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    Chapter 132

    The players started to spring into action.

    Black Cat and the Druid's progress in the main quest was like a timely rain. It provided direction for both veteran players who were previously at a loss on how to join the main storyline and new players who were seeking their place.

    For instance, within the Audit Bureau.

    The Taxman and Justice Is Skin-Deep glanced at the forums and had nothing much to say. With their current status advantage, it was clear that they would prioritize the mission to steal the Ark.

    However, there was an issue now.

    Where exactly... was the Ark?

    The Taxman frowned, and Justice Is Skin-Deep wore a similarly perplexed expression on the other side.

    This wasn't surprising. Even the Doctor, who had planned to seize the Ark, hadn't found its location, let alone these players who had just joined the Audit Bureau.

    In a chat group of new players, they were also discussing where the Ark might be.

    Janitor: I haven't heard of anything like that... Speaking of which, does the Inspectorate have a specific area for storing oddities, contaminants, and sealed items? Could it be there?

    Cafeteria Aunty: It can't be, right? If even we can think of it, do you think Doctor wouldn't?

    Security Guard: Should we perhaps fetch a blueprint of the inspection agency, close our eyes, and throw a dart to rely on luck? Whatever section the dart lands on, that's where we go?

    Beauty is Justice: Is it...meta-magical? I feel like the system wouldn't acknowledge it, qwq.

    Security Guard: It won't hurt to give it a try.

    Security Guard: Uh-oh, major blunder.

    Amid the horrified gaze of the group members, the ID representing the security guard suddenly went dark.

    Ah, what now...

    Beauty is Justice: It seems the system has enforced punishment (shivering). Let's think of alternative solutions.

    Tax Officer: I just had an idea.

    Inspector: You mentioned that the Doctor managed to replace all the investigators from various departments without being detected, and since the Ark is so crucial, could it be that the Director is personally guarding it?

    Beauty is Justice: That's possible... but if that's the case, we won't be able to get our hands on it! How can we take it right next to this boss called Fate?

    Inspector: No! Think about what Kurt just said. Fate might be in a dormant state now. We have a chance!

    Inspector: Our immediate priority is to locate Fate's exact whereabouts to confirm if the Ark is indeed beside him!

    As the Inspector typed in the group chat, he hurriedly turned around and chased after Kurt in the direction he had left.

    Kurt had already been gone for a while. Fortunately, due to Albert's earlier attack, the area where the Director was located had been exposed to players, which was underground at the Audit Bureau. Thus, the Inspector only needed to rush to the entrance. True enough, he spotted Kurt there.

    Just as Kurt was about to descend, he noticed the Inspector rushing over, giving him an antagonistic glare.

    Unfazed, the Inspector said, "I've heard that the Director rarely makes public appearances. I've long admired this individual and was wondering if I might have the opportunity for a meeting."

    Kurt misunderstood, "Hmph, do you think I would flee with the Director?"

    The Inspector maintained his smile, "I never said that."

    Kurt, of course, was unconvinced. With a tense smile, he fixed the tax collector with a cold stare. After a moment, the corners of his mouth lifted. "Sure, let's go together then."

    The tax collector could tell from the man's insincere expression that something was amiss. Still, driven by the desire to find the Ark, he mustered up his courage and followed.

    The underground area seemed to have been repaired beforehand, but blackened marks from explosions were still visible in the corners. The tax collector couldn't help but click his tongue; Albert had certainly dealt a harsh blow...

    Was this what it meant to love deeply and hate fiercely?

    Nonetheless, he had no time for such musings. As he memorized the route downward, he simultaneously sent updates to their group chat.

    Unbeknownst to him, the group he posted in was not only the small cluster for new players but also another one that Yan Jiustice and others had previously created to advance the main storyline, which included veteran players.

    Thus, one with an expressionless face, and the other pretending to be expressionless while secretly taking note, they made their way through. Patrols appeared roughly every ten paces, and surveillance points every hundred. It was evident that after Albert's previous underground assault, they had learned from their pain and bolstered the defenses here significantly.

    Soon enough, Kurt led the tax collector to the very heart of the underground chambers.

    "This is the place."

    Kurt didn't give the auditor time to reconsider. Stepping forward, he used his ID card to unlock the door, revealing the room's contents in an instant.

