My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

Wang Defa, the head of the Wang family, was in his early fifties, fair-skinned and plump, and was the manager of the largest money exchange in the city.

He was twirling two walnuts in his hands. The walnuts were polished until they were shiny and made a slight clinking sound.

Li Mao, the head of the Li family, was in his forties. He had a long beard and ran a silk business. He usually had a refined and scholarly appearance.

He stood beside the altar, stroking his beard, lost in thought.

Zhao Sihai, the head of the Zhao family, was in his fifties, burly and strong, with a face full of menacing features. He ran a grain business.

He was the most impatient of the four, and was the first to greet Chen Wanghai when he entered.

"My lord, you've finally arrived."

Chen Wanghai waved his hand, walked to the altar, and looked down at the glowing symbol.

Zhou Huai-ren leaned closer and asked in a low voice, "Sir, has that prefectural magistrate... agreed?"

Chen Wanghai shook his head.

"No. He said he wasn't feeling well and couldn't come tonight."

Zhou Huai-ren frowned: "Isn't this just an excuse?"

"That's just an excuse," Chen Wanghai said calmly, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

"When has Lü Wenyuan ever been unwell in all these years of serving as an official in Jingyang Prefecture? He just realized this banquet wasn't a good one and didn't dare to come."

Wang Defa stopped eating the walnuts in his hand: "Then what do we do? He knows too much."

"So what if you know a lot?" Chen Wanghai turned around and looked at the four of them.

"He's a prefectural vice-prefect; without solid evidence, who can touch him? If we push him too far, he might expose what he knows—"

"Then let's make sure he can't get it out of his hands," Zhao Sihai said in a muffled voice.

Chen Wanghai glanced at him, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

"You think killing a high-ranking official is like killing a chicken? If he dies, the Six Doors will definitely send someone."

Whether they can find out or not is another matter, but our matter will be out in the open.

Zhao Sihai awkwardly shut his mouth.

Chen Wanghai paused for a moment, then said, "However, since he doesn't accept the opportunity to become an immortal or an ancestor, then don't blame us for being impolite."

Once the Lord's matter is settled, neither Lü Wenyuan nor those ungrateful fools will escape.

Zhou Huai-ren nodded: "You're right, sir. Once the Lord has fully arrived, won't we be in charge of Jingyang Prefecture and the entire world?"

The group looked at each other and smiled.

The smile held a mixture of fervor and a barely perceptible hint of fear.

Li Mao suddenly spoke up: "My lord, speaking of the lord... it seems something happened at Jin Guang Temple just now."

Chen Wanghai raised an eyebrow: "What is it?"

Li Mao stepped forward and lowered his voice: "Did you see the lightning half an hour ago, sir?"

Chen Wanghai nodded.

Of course he saw it.

While speaking with Lü Wenyuan in the back hall of the government office, he saw a strange dark cloud in the northwest direction, along with streaks of golden lightning.

The lightning strikes were dense and fierce; their oppressive power could be felt even from dozens of miles away.

"I just received the news," Li Mao said, "Jin Guang Temple... is gone."

"Gone?" Zhou Huai-ren's expression changed. "What do you mean, gone?"

"The entire temple collapsed, and the mountain was completely destroyed by lightning." Li Mao's voice was even lower.

"The monk Huiming is missing, and those people we locked up in the cellar... those people, they're gone too."

"Not a single one left?"

"Not a single one is left."

The underground space was quiet for a few moments.

The walnut in Wang Defa's hand started spinning again, spinning very fast.

"What about the offerings we prepared? What about that batch of goods? The twelve that were just sent over last month, and the batch from three months ago—"

"It's all gone," Li Mao said. "The people we sent said the cellar collapsed, and nothing was left."

Zhao Sihai slammed his fist on the wall: "That son of a bitch Huiming! What kind of job did he do?"

Chen Wanghai did not answer.

He stared at the symbols on the altar, his gaze somewhat unfocused, as if he were recalling something.

