Chapter 185

Chapter 185

"To destroy something, one must first drive it mad."

Lane softly repeated the phrase, sensing the madness in Amos's plan.

Looking down at the obedient white puppy, he whispered, "The Three Days of Chaos... Were the surviving cultists afraid of you because they almost died at your hands?"

"More accurately, they were killed by the malice lurking deep within human nature," the white puppy said with narrowed, content eyes. "Strictly speaking, I didn't do anything."

Indeed, he had merely given the Church, or rather, the Pope, hope. That was why they had sealed off the city during the Black Plague, exploiting the chaos, despair, and suffering to expand their influence, using the so-called 'Holy Medicine' as a miraculous tool to win over the people's hearts.

But the diluted 'Holy Medicine' could no longer save everyone, and the prolonged lockdown had worsened the plague. The tensions within the city would inevitably erupt someday.

If there was a spark to ignite these tensions, such as Amos suddenly removing the healing properties from the blood, or if he had already used them up, what would those desperate and frenzied citizens do to save themselves?

Lane's gaze fell upon the revelers drinking blood at the feast, and a chill ran down his spine.

In times of war, there have been instances of parents exchanging their children for food, and the actions of those in despair are all too predictable.

By then, everyone in this church will become prey to be hunted, or rather... food.

This was Amos's scheme – to drag the church members into the hell he once experienced. The church had relied on 'feeding' on him to grow stronger. Now, it was their turn to be devoured by the countless people in the city.

Lan En was silent for a long while, absorbing the suffocating conclusion. Unlike the previous iteration at MIT, he seemed powerless to alter the course of events this time. The emergence of the new harbor was inextricably linked to the destruction of the old one. Unlike MIT, any slightest change to either outcome might trigger a butterfly effect.

Thus, the safest option was actually what Amos had proposed earlier: to slay Amos, the 'Son of Devils,' at the climax of the Day of Chaos, when it was at its most intense.

This way, he could retain the faith of the surviving church members with minimal alteration to the future.

Moreover, Lane had means to mend the timeline's fracture, even with just one less person.

However, the thought of the impending horrors in this city left a bitter taste in Lane's mouth. No matter how rational the cost-benefit analysis was, his conscience, as a modern individual, refused to stand idly by and witness such a vicious cycle of mutual destruction.

It wasn't out of sympathy for these cultists; honestly, they deserved it. As Amos had said, whether they were aware or not, whether they actively participated or not in the torment of the Holy Mother and Son, their prosperity was built upon the sacrifices of Amos and his mother. It was just their turn to face the consequences now.

But this city was not solely composed of cultists, rioters, fools, and believers. There were many innocent civilians, among them mothers, sons, and daughters. Once the chaos began, it likely wouldn't end quickly, and at any time, the sword would fall on the weakest.

However, Lane soon shook off his pondering.

Would things really proceed as 'smoothly' along their original path?

Lane's lips twitched as he glanced at the area where the players had gathered for the secondary feast. Oh, right, with that group around, nothing was certain.

He was looking at that person again. Amos kept a watchful eye on Lane, following his gaze to see the unremarkable priest in that direction, just as expected.

Was there something special about that man that had caught Mr. Demon's attention?

Amos felt a twinge of jealousy. He regarded Lane as a demon he had summoned, and currently, he alone could see Lane, which subtly seemed to attest to a singular fact: they shared a special connection.

Yet now, Lane was unexpectedly beginning to pay attention to the minor characters he had previously never given a serious glance.

After some thought, Amos cast a glance at the Pope, a cryptic smile tugging at his lips. He strolled slowly toward where the divine was said to reside among men.

As the crowd marveled at the divine medicine, the atmosphere of the banquet reached its peak. The Savior's Society had spared no expense to hire an ensemble that played elegant music. The guests, after sipping the 'divine medicine' served by the attendants, couldn't resist swaying to the tunes, their faces radiating contentment.

In the mortal realm, the deity noticed that the priest who had escorted Him earlier nonchalantly accepted a golden cup from a waiter, draining its contents, which was likely the consecrated wine.

At that moment, a servant nearby also presented a cup of liquid to God Amongst Men, who took the golden chalice and discreetly observed the viscous fluid within.

"Scout: Success"

"You notice that the liquid's flow is identical to that of blood, and the telltale scent of rust confirms that it is indeed a cup of blood."

Holy medicine... Blood vial... And priests immune to infection.