    A colossal test tube first caught the eye, towering three to four meters high, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Inside it was a pale blue, mysterious liquid. Most strikingly, within the test tube lay a person.

    This was probably the players' first encounter with Fate's physical form - a man around six feet tall, his long silver hair floating in the fluid. His handsome face was adorned with silver eyelashes and eyebrows. Wrapped in a peculiar fabric, his skin was abnormally pale, likely due to years of sunlight deprivation.

    However, what caused the most horror was the signs of mutation now evident on Fate's face. Feather-like patterns emerged around his eyes, and beneath his normal pair, there were closed lids of another set.

    The moment the tax collector beheld this sight, a voice of Sanity Check echoed in his mind.

    "Sanity Check: Successful"

    In an instant, he understood why Kurt had so readily agreed to bring him here. Rolling his eyes, he hatched a plan. Pretending that the Sanity Check had failed, he rushed inside like a possessed man, throwing out a Scan as he went.

    "Scan: Successful"

    "You notice that the room is spacious, with the central test tube and the wall-mounted surveillance screens being the most prominent features. There seems to be something placed at the top of the test tube."

    Kurt, originally expecting a spectacle, was caught off guard by the man's sudden dash. His expression changed, and he quickly grabbed the tax collector's shoulder, attempting to restrain him.

    But in that split second, the tax collector's reflexes kicked in. Before he could take a picture, he turned on the live stream, capturing every detail of the room. He didn't forget to maintain his act, exclaiming crazily, "Ah! My dear Director! You are heaven, you are earth, the most beautiful scenery!"

    Kurt's pull suddenly wavered, nearly allowing the auditor to escape. As he regained his composure, his gaze at the auditor grew increasingly complicated. Despite this, he still exerted all his strength to drag the man out.

    The contest of strength was one-sided. While being dragged out, the auditor frantically called for help in the forums and group chats.

    Confirmed! The Ark of Covenant is most likely in this room!

    Kurt roughly pushed the auditor to the ground. The auditor, determined to maintain his act, continued staring unblinkingly at the container holding Destiny even after being pulled out of the room. His eyes bulged with suppressed blood vessels as he muttered "Savior," "Great One," and "Master of Fate" repeatedly, appearing utterly overwhelmed and devoid of reason.

    Seeing this, even Kurt, the instigator, no longer doubted the auditor's initial rush into the room. Instead, he began to regret dragging the man into this chamber, fearing that the auditor's state would give the tax agency's lackeys another excuse to cause trouble.

    Just as Kurt was grappling with this headache, a man in a staff uniform appeared at the end of the underground corridor. Spotting Kurt, he hurried over and exclaimed, "Oh no, Mr. Kurt, you need to go above ground and take charge immediately!"

    "What are those tax agency people up to now?!" Kurt blurted out.

    "The research department is unhappy about Dr. Hans being arrested. They're causing a disturbance, and the people outside are almost bringing in tanks!" The man's voice conveyed a well-timed mix of panic and grievance. Kurt felt a chill run down his spine and glanced at the auditor. "You got lucky."

    Sighing, he pulled the auditor up from the floor, a blue glow emanating from his hand to envelop the auditor's face.

    The tax inspector heard the gentle prompt in his ear, dazed.

    "Sanity recovery in progress... +1, +1."

    Well, this guy's ability actually restores people's sanity?

    With no other choice, the tax inspector pretended to be waking up from madness, staring blankly at Kurt. "What happened?"

    "Nothing much. It's time to go upstairs. Your men are causing a commotion."

    Kurt had already closed the door before the tax inspector fully regained his composure – he was genuinely scared now, given how quickly the man had gone mad.

    Following Kurt, the tax inspector passed by the worker who had delivered the message. His gaze shifted when he noticed the white ID above the worker's head: Thief Saint.

    Thief Saint winked at the tax inspector and pretended to walk away, only to immediately return to the door once Kurt had led the inspector away.

    Player Channel:

    Tax Collector: Well, when did you arrive?

    Thief Saint: Just before you sent out the route.

    In truth, Thief Saint wasn't a new player; he was also among the veterans. During the Khami Gathering, he had saved a pickpocket. In return for saving his life, was Thief Saint the type to expect repayment?

    Well, that's what players were like.

