Dude, my main account is Chaos God?

The law enforcement bureau's headquarters was less of an official institution and more of a dilapidated low-rise building located in a corner of the city.

The walls are covered with mottled marks from wind and rain erosion and cracks of varying depths.

Most of the window glass was also broken, and it was haphazardly nailed together with wooden boards and sheet metal.

[Good citizen who abides by laws and regulations]

[...accompany me on my journey]

Two faded banners, resembling tattered rags, hung crookedly above the main entrance, with half of the second half of each banner missing.

Groups of two or three law enforcement officers came and went.

Most of them have different appearances and bear obvious or subtle deformities.

Everyone's face bore the weariness and numbness of being squeezed by both life and faith.

"I really hate those rotten believers, they're disgusting, they poured a mouthful of shit on me..."

"You're lucky. Mine was a tormented believer who kept begging me to beat him."

"So you had your fun, didn't you?"

"Damn, what you're saying...that sounds really cool."

The headless man was sitting in his seat, which was piled high with messy files.

He habitually rested his head on the table, his eyes darting around before staring blankly at the flickering light bulb on the ceiling, a light bulb that seemed ready to die at any moment.

There is still electricity in this day and age, because some believers of certain gods can generate electricity through island pipes.

Truly powered by love.

The man pulled a sticky, paste-like substance with a strange medicinal smell from the drawer, scooped some out with his finger, and carefully applied it to the smooth cross-section of his neck.

The flesh and blood there retain a strange vitality thanks to divine grace.

However, it also needs regular maintenance, otherwise it will crack and rot.

"Old Wei, you're back? I heard that one of your all-knowing people died. That's quite a big deal."

A hoarse and heavy voice came from the side.

Old Wei turned his head and looked at his colleague, Old Zhao.

Old Zhao was also a believer in the God of Order, but the price he paid for obtaining the gifts was manifested in his body in a more direct and terrifying way.

His body was forcibly fitted with numerous instruments of torture—

Rusty nails pierced his shoulders, cold shackles locked his wrists and ankles, and even a small guillotine protruded abruptly from his back.

Every time he moved, the instruments of torture made a sickening clanging sound.

Old Wei blinked, examining the instruments of torture on Old Zhao's body that were even more deeply embedded in his flesh than yesterday, and asked:

"You've... advanced to the second tier?"

"Hehe." Old Zhao grinned.

But this simple movement seemed to aggravate the countless wounds and embedded objects all over his body, instantly twisting his smile into a painful expression.

"Yeah, it's finally done. I spent a lot of time mentally preparing myself. You know, pushing these things deeper into your body isn't a pleasant experience."

As he spoke, he endured the excruciating pain, puffed out his chest with a smug air, making the instruments of torture on his body clang even louder.

"But the result is good, look." He pointed to the grotesque metal on his body. "The God of Law likes me doing this, tsk tsk tsk, the moment I made up my mind to make these instruments of torture a part of my body, the blessing came instantly!"

Old Wei remained silent for a while before putting away the sticky ointment.

His head, which was resting on the table, suddenly let out a soft sigh, and he said:

"Today I...saw a God-forsaken one."

"A God-forsaken one?" The sound of the torture instruments on Old Zhao's body paused for a moment. He was somewhat surprised. "Aren't those things everywhere? There are even more in the outer city. What's so special about them?"

"No, it's different." Old Wei's tone became somewhat distant. "A very clean God-forsaken, very... clean, completely like a normal person, without distortion, without madness, just like... just like a person from the old era."

"Really?" Old Zhao was genuinely shocked. "Are there still such clean outcasts these days? Aren't they the most vulnerable to environmental contamination or being used as sacrifices by other believers? Not many of them survive, especially in the inner city."

"Hmm." Old Wei responded with a sound of agreement. He hesitated for a moment, seemingly considering his words, before continuing.

"That child, that child gave me the feeling that he was from the old era. I could see it in his eyes, that clarity, that... that he hadn't been tainted by this messed-up world."

After hearing this, Old Zhao scoffed, and the shackles on his body began to clang again.

"Hey Lao Wei, it's been fifty years since the Great Cataclysm. Apart from us old guys who survived from the old era, where are the young people from the old era? Nowadays, young people are born to choose their faith. Those who don't believe in God have long been eliminated."

He walked to Old Wei's table, his tone becoming somewhat low and serious:

"Seriously, Lao Wei, if you don't advance your level soon, you're going to die."

Old Zhao's gaze fell on that lonely head, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"Most of those who are forsaken by God do not survive, especially someone like you, whose head and body are separated, and it is only thanks to the grace of the God of Order that these two pieces of flesh are glued back together."

"Once your faith is not devout enough, the moment the God of Order withdraws his blessings, there will be no chance to save you."

Old Wei was speechless; he knew that what Old Zhao said was true.

He could feel the tension between his neck and head growing weaker and weaker over time.

After a long silence, he sighed again:

"A normal person... I really want to be a normal person again."

"Normal people?" Old Zhao scoffed again, his laughter filled with self-mockery and helplessness. "Where are there normal people in this world now? Normal people have all died out long ago! Only we believers of the gods can barely survive by selling our bodies, souls, and even our humanity."

He paused, his tone softening slightly:

"And to be honest, we Gods of Order are relatively normal."

"Look at those scoundrels outside, they're all oozing pus and covered in tumors, they're not even human anymore."

"And those who worship the god of pleasure can't even distinguish between men and women. Compared to them, we're lucky to only suffer some physical pain."

Moreover, compared to the followers of the god of suffering, this physical pain is nothing.

Old Wei fell silent again.

Old Zhao stood up, and the various instruments of torture on his body collided together, making a crisp and piercing sound.

The intense pain made him grimace, but his eyes remained calm, for the power bestowed by the God of Order was keeping his body from collapsing due to these modifications.

He reached out his shackled hand and patted Lao Wei on the shoulder.

"It's time to go home. You should also mentally prepare yourself and think about how to please the gods and advance to the second tier. In this day and age..."

"Living is more important than anything else."