Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"Think about it, if this thing were still left at Nalanda Monastery, with so many people watching, wouldn't you, as a guardian deity, need to patrol and patrol here every day to ensure the safety of the Buddha's relics?"

Nezha nodded subconsciously, a hint of melancholy rising in his eyes as he recalled the tedious patrol work and the Nalanda Monastery he was tired of seeing all day long.

Seeing this, Samael's smile widened even more.

"Then I'll take the things, and you'll be free, right? You can go wherever you want to go, since it's not like you lost the things."

Nezha's eyes lit up, and he nodded again, his face beaming.

"You've guarded the Buddha's relics for so many years. Even if you haven't made any great contributions, you've certainly worked hard. Now that you're no longer in this position, you should get some rest."

As he spoke, Samael pulled out a credit card and shoved it into the hand of the guardian deity without a word.

"Here, take this. You can't travel without some money to spare."

The guardian deity, who had long been integrated into human society, looked at Samael with shining eyes after hearing the credit card limit and password, and exclaimed his heartfelt praise.

"You're actually a pretty nice person."

The Demon King nodded demurely, accepting the praise with pleasure, and smiled as he watched the guardian deity, whose mind was already like a wild horse, leap over the wall of Nalanda Monastery and head towards the new world.

She didn't want to stay in this awful place for another second.

Only when that carefree figure, riding on wheels of fire, transformed into golden light and disappeared into the horizon, did Tamamo-no-Mae, who had also been gazing into the distance, turn her head and look wistfully at Samael, who looked like a benevolent philanthropist.

"The council's card?"

"uh-huh."

"You really are a piece of trash."

"Thank you for the compliment."

The ancient serpent maintained its smile, and at the same time raised its hand to make the sign of the cross on its chest in blessing this guardian deity of Buddhism.

O lamb who sacrificed himself for the Lord, may you be spared suffering when caught by those tigresses, Amen.

As we all know, big data such as fund flows can easily pinpoint a person's activity patterns.

Especially bank cards used for official business accounts are like giant searchlights.

Soon after, in the Victoria district of London, England, at Fox Cross on the banks of the Thames.

On the north side of the eastern end of Vauxhall Bridge in London, a stepped building with extensive use of green glass stands out.

This building, designed by architect Terry Farah, is not particularly outstanding in the history of architectural art, except that it houses a small institution.

Its name is "Military Intelligence Six".

At the same time, the sound of intense keyboard typing came from the information and intelligence room, and the data stream on the screen was constantly scrolling, dense as a waterfall.

"Report! Based on the flow of funds, we have just located His latest area of ​​activity!"

"where?!"

"Bangalore, India."

Upon receiving a definite answer, the staff in the entire hall cheered excitedly, their hundreds of exhausted faces flushed with excitement.

At the control panel, the information security chief, whose hair was thinning, slammed his hand on the table, his bloodshot eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

"Quickly! Engrave this and report it to the Queen!"

The voice was so excited that it even sounded like someone was about to cry.

Looking at the tall, thin department boss on the stage, the employees felt a pang of sadness.

They remembered that when this leader first took office a month ago, he was a plump man weighing around 200 pounds.

In such a short time, he was tortured by his superiors to the point of being almost emaciated and suffering a mental breakdown.

Fortunately, the investigation finally yielded some results before he was admitted to the ICU.

Under orders from her superior, the operator immediately dialed Buckingham Palace.

"He swiped the council's credit card? Is He really that careless?"

The doubts in his ears made the information security manager, who was eager to report good news on the phone, break out in a sweat.

"Wait, He's moving! He's gone to New Delhi now!"

"The location has changed again; it's in Yanjing, China!"

"..."

The intelligence officer's constant changes of story made the information security supervisor, who was reporting on the work, even more uneasy.

Unexpectedly, before he could even resign, the person on the other end of the phone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Not a fixed location? It seems He was right, transmitting the synchronized data to my computer..."

As the call ended and the authoritative voice that had carried immense psychological pressure dissipated, the information security manager slumped back into his chair with a sigh of relief, waving to signal the intelligence officer to follow up on the matter.

Upon receiving the definitive result, everyone cheered with excitement.

Then, around a hundred intelligence agents simultaneously pulled out their phones and pressed the "send" button.

In an instant, the Prime Minister's Office, Surrey County headquarters, the Clock Tower, Chaldea, and even the Notre-Dame Basilica in France, Damascus in Syria, Fuyuki City in Japan, Siberia in Russia, and other parts of the world received a series of edited messages.

Finally, we caught them!

Pairs of eyes, a mixture of excitement and sneer, all turned to look in one direction.

At this very moment, in a meditation room at Nalanda Monastery.

Just as everyone finished drinking a pot of tea, the sky suddenly changed, and a series of violent tremors came from the sky.

"Buzz buzz!"

One after another, divine intents imbued with immense power soared into the sky, as if countless true gods had descended.

"Master, thank you for your explanation. I will not disturb you any longer today. Farewell."

Samael and Tamamo-no-Mae exchanged a glance and then got up to say goodbye.

Sanzang didn't try to persuade them to stay any longer, only saying "You're welcome anytime" before getting up to see them out.

Egypt, over Cairo.

There...!

Inside a solar boat sailing through the clouds, Ramses II stood on the deck, gazing at a point in the east where streams of light were constantly converging, his eyes gleaming with a sharp light.

At that moment, the Israelite prophet, carrying a heavy box on his back, glanced at his brother beside him who was ordering the solar boat to set sail, and gave a helpless, bitter smile.

