Having traversed countless realms, can you possibly be as clever as me?

In order to save his world, the scientist used this machine to capture an angel who had descended to save that world, placed it inside, and used endless suffering to squeeze the angel's miracles to save its planet.

In short, it's pretty much a story of humans reaping what they sow.

This machine serves this purpose: by relentlessly exploiting pain, it ultimately shapes that pain into a tangible product, and then uses that product to achieve the same effect as a miracle.

It sounds similar to the Yakin machine he has, but the difference is that the hellish essence and Yakin energy squeezed out by the Yakin machine are energy products with wonderful functions, while what the Angel Engine squeezes out is a true miracle.

But this miracle comes at a price. A miracle born of suffering is indeed a miracle, a sublime divine act like the sacrifice of a saint. But a miracle entirely based on the wishes of others inevitably brings deeper suffering.

It can only bring painful miracles.

Alternatively, you could use this painful miracle to collectively transform the souls within into an artificial angel in extreme agony.

But it was not a real angel; it was merely a product of extreme human suffering mixed with the soul, formed through a miracle that was the complete opposite of an angel—or rather, it was an angel 'created' by Beelzebub.

It's truly something that sounds incredibly blasphemous.

But in Tsuruga's view, this thing was perfect for torturing such arrogant and conceited sinners.

He once said that he would pack up the sinners and their incriminating evidence and send them to heaven!

Hehe, you can't go back on your word!

So Tsuruga placed the machine on the ruins of the former Golgotha ​​Mountain and then turned it on. The souls of the sinners of the Type-Moon universe had been condensed within it and no longer had a self.

Countless intertwined souls are completely entangled, with only endless pain and torment continuing in the indistinguishable wails, without beginning or end, without each other, only the resonating, endless torment!

Great, very energetic!

Tsurugi was satisfied with the result, and then poured all the Jewish souls into it!

If he weren't in a rush, he might have sent them to his cyber hell to slowly torture and squeeze their souls and magic before sending them in, but there was no other way, given the tight schedule and heavy workload.

With the infusion of the souls of ten million people, the enormous engine, resembling a torture device, instantly expanded nearly a hundredfold and began to operate.

At the center of the massive steel machine that almost completely covered the entire hills of Golgotha ​​stood a cross, a symbol of death and forgiveness, a place of curses and malice against this entire traitorous race!

Hehe, because after purifying these beasts, he'll pack up their sins and evidence and send them to the old man in Heaven as a greeting gift!

His brother probably wouldn't like the gift, but the old man in the picture might.

After finishing all that, Tsurugi clapped his hands, looked at the screen, and then at the countless people behind him.

"What's wrong? You all seem scared? Don't be afraid, because I'm a kind and understanding person." Tsurugi looked at them, spread her hands, and smiled.

“I will bring you equal wealth, and I can also send you to a carefree paradise. But I will not force you, only I will never forgive sinners.”

"You, you lot, yes, I'm talking about you Protestants and Baal worshippers, you scum who went to that damned island!"

Dongjiang pointed behind the screen, and also at the terrified Americans and Europeans, as if sensing their concentrated fear, and laughed wildly.

"Next up are you guys, hehehe, I happen to have a game I haven't played yet, I'll let you guys have a good experience!"

Tsurugi was too lazy to pretend to be holy anymore; now that he was in the mood, he just wanted to have fun!

Soon, Dongjiang's figure appeared in many places.

Washington, New York, London, Paris

Wherever he went, he would lightly grab something and leave immediately, as casually as picking up a handful of chess pieces from a chessboard.

No one knew what he had done until Tsurugi arrived on the island and scattered points of light from his hand. Each point of light, upon landing, transformed into a person.

The occupants of the White House, the generals of the Pentagon, the tycoons of Wall Street, the moguls of Silicon Valley, the media oligarchs, the heirs of arms dealers, the controllers of energy empires—and their wives, children, grandchildren, three generations. Four generations. Everyone who has ever set foot on this island, everyone who has profited from its evils, is here.

Hundreds of thousands of people awoke from a momentary coma, and when they opened their eyes, they found themselves standing in a familiar place.

Sea breeze, palm trees, white sandy beach, azure water.

Those who knew it intimately, those who understood it instantly, and those who realized it immediately—that was where it was. But the thought of the global livestream of a nation's annihilation that had just filled them with terror sent countless faces turning deathly pale!

The president's orange-colored face turned deathly pale in the moonlight. The financial tycoons' legs trembled, and the Hollywood producer screamed and hid behind his wife, who in turn retreated.

No one asked where they were, because they all knew where they were.

They looked up at the figure in the light in the sky, and fear rose from the bottom of everyone's heart.

It wasn't fear of unfamiliar land, but fear of the eyes that were watching them, fear of what they had buried here, now sprouting from the earth.

It is also a fear of the tragic future that one can already foresee.

Dongjiang hovered above the island, not too high, just high enough for everyone to see his face clearly.

“You’ve been here before. Once, twice, many times,” Tsurugi said slowly.

Some people in the crowd began to tremble.

“I know what you’ve done here.”

The president, nicknamed "Milk Dragon," staggered forward a few steps, looked up at the thrush in the sky, and shouted in a hoarse, ingratiating voice:

"What do you want? We Americans will satisfy all your needs, great Saint Mammon!"

