Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

As Wu Heng spoke, the last wisp of black smoke belonging to the Demon Prince slowly dissipated from his fingertips, merging into his test tube. He shook his hand expressionlessly, as if he had merely swatted a bothersome fly.

However, Wu Heng possesses a perception beyond that of ordinary people, like a precise radar, clearly capturing the ever-increasing number of 'views' coming from all directions.

These gazes are not human.

Some of them are cold and have a foul stench of sulfur and blood, like venomous snakes from the cracks of a sewer; they must come from hell.

Some are holy and ethereal, yet they carry an unquestionable sense of judgment, like an invisible searchlight that sweeps lightly over the clouds, church spires, and even over some devout passersby—this is the gaze of heaven.

Their gaze did not avert, perhaps believing that a human could not possibly detect this distant spying.

Wu Heng's appearance was like a boulder suddenly thrown into a seemingly calm lake with turbulent undercurrents. His act of forcibly extracting the power of the Demon Prince has already attracted the attention of the giant crocodile at the bottom of the lake and the birds of prey in the sky.

This attention is filled with curiosity, greed, fear, and undisguised scrutiny and calculation.

The intense feeling of being watched, like a persistent ailment, came from all directions, from the sky to the ground, penetrating everywhere. Wu Heng didn't care; he had anticipated this before taking action, and it was an inevitable price to pay.

He knew perfectly well what was going on, and even somewhat hoped that the waters would be stirred up even more.

The demons here have been dealt with. The three turned around and entered the safe house they were temporarily renting.

Inside, Dean and Sam were frantically writing at their desks, either quickly flipping through old demon hunter notebooks with yellowed, musty pages or staring intently at their laptop screens, searching for forbidden knowledge circulating on the dark web.

The air was thick with the smells of anxiety, dust, and strong caffeine.

"How is it?" Wu Heng's voice broke the silence in the room.

Sam abruptly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot but gleaming with an almost obsessive light: "We've found a lot. There are more ways to summon demons than we thought. But most of them are extremely dangerous and require specific mediums or sacrifices."

Dean slammed his notebook shut, revealing a blurry inverted cross on the cover: "Damn, these things are all weirder than the last, but we've picked out a few that are relatively 'common'."

"The first target," he looked at Wu Heng with a determined gaze, "the Crossroads Demon. Legend has it that they are in charge of handling all kinds of contract transactions and may know the most about the flow and ownership of contracts!"

"Very good." Wu Heng nodded, approving of this direction. "What preparations are needed?"

“Black candles, cat bone powder, a clay pot filled with soil, and…it has to be done at the crossroads.” Sam quickly rattled off the materials, his brow furrowed. “Bobby might have these in stock, but it’ll take time to get them delivered. Or…” He glanced at Dean.

“Or we can split up and look for the local black market now,” Dean suggested, clearly the brothers had already discussed it. “Lore, you…”

"I'm going to get some fresh air," Wu Heng said casually. "You guys take care of the materials."

He didn't care about any of that; he needed to temporarily escape this tense atmosphere and also personally 'experience' the increasingly intense undercurrents within the city. Those gazes were becoming somewhat brazen.

He chose a relatively quiet, old-fashioned coffee shop on a street corner, sat by the window, and ordered a black coffee without sugar.

Pedestrians hurried past the window, and sunlight streamed through the glass, creating a play of light and shadow, but it offered no warmth whatsoever.

The feeling of being watched seemed to lessen slightly, not disappear, but become more covert and cautious.

Just then, a middle-aged man dressed in a well-fitting khaki trench coat, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and with a gentle demeanor, naturally sat down opposite Wu Heng, holding a latte.

"Good afternoon. The blueberry muffins here are very good. I recommend you try them." The man smiled, his tone naturally familiar yet just right, not offensive, but carrying an undeniable sense of closeness.

Wu Heng raised his eyes and swept his gaze over the other person with a calm expression. There was no energy fluctuation or inhuman aura. He was just like an ordinary, perhaps overly enthusiastic, psychologist or university professor.

The man seemed completely unconcerned by Wu Heng's indifference and began to talk to himself, discussing everything from the origin of coffee beans to the weather, and then seemingly unintentionally veer into the mental stress and psychological trauma of modern people.

His words carried a peculiar rhythm and suggestive quality. His fingers would occasionally tap rhythmically on the table, and his gaze was focused and profound, attempting to guide Wu Heng's thoughts and conduct some kind of subtle psychological probing and hypnosis.

"Many people have a huge void in their hearts, longing to be filled, longing to find belonging and meaning, don't they?" the man said gently, his gaze seemingly piercing through Wu Heng's eyes and reaching the depths of his soul. "Especially those who possess extraordinary abilities but have lost their way, you need guidance, you need faith to lead you."

Wu Heng picked up his coffee, took a sip, and the bitter taste spread across his tongue.

He put down his cup with a crisp sound, interrupting the other person's seemingly gentle but actually barbed words.

“Your performance was brilliant,” Wu Heng said in a flat tone, as if stating an objective fact, “but the light you were trying to hide was too dazzling.”

The man's smile froze on his face for a moment, though it was only for a split second before he quickly regained his composure, but the shock he felt at that instant was unmistakable.

He pushed up his glasses and suddenly chuckled, no longer with that gentle pretense, but with a hint of knowingness and arrogance in his laughter.
“Indeed. The revelation was correct. You are more perceptive than we imagined.” He leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, and the surrounding air seemed to become heavy. “I am not a psychologist. I am a hermit serving the Lord. I came here because I received a revelation—to find you and guide you.”

His eyes sharpened, filled with a fervent sense of mission and sincerity: "This world is about to face a great catastrophe, and darkness will sweep everything away."

"Join us, join the fight against darkness. This is your only way to survive, but before that, you need to evolve and learn."

"Come with me, temporarily isolate yourselves from this filthy world, go to the most secluded holy place in the church to meditate and wait for the right moment when the end times begin. Now is not the time for the apocalypse to descend."

Wu Heng looked at him as if he were looking at a comical clown: "Fighting against the darkness, the only way to survive? And then hiding like a gopher, waiting for someone else's 'right moment'?"

He slowly shook his head: "I refuse." (End of Chapter)