    Thus, Thief Saint unapologetically requested advanced thieving skills. Surprisingly, the pickpocket who stole wallets during the gathering turned out to be a master. After studying under him for a while, Thief Saint successfully advanced his profession to become a Great Thief, significantly boosting his Disguise, Acting, Locksmithing, Sleight of Hand, and Stealth skills.

    Now, all he needed was an opportunity to make a name for himself.

    Thoughts lingering, he licked his lips and gazed at the door secured with multiple locks. His fingers moved like serpents in the air.

    Between his fingers, he held an ID card that originally belonged to Kurt.


    While the players were busy searching for the Ark at the Tax Bureau, the Doctor was being escorted into an armored vehicle.

    Indeed, it was absurd. The Tax Bureau had the authority to make arrests on its own. Only after being pinned down by the vehicle did the Doctor realize the gravity of the situation, his face turning ashen.

    Phew... Patience. When his master arrives, he must slay these ungrateful citizens!

    The Doctor took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing his anger. The armored vehicles drew closer to the city center when they suddenly caught sight of an urgent news flash on the electronic billboards of skyscrapers.

    "Midday news, dear viewers. We interrupt your regular programming for an emergency update. Just moments ago, a group of heavily armed individuals attacked a television station and are now live-streaming the event on the internet. Let's go to the scene."

    The camera switched to what seemed to be the live stream. If Lane were to see this, he would probably burst out laughing.

    Because the usernames in these live streams were all familiar names.

    Nian Nian, Ba Ba, Shu Shu Hao, and even the previously unknown Feng and Strongest Man had somehow found their way in.

    Of course, having learned from Nian Nian's previous incident, they had all switched character cards and modified them to appear menacing. At a glance, they looked like troublemakers.

    And at that moment, Nian Nian, with her new character card, was provocatively addressing the camera.

    "We've planted bombs in various buildings across the heart of Orland City! Once the time is up, we'll send you all to the afterlife!"

    "Hmm? You ask where I'll strike? Of course, wherever there are crowds! If you don't want to die, run for your lives, hahaha!"

    It had to be said that the unscrupulous citizens were each adept at playing their villainous roles, to the point that Nightly didn't even need to intimidate them deliberately. With the news coverage, the live stream had already erupted into chaos.

    A barrage of curses and curses followed, revealing the profound anger of the people of Orland.

    "Damn beasts!"

    "Go die, all of you, just go die!"

    "Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me..."

    "Madman taking revenge on society, scum, damn it!"

    "You're dead meat, showing your faces like that. I'll dig up your ancestors' graves!"

    Of course, there were also many citizens pleading desperately and police warnings. However, Nightly and his companions wore bright smiles as they directly confronted these curses.

    "Well, here I am. Want revenge? You'd better survive first!"

    "Our purpose? No, no, we don't want anything. We just want to take revenge on society! That's all!"

    "Will we die? Hahaha, we couldn't care less! Banned?" Yeye's expression contorted as he aimed the gun at the quivering TV station staff member crouched on the ground. "If you dare to ban our live stream, be prepared to answer for these people's lives!"

    Yeye pressed the gun against the producer's temple, a heavyset man drenched in sweat who frantically gestured to the camera, pleading not to provoke this madman.

    Baba and her companions whispered in the background.

    Not Crazy: "Why is he so enthusiastic in his performance?"

    Uncle Hao: "Ah, don't mention it. The kid's heart was broken, and he lost the chance to attend Michigan University. Let him vent a bit."

    Baba: "Poor thing. Tsk tsk, I heard Miss Weiwei has a new boyfriend."

    Yeye spun around with a twisted expression and roared, "I can hear you!"

    He turned back to the camera, his voice cold and sinister, and said,

    "Oh, right, just in case you don't believe us, I'll kindly give you a demonstration."

    With that, he signaled in the player channel and then pressed the button fiercely before the tens of thousands of viewers in his livestream.

    In a certain park in the heart of Orland City, as the majority had decided, they had just finished setting up the bomb. Suddenly, Odd Number made a gesture: "Detonate!"

    Majority Obeys Minority immediately lit the fuse manually, grinning as he dragged Odd Number away.


    A loud explosion echoed, and white smoke billowed into the sky above the park. However, due to the previous intimidation by Ye Ye's group, no crowds had gathered in the park, resulting in no casualties.

    This also indicated that these terrorists were not messing around.

    The police arrived at the park promptly, followed closely by news reporters. Panic swept through the citizens of Orland City, and one car after another left the downtown area.

