Lin Xile's observation, the ship carried at least five mysterious individuals.

On the other hand, although Alchemist Life and Burning Mirror are both high-rated Mystics, they are both immobilized and can only use their remaining power to intimidate the other side. In reality, they have almost no strength left to fight.

Apart from that, there was no other mysterious person on the ship.

The Maori were merely following David's orders to assist the World Tree; if anything were to happen, he would probably just jump into the sea and run away.

During the initial stalemate, the Chamber of Commerce kept releasing smokescreens to test the strength of the World Tree ship. When they discovered that the World Tree was all bark and no bite, they were clearly getting restless.

For a few minutes, both sides even set up their ship cannons, preparing to fire at each other and formally declare war.

However, at some point, the Red Poppy Merchant Guild, like a player whose game time had run out, surrendered in despair.

Lin An had no choice but to believe he had won when all the ordinary people were disarmed and brought under control, and when each of the mystics was handcuffed with golden handcuffs made from the Philosopher's Stone.

The Red Poppy Merchants Association offered little resistance and surrendered easily.

It was easier than I thought...

If the Chamber of Commerce does not contact Lin An afterwards to discuss compensation terms and release these prisoners, they will be completely at his mercy.

Normally, Lin An would train them and then absorb them all into the World Tree, which was short of manpower.

But ever since the system became sluggish and unresponsive, he decided to carefully review and select new members for his organization.

At this moment, he was contacting Maye of Kinsasha, asking her to plan the second expansion of World Tree talent recruitment, while simultaneously manipulating Lin Xile to carefully place the [Burning Mirror].

This delirious and deadly individual will be controlled by the World Tree. After observation and recording by the research department, it will become the first "mysterious item" in the World Tree system that can be exchanged for uses with Ash Leaves.

Similar to the exchange warehouse of the St. Anilov Foundation.

If the mirror miraculously regains its senses during the observation period and becomes a calm, mysterious person, Lin An has other plans.

But it has lost all rationality; it's a dangerous and insane killing machine. Lin An is powerless to do anything about it, and he doesn't want to endanger his companions for the sake of a complete stranger.

"Crench."

The wooden door screeched loudly, interrupting Lin An's multitasking.

In the mirror's reflection, a hand wearing five rings reached into the dark room, fumbling for the light switch. After four or five seconds, unable to find anything, it impatiently walked in.

"Dear forest ranger, I heard you're here."

A heavily accented English voice rang out, and a burly man with a curly beard and bare chest walked in. His skin was covered in black and dark blue tattoos, making him look like an intricately patterned sweater.

Several men in black filed in, quickly filling the already small conference room.

The room was empty. The group of imposing men couldn't help but look at each other in bewilderment. The burly man at the head of the group scratched his double-hamburger-like chin and muttered to himself in confusion.

"Was that girl at the front desk lying to me? A forest ranger? A forest ranger?"

As Lin An replied to the message, a thought flashed through his mind, and everyone saw a line of green data code suddenly appear floating in the center of the empty, dark room.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pan Gilgud (Polish: sir).”

…………

"Buzzing..."

A cacophony of piano keys, like the buzzing of bees, filled the air, playing "Flight of the Bumblebee." Jacob opened his eyes to the Atlantic Ocean, where the crimson sun seemed to never set, its warm rays drying his body and bringing a comforting warmth.

"Welcome back, Alfonso III."

The shadow blocked the sun, and the sound rang out in the room that should have been silent.

"Damn it, what are you doing here? I clearly—" Jacob was about to sit up when he was shocked to realize that his limbs had been cut off, leaving only his torso. "What the hell have you done!?"

"Limbs are great parts—as are other parts, but unfortunately I can only choose between the heart and the brain, unless you grow facial features on your belly like Xingtian."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Xingtian is a prehistoric myth my father told me. Long ago, there was a war god whose head was chopped off by his enemies." The man continued without hesitation, "He was reborn with his nipples as eyes and his navel as a mouth. Pretty creative, right?"

