Crossover anime/manga, immediately transmigrated after death

“I often fail at my job as a maid, breaking plates, staining the carpet, brewing tea at the wrong time…” Aisha counted her sins on her fingers, “but he always showed an attitude of ‘I can’t do anything with you,’ and silently forgave me.”

"Innocent."

"Huh?"

“You should have a tattoo on your face or body to prove your crime,” the cult leader said coldly. “That way you will remember your mistakes.”

Aisha shrank back slightly, but quickly perked up: "However, I heard he suffered a lot in the past, so he's especially lenient with people like me. And sometimes... sometimes he just stares at me, as if he has something to say."

The cult leader paused, his hand still holding the teacup. "You mean, he harbors secret feelings for someone or something?"

“Yes! Master looked very distressed at that time…” Aisha clenched her fist. “Yesterday I suddenly realized that he must see me as a little sister!”

The cult leader didn't speak, his gaze passing over Aisha's shoulder and landing in the direction of the bar entrance.

“Thinking about it this way, everything makes sense.” Aisha continued her reasoning. “My master must have had a deceased sister in the past, and that person looked exactly like me. So I’m absolutely right! That’s why my master took special care of me, just like he took care of his sister!”

"I see." The cult leader put down his teacup, his tone calm. "You said your name is Aisha, right?"

"Yes, is there something you need, eldest sister?"

“I’m not your older sister.” The cult leader looked to Aisha’s side and behind her. “Also, that gentleman over there, could he be someone you know?”

Elsa paused for a moment.

"He seemed to be glaring at you meaningfully just now," the cult leader added.

Elsa turned around following her gaze.

There was someone standing at the entrance of the bar.

He had silver-white hair, looked to be around twenty-five years old, wore a dark trench coat, had a slender figure, and an expression on his face...

how to say.

It seems someone owes him a huge sum of money and was just caught partying in the street.

"Really? Who could it be? Wait, Master!?"

Elsa's voice rose an octave.

The silver-haired youth ignored Aisha's exclamation and walked straight in, his gaze fixed on the cult leader from the moment he entered, like a hunter spotting prey worth hunting.

The cult leader was also looking at him.

The two stared at each other for about three seconds.

"So that's how it is. The leader of the Demonic Sect is actually a woman."

"I never expected that what I was looking for would be found on such a ferocious wolf," the cult leader said calmly. "Iron Wheel King did mention that there are people here similar to me."

"First published on 705u.com - Book Club"

The leader continued, “I came to this barbaric land because of his dying wish. I was entrusted by the Iron Wheel King to reclaim this divine treasure stolen by the British. The relics of Yamantaka should not be left in this barbaric land.”

The Marquis nodded knowingly, and took a short pestle from his coat pocket. Though only about the length of an adult's forearm, its aura was impossible to ignore.

"I see. Not long ago, a magician calling himself Brener came to challenge me with this thing."

The Marquis glanced casually at Aisha: "I see. Is this maid one of your subordinates? No wonder she has so many strange characteristics; now I finally understand. Being under the command of the Demonic Cult Leader makes a lot of things make sense."

"What are you talking about?" The cult leader frowned even more. "This girl can neutralize my magic. I originally thought she was your maid, so it's not surprising."

"..."

"..."

The two exchanged a glance.

“There are no such people among the followers of the Holy Church,” the leader added. “I also do not intend to admit such people into the church in the future.”

“I don’t have a subordinate like that either,” Marquis Vauban said calmly. “She’s just an employer.”

The two of them fell silent for a moment.

An awkward silence.

At this moment, Aisha raised her hand and said weakly, "Um, my identity was explained when I was hired..."

Am I misunderstanding something?

"Perhaps I was too reckless."

The two simultaneously looked away, choosing to ignore their earlier speculations and pretending nothing had happened.

The Marquis slowly said, "Master, I have a suggestion."

"Please feel free to speak."

"I would like to invite you to my residence to discuss the matter of the divine artifact in detail. What do you think? Resolving everything here seems too hasty, doesn't it?"

"Hehehe, I would never normally agree to such a request."

Sensing the Marquis's unspoken meaning, the leader smiled.

Of course, talks were not their goal; this is the same as the Western custom of "duel by dropping gloves."

But none of that mattered. Zhang Yang had already made his way to the bar entrance using his "invisible" talent and slipped away from that unfortunate place.

"First published on 705u.com - Book Club"

Clearly, this world is not a low-level martial arts world, but a high-level martial arts world.

Or rather, a world where superhumans roam everywhere.

The cult leader and the marquis were people he couldn't afford to offend, so if he didn't leave now, when would he?

"I, Luo Hao, am not one to be ignorant of etiquette. How could I refuse an invitation from such an important person as you? When would be a suitable time for me to visit?" The leader seemed unaware that Zhang Yang had left.

The Marquis chuckled softly, “Let’s set the date for tomorrow. Of course, I wouldn’t mind paying a visit to your residence.”

"No need for you to trouble yourself. I'll stake the honor of my title as the Supreme Martial Arts Master on personally paying you a visit." The sect leader withdrew his gaze and casually reached out to grab something.

"Let me take care of things here first."

Zhang Yang, who was preparing to escape with all his might, didn't even know what had happened. He found himself sitting back in his original seat when everything went blurry.

"As I just said, cut off one of your little fingers as punishment. Do you want to do it yourself, or should I help you?" The cult leader's voice was icy, as if he were urging him on.

