Sherlock Holmes is not a warp god.

The execution chamber of the Sun Punishment has walls made of pure white rock that can withstand extremely high temperatures.

On the torture bed tilted at 60°, even in Worcester's pupils, bound by straitjackets, there were threads crawling.

At this moment, this body no longer belonged to him, but had become an appendage of Furen.

That is why his eyes were qualified to see some things.

Neither light nor darkness, neither true nor false.

All matter, space, and time are insignificant, like fleeting bubbles and illusions; only the deity before us exists eternally here.

In normal perception, it appears that the planets of the solar system revolve around the sun, but in reality, the sun is traveling at an astonishing speed through the vast universe, and only those that can keep up with it are qualified to become its planets.

In Worcester's understanding, this deity is the sun, the center of the universe, and the anchor point for all dimensions, including subspace.

As for the loving father?

Sorry, we're not familiar with each other.

This is what a true God should be like. He is unparalleled in reality, and eternally unchanging in truth.

When facing God, one should dedicate everything, even to the point of death.

If a scholar familiar with the divine were here, knowing Worcester's condition, they would surely confirm it. The moment Worcester saw this "being," his eyes became the medium; he was "contaminated"... no, it should be said that he was blessed.

It's not about amplifying one's true nature, nor about relying on one's own desires to forcibly alter one's perception to believe in other beings; this is a heresy even more bizarre than evil gods.

Unfortunately, no one will know.

Warden Marvolo, a very taciturn man, walked up to Worcester, bent down, and whispered in his ear in a slightly hoarse, bubbly voice: "Who told you about the ritual for advancing your abilities?"

The question itself is not important; even if Worcester hadn't said anything, everything about him would have been found out long ago.

"They're from Scania..."

And the name Worcester mentioned next was exactly what Marvolo expected. The style of the ceremony was so obvious; it was easy to guess which country the person came from.

Ignoring what Worcester said, Marvolo stared intently at Worcester's condition with his pale brown eyes.

Marvolo held his position for more than ten seconds, while Worcester remained unchanged.

His pupils were unfocused, his muscles relaxed, and he just stared blankly at Fren.

Then another person continued to watch Fren. Marvolo began to look Fren up and down with an extremely serious gaze, and the same thought that came to mind as that of the Director of the National Security Bureau, Weyman Wilke.

Why do strange things always seem to happen to the Sherlock Holmes family?

Just moments before Worcester was about to speak, a curse-like power broke through from the subspace into reality, descending upon Worcester and attempting to engulf his consciousness.

This is a common contract, and breach of contract will result in different penalties. The moment you open the contract, you have already breached it.

This is the highest level of contract, and the price is death.

But at this moment, he was blessed. The radiance of [Extinction of Leaks], the instant he saw the deity, reflected in Worcester's consciousness along his gaze.

Worcester cannot be allowed to die at this time through such underhanded means.

......

"nailed it."

Fren breathed a sigh of relief. Copying the record of [Digestion Enhancement] took more than an hour, but it wasn't a big problem, since Warden Marvolo hadn't said anything.

He had naturally heard the warden's question to Worcester, but Fren didn't say anything more.

"Thank you very much for your help, Your Excellency the Warden." Withdrawing his tentacles, Furen thanked Marvolo.

The tentacles retracted, but the holes they left behind remained, and every inch of Worcester's internal tissue was bleeding. It was only through his own tenacious vitality that Worcester was able to continue living.

As the pain became clearer, Worcester's eyes gradually cleared as well.

Through the combined action of the brain's self-protection mechanisms and memory system, Worcester passively forgot memories that would overload his brain; the image of the deity occupied too much memory, and no one could remember it.

But his other memories were unaffected, and Worcester realized what had just happened.

"No......"

Worcester struggled violently again, blood seeping from every pore on his body. But before he could finish speaking, the warden glanced at him, and the blood inside Worcester turned to ice, blocking his vocal cords.

[A man who has experienced countless meat grinder-like battlefields, weary of war and despising those who disrupt peace, works here.]

Fren had already noticed Warden Marvolo's entry; someone with such an entry was certainly no ordinary person.

Warden Marvolo had Fren taken away, then quietly watched from the small window as Worcester was about to be subjected to the flames of the God of Light.

He wanted to make sure that Worcester wouldn't utter a single word before he died.

The warden had no idea how this Francisco Holmes could disregard the contract. He was a scholar or researcher, neither curious nor interested in investigating. He only knew that this ability would surely come in handy in the future.

"This Mr. Holmes himself probably doesn't know. No one else should know until this ability is needed."

The person involved actually knew, but soon forgot.

Like a spot of light focused by a magnifying glass, it shone directly onto Worcester from the ceiling.

In just one second, a white, illusory flame ignited.

Before the ice had even melted, Worcester's lungs were burned through, rendering him unable to speak properly. He wasn't strong enough to withstand the power of the God of Light head-on.

When the iron door to the execution chamber was opened again, only ashes remained inside the straitjacket.

The video camera next to him recorded the entire process of him turning into ashes.

This video will be broadcast seamlessly after the encrypted channel finishes playing the recording of Worcester's trial.

In this hard-won era of peace, this man not only ate people, but also ate ordinary people without any psychological burden, causing nearly a thousand people in an entire neighborhood to die violent deaths.

The warden felt Worcester had died too easily.

-

As he drove away from Azkaban prison, Fren thought about the skills he had recorded.

Muscles, senses, digestion.

It's quite comprehensive; the next thing to consider is how to apply it to myself.

Knowing the blueprints is just a prerequisite; breaking ground is the real path to becoming stronger.

There will still be death row inmates in Azkaban, but they won't necessarily be flesh-and-blood type Devil Fruit users.

Furen plans to go and take a look then; if he can record the abilities of other lineages, it will be excellent news.

For now, let's go back and try to strengthen ourselves.