Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

veil……

A woman's veil was usually only removed when she was in front of her father, brothers, and husband.

His casual suggestion completely ruined the whole problem.

Of course, this trend toward strict and conservative etiquette emerged in the later stages of Islamic countries.

Samael and Jusudara's last contact was during the Persian Empire's rule over the Arabian Peninsula.

To get the old man to work for him, he even promised him the future of the Arab Empire.

At that time, the Muslims under the rule of the Persian Empire were still playing in the mud, and had not yet forged a unified national will. They had no intention of formulating such strict and conservative doctrines.

Realizing the cause of the incident, Samael was both amused and exasperated.

"Having received your forgiveness, I still dared to tarnish your glory. What a foolish thing I have done!"

The girl crossed her arms over her chest, buried her head in shame, and bit her cherry lips to apologize.

Clearly, through the series of questions and the subtle changes in Samael's expression, Kyonobuko had also realized something.

"By repeatedly distorting God's will with filthy lust, even though I have received Your forgiveness, I have already lost my qualification as a believer..."

The girl murmured in regret, every inch of her skin seemed to be burning with pain, every piece of flesh seemed to be incredibly dirty, and the veins on her hands, which were clenched in front of her chest, were bulging from the excessive force.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound of fingers tapping on the believer's forehead awakened the girl's soul from her heavy guilt.

"If your faith is only concerned with these formal, worldly rituals, isn't that a bit too cheap?"

Samael glanced at the large patches of skin on Kuangxinzi's body that had been pinched purple without her noticing, and snorted irritably.

"Justification by observing commandments, rituals, and the five pillars of socialism is nothing but superficial self-deception. When Jusudela and I were alive, there weren't so many rules. If you want to love God, you must first learn to love yourself. If you despise your own life so much, where will you place the God you hold in your heart?"

It seemed the rebuke from the angel of death had worked; Kyoko released her grip, a bitter smile on her ashen face, a wave of self-destructive despair washing over her.

"Thank you for your guidance. The elders are right. My cultivation is indeed insufficient. No wonder I am not qualified to inherit Hassan's position..."

"Who said you're not qualified to inherit Hassan's mantle?"

Samael raised an eyebrow and uttered a deep, powerful answer.

"In my opinion, you are better than any of the previous eighteen Hassans!"

His vertical pupils stared intently at the bewildered girl before him. His snake-like eyes were dark and deep, like a valley shrouded in the shadow of death, where lost souls gradually succumbed.

~~

In a certain country, there is a person with unwavering faith.

That's all there is to it, nothing more.

Those with unwavering faith are often scorned as "fanatics" because of their unconventional beliefs.

Even those who worship the same god express the same contemptuous remarks.

However, fanatics do not hate people.

The reason I am despised is because I am still immature.

It's simply that my faith isn't strong enough.

Fanatics are even more obsessed with self-discovery.

What she sought was proof.

Simply being a believer is proof that one can be called a follower of God.

So, when she was young, she devoted herself to spiritual practice in order to obtain the name [Hassan] as proof of her faith.

In order to obtain the title that proves her status as the leader of the believers, she must acquire power that can even be described as miraculous.

However, that miracle had some slightly special limitations.

In order to swiftly and reliably destroy the lives of heretics and enemies of God, a miracle was performed.

She belongs to the sect that seeks this miracle.

They are both an assassin group and a group whose very existence is imbued with fanaticism.

However, even within such a group, she was still contemptuously referred to as a "fanatic."

The miracles performed by former leaders in order to inherit the title, bearing the name of fallen angels.

Anyone would be stunned by what she did.

For a moment, no one could believe it.

Unexpectedly, this young, female believer...

He has mastered all the miracles of the eighteen leaders who have ever existed.

This is clearly evidence that she endured painstaking cultivation.

It is obvious that she devoted herself more purely and unequivocally than anyone else.

However, the members of the cult did not recognize her as the successor to the title of leader.

"Look at what you've done? It's not even comparable to copying other fields; it's just 'imitating miracles.' The reason you can't create miracles yourself is that there are still immature parts of you inside."

She is indeed talented.

That was to learn all the techniques that existed in the past, and for that she had to pay a bloody price—she could even endure the pain of sometimes having to cut her own body apart and rebuild it—in other words, she had the talent to work hard to the point of death—but it seemed that God had not given her the talent to use her own creativity to create new techniques.

However, this is only half the reason. In fact, the fact that she acquired all the "skills" that usually take a lifetime to learn in just a few years instilled fear in many people.

"Therefore, you are not mature enough. So we cannot let such a person inherit the title of leader."

Even though these words were just far-fetched arguments, she never had a single thought of doubt.

—Is that so? Is my faith not enough?

—How could I be so immature as to have insulted the techniques of past leaders?

She didn't hate anyone; instead, she continued to hone her skills purely.

When the person known as "One Hundred Faces" is chosen as the new leader—

She saw that this person was proficient in everything and realized that it was a skill she lacked. However, she did not envy the leader; she was only ashamed of her own immaturity.

not enough.