    "Tsk, these scumbags!" In the armed vehicle escorting Doctor, the driver looked out the window at the stream of cars going against traffic and angrily honked his horn.

    Doctor sat in the back, listening to the commotion outside. He furrowed his brow slightly. Was it a coincidence? The terrorists chose this moment to attack the television station.

    From the sounds outside, many residents were fleeing the city center. He hoped that those tax-funded law enforcement officers would spring into action soon.

    At that moment, the Doctor's expression froze, his gaze fixed on an empty space as he murmured, "Master? Have you summoned me?"

    The armed personnel in the armored vehicle were taken aback, looking at the Doctor in confusion. "Are you talking to us?"

    The Doctor ignored them, tilting his head as he listened intently, his face grave and strangely solemn. "Yes, yes, I understand. Is it time?"

    The armed men exchanged bewildered glances, sensing something eerie, even unsettling. One of them smirked, "Doctor, if you're trying to request a mental health evaluation to avoid responsibility, you'll have to wait for your lawyer. Putting on a show for us won't help now."

    Laughter erupted within the vehicle, but the Doctor didn't join in. A chilling devotion appeared on his face, his eyes burning with determination. He muttered, "I understand. I will follow your will."

    "Let the angel descend upon this city of sin."

    With that, the Doctor stood up. The armed personnel, who had been secretly on guard, immediately aimed their guns at him. "Don't move! Sit down! Don't do anything rash!"

    Unfazed by the guns pointed at him, a bizarre smile flickered across the Doctor's face.

    With no weapons in his hands and being just an elderly man, the armed personnel were frustrated by his provocation but refrained from shooting. Their hesitation proved to be the last emotion they would experience in their minds.

    Invisible tendrils of flesh sprouted from the Doctor's back, wrapping around the back of their heads. The armed men couldn't resist as their eyes grew dull. Something squirmed beneath the skin of their brains, being sucked away by the flesh tubes like a vacuum cleaner.

    In the end, the armored vehicle screeched to a halt on the road, instantly causing a rear-end collision behind it. The driver of the trailing car, cursing under his breath, stepped out and was about to confront the culprit when he saw an odd old man emerge from the back of the vehicle. Behind the old man, several grown men were lying sprawled inside.

    The driver swallowed hard and silently retreated back to his own car. The Doctor had no interest in such a minor character. He turned his head and gazed in the direction of the nearest church.

    Inside the church, it was Sunday service. Local Christians had already gathered spontaneously, singing hymns, listening to the pastor's sermon, studying the Bible, and praying. One activity followed another, filling the air with a serene atmosphere that was untouched by the chaos outside.

    Suddenly, the main doors of the church swung open from the outside, a highly disrespectful interruption during the service.

    The congregation and the pastor glared at the intrusive intruder. Seeing that it was an elderly man, the priest assumed he might have an urgent matter and stepped down from the pulpit, asking, "Sir, is there something you need?"

    "Something I need? Ah, yes, something very important."

    Slowly lifting his head, the Doctor's face twisted into a strange smile. "Consider yourselves fortunate, folks, for you are about to witness the arrival of Gabriel."

    A look of astonishment washed over the priest's face. "I'm sorry... What did you say?"

    The Doctor had no intention of explaining further. To waste more words on these mortals would be a great favor. Behind him, the flesh tubes wriggled, swiftly advancing towards the unsuspecting group.


    The Saint of Thieves swiped the card, effortlessly unlocking the door. His gaze fell on the suspicious spot that the tax inspector had noticed earlier.

    At the very top of the petri dish, there was indeed a peculiar device, resembling a safe but connected to the dish itself.

    Surveying his surroundings, the Saint of Thieves grabbed a few boxes and a chair, stacking them together to barely reach the height needed. Perched atop this makeshift platform, he stretched out his hand, just able to touch the suspicious container.

    However, this position brought him dangerously close to the glass of the petri dish. A glance would reveal the fate suspended in the liquid, a rather unsettling sight up close. If it were to open its eyes now, it would be straight out of a horror movie.

    Shaking his head to dispel the chilling thoughts, the Saint of Thieves struggled to crane his neck. Unbeknownst to him, as he shifted his gaze, the silver-haired man inside the dish fluttered his eyelashes, briefly opening and then closing his eyes again.