Zhang Yang: "..."

No, can't you just ignore me?

White talent is indeed unreliable.

Zhang Yang faced the leader's gaze again, his mind racing. He then cupped his hands in greeting and said earnestly, "Leader, please forgive me. My cutting my hair was not out of disrespect for the Han Chinese tradition, but to serve as a substitute for the leader."

"Acting leader?" The cult leader asked, somewhat puzzled.

As the leader of the martial arts alliance, he was naturally aware of the story of cutting off one's hair to replace one's head. At this moment, he simply looked at him, signaling him to continue.

"The Han Chinese tradition has been severed for a long time, usurped by foreigners, and is in a state of utter ruin." Zhang Yang's voice deepened. "Foreigners have usurped the Han Chinese way of change and have turned around to harm China. As a Han Chinese, I am truly ashamed before my ancestors. I can only cut off my hair to replace my head and offer sacrifices to my ancestors."

Chapter Twenty-Two: She Has Divine Power

The air in the bar was silent for a few seconds.

The cult leader put down his teacup, glanced at Zhang Yang, and gestured for him to continue.

Zhang Yang took a deep breath, his mind racing.

The problem he is facing now is:

How can you use your words to save your little finger from a cult leader who is so ruthless that he'd cut off your toes at the drop of a hat?

The answer is—nonsense.

He mentally encouraged himself.

it has started.

"Your Excellency, please allow me to speak." Zhang Yang cupped his hands in greeting, his expression solemn. "I have been a merchant in Europe for several years, traveling all over the Western countries. What I have seen and heard has been shocking."

"The technology, culture, and systems of Western countries... were all stolen."

The cult leader raised an eyebrow slightly: "Stolen?"

"It's a stolen Zhonghua cigarette."

Zhang Yang's tone was resolute: "Does the leader know how prosperous China was during the Yongle reign of the Ming Dynasty?"

"Zheng He's seven voyages to the Western Ocean were so large that his treasure ships were comparable to a city."

"What were the Western countries doing at that time? They were still eating raw meat and drinking blood, and they didn't even have a written language."

"Let's talk about the Qing Dynasty."

Zhang Yang then changed the subject, saying, "After the Qing Dynasty entered the Central Plains, how much history did they distort in order to legitimize their rule? They destroyed many classic texts, hid many technologies, and concealed the true glory of China."

"At the same time, Western missionaries arrived."

Zhang Yang's voice turned somber: "They came, they saw it, and then... they took it."

"What did they take?"

“They took away our ‘Tao’.”

"'road'?"

“The Way of Change,” Zhang Yang said, enunciating each word clearly. “It is the study of the principles of change in the universe. They stole thousands of years of Chinese wisdom, gave it a new name, called ‘science,’ and used it to bully China.”

He sighed, his tone tinged with sadness: "I didn't know any of this before. It was when I was doing business in Europe that I saw too many strange things, and that's when I started investigating."

"Aristotle".

Zhang Yang announced a name, "Have you heard of it, Master?"

"I've heard a little about him," the cult leader said casually. "He's said to be a great scholar from ancient Western times."

“Yes, a great scholar.” Zhang Yang nodded. “He wrote hundreds of books, covering physics, metaphysics, poetics, biology, political science… almost all fields of human knowledge at the time.”

Is there a problem?

“This is a big problem.” Zhang Yang spread his hands. “Master, writing books requires paper. In Aristotle’s time, the West couldn’t even make decent paper; they used parchment. A book of medium thickness would require dozens of parchments.”

Zhang Yang held up one finger: "One person, in his lifetime, wrote more than a hundred books. The amount of sheepskin he needed was enough to wrap the entire city of Athens."

"Where did all those sheepskins come from? Who copied them for him? How did those books survive for over a thousand years without any damage, and then 'just happen' to all appear during the Renaissance?"

"Not to mention, the style, argumentation, and terminology of those books were almost identical to those of later missionaries."

Zhang Yang shrugged: "Master, do you think this is reasonable?"

The cult leader frowned slightly, as if he was pondering something.

Aisha spoke first: "Yes! Yes! I heard about it when I was in India!"

Zhang Yang turned to look at her.

“I heard an old scholar say that much of the knowledge in the West actually came from the East!” Aisha’s eyes sparkled. “He said that when Alexander the Great conquered India, he took many books and scholars with him…”

“That’s right.” Zhang Yang continued, “Not just India, but also China. The missionaries brought back far more than they left behind.”

He spoke with an air of righteousness, but in his heart he was thinking... this girl is really easy to fool.

Elsa was completely convinced. She clasped her hands together and exclaimed with emotion, "So that's how it is! Missionaries are all liars and thieves!"

"Yes, they're all scammers."

Zhang Yang nodded without changing his expression.

Then he glanced at the Marquis.

Unlike Elsa, the Marquis did not immediately believe it, nor did he directly refute it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on one hand, with an expression as if he were solving an interesting math problem.

“Interesting. What you said does make some sense.”

Zhang Yang's heart skipped a beat.

But the Marquis continued, "I have lived from the beginning of the eighteenth century to the present."

Zhang Yang's pupils dilated slightly.

Another one who has lived for almost a hundred years?

"Europe in that era was indeed more primitive than what you see now," the Marquis said slowly. "A large number of academic texts did indeed come from the Ottoman Empire."

"Indeed, many books use the names of ancient Greek sages, and some of the content has been extensively added to and modified during the translation process."