That's still not enough.

It was as if the world was constantly shouting at the fanatics.

As a result, all believers began to avoid fanatics.

That's not enough.

That's not enough.

That's not enough.

Ultimately, this fanatic achieved nothing; she received no proof, lived only as a fanatic, and disappeared into the darkness of history as a fanatic, not even permitted to be martyred.

Because she is not mature enough, and her faith is not firm enough...

"enough!"

The deep voice echoed in this dark and gloomy world, both a declaration and a judgment.

At the end of the road, an angel with twelve serpentine wings stood atop a barren hill.

Eighteen figures dressed in black robes and wearing white bone masks stood in two rows, guarding the rear.

The leader, wielding a sword and shield, stood by his side, his eyes gleaming with a ghostly blue light.

Their skills, their achievements, along with their figures and names, were reflected in those crimson eyes, transforming into a barrage of deadly attacks.

The girl instinctively tried to stop him, unleashing all the skills she had learned. The excruciating pain of her soul being torn apart struck her again and again, but in the end, she stood firm amidst success and failure.

The eighteen figures looked on with admiration and nodded in unison: "Amazing!"

The leader sheathed his sword, nodded slightly, and said in an aged yet authoritative voice, "Very good..."

The angel smiled down at the soul standing at the end of its destiny, its white fingertips landing on the girl's brow, a warm, joyful feeling spreading through her—both an acknowledgment and a reward.

~~

"call!"

With heavy breathing, Kyoko suddenly opened her eyes, her purple pupils meeting a pair of smiling eyes.

Profound and warm.

"Congratulations on passing the test of all previous Hassans, Miss Hassan..."

A deep, magnetic voice sounded in my ear, and a white skull mask was handed to me.

Kyoko awoke from her daze with a start, looking at the proof she had longed for, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She did it! She really did it!

"There's no doubt that your talent is the best besides Jusudera's. Your skills are not just simple imitations, but clever learning and adaptations, some of which are even more powerful than the original divine scriptures. The reason those old guys abandoned you is not because you are not good enough, but because you are too good and uncontrollable."

Your faith is not without light, but it is obscured by the selfish desires of the human heart.

Samael placed the bone mask, representing the new Hassan, into the girl's trembling hands, thought for a moment, and then added thoughtfully.

"However, they were right about one thing..."

what?

Kyoko instinctively looked up, respectfully and nervously gazing at the angel of death before her.

"What you need is to find yourself, not to crave the approval of others..."

The ancient serpent smiled gently and lightly kissed the girl's forehead, softly conveying a Muslim blessing.

"May the peace, mercy, and blessings of God be upon you, so that you may never be lost..."

The voice grew softer and softer, like a lullaby lingering in her ears. Kyoko unconsciously closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

But in his hand, he was still tightly clutching the stark white skull mask.

Samael chuckled and shook his head, then moved the two legs that were pressing down on him away, quietly pulled himself out of bed, put on his clothes, got up, and went to the French windows, gazing up at the bright moonlight outside.

Judging by the time, the next shift change will probably take another two or three hours.

Looks like I won't be able to sleep tonight.

The ancient snake glanced at the slumped bed behind him and the girl curled up, rubbing the white bone mask in her arms. He shook his head helplessly, opened the freezer, and picked up a can of coffee from the shelf.

"Thorn..."

Samael looked down at the unopened pull tab in his hand, then his gaze shifted to the top of his head, and he was startled.

There's someone on the third floor!

Realizing that someone had reached his doorstep, the ancient snake's eyes narrowed instantly. He immediately concealed his aura and noise, and rushed to the third floor of the supermarket.

Carefully passing through several shelves, I came across a figure dressed in a blue and white sweatshirt and wearing a blue scarf, squatting in the food section and rummaging around.

"Pickled cabbage flavor? No way! Tomato sauce flavor? I've been eating this for so long, it's disgusting! Shrimp flavor? I don't eat seafood!"

Where's the tonkotsu ramen? Don't those idiots in the supermarket know to restock?

Damn it, I'm definitely going to give them a bad review!

A head wearing a blue hat was muttering resentfully, with a single, protruding golden ahoge dancing in the wind.

At her feet and all around her were piles of instant noodle boxes and empty plastic bags.

The nameless girl, surrounded by this filthy environment, showed no intention of cleaning up.

After searching for a while, the blonde girl with the ahoge (a cowlick on her head) dejectedly looked away from the empty shelves, rubbed her rumbling stomach, and had no choice but to compromise. She picked up more than ten boxes of instant noodles with tomato sauce, tore open the packaging with disgust, and turned to look for an electric kettle and bottled water.

However, due to the chaotic surroundings, she searched for most of the day without finding anything.

"Damn it, where did you hide the kettle?"

"bawl!"

Just as the girl was grumbling angrily, a hand reached out from the side and handed her the missing water bottle.

"Oh, thank you."