After a long silence, he spoke.

"You've been with me for quite a few years now. Do you remember the very beginning?"

Zhou Huai-ren nodded: "I remember. That was... twelve years ago, wasn't it? At that time, you were still the magistrate of Jingyang County, and that was the first time the Lord manifested His power."

"Twelve years have passed," Chen Wanghai murmured. "Back then, the Lord didn't need much flesh and blood. Only seven or eight a year, which could be satisfied with death row inmates."

He paused, then continued, "In those years, the public security in Jingyang County was exceptionally good. Why?"

Because we didn't have enough death row inmates, we started arresting those who should be arrested: murderers, womanizers, kidnappers—anyone who committed a crime would not escape.

"Capture them and send them to the altar; this both rid the scourge and satisfied the Lord."

Wang Defa nodded: "At that time, I was not the clan chief, but my father often told me that following Chen Wanghai was accumulating good karma."

"Accumulate good deeds..." Chen Wanghai smiled, but the smile was somewhat bitter.

"And then what? Then the Lord needed more and more flesh and blood. From seven or eight a year, it became twenty or thirty a year."

We don't have enough death row inmates, and we've arrested almost everyone we needed to. So we'll start arresting those who shouldn't die—the debtors, the homeless, the orphans.

As he spoke, his gaze swept over the four of them: "You guys helped out a lot during those years."

The four lowered their heads, and no one spoke.

"Later, the need increased," Chen Wanghai continued, "From twenty or thirty a year, it became hundreds a year."

In the vicinity of Jingyang Prefecture, almost everyone who could be arrested has been arrested. Public security is improving, but the population is dwindling.

He walked to the altar and looked down at the dark red light.

"Do you know why Jingyang Prefecture has looked so prosperous these past few years? It's not because life has gotten better, it's because of those who were so poor they couldn't survive..."

Those homeless people with no relatives or friends, those lonely elderly people left unattended—they all became sacrifices. With fewer people, wouldn't the remaining ones seem to have an easier time living?

Zhou Huai-ren raised his head: "Sir, we had no choice back then..."

"I know." Chen Wanghai waved his hand. "I don't blame you. I'm not entirely innocent either."

He paused for a moment, then said, "But in the past two years, the Lord's demands have been getting higher and higher. A hundred a year isn't enough. And we've discovered something."

"The sacrifice of a child is most effective," Li Mao interjected.

Chen Wanghai nodded: "That's right. One child is worth three adults. So we started catching children."

Zhou Huai-ren sighed: "I've always felt guilty about this. The child doesn't understand anything..."

"We have to do it even if it's against our conscience," Chen Wanghai interrupted him. "If we don't, our lord will blame us, and we'll all die."

"Moreover, what can't be done in the face of the supernatural powers of becoming an immortal, a patriarch, and achieving eternal life?"

Silence fell once again in the underground space.

Only the flame of the oil lamp flickered gently, emitting a faint crackling sound.

Just then, the strange symbols on the altar suddenly shone brightly!

The dark red light instantly filled the entire space, turning the faces of the five people a blood-red color.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered violently, almost going out.

An eerie aura emanated from the symbol.

The aura was cold, viscous, and heavy, like countless invisible hands pressing down on everyone's heart.

Zhou Huai-ren's legs went weak and he almost knelt down; the walnut in Wang Defa's hand fell to the ground and rolled to the corner of the wall.

Li Mao's face was deathly pale, and his lips trembled; Zhao Sihai's forehead was covered in large beads of sweat.

Only Chen Wanghai remained standing, but his hands were trembling slightly.

Above the altar, light coalesced into a face.

That face had no features, only a mouth.

His mouth opened, emitting a muffled sound, a sound that seemed to come from a very deep and distant place, carrying an indescribable eeriness:

"Kinkō-ji Temple...is destroyed..."

The five people knelt down together, their foreheads touching the ground.

"My lord!" Chen Wanghai's voice trembled, "I have failed in my duty; please punish me!"