“The Holy Spirit has already shown signs and followed the footsteps of the divine voice. This is merely my atonement; you don’t really need to come along…”

"Your business is my business. It just so happens that I haven't seen that person for a while."

Ramses II waved his hand impatiently, his attitude firm.

The two female pharaohs, Nitocris and Cleopatra VII, attended to him, keeping their eyes down and remaining obediently silent.

Behind them, Queen Nefertari, wife of Ramses II, was holding the hand of a frail, white-haired boy who looked like an angel or a saint. She radiated maternal love, and occasionally her eyes would glance over her arguing husband and Moses, and she would shake her head with a light laugh.

It was the dying boy that Ramses II took from the Far East after the Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City—Ise San'anji.

Clearly, during his trip to Egypt, the Pharaoh not only found the Book of the Dead and healed the child, but also reunited with his brother and queen.

Furthermore, Princess Nefertari, who had suffered the pain of losing her son, seemed to have a great fondness for Ise San'anji and poured her maternal love into the child.

Whether it's a pilgrimage, atonement, or a reunion with old friends.

Although the purposes may differ, the pursuit of light is human nature.

"Ah!"

At the same time, Samael, who had just left the monastery, sneezed loudly as if sensing something.

He shrank back slightly, quickly blending into the crowd on the street. He then looked up at the streaks of light that kept streaking across the sky, observing the movements of the pursuers from all directions.

First, throw out bait to lure out the group of tigresses lying in ambush, revealing their weaknesses so that the loopholes in the encirclement can be seen, making it easier to escape.

As a seasoned veteran who has never failed, he has gradually turned the art of running away into a skill that is constantly being improved.

However, just as Samael was secretly planning his escape route, he unexpectedly ran into a group of acquaintances.

Karna, the sun god; Rama, an avatar of Vishnu; and Ganesha, the elephant god.

At the same time, they also seemed to be searching for something.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Chaldea in Trouble Yet Again

"where!"

Hearing the little elephant god's excited shouts, Samael, who was hiding from the pursuers, was startled and instinctively pulled his half-out body back into the crowd.

However, he soon realized it was just a false alarm.

The three Indian companions, with a clear goal in mind, crossed the street and entered a small, open-air shop run by a husband and wife.

Although the shop is small, its interior is unusually clean and tidy.

"Why did you come here again? You didn't even say anything. Those people are going crazy looking for you."

After entering the store, Gina squeezed out from between Karna and Rama, and hurriedly muttered to the figure dining in the corner.

He was a man with long, black hair and deep black eyes.

Beneath his dark skin lay a perfectly proportioned physique. His tall and athletic build, even just sitting there, exuded an aura that kept strangers at bay, creating an indescribable sense of oppression.

Why is it him?

Samael looked around and was slightly taken aback, as the man's true identity came to mind.

During the Covenant War, the Hindu gods poured all their resources and divine power into creating the "Black Last God"—"Omnidivine" Arjuna.

To combat the arrival of the predatory star Vilpa, he was infused with the blessings of almost all the Hindu gods, encompassing the divinity and power they bestowed upon him.

With the victory of the final battle, this "Black Last God" was also recorded in the Indian civilization in its complete form. After the liberation of the Thirteen Bonds, he returned to the surface to continue fulfilling his mission and secretly maintaining the rule and operation of India.

It can be said that the handsome dark-skinned man in front of us is India's most relied-upon strategic nuclear weapon since the return of the gods.

Therefore, his every move attracts the attention and influence of various forces in India.

Sure enough, just a few days after he came out, Ah Zhou was cornered in his shop by a trio who had come looking for him.

Although this "Black Last God" followed instructions and deliberately disguised himself as an ordinary person when going out to avoid causing unnecessary disturbances.

However, based on the intangible divinity and divine power emanating from him, a vacuum zone was still conspicuously formed around him.

Fortunately, there weren't many customers at that time, and Arjuna's arrival didn't significantly impact the shopkeepers' business.

The busy shop owners seemed unfazed by the strange customer.

Since the man who came to Nalanda Monastery on foot alone had a meal at his family's small shop six months ago, he seems to have fallen in love with the food and has been coming back to dine there from time to time.

Although the man initially intimidated the shop owners, they soon realized that he was no different from anyone else.

At most, they just don't like being disturbed and talk less.

For a chef, this quality in a guest is not a flaw, but rather an advantage.

In a quiet environment, guests tend to focus more on enjoying the food.

The focus of diners brings particular satisfaction to the chefs who prepare the food.

"Are you an acquaintance of yours, sir? Come in and have a seat. You can try my family's special pastries, fresh out of the oven, and they're free."

As he spoke, the middle-aged male shop owner, with a small mustache and slightly curly black hair, laughed heartily and greeted the Indian trio who had entered the door to sit down. He then served them a portion of his homemade rice and bean steamed cake and invited them to try it.

"Boss, could you please bring us one as well?"

Just as the middle-aged shop owner turned to serve the four people, a gentle voice came from behind him with words of advice.

This is a privilege reserved for regular customers...

If I keep giving them away like this, I might not even be able to make up for the losses with my earnings today.

He has a bunch of kids at home who need him to support them.

The middle-aged shop owner turned to look at the handsome, black-haired male customer who was leading three women—two adults and one child—into the shop. He hesitated, opening his mouth as if he were in a dilemma.

But before he could speak, the male customer's dark, deep eyes flickered, as if he had seen through his thoughts, and he smiled and spoke first.

"Don't worry, we'll pay you."