His voice was shrill and filled with fear.

350

—There was only fear, no repentance. Because he knew that repentance would be of no use whatsoever.

"We can give you anything in this world—wealth, power, status, an entire country—if you just spare us—"

"Shh." Tsurugi interrupted his monologue, pointing to a spot not far away and laughing.

"Since you are already here, you should understand that you are beyond redemption. In this sinful place, you can only accept the suffering brewed by your sins."

A group of children, large and small, appeared in the direction he pointed, standing silently at the edge of the beach, watching them. Someone recognized one of the children; a wealthy woman, her face ashen, collapsed to the ground screaming.

The girl was eight years old when she was brought up, and she still looks eight years old now, forever eight years old.

A shattered body, a torn and broken shell, a sight so horrifying that it wouldn't even appear in a horror movie.

One by one, these violated, mutilated, and devoured children crawled out and stared straight at the adults.

That empty gaze was more terrifying than any threat; fear instantly shattered the minds of these already fragile people!

They screamed and tried to escape, and as they ran wildly across the beach, things quickly changed!

The president's body began to contort. Coarse, stiff hair grew on his skin, his back bent, his fingers turned into claws, and his mouth protruded forward, transforming him into an old, ugly dog.

He knelt on the ground, trying to make a human voice, but could only let out hoarse howls that no one could understand.

“I was president—I have achievements—I've done so much for the country—you can't treat me like this—”

The financial tycoon transformed into a wild boar. He was on all fours, trembling, excrement and urine flowing freely. He gazed up at the thrush in the sky with human eyes, and shouted in a human voice:

“I didn’t do anything—someone else did it—I only came a few times—I didn’t touch the children—I just—I just—”

The Hollywood producer turned into a vulture. He struggled to fly away, but couldn't take off; he could only flutter on the sand, emitting sharp cries.

"I have money—I'll give you money—as much as you want—I can even make movies for you—movies about you—making you a god known throughout the world—"

The arms dealer's heir had turned into a hyena. He let out a mournful howl that sounded like laughter.

"This isn't fair—this isn't fair—you can't treat me like this—I just inherited the family business—those things were done by my father—not me—not me—"

The ruler of that energy empire had turned into a rat. He frantically burrowed into the sand, making tiny, shrill noises as he did so.

"Don't find me—you can't see me—I didn't do anything—I just came to the party—I don't know—I really don't know—"

One by one, hundreds of thousands of people, all turned into beasts, all kinds of ugly, ferocious, and disgusting beasts.

But their eyes are still human eyes, their consciousness is still human consciousness; they know they are human, they know what they have become, and they know why they have become this way.

Tsurugi hovered in the air, quietly watching all this, a happy smile appearing on her face, then she opened her arms—

Snapped!

In the instant their hands clasped together, the children were given the bodies and weapons of hunters by Tsurugi. Their lifeless eyes quickly came to life, replaced by intense excitement and hunger!

"Are you ready, kids!" Tsugumi cheered, raising her hand.

"Ready, Captain!" the children cheered happily.

"I can't hear you!"

"Ready, Captain!!!"

"Oh~~~~~~!" Tsurugi waved her arms happily, pointing at the running animals, and looked at them with a joyful expression.

"Then go hunting, children! Catch these animals, castrate their organs, tear their limbs, cut off their heads, skin them, rip out their entrails, cover them with salt, and roast them over a fire!"

"Turn them into your prey, your food, and enjoy them to your heart's content!!!"

Dongjiang cheered, and the hungry children, frolicking with joy, grabbed their weapons and charged out.

Bow and arrow, stones, machete, chainsaw, pistol

The children, armed with all sorts of hunting tools, began their hunt, targeting the beasts that the great figures had transformed into.

They will be captured in terror, torn apart, their bodies severed in agony, their skin peeled off, their internal organs dug out, and their flesh cut off.

Then, their flesh and blood are skewered and grilled one by one, finally sprinkled with spices, and then put into their mouths to chew and swallow.

Just as they once did for the children on this island.

However, the tolerant Uncle Tsurugi gave them even better treatment.

They will experience all the pain and the process, from hunting to cooking, and then being eaten and digested into a pile of excrement.

This extreme pain permeates every single cell.

Enjoy it!

On the road to godhood, there must be killing, killing, killing! :247 [Daily End] Annihilate evil and rule the world

He never imagined he would understand the meaning of the word "prey" in this way.

Not when chasing a captive deer on a golf course, not when aiming a shotgun at an elephant on the African savanna, not when watching those supposedly "extremely challenging" wild beasts released into private game fields.

It is now, when he has transformed into a wild boar, running wildly on all fours across the scorching sand.

His name is Richard Hunter III, and this is his first real run.

It wasn't a slow jog on a treadmill with a pre-set speed, nor was it a morning run with a personal trainer. It was the first time I had to run because I was being chased by someone.

His heart pounded in his chest, each breath like swallowing a handful of shards of glass. His four legs—once two, now four, ugly, short, bristly pig legs—dug frantically in the sand, but the sand was too soft, and he sank in with every step, and with each sinking, the children were a little closer to him.

Those children, those children he brought here.