While I was chanting a curse, the system said I was Xiao Yan?

Men and women dressed in various styles of kimonos or suits, with serious expressions and sharp eyes.

They looked at Tianyan as he pushed open the door, their eyes filled with something indescribable.

It wasn't anger, nor hostility, but a more complex expression, like looking at a disobedient tool.

The person in charge of the General Manager's Office.

Tianyan didn't recognize them, but he recognized that kind of look in their eyes.

The old folks at the Zen temple had always treated him the same way for a long time.

"Zen Temple Heavenly Flame".

The elderly man sitting in the first seat on the left spoke, his voice hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against sheet metal: "You're late."

Tianyan took out his phone and glanced at the time.

10:03.

He simply bowed slightly and said, "I'm sorry for the traffic."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

The old man's lips twitched slightly, clearly not expecting him to use "traffic jam" as an excuse, but he didn't pursue the matter, just snorted coldly and looked away.

"sit."

Tianyan sat down in the middle, his back straight, his hands on his knees, his posture as upright as a good student listening attentively in class.

These "teachers" put a lot of pressure on people; the dimly lit space, their high and mighty positions—Tian Yan had to look up to speak.

They certainly have quite the airs.

Tianyan silently grumbled to himself, then looked away, lowered his eyes, and waited quietly.

To the right of the head of the conference table, a middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses stood up, holding a document in his hand. He cleared his throat and began to read.

"Zen-in Ten'en, a second-year student at the Tokyo Metropolitan Higher School of Spellcasting, and a Level 2 Spellcaster, was ordered to carry out a rescue mission this month. After completing the mission, he will head to the Panxing Cult's headquarters..."

He was reading the mission report that Tianyan had submitted yesterday.

The report was written by Tianyan himself, and it was a carefully edited version: the Panxing Cult posed a threat to the safety of Tianlizi in the Star Pulse Body. He went to the Panxing Cult to investigate and found that the Panxing Cult was colluding with curse masters and curse spirits, etc.

The report is truthful; every word can withstand scrutiny!

But clearly, the people in the management department don't think so.

After reading the report, the middle-aged man put down the documents, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and looked at Tian Yan's face.

"Zen Temple Tianyan, your report states that the Panxing Sect colluded with the Cursed Spirits. Where is the evidence?"

"There should still be traces of battle left next to the Panxing Sect's base; those tree roots can serve as evidence."

The middle-aged man's lips curved into a slight smile: "That location is quite far from the Panxing Sect, and it might be a passing cursed spirit. After discussion by the supervisory department, the evidence of collusion between the Panxing Sect and the cursed spirit is extremely insufficient and will not be accepted."

Tianyan frowned.

"Zen Temple Heavenly Flame".

At this moment, an old man sitting on the right side of the conference table spoke up, his voice hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against sheet metal: "Do you know your crime?"

Tian Yan stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression calm. He glanced at everyone present and said, "I don't know."

The old man's face darkened: "What did you say?"

"I said, I don't know." Tian Yan's tone was as calm as if he were commenting on the weather: "What crime have I committed?"

"Bang!"

Another old man slammed his hand on the table and stood up.

"You've murdered over a dozen non-magicians! And you're still pretending to be clueless?"

Tianyan turned his head to look at him, his expression still calm.

"Is there any evidence?"

The old man was stunned for a moment.

"you……!"

"I mean, is there any evidence?"

Tianyan interrupted him, his tone flat and emotionless: "You say I killed more than a dozen non-magicians, where's the evidence?"

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

The middle-aged man's smile widened as he pulled another document from the folder, held it up to his face, and began to read.

"According to our investigation, a total of twelve members of the Panxing Sect died at their headquarters. The cause of death was shooting, and remnants of the Chanyuan Tianyan's curse power remained at the scene."

"Those dozen or so bodies all had fatal gunshot wounds. We found shell casings at the scene, and your fingerprints were on them."

The meeting room erupted in uproar.

"Sorcerers are forbidden from harming ordinary people; this is an ironclad rule!"

"They must be severely punished!"

Tianyan ignored the voices and sat there quietly. After the clamor subsided a little, he spoke: "First of all, I did not do those things. Secondly, I stated in my report that those people are fanatical followers of the Panxing Cult."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear: "They openly hired a curse master to assassinate a teenage middle school student; they're hindering Lord Tengen's assimilation process..."

"Shut up!"

An old man on the left slammed his hand on the table, his voice booming like thunder: "The Panxing Sect is a non-magic religious group that simply worships Lord Tianyuan! Moreover, there is no evidence whatsoever that the Panxing Sect hired someone to kill the Star Essence Body. Even if they did, they didn't do it themselves. What right do you, a mere brat who hasn't even grown up yet, have to kill them?"

Tianyan's gaze fell on the old man's face, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

There was no mockery or anger in that smile, only a knowing "I knew it" kind of understanding.

His voice remained calm. "So, in your eyes, those Panxing cultists who shout 'What does it matter if a few people die?' are more worthy of protection than me, a highly skilled sorcerer who diligently completes Lord Tianyuan's mission?"

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

The old man's face turned bright red, his lips trembled, and he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words to refute it.

The middle-aged man coughed and continued, "Zen Temple Tianyan, don't try to twist the facts. A sorcerer's duty is to protect non-sorcerers. What the Panxing Sect believes is their freedom; you have no right to interfere, much less the right to kill them!"

He paused, his gaze sharpening further: "Twelve people, twelve lives, all killed by you alone. Zen Temple Tianyan, you are challenging the bottom line of the sorcery world, you are challenging the authority of our supervisory department!"

"So what?" Tianyan's voice remained calm.

"so?"

The middle-aged man sneered: "So, you will be tried by the Directorate General, and your crimes will be investigated by us..."

"Wait a moment."

Tianyan interrupted him, looked at everyone and spoke, his voice not loud, but everyone in the conference room could hear him clearly.

"Now I finally understand. You called me here not to discuss my report, but simply to announce your decision."

"Your information leads you to believe that I killed all these people, so all of this is to put me on trial."

"This is really..."

He stood up from the chair.

The chair slid back half a meter, making a slight creaking sound as it rubbed against the floor, which was particularly jarring in the quiet conference room.

All eyes were on him.

Tianyan stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression almost too calm.

He looked at the faces of the people on both sides of the conference table, from left to right, and from right to left.

Then he laughed.

The smile was faint; the corners of his mouth curved slightly, but there was no smile in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry everyone, you..."

"You have no right to judge me."