All the clues connected at this second banquet, and God Amongst Men was gradually piecing together what the church had been doing and its true purpose.

The priests might be sharing their blood with the people, possibly linked to this holy medicine. From the display of curing the Black Death earlier, those who drank the blood seemed to be healed and temporarily immune to diseases. Could it mean that those who consumed the holy medicine also possessed a similar 'property' within them?

As God Amongst Men organized his thoughts, he shared his deductions with the group, while other players also relayed their discoveries from the banquet to the channel for everyone's benefit.

Blood Acolyte: I did some digging, and the second banquet is a new church tradition. It didn't exist before the Black Death. Since the plague started within the city, all priests have been required to attend the second banquet, held roughly once a week.

Treasurer: So if the priests' blood genuinely has healing powers, their self-healing ability comes from drinking others' blood, making it time-limited? They need to consume it periodically to maintain it? This raises a question: could the holy medicine they receive also originate from someone's blood? Who lies at the end of this trail of blood?

Milk Tea Dog: I wonder if it's the Virgin or the Son... Think about it, from the information we've gathered from the followers, aren't only the Virgin and the Son seemingly immortal so far?

Security Guard: It can't be the Saint Child; he doesn't seem to be excessively anemic.

Tax Collector: The Saint Child has the same high-speed healing ability as the Holy Mother. Perhaps his blood production is also robust. We can't judge by appearance alone; further investigation is needed.

Before the players could continue their discussion, they witnessed the Saint Child, who had been quietly staying by the nun's side, suddenly take advantage of the lively banquet and head straight for God Among Men.

It wasn't a coincidence either. Amos didn't just pass by but stopped right in front of God Among Men, giving him a sweet smile. "What's your name?"

God Among Men hesitated for a moment before realizing it was an excellent opportunity to establish a connection with the Saint Child. He might learn more about Fors's request or the mysterious 'Holy Medicine' from the Saint Child. Squatting down to meet the child's eye level, he replied with dignity, "Lord Saint Child, my name is Simon."

Austin was God Among Men's original card name, while his preset card name was now Simon, so that was the name he used outside.

"Simon," muttered the Saint Child, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Hello, Simon. My name is Amos. Can I ask you for a favor?"

Unbeknownst to him, the mention of his name sent shockwaves through God Among Men's eyes and sparked a frenzy in the player's live streams.

"Amos? The one I was thinking of?"

"Oh my, oh my, it's really you!"

"I wondered why that child seemed so peculiarly adorable. Now I realize I found them strangely familiar."

"Amos was that cute when he was little? I refuse to believe it!"

"He's actually the Messiah Sect's Holy Son? Wait, no wonder the cardinal was so scared of him. With Amos being the Messiah Sect's Holy Son, there seems to be quite a complicated story behind this."

"I get it now! No wonder Fors warned me to stay away from his daughter's child. If it's Amos, I totally understand!"

"Hmm, it's clear that Amos is the mastermind behind this incident."

"Why would Amos seek out God on Earth? There must be something more to this."

The mention of Amos's name instantly shed light on many players' confusions, highlighting just how deeply rooted his role as a troublemaker and antagonist was in their minds.

Lan opened the forum and browsed through the live stream channels, observing the players' reactions with amazement. In this life, Amos hadn't yet displayed the full extent of his destructive power from his previous life, like killing off many players' spouses. However, the players' responses showed that a great antagonist didn't need to do much – their madness had already seeped into people's consciousness.

Noticing Lan chuckling softly at "God on Earth" beside him, Amos looked at "God on Earth" and smiled even brighter. "Is that so?"

Regaining his composure, "God on Earth" wouldn't jump to conclusions like those in the live stream, but still had numerous questions for Amos. He consented, "Of course not, Holy Son. What would you like me to do?"

"Um, take me away from here first, how about we head to the garden? There are too many people around."

Amos led the way, guiding God on Earth, while the nun beside the Saint anxiously wanted to say something but ultimately held back, not daring to stop Amos. The Saint's departure only caught the attention of a few, as most were still occupied with flattering the Pope. The Pope glanced at Amos and God on Earth as they left, narrowing his eyes, then turned to the guests around him. "Excuse me, could you make way?"

He was somewhat concerned about Amos's departure, but coincidentally, a few men in military or suits approached the Pope.

"Hello, Your Holiness, what a delightful gathering."

"Oh, Colonel Bradley," the Pope immediately donned a warm smile. "What a pleasant surprise, you've joined us as well?"

