Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

When he said he would strike hard, Shen Jue really did strike hard.

With control over electromagnetic forces, Shen Jue developed a new power system called "Magic Rotation of the Nine Heavens".

It was so terrifying that even the founder, Shen Jue, felt horrified.

When he said he would strike hard, Shen Jue really did strike hard.

With his mastery of electromagnetic forces, Shen Jue's newly developed power system, "Nine Heavens of Magical Rotation," has become so terrifying that even its founder, Shen Jue, is horrified.

The first level of magical power rotation is achieved. When the cultivator throws a punch, the air in front of the fist is instantly blasted into a vacuum channel.

With a single punch, a fully loaded mining truck weighing over 100 tons can be blown into countless flying fragments.

A cultivator at the first level of the Magic Power Rotation Realm experiences a dramatic increase in density and molecular structure in their entire body's muscles, bones, and skin under the influence of the rotating magic power, resulting in a hardness exceeding that of special alloy steel.

A regular armor-piercing round only leaves a white mark on the body.

What's even more terrifying is that the spiritual will, forged through countless trials, carries within it a chilling and soul-destroying will that is generated by the transformation of magical power.

A single punch or kick can deliver a solid beating to intangible evil spirits and ghosts.

Ordinary armed forces are practically useless against them.

Light weapons, heavy machine guns, and rocket launchers came one after another, but they couldn't even scratch the skin.

Only a devastating strike of high yield thermobaric or tactical nuclear weapon level can pose a real threat to the lives of cultivators in this realm.

The magical power rotates to the second heaven.

A cultivator at the second level can unleash a punch with force that travels a thousand meters, capable of shattering a small mountain with a single blow, sending thousands of tons of rubble raining down like a torrential downpour.

Their physical bodies were so strong that they could bathe in lava without changing their expression, and their bones were as clear and lustrous as diamond and glass.

When the magical power circulates within the body, iron objects within a kilometer radius around the person will automatically levitate and tremble.

The spiritual will transforms into a tangible domain of will. Hellish demons and thousand-year-old vengeful ghosts are swept away by this domain of will and will soon be annihilated.

Conventional military strikes have become a complete joke. Bunker buster bombs and thermobaric weapons bombarded them one after another, but even their protective magic field could not be shattered.

Only a direct hit from a large tactical nuclear weapon could possibly tear apart that visible magical field.

The magical power rotates through the third heaven.

A cultivator from the third level unleashed a punch, the force of which penetrated the earth's layers, causing the ground within a radius of tens of kilometers to ripple and churn like waves.

Skyscrapers will be tossed into the air like building blocks and then crashed down.

A small city can be completely transformed by this one punch.

Their physical bodies have reached an unbelievable level; even if thrown onto the surface of the sun, they can withstand several breaths without dying.

When the magic power is activated, the clouds at an altitude of ten thousand meters can be torn apart into a huge vortex, and lightning in the rain pours down like a waterfall.

The spiritual will of a practitioner can transform into a sky-covering canopy.

Under this celestial canopy, any weaker demons, monsters, or evil spirits would scream and be obliterated into nothingness.

Only a central bombardment by a large tactical nuclear weapon could possibly cause a trickle of blood to escape from the corner of their mouths.

Of course, the premise is that you have to be able to lock onto a humanoid monster that moves at a speed of more than several Mach and can crush missiles in mid-air with your bare hands.

A cultivator at the first level of magical power is nearly invincible in conventional warfare, while a cultivator at the second level can single-handedly annihilate a small to medium-sized country.

A cultivator whose magical power reaches the third level is capable of directly confronting the entire military force of modern human civilization.

However, in Shen Jue's Nine Heavens of Magical Power Rotation system, this level of attainment is only the first three heavens.

It's the most basic of the basics.

The cultivators of the sixth level of the Heavenly Realm were so impressive that even Shen Jue was amazed by their performance.

As for Shen Jue's current level of cultivation?

After a night of cultivation, he had only barely managed to reach the third level of the Magic Power Transformation Realm.

This cultivation system, derived from electromagnetic force and magical power, also allows cultivators who have reached the second or third level to cosplay Magneto from the Marvel Universe.

"Actually, in my perception," Shen Jue had already taken Jianzi away from that desolate town.

The two flew in the sky in the direction Shen Jue had determined.

"I can sense the location and position of that thing."

