When evil gods hold a meeting in my head

The alley ahead grew increasingly dilapidated, as if it had been ravaged by fire, thick with smoke and a slightly acrid smell. Some of the houses on either side were already burned down, and the further Richard and Rosalie went, the more desolate the scene became—broken fishing nets, rotten wooden barrels, and shattered bottles piled up along the roadside, making it difficult to find a place to stand…

Richard was forced to slow down, leading Rosalie along the wall. At each fork in the road, they would stop, peek out, and then continue.

But he hadn't gone far when he saw several figures ahead... They were loitering at the alley entrance, looking rather dangerous...

Richard immediately pulled Rosalie into a narrower alleyway. He pressed his back against the wall, pulled her over, and covered her mouth.

Rosalie didn't struggle. She stood there, smiling, her eyes bright, looking at him.

Footsteps echoed from the alleyway entrance. Heavy, they crunched on the pebbles. A voice spoke, hoarse and rough: "Has this area been searched?"

Another voice: "No, go over there."

The footsteps faded into the distance.

Richard waited a while before letting go of Rosalie's hand and continuing to walk.

He didn't know where to go. There must be people at the dock, but how could he catch a boat if he didn't go to the dock? If he couldn't catch a boat, how could he get to North Port? If he couldn't get to North Port, how could he find Puta? If he couldn't find Puta, how could he rescue Rosalie?

He stopped and looked around.

The alley was lined with low houses, door to door, window to window. Some doors were open, dark and gaping, making it impossible to see what was inside. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled Rosalie toward the nearest door.

With a gentle push, the door opened... Inside was a very small room, only about ten square meters. Fishing nets and wooden buckets were piled against the wall, and in the corner was a broken bed covered with tattered cotton wadding. Several empty wine bottles and leftover fish bones lay on the floor.

A man dressed like a fisherman was huddled in a corner, covering his head and trembling.

Richard was stunned, and the other person looked up at him with wrinkled eyes. The eyes were red, as if he had just been crying.

Upon seeing Richard and Rosalie, he initially shrank back in fear, but relaxed slightly after realizing they weren't members of the Forest of Nature's Church in robes. He asked tremblingly, "Who...who are you?"

Richard didn't answer, but instead asked him, "What are you doing here?"

The old man's eyes reddened again: "The boat... they stole my boat. I've fished my whole life, and that boat, they took it all..."

As he spoke, tears streamed down his face, cutting into the wrinkles of his skin. He raised his hand to wipe them away, and the calluses and cracks on the back of his hand also became wet with tears, resembling dry ground dampened with water…

"Where did they go? They won't come back, will they?" Richard asked worriedly.

"Outside...outside..." The old man shrank back. "I'm afraid to go out. They beat anyone they see and steal anything they see...My son was beaten to death and is still lying in the alley..."

The person they were talking about... must be those church members! They're even worse and more dangerous than I imagined... Richard looked at the old man and suddenly remembered the corpses he'd seen on the road earlier...

But some of them died too. Were they killed by the patrol officers...?

At this moment, the old man glanced at Richard again, and then his gaze fell on Rosalie behind him.

Rosalie stood there, stunned. The old man glanced at her, a strange look flashing in his eyes, but he didn't ask anything. He simply said, "You two should hurry up and leave... don't let them see you. There's a small dock over there with some small boats that they haven't taken. If you can get there, you might be able to row away..."

The next second, before he could finish speaking, the door was suddenly kicked open!

Bang bang bang!

The door slammed against the wall, bouncing back and forth. Richard watched breathlessly. A few seconds passed, but it felt like centuries... Time moved to an extreme slowness. Richard's hair stood on end. Just then, a hand blocked the door, and it stopped!

A tall, human-shaped figure blocked the doorway!

He wore a drab gray robe embroidered with trees. His cheekbones were prominent on his thin face, making him look like a weasel at first glance.

Before Richard could even think, he saw the other person raise his right hand, and suddenly wisps of red and yellow flames appeared on his palm. The veins on his arm bulged out, thicker than water pipes.

He no longer looked human... The man from the Church of the Natural Forest glanced around the room, finally fixing his gaze on the old man: "Hidden here?"

As he spoke, a twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth, the kind of excitement one feels when spotting prey…

The old man's face turned deathly pale. He shrank back, unable to utter another word.

The man took a step forward, raised his burning hand, and waved it at the old man.

A burst of flame erupted from his palm, striking the old man. He was sent flying, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud bang, sending dust and debris raining down. He slid down, curled up in a corner, and lay motionless.

Dust rose up and filled the entire room.

Richard tensed up the moment the door was kicked open.

The instant the flames erupted, he reacted swiftly, raising his right hand and snapping his fingers. Purple mist, accompanied by the sonic boom created by the snap, surged from the ring and slowly condensed.

He visualized the shape of the shield in his mind, and the mist flowed in front of his arm as if guided by his own hand, tearing into pieces and forming a surface! A few seconds later, a large shield stood in front of him, grayish-white with a smooth surface, blocking him and Rosalie behind it.

Flames struck the shield, scattering and sparks falling to the ground.

The man paused for a moment, then looked at Richard.

"A superhuman?" he said, his tone tinged with surprise, but mostly with excitement. He licked his lips, and the flames on his hands burned even brighter.

Richard didn't speak, but pulled Rosalie back. The shield moved with him, blocking their path.

The man took a step forward and unleashed another ball of fire. The flames struck the shield but failed to burn through. He frowned, staring at the shield as if trying to figure out what it was made of.

Richard stepped back to the doorway, then took another step and went out. He glanced back at Rosalie, who stood behind him, still smiling, her eyes bright, as if nothing had happened.

The man suddenly stopped looking at him and turned to the old man in the corner.

The old man lay curled up, motionless, his fate unknown. The man raised his hand, and the flames rose again, aimed at the old man.

Richard's mind raced.

We can't let him kill the old man. Not because the old man helped them, but because this guy will come after them after killing the old man. He has a shield now, which can block the fire, but it won't last long. We have to fight him.

He stared at the man, focused his mind, and made the edge of the shield begin to change.

The purple mist extended from the edge of the shield, stretched, solidified, and transformed into a row of sharp, serrated teeth. Each tooth gleamed with a cold light.

The man sensed something and instantly turned to dodge, but Richard pushed forward forcefully, sending the shield flying out of his hand!

The shield flew toward the man, its edge serrated like fangs as it pierced through!

The man tried to hide, but the room was too small, and there was no more space for him to hide... He raised his hand, trying to use the fire to block, but the flames dissipated when they touched the shield.

The shield struck him.

The saber pierced his abdomen with a dull thud. He flew backward, crashing into the wall behind him. The shield was embedded in his stomach, the saber protruding from his back, and blood splattered all over the wall.

He opened his mouth, but only spat out a mouthful of blood. Then he slid down, sat on the ground, tilted his head to the side, and died.

Richard stood there, panting.

The purple mist dissipated, the shield disappeared, and blood began to gush from the wound on the man's abdomen, flowing red and soaking the ground.