"Yes, the security pressure outside has been immense lately. You know, those reporters are like flies, constantly trying to breach our defenses, searching for some major scoop here," the colonel whispered close to the Pope's ear.

"You're aware that the Orland Daily just landed a story that could topple the President. Their rivals are getting anxious now. Those wolves want to exploit this sudden and lingering outbreak of the Black Death. We're under great pressure too, can't keep the International Doctors out indefinitely. They've already sensed something amiss."

The Pope's smile faded as he looked into the colonel's eyes. "We had an agreement..."

"Of course, I'm aware, but, friend, you're making it difficult for me. While I agreed to seal off the city, it's been too long. You can't keep outsiders completely in the dark. Times have changed, the newspapers, the TV stations, they're all watching, always eager for a big story!"

"I won't keep it sealed forever, just until the Black Death is mostly under control, and that will be soon..."

"Enough of your games!" the Colonel hissed. "Do you remember saying the same thing to me before? Listen, you need to give me a concrete timeline, or else…"

"Or else what?" The Pope's gaze turned stern as he looked at the politicians and military officers surrounding him. "We're all in this together, don't you recall? You must buy me time. Otherwise, when those international doctors and journalists enter the city, they'll discover that all the plague-fighting medications, both in hospitals and pharmacies, have mysteriously vanished. Then where will they think these supplies have gone?"

Observing the silent politicians and officers, the Pope let out a cold snort, straightening his cuffs. He concluded with a solemn assurance, "Only we can save this city. Gentlemen, rest assured, I won't let your wealth and prospects dwindle. As long as you put your faith in me… in God."

With that, he turned to address other high-ranking officials. However, the subtle twitching of his facial muscles betrayed his unease; he wasn't as confident in their obedience as he pretended to be.

Being well aware of the situation, recent reports from bishops across regions had informed the Pope that the plague, which he initially thought could be easily managed, was proving far more difficult to control. The personnel allocation, resource management – tasks typically handled by the government – had been monopolized by the Pope at great expense. Yet, under the Church's administration, the quarantine conditions hadn't improved; they were worsening. Truth be told, the Pope himself dared not review the latest data.

He had viewed the plague as a golden opportunity for the Church to further flourish, but the current situation seemed to be working against him. The condition within the city was abysmal, with countless people succumbing to the illness daily and vast areas being contaminated. Almost no part of the city could be deemed absolutely safe.

The Plague, with its astronomically high mortality rate, was already difficult to treat. Yet, the medicines had been exploited by the upper echelons for profit. Initially, the Pope didn't mind, for he had faith in the 'Holy Elixir.' However, the current scenario seemed far more complicated than he had anticipated.

Of course, the Pope had pondered over the reasons. It could be that he had extracted blood too rapidly from the Saint, thus diluting the sanctity within his body. It could be the lack of devotion among the faithful, or perhaps divine dissatisfaction. The list went on.

Occasionally, in the depths of night, a twinge of regret would surface in the Pope's heart. He felt he had lost his mind, using such a calamity as a stepping stone for progress. But swiftly, his remaining reason would be dispersed by an unknown force. Desire whispered in his mind that he couldn't afford to lose. The Church had invested too much in this opportunity. If they failed to seize control of the city amidst the plague...

...No, if those guarding the outer defenses were to penetrate and discover the true state of the city, the Salvation Society would be finished. The Pope himself was aware of how much wealth the Church had amassed during this disaster. Once the people regained their senses, they would tear the Church apart.

Absolutely not! This church was the fruit of decades of his labor, a testament to the sacrifices he and Marina had made. He couldn't allow it all to crumble.

In his urgency, he instinctively sought out the Saint's whereabouts, only to recall Amos leading an unfamiliar priest away from the banquet. His expression darkened.

"Who was the one who took the Saint away just now?"

The young nun, who had been by the Saint's side, turned pale with fear as she stammered in response, "I-It was a priest. I think his name was Simon."

"Simon," the Pope noted, his face expressionless.

Perhaps the blood's lack of effect was due to these individuals swaying the Saint.

With this thought in mind, he excused himself to use the restroom, heading in the direction where the two had departed.

...

On the other side, God on Earth was being led out of the banquet by Amos. After turning right from the grand hall and walking a distance, they arrived at the garden. The entire courtyard was as vast as a football field, with intertwined green hedges that formed a small maze when viewed from above.

"Saint, where are you taking me?" God on Earth couldn't help but inquire.