"This is insane!" Jacob cursed. "I'm giving you one last chance. Let me go! Otherwise, even if it means being expelled, I'll report your misconduct to Metalont!"

"Buzz buzz buzz! Buzz buzz buzz!"

The sound of "Flight of the Bumblebee" grew louder and louder, and the shadows on Jacob's head deepened.

He saw a piano move above his head, the heavy black triangle held up by a few loose ropes, teetering on the verge of collapse.

It plays automatically without a pianist.

"Ah, Saint Helena! The place where Emperor Napoleon I was exiled, not far from the Ivory Coast, which will allow me to get there before you wake up."

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Jacob laboriously turned his head and saw the man move eight arthropod legs, snapping his fingers as he walked, a spark leaping and flashing.

"The Ranger's guess is 80% correct. Your resurrection count depends on how many language versions of Picardix are available. [Snake Waist] tells me that people don't want to be your enemy because you're good at backstabbing and have unlimited lives."

"It's true. In the eyes of those who consider themselves insightful, once you die a violent death, you will reappear in the Kingdom of Flanders after 2 hours. Thus, [Snake Waist] concludes: you need 2 hours to resurrect; your resurrection point is Flanders."

"But this is too obvious, as if you deliberately want others to think so. Aren't you afraid that someone will burn everything you've built in the Kingdom of Flanders?"

“I am the master of the Red Poppy Merchant Guild, a member of the Black Capital, and one of the Seven Deadly Sins,” Jacob said through gritted teeth, implying that no one dared to be so presumptuous.

"You are also a 'prophet,' a cunning businessman, a meticulous hypocrite, and have nothing to do with being bold and reckless. Even your arrogance and confidence are like the powder of a poisonous butterfly, shiny and bright, but you can actually rub them clean with your fingers."

The man clenched his fingers, sparks flew up, a slight explosion rang out, and a knot in the hemp rope was ignited.

"So I spent some time investigating some clues that were hidden from the public—more than thirty years ago, you bought control of this island from the Stonemasons' Guild."

"Aside from being slightly more lively more than two hundred years ago due to the arrival of Emperor Napoleon, what's so special about this place with only a little over five thousand permanent residents? Heh! The most desolate and isolated island in history, an excellent secret base."

"For you, the most important thing is the original Arabic text of the Piccatrix, which is equivalent to your source. Without it, any translated text would cease to exist."

Jacob bit his lip so hard it bled, and squeezed out each word through his teeth.

"You betrayed Black Capital! No wonder you couldn't arrive in time to deliver the fatal blow to the Forest Ranger during the battle—your threat to make me work for you by threatening to let me steal some of the goods from the Theia Auction House was just a pretext!"

"Here is my addition to the Ranger. Each time you die, you will regain consciousness through the Arabic original of the Picardiox, then rest briefly on the remote island of Saint Helena before choosing a translated version to be resurrected."

The two chatted about nonsensical things, neither intending to agree with the other's statement.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh, buzz buzz buzz—"

Only the electronic keyboard above was still playing "Flight of the Bumblebee." Unlike human fingers that tire easily, it didn't need to rest or pause. The rhythm got faster and faster, almost making it hard to breathe.

"Traitor! You indirectly killed Qisekedi Kumasi, you stood by and let the Ranger kill me—ah, you even misled me into thinking the Ranger was connected to [Brahma]!"

In Jacob's narrowed pupils, a thin tongue of fire traveled up the rope and quickly reached the fulcrum where the piano was suspended.

"Could it be that you want to protect the [Forest Rangers]? But why?!"

Before the roar had even faded, the rope above snapped, and the unsupported piano plummeted straight down, crashing into the immobile Jacob and slamming down all the keys.

"when--"

The echoing tone was like the last beat of a heart.

The instigator put his hands behind his back, and sparks and bees danced incessantly in his dark pupils, crackling like fireworks on New Year's Eve.

"Don't be so clever, Jacob van Hofwegen, the Red Poppy Merchant Guild Master," he said expressionlessly. "I'm simply fulfilling the duties of a hunter—knowing his prey." (End of Chapter)