My mom is waiting for treatment, and you're summoning me to be a hero?

The largest island in the middle layer of the divine realm, a land of indulgence.

This island, which Gao Yang used to imprison his lust, was still a place of drunken revelry and decadence.

"Why are you all here too?"

Yin Xue, holding Mianmian's hand, asked the Judgement and the God of War.

The God of War shrugged: "I've finally come back, of course I need to relax."

But the judge's grey eyes never relaxed. Her gaze swept over the brightly lit taverns on the street, the casinos with the sound of dice clattering, and the drunkards staggering out of the casinos. Her brows furrowed more and more tightly.

She had never been here before, and she believed that everything here was beyond the reach of judgment.

The God of War was quite at ease, carrying his Soul Axe and looking around. When he saw a tavern with a warhammer pattern engraved on its sign, his eyes lit up.

"This is the place! It's where I got that old bastard, the God of Wrath, drunk out of the tavern back in the day. His hammer's still hanging on the wall as decoration!"

The judge sighed. "I'm going to see an old friend. Call me if you need anything."

Yin Xue stood still and looked back down, in the direction where Lin Mo was.

Lin Mo is still meditating on that floating island, and it's unknown how far he's progressing in his enlightenment.

But then she thought again, Lin Mo dared to fight Gao Yang head-on, so comprehending the Law of Slaughter shouldn't cause any problems.

So she pouted and, holding Mianmian's hand, pushed open the casino door.

……

A floating island below.

Lin Mo sat cross-legged on the spot, the black sword resting on his knees.

The restrictions set up by the Old Man of Time shrouded the entire floating island in a tranquil, isolated atmosphere, where even the wind couldn't get in, but the creatures on the island were an exception.

A bee flew in from the flowers at the edge of the forbidden area.

It flew around Lin Mo once, then landed half an inch above his shoulder.

However, before it could even come to a stop, a thin layer of frost spread from the tips of its wings, instantly freezing it into a crystal-clear ice crystal.

The ice crystals, suspended in mid-air, were gently supported by a wisp of pale blue soul energy and placed back into the flowerbed.

A ghostly light flowed across the black sword, and a soul slowly emerged from its blade.

Zhou Yue stood beside Lin Mo, glanced down at him, and a faint, wistful smile appeared on his face.

He said nothing, but simply put his hands behind his back, turned around, faced the outside of the barrier, and began to protect Lin Mo.

……

At this moment, deep within Lin Mo's consciousness.

Lin Mo stood in a void composed of pure darkness, a black sword in his hand, and beneath his feet were fragments of laws left after countless black shadows shattered.

He's been killing people here for a month.

It's not a month in the outside world, but a month in this space of consciousness.

There is no alternation of day and night, no sun, moon, or stars, only shadows.

From ordinary people to emperors, from first-class citizens to gods, from unarmed commoners to fully armed demigods.

Each shadowy figure is a living being, and each being has been erased by the laws of slaughter on some timeline.

He split one open, and then ten more came.

Split ten open, and then a hundred more come.

They didn't speak, they didn't scream, they just looked at him with their empty eyes as he killed them, then turned into black smoke and dissipated, only to re-coalesce from the darkness further away.

At first, he thought this was a test, and that he could pass it by killing all the shadowy figures.

But they hadn't finished killing them even after a month.

He then thought it was a war of attrition, and that if he persisted until the end, he would successfully comprehend the Law of Slaughter.

But no matter how many he killed, the number of shadowy figures never decreased.

"How exactly can one comprehend the laws of killing?"

Subconsciously, Lin Mo frowned, and his black sword swept across, cleaving a row of black figures in two.

He looked up at the dark sky where there was nothing, his voice hoarse as if he had worn out his throat, but every word carried the fatigue and confusion accumulated from a month of continuous killing.

"Do you want me to kill all of these people?"

There was no answer from the sky.

After a long while, the figure of the God of Slaughter slowly materialized from the depths of darkness.

It was still that pure black energy, and the two unchanging dark red lights in the eye sockets.

He didn't speak, but just quietly looked at Lin Mo, and then casually waved his hand.

Then, swarms of dark figures emerged from the darkness, silently, slowly, and relentlessly approaching him.

Lin Mo gripped the black sword tightly, his knuckles turning white, then strode forward again towards the endless black tide.

However, when Lin Mo saw the figures emerging from the darkness, his hand holding the sword froze.

They were wearing modern clothes.

My aunt was wearing that dark red wool coat that she only took out during holidays; the worn-out buttons on the cuffs gleamed in the darkness.

My second uncle still wears the same faded plaid shirt, and there's always one button missing from the collar.

My cousin was clutching her old phone, which she had used for years and couldn't bear to replace. A faded cartoon sticker was stuck on the phone case.

They emerged from the shadows, surrounded Lin Mo, and began chattering away, repeating the same things he had heard countless times.

"Xiao Mo, you must be exhausted."

"Your mother is getting better soon. The doctor said she can be discharged after a few more days of observation. Let's go out for a nice meal to celebrate."

"Where have you been these past few days? People are saying you ran off with the surgery money, and they're saying really nasty things. But don't worry, your aunt believes you're not that kind of person."

"Our Xiao Mo has always been responsible since he was little, how could he do such a thing?"

……

Hearing these sounds, Lin Mo gripped the black sword tightly, his knuckles cracking.

Just then, the crowd suddenly fell silent.

The relatives automatically stepped aside to make way for each other.

At the end of the passage, two figures slowly emerged.

Lin Feng walked on the left, still wearing the plaid apron he had used for almost ten years, with a few celery leaves still stuck to it.

His hair was much whiter than Lin Mo remembered, but his steps were still steady. His rough hands rubbed against his apron several times, as if he didn't know where to put them.

Zhou Xiaomei walked on the right, wearing a half-knitted dark gray sweater, the sleeves not yet finished, and the knitting needles still stuck in the yarn.

Her complexion was rosier than it had been in the light screen last time, but the wrinkles around her eyes seemed to have deepened.

Their gazes passed through the crowd and landed on Lin Mo's face. Then Zhou Xiaomei spoke, her voice very soft, with a nasal tone that she had barely suppressed after crying, but every word was so clear that it seemed to be engraved into Lin Mo's bones.

"Xiao Mo, you're finally home."

Upon seeing these two figures, Lin Mo's hands began to tremble.

It wasn't hesitation, it was anger.

He knew it was all fake.

The God of Slaughter dug out the images, voices, tones, and habitual actions of these people from the depths of his memory and wove them into a realistic illusion.

It was used to test his killing principles, to force him to confront the only being he could not kill.

He hates it most when people use his family as weapons.

"Son of a bitch!"