"But to my surprise, there was also a large number of humans there at the same time."

Golden lightning also appeared around Shen Jue's body.

In terms of realm alone, he is indeed at the third level of the Magic Power Transformation Realm.

However, his talent, multiplied by 1800 times, along with the power and memories of many of Shen Jue's, gave him power far surpassing that of cultivators at the third level of the Mana Transformation Realm.

"Unlike my trip to Japan," Shen Jue said to Jianzi, who was still carefully comprehending the power within her body in the night sky, without turning around.

"The evil spirits and monsters on the American continent are so numerous that humans have retreated to the cities."

"There really are demons from hell in the wilderness."

"This area is already very close to the plane where Hell is located."

"The awakening of that thing could very well turn this entire American continent into half of a spiritual prison."

"At that point, even I will have a headache."

The clouds in the night sky were torn into fluffy pieces, rolling and retreating to both sides.

Shen Jue carried Jianzi as they soared through the sky, with an endless wilderness below and occasional glimpses of phosphorescent lights flashing across the ground.

After a brief silence, the two passed through a closed array barrier without any hindrance.

"We've arrived," Shen Jue's voice came at just the right time.

He descended from the clouds with Jianzi in his arms, and the terrain beneath his feet gradually became clear.

This is a vast primeval forest, with coniferous trees densely packed like black spears between the mountain ridges.

In a small clearing at a bend in the river, a lone wooden house stands.

The wooden house was old, and dark green moss covered the log walls.

Two SUVs were parked in front of the house, their bodies splattered with mud.

A tent was crookedly pitched nearby, and the campfire was almost dead, with only a few dark red embers flickering in the night wind.

Shen Jue and Jian Zi hovered in mid-air, their gazes sweeping across the entire area.

His senses penetrated the walls of the cabin, allowing him to see everything that was happening inside.

They penetrated the soil and saw the dense underground passages and rooms, like anthills.

And that basement filled with evil mediums.

"Interesting," Shen Jue said softly, and landed with Jianzi in the open space directly in front of the wooden house.

There were five college students inside the wooden house.

They were sitting around the sofa and floor in the living room, with beer cans, chip bags and an open old notebook on the coffee table in the middle.

The fire was burning brightly, and the interior furnishings were typical of an old-fashioned American vacation cabin.

A deer head specimen hung on the wall, a double-barreled shotgun stood in the corner, and the air was filled with the cheap cologne scent of young people.

There were five people in the wooden house.

Kurt, the quarterback of the football team, was blond and blue-eyed, with a square jaw like a brick. He wore a tight T-shirt, and his muscles bulged under the fabric.

Jules, the cheerleader and Kurt's girlfriend, has dyed her hair blonde, painted her lips bright pink, and has a body so hot it looks like it was sculpted by the Creator with a ruler.

Horden, wearing black-rimmed glasses, held a book in his hand, but his gaze was clearly not focused on the pages.

Marty, with his messy brown curly hair and a faded hoodie, was squatting by the fireplace throwing firewood into it.

The last one was Diana. She sat in a rocking chair a little further away from the others, holding a sketchbook in her arms, the pencil making a soft scratching sound on the paper.

They were the entirety of a meticulously planned sacrificial ritual.

They knew nothing about it.

Kurt is telling a horror story about the cabin.

He lowered his voice and, in a deliberately sinister tone, described how a family that lived here decades ago was massacred on a certain night.

He said the murderer has not been found yet, and that hunters in the area say there is something in this forest and that the cabin is cursed.

"Don't you find it strange?" Horden closed the book, giving up reading.

"Since we got here, no one's cell phones have had a signal."

"The GPS is malfunctioning too."

"It's not that there's no power, it's just that there's no signal."

"It's normal to have no signal in the forest," Jules said without looking up.

"No," Horden shook his head, "the satellite phone has no signal either, which is not normal."

Marty took a swig of beer and let out a loud burp: "So what are you worried about?"

"Afraid of being captured by Bigfoot and made his wife?"

"Relax, the original owner of this house even left us the key to the cellar."

As he spoke, he picked up a rusty iron key from the coffee table and twirled it between his fingers.

They found the key in the cabin, right in the most conspicuous place, as if waiting for someone to come and get it.

In a control room deep underground, a group of people in white coats are watching everything through hidden cameras.

The control room resembled a giant studio, with monitor screens covering all four walls, each corresponding to a corner inside or outside the wooden cabin.

