Please don't question multi-week players

Chapter 393. Crisis in the World of Talent
"pat..."

When Jiang Jianxin emerged from the treatment chamber, the first thing he saw was the words he intuitively recalled in his mind:

You're awake.

The nurse pushed her bed towards the ward. The grid-like ceiling slowly swept across her vision. Jiang Jianxin didn't want to speak, so she consulted her intuition in her mind:

Why did you suddenly reappear?

Intuition bluntly replied:

The side effects of the medication you took yesterday have kicked in, and you'll be mute for the entire morning. I was worried you'd feel lonely and uncomfortable not being able to speak, so I came to keep you company.

Its omniscience allowed it to perceive the past earlier than Jiang Jianxin could learn from others, and it told her about this matter in advance so that she wouldn't be too surprised.

No wonder Dr. Sa told me yesterday that taking too much of that medicine is bad for your health.

The hospital bed had already been moved to the ward. Jiang Jianxin stared at the ceiling and talked to his intuition:

I thought it was a euphemism, but I didn't expect the side effects to be so severe.

Yes. He's a good doctor, with a conscience. He didn't cheat you; he only gave you half a pill, and the dosage was well controlled.

"I answered intuitively."

"It's alright, let's talk. I happen to have some new insights to share."

【whats the matter? 】

Jiang Jianxin asked.

The Rose Group has taken care of the matter with that shady restaurant you visited yesterday.

"I answered intuitively."

After Jun Yunqi gave the order yesterday, Du Lan immediately began the operation.

So, at the crack of dawn the next day, the Vatican found a witness. The man claimed to have seen a person in a white robe enter the restaurant, and when he came out, the restaurant was seeping with blood.

On this continent, white robes are a symbol of the followers of the Temple of Light. Who was responsible for last night's massacre in the Black Restaurant seems self-evident.

Meanwhile, rumors began to circulate that "believers of the Temple of Light had infiltrated the domain of the God of Fire and wreaked havoc." Panic quietly spread.

There are many doubts about the fact that the murderer is a follower of the God of Light. For example, although the murderer wore a white robe, he may not necessarily be a follower of the God of Light. He may have been in disguise. Also, there are obvious marks on the victim's body from being cut by a sharp object, which does not seem to be the work of magic.

The Vatican held an emergency meeting overnight to address these questions one by one.

However, after discussing it overnight, they ultimately decided to bury the matter as soon as possible.

The reason is simple: they know the character of their colleagues. If they don't do human things, do the believers of the God of Light do human things?
If this was not done by a follower of the God of Light, then it will be easy to handle. But if it was indeed done by a follower of the God of Light, then seeking justice will require facing pressure from the God of Light.

The God of Fire is inferior to the God of Light in both strength and status, and they wouldn't dare to pursue the God of Light if they were to actually do so.

On this continent, there are clear class distinctions between people and between gods. As a member of the God of Light, the God of Fire dares not offend the chief.

Therefore, with this in mind, the Vulcan Church, seeing that several clues they had uncovered pointed to the believers of light, feared that digging deeper would only lead to more trouble and backfire, causing them to actually confront the God of Light. So they decided to simply gloss over the matter.

As for those few dead believers—the Vulcan Domain has no shortage of believers.

All that's left to do is appease the public and let the matter fade away.

So, early that morning, the Vatican hastily issued a new notice regarding the illegal restaurant incident from a few days prior. The notice was evasive, offering various assurances that the culprit would be found—all empty promises. Privately, the witnesses previously recruited were also released.

Du Lan's use of rose intelligence to shift the blame was brilliantly executed. Meanwhile, at the Holy See...

The morning light was cut through by the tall stained glass windows, casting it onto the long table and forming patches of floating light.

Tiny dust particles floated in the air, slowly swirling in the beam of light.

The figures sitting around the long oak table were all shrouded in wide white robes, but the robes could not hide the unusual outlines beneath—some had strangely bulging shoulders and backs, as if carrying an invisible weight; some had arms hanging at an inhumanly stiff angle, with the cuffs occasionally revealing bluish-gray, calloused skin; and some had swollen blood vessels faintly visible on their necks, wriggling under the skin like earthworms.

In the silence, only the rustling of fabric and their heavy, slow breathing could be heard.

The main seat at the far end of the long table stood tall, its back carved with a twisted sun emblem. The figure seated upon it was exceptionally large, its bulky body almost filling the entire seat.

A pair of goat horns, even thicker than those of a mature bull, spiraled upwards from his forehead, forcefully tearing two holes in his white hood. The rough horns gleamed oilily in the light. The hood cast a deep shadow over the upper half of his face, revealing only his high cheekbones and thin lips pressed into a straight line.

He is the priest of light, and also the pope of this place.

He slowly raised one hand, which was pale and swollen, with large knuckles, thick and curved nails, and a dark yellow color.

The Pope tapped twice on the smooth tabletop with the protruding knuckle of his middle finger.

Knock. Knock.

The sound wasn't loud, but it silenced all the subtle noises.

The meeting begins.

The heads of each region reported in turn with hoarse, indistinct, or high-pitched voices.

When the Pope on the throne mentioned the recent conflict in the Vulcan Realm that had shaken many pantheons, he merely waved his hand almost imperceptibly, his fingertips tracing an impatient arc in the air. The believers immediately fell silent and quickly moved on to the next matter.

"Regarding the plan to plunder the world of talent, the Holy Son of Light has sent word that he has successfully infiltrated the television station and become its current leader."

At the end of the long table, the pair of enormous goat horns twitched slightly.

In the shadows beneath the hood, two tiny, crimson points suddenly shone—his eyes. His tightly pressed lips parted, slowly revealing a satisfied smile.

Other believers nearby, after hearing this, asked curiously:

"Your Holiness...this is..."

This happened very suddenly; the Pope had never mentioned it at the meeting.

A few days ago, when the world of talent and the world of wizards merged, the long-silent Chief of the Death Order suddenly appeared as a phantom, erected a shield, and enclosed the entire world of talent as his domain.

They had thought the God of Light had no chance, but according to the report they had just heard, the Pope and the God seemed to be still pondering something.

The priest of light smiled, his ram's horns trembling, and he looked sharply at his subordinates, saying:
"Although the God of Death has taken over the World of Talents, this is only temporary."

"As far as I know, the God of Death and Silence, as the supreme god of the order of death, cannot be classified into the realm of faith for humankind."

"Because if a long-term domain is demarcated, it can only bring gloom, decay, death, misfortune, or even disease to the domain."

The priest of light raised his swollen hand and slowly, steadily touched the massive horn on his forehead, the movement carrying a sense of ritual. Finally, he tapped the table and said:

"If nothing unexpected happens, the God of Death's demarcation is only for a short period of time, in order to buy some buffer time for the humans in that world."

He withdrew his hand, clasped his hands together in front of his abdomen, and a cold, enormous smile appeared on his face:

"Once its barrier is removed... won't our opportunity arrive?"

(End of this chapter)