Mainly due to the tranquility and lack of people around, even someone as composed as God on Earth couldn't help but entertain the thought that the Saint might want to silence him.

"Haha, I hope not. Amos is just a child now, and I haven't offended him. It shouldn't come to that," he reassured himself.

"Um, let's stop here," Amos said, halting at a small pavilion adorned with flowers. He sat on a stone bench inside and smiled apologetically at God on Earth. "Sorry for using you as an excuse. I'm actually not very comfortable with the banquet atmosphere, so I wanted to take a stroll."

Amos' appearance was truly deceptive, and God on Earth accepted his explanation, softening his expression. "No problem. It's my honor to be in the company of the Saint."

"I don't recognize you. Are you a newly promoted priest?" Amos asked curiously. "I've heard the Church has been sending more people because of the plague in the city. How is the situation there? Is it still severe?"

"Yes, it is," God on Earth replied neutrally. "Doesn't His Holiness, the Saint, know about the plague?"

"No, Father usually doesn't inform me of such matters," Amos lowered his head. As expected, God on Earth seized the opportunity to express surprise. "Your father? Didn't you say you didn't have a father?... Oh, sorry, I meant..."

"It's alright, I know everyone says I'm the child of the Virgin Mary and of God," Amos swung his legs, maintaining an innocent demeanor as he spoke to God on Earth. "Let me tell you a secret, but don't tell anyone else. Actually, my father is His Eminence, the Pope, but he doesn't want me to call him dad, especially when we're in public."

"Damn, what a revelation, yet somehow expected."

"Little Amos is so cute! Haha, such an innocent child, trusting a stranger he meets for the first time like that."

"Fair enough, considering his age."

"Come on, guys, he's the mastermind behind the Day of Chaos!"

"Well, we were just joking around, like calling Amos the source of all evil and such. But surely no one actually believes a child could cause all that chaos, right? The Day of Chaos seemed pretty straightforward to me – it was just the outbreak of the Black Death. I can't fathom why they'd blame a child for a plague."

"But the Cardinal's reaction back then was clearly off."

"You can't seriously suggest that Amos spread the Black Death, can you?"

"Actually, that's not entirely impossible."

The chat was filled with speculations. Lane, the only one who knew the full story, couldn't help but twitch his lips. Sorry, but the Day of Chaos really does have ties to Amos, and the subsequent events are even more brutal than players might think.

But he was still puzzled as to why Amos would seek out God on Earth. Was it just a child's intuition that led him to the main troublemaker among the players?

At that moment, the white puppy lying quietly at Lane's feet knew everything and let out a silent sigh. Ah, the possessiveness of children...

God on Earth: "Alright, I won't tell anyone. But can I ask some questions?"

"You ask, and I'll answer whatever I know for Uncle."

Even the divine being on earth didn't anticipate such a smooth conversation. After a moment's contemplation, he cautiously posed the question that players were most eager to know: "Do you have any idea what that holy medicine is?"

Amos's expression froze, and he pressed his lips together.

Such an obvious bodily reaction...

"I apologize, am I not supposed to know this?"

"..." Amos's fingers trembled slightly as they hung by his sides. Raising his head, his eyes were clearly reddened with fear. "You really want to know?"

The white puppy sighed and stretched out its paw to cover its eyes, leaving Lane puzzled.

"Am I not allowed to know?" God on Earth hesitated.

"It's not that, but their expressions become very odd once they learn the truth," Amos gripped his own arm, trembling. "Father forbade me from telling others because once they find out, it could turn against me."

God on Earth's gaze fell on Amos's hand as he hesitantly said, "Could it be... you?"

Amos nodded, his young voice quivering with emotion. "It really hurts when the knife cuts into your hand, your body..."

"Agh, the first source of blood came from Amos? They bled such a small child?"

"Damn it, I kind of guessed it, but that Pope is a real beast!"

"Amos, turns out he was such an innocent sufferer."

Indeed, this was the typical reaction from most people upon learning the truth, especially from those with compassionate and righteous hearts.

Even the divine presence, in its mortal form, couldn't help but be moved. It mattered not who Amos was or what he would become; at this moment, he was indeed just a child, and children were the moral baseline for all humanity.

"You want to leave..." the divine presence murmured instinctively. Before it could finish, a grim voice interrupted:

"What are you doing?"

The Pope had silently appeared behind the hedge, his gaze chilling as he stared at them, particularly at the divine presence.