    Spotting the lock on the box above, the Saint of Thieves retrieved a wire from his pocket.

    "Locksmith: Failure"

    Come on, Lady Dice, don't let me down at such a crucial moment!

    Frustrated by the failed roll, he couldn't attempt another one for a short while. The Saint of Thieves gritted his teeth in annoyance, defying the odds with a Hail Mary attempt!

    In the name of a thief's honor, I'll give it my all!

    "Desperate Gamble: Failed"

    Thief Saint: ...

    A failed Desperate Gamble was an outright disaster. The Thief Saint's hand trembled, and the wire snapped, leaving a piece stuck inside.

    This was the definition of tears that couldn't fall.

    Unable to hold back his frustration, he admitted defeat. He would have to seek help from others.

    Just as he was about to send a distress signal, he fixated on his fingers and recalled the disappointed face of the old pickpocket during the class change.

    His finger, poised to send the request, hesitated. He temporarily closed the interface and, lost in thought, raised his hand to fiddle with the exposed wire.

    At this point, there was nothing to lose by trying.

    Following the old pickpocket's method, he clumsily manipulated the wire, attempting to locate where it was stuck. Perhaps his 75 Locksmith skill was coming into play; the Thief Saint listened carefully for any faint sounds the wire made, and an image of the lock's internal mechanism unexpectedly formed in his mind. With great caution, he guided the wire and abruptly pierced it into the upper left corner.


    The lock clicked open.

    "Damn it." The Thief Saint's face lit up with a grin, a surge of immense accomplishment flooding his heart. Then, he instinctively lowered his head and exclaimed, "Damn it!"

    This time, his exclamation was purely out of shock. The man in the Petri dish had vanished!


    Kurt escorted the tax inspector back to the surface, only to discover that the situation described by the man hadn't occurred. While most of the investigators were disgruntled, they all remained at their posts obediently. Staff members of the tax office hurried about the premises.

    A foreboding feeling crept into Kurt's mind. He grabbed a random employee and asked, "Was there any trouble here just now?"

    Before he could answer, the employee's bewildered expression spoke volumes.

    Kurt pressed his lips together, about to turn around when suddenly, red warning lights illuminated the entire audit bureau.

    All the investigators halted their work, staring in horror at the screens in the atrium, which were currently broadcasting news.

    In the empty sky, a faint silhouette of an angel began to form slowly, though it lacked a head and had tattered wings. There was no hint of holiness about it; instead, it exuded a sense of corruption and dread.

    The moment they caught sight of this figure, even through electronic screens, the agents of the Bureau of Investigation reacted strangely. Some clutched their heads in agony while others fixated on the screen with feverish eyes.

    Judith quickly realized that something was amiss. She gritted her teeth against the blinding pain and shouted, "Those with a strong sensitivity, don't look directly at the screen!"

    Her heart sank gradually. They were all too familiar with such signs of instability in one's sanity – symptoms that typically appeared when their investigators faced an evil deity.

    But never before had an evil deity made itself visible to the public in such an open manner.

    The implications of this occurrence were almost suffocating.

    Judith took a deep breath, regaining her composure as she opened her eyes again. Since the event had already transpired, they had to carry out their duties as the Bureau of Investigation.

    "Ma'am Judith," Justice Yan handed her a microphone.

    "Thank you." A momentary softness touched Judith's face before it hardened once more. She announced, "Return to your posts, everyone. The Bureau of Investigation is now under emergency protocol!"

    The investigators sprang into action. Kurt's face flickered with conflict as he recalled the bizarre incident, but seeing the live broadcast on the screen, he decided to stay and coordinate with the secretarial staff. "Everyone, to the war room!"

    As the upper echelons of the Inspectorate assembled in the conference room, someone couldn't resist asking, "What's the situation outside right now?"

    "A figure resembling an angel has appeared above a certain church in the city center. People are now kneeling in worship." Someone held a phone, clearly in communication with someone outside.

    "Worship... that thing?"

    "Hah, if you were there, you'd understand," the person replied. "Those who haven't fled yet can't escape now."

    In the heart of Orland City, outside that church, citizens knelt on the pavement, their faces filled with devotion and fervor:

    "He shall descend, Gabriel, at God's side, to spread the divine gospel to every corner!"

    As they prayed, the angel above the church gradually took form.

    He had arrived.


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