Dozens of technicians sat in front of the control panel, which was covered with buttons and knobs that could precisely control every variable of the environment surrounding the cabin.

Temperature, humidity, the concentration of odor molecules, and even the amount of aphrodisiac pheromones released in the air.

Standing in the center of the control room was a middle-aged woman in a gray suit. Her name was Sitson, and she was in charge of the project.

Her expression was as calm as a granite block. She held a cup of black coffee that had gone cold in her hand, and her gaze swept back and forth between the monitor screens, as if she were reviewing an unimportant quarterly report.

"The status of the offering?" she asked.

"All five sacrificial offerings are in place," a young technician nearby said, typing rapidly on his keyboard.

"Physiological indicators are normal, and baseline psychological data has been collected."

"The Fool touched the summoned creature five minutes ago; the first phase of the induction is complete."

"Release pheromones, increase the dosage to level three," Sitson said, taking a sip of his cold coffee.

"Prioritize the movement of sluts and athletes into the cellar."

The order was carried out silently.

The invisible gas in the pipes is pressurized and released, slowly seeping into the room through micropores in the walls of the wooden house.

A colorless and odorless pheromone began to diffuse in the air, with an effective range precise to a three-meter radius centered on the sofa.

Kurt suddenly felt a little hot, so he pulled Jules closer to him and his hand unconsciously slid to her waist.

Jules' breathing quickened slightly. She tossed her phone aside and leaned back to kiss Kurt on the neck.

The temperature between the two rose rapidly, but no one present thought it was abnormal.

Horden awkwardly looked away, pretending to study the deer head specimen on the wall.

Marty rolled his eyes, picked up his beer bottle, stood up, and walked towards the window.

Diana continued drawing, the tip of her pencil sketching a twisted old tree on the paper, with a faint human face on the trunk. She was unaware of what she was drawing as she drew.

Everything is proceeding according to the script.

The five young people in the cabin in the woods were its sacrifices.

The order must be precise, the rituals must be flawless, and each person's manner of death must correspond precisely to an ancient symbol.

The harlot dies first, then the athlete, the scholar, the fool, and finally the virgin.

She could choose to die or not, but she would have to suffer a torment far deeper than death.

Five lives, five sacrifices, can soothe the thing that is about to awaken back into slumber.

Every year, this secret society conducts the same sacrifices in similar institutions around the world.

A girls' high school in Tokyo, an abandoned mental hospital in Stockholm, and a mission station deep in the Brazilian jungle.

Each location corresponds to a sealing node, and each sealing node requires a fixed amount of sacrifice to maintain its operation.

This year, it was this cabin's turn, and the turn of these five people, on the American continent.

The people in the control room didn't realize they were killing people.

They felt it was a necessary sacrifice; trading the lives of five people for the safety of billions was a worthwhile trade no matter how you looked at it.

They discussed death in the tone of business reports, packaged the massacre in project management terms, and hid the stench of blood behind the chemical formulas of pheromones.

They even set up betting odds on which of the sacrificial offerings would collapse first.

In the open space directly in front of the wooden house, Shen Jue withdrew his senses.

He had his hands in his denim pockets, and golden electric sparks flowed slowly around him, completely erasing his and Miko's presence from all surveillance equipment.

On the screen in the control room, the open space was completely empty, not even a single flying insect.

"Let's go," Shen Jue said to Jianzi, lifting her foot towards the steps of the wooden house. "Let's go inside."

His footsteps landed on the wooden steps without making a sound.

Shen Jue waved his hand gently, and the door of the wooden house was pushed open by the electric charge magic.

The sweet, aphrodisiac scent in the air was shattered and completely dissipated.

Shen Jue appeared inside the cabin in the woods with Jianzi.

He observed the surprised expressions on the faces of everyone present.

After all, the sudden appearance of two handsome young men and beautiful young women dressed as cowboys had given the five people in the cabin in the woods quite a fright.

Kurt sprang up from the sofa and instinctively shielded Jules behind him.

His muscles tensed, his shoulders arched forward, and he assumed a standard rugby defensive stance.

Jules let out a sharp, short scream.

Diana's pencil rolled from her fingers, leaving a long, crooked black line on the sketchbook, like the tail of a snake.

Shen Jue smiled and said, "Good evening, young people."

"Looks like I arrived just in time."