Gou Zai Punishment Division

The ventilation ducts in the Nanming City Archives emit a foul odor every night.

A sound similar to the air leaking out after the throat has been cut.

Chen Mo sat in the rusted iron chair. Before him lay a brass capsule.

As soon as it was unscrewed, a smell of cheap sandalwood and dead blood wafted out.

This is the pledge of allegiance that Wen Liang sent:

Audit Report on the Purity and Loss of Incense Offerings in the Chengxi Jurisdiction.

Chen Mo's fingertip hovered over the last line of data.

In areas like Anju Street and Taiping Lane, where people seek peace and safety...

The account book was stamped with a glaring red seal:

"Incense conversion rate: 3%. Quality: Inferior consumables."

Turning to the next page, however, the data on slums and underground casinos...

Terrifyingly high:

"Incense conversion rate: 96%. Quality: Premium purity."

Chen Mo stared at the line of words, his pen hovering in mid-air.

The golden statues of gods and Buddhas throughout the heavens, it turns out, do not appreciate ordinariness and sincerity.

Their true diet consists of the ultimate greed, anger, and ignorance.

The gambler's greed and the resentment of the desperate are what truly drive...

High-purity fuel imbued with divine power.

They are not protecting the common people, but rather breeding suffering.

"No wonder..."

Chen Mo twitched the corner of his mouth and quickly scribbled on the paper.

He didn't write any rousing slogans, just a single line of official document:

"Instruction: Reveal the coordinates of the top-tier incense area in the west of the city to..."

The East and South City Patrol Divisions remained in their original positions, lying low.

When gods fight, mortals take charge.

Throwing away this piece of fat meat will cause these hypocrites to act like mad dogs.

They were tearing each other apart.

[Gasping phase]

After sending out the plan, Chen Mo took out a shriveled coin from the drawer.

Oranges. The tangy, refreshing aroma as he peeled them warmed him from the cold...

They were pulled back by causal calculations.

He counted the orange segments one by one. One, two, three...

Until the heartbeat returns to a normal human frequency.

He realized that the power game that had just orchestrated the deaths of thousands...

At that moment, my heartbeat didn't even change by a fraction.

That perspective, looking down on all living beings, sent chills down his spine.

If he doesn't seize the opportunity, he will become the next god.

Chen Mo burst out of the door and ran towards the lunchbox stall on the street corner.

That's Uncle Li's stall.

"Uncle Li, get me two meat buns."

Chen Mo leaned against the greasy cutting board, breathing heavily.

"Spread on the chili sauce. Use all the spiciest chili oil you have in your jar!"

The moment the meat bun entered my mouth, a burning, excruciating pain exploded in my oral cavity.

It was so spicy it made my tongue numb, and my throat felt like it had swallowed a knife.

Physiological tears mingled with the raindrops and fell, causing my stomach to cramp.

But amidst this excruciating physical pain, Chen Mo smiled.

If you feel pain, you're still a human being.

An ordinary person who cares about the perfect attendance bonus and about the change he gets for those two dollars.

***

Chapter 020 Borrowing Fire

The winter rain remained fine and dense, like a layer of shadow clinging to the city's surface.

Chen Mo pushed his bicycle, its creaking sound echoing in the silence.

The night is like the ticking of a timer.

Outside the archives room, a series of light footsteps stopped.

"Sir, the data has been 'put in'."

A gentle voice came through the door, trembling slightly.

Wen Liang knelt outside the door. His mortal body was somewhat loose.

A patch of dead skin at the corner of his eye curled up slightly from fear.

He saw through Chen Mo's methods of manipulating the causal relationships of the gods.

"Wenliang," Chen Mo stared into the darkness, "you tell me, in this city..."

Why are temples always painted gold?

Wen Liang was stunned: "Represents solemnity?"

"No, it's to cover up the smell of rust underneath."

Chen Mo pushed open the door and brushed past Wen Liang, who was kneeling outside.

Their shadows briefly met under the emergency light, and then...

They diverged into different abysses.

By the roadside, Uncle Li was busy kneading dough, sweat dripping down his dark skin.

The sweat dripped down his neck and into his vest, and the steam from the steamer made him cough.

"Xiao Chen, you're getting off work late?"

Uncle Li handed over the steamed bun with a smile.

Chen Mo noticed a new red mark on the back of Uncle Li's hand.

It looked like being burned by incense ash, or like some kind of mark.

Chen Mo didn't say anything, took out two yuan, folded it neatly, and pressed it against the greasy...

He turned and rode away from under the cutting board.

Chen Mo stopped at the alley entrance.

The streetlights were dim, and he turned to look at the steamed bun stall.

A phantom figure dressed in a scarlet official robe was standing in front of Uncle Li.

Beside the steamer, I inhaled deeply the aroma of the freshly steamed buns.

Uncle Li was completely unaware of the situation and enthusiastically beckoned to passersby.

Chen Mo withdrew his gaze. His left eye's Cause and Effect Eye shone in the darkness.

A barely perceptible scrambled code flashed by.

He didn't go to save Uncle Li.

He simply increased the pedal speed, as if to brave a storm.

Before it arrived, I hurried back to that drafty rented room.

Some fires are borrowed.

If you borrow, you have to pay it back.

In the depths of the night, the bell of the City God Temple rang once.

Crisp and short.

It was as if someone had removed the last bead from an abacus.