So-Called Karma 14

Insect Master had been with the Church for several years now. Unlike the congregation, who filled their heads with scripture and dogma, he cared more about himself.

Before joining the Church, he was no saint either. He had dozens or even hundreds of lives on his hands—smuggling illegal weapons, drug dealing, robbery—all the worst crimes he'd committed ranked lowest on his list of misdeeds.

He didn't even consider robbery a crime. Wasn't it just a daily pastime? If he saw something he liked, he simply took it.

Those who knew when to back off, he let live. Those who didn't, he killed and looted.

But as the saying goes, "if you walk by the river often, you'll eventually wet your shoes." Insect Master got caught eventually. His capture was a complete accident—bad luck, pure and simple.

A brother and sister had come to a club for revenge, going so far as to poison the drinking water. All the patrons present fell victim. Fortunately, the search team arrived very promptly, making an arrest in record time. They took the siblings into custody and rushed the poisoned victims to the hospital.

When they found Insect Master, he was lying on top of two handsome young men, foaming at the mouth. The search team took everyone in the building away, not forgetting to dress them first.

Many of these people were socialites; they couldn't afford a scandal.

Insect Master had changed his face several times, so at first, the team didn't realize he was that notorious criminal. It was only when he was being treated at the hospital that they noticed something was off.

And so the unlucky Insect Master was locked up. Fresh out of the hospital, he was sent straight to the Lightless Prison, equipped with a special collar.

He spent half a year in prison. Without his esper power, Insect Master was just an ordinary man—not strong, not a fighter. In fact, because of his overly ornate tattoos and somewhat arrogant personality, he was fought over by several gang leaders.

Fortunes turn. When he was pinned down beneath someone, Insect Master wished he could kill everyone in that place.

One day, half a year later, on an unremarkable sunny day, a prison guard pulled him out, saying someone wanted to see him.

Insect Master asked who it was. The guard said with a meaningful tone, "You'll see when you get there. Behave yourself."

The Lightless Prison was used specifically to hold espers. It was said to be on a remote island in the sea, while others claimed it was underground in the Arctic. No one knew its exact location.

Prisoners here never saw the real sky, only the unchanging ceiling lights overhead. After six months of confinement, Insect Master was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and had shed a fair amount of weight.

He followed the guard into the elevator in silence, racking his brain over who could possibly come to find him in a place like this.

The guard led him to a room with no nameplate, stopped at the door, and jerked his chin, signaling for him to push the door open himself.

Insect Master hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and pushed the door open. Inside, there were no demons or monsters—only a man dressed in dark-red clerical robes, seated upright on a sofa. The man glanced at him and said, "Sit."

He later learned that this man was one of the three great bishops of the Holy Healing Church.

The bishop took him out of the Lightless Prison. Even though patrolling guards clearly saw him walking behind the bishop, not one of them stepped forward to stop or question them. That was when Insect Master realized that neither this man nor the organization behind him was someone he could afford to cross.

So despite being an A-level esper with a certain privileged status within the Church, he never dared to harbor any private ambitions when faced with orders from above.

Even though he was a thousand times reluctant about the esper experiments, he still had to obediently stand guard here.

Now, the Resistance's attack gave him an opportunity—a chance to see these people who could challenge the Church. They must be quite formidable.

A cunning glint flashed in Insect Master's eyes. This was his escape route, his chance at life.

If he could help the Church fend off their attack—though he thought it highly unlikely—but if by some stroke of luck they succeeded, it would be a great merit. As for the data, of course, it must all be destroyed. If he later claimed the Resistance had destroyed it, no one could blame him.

If he couldn't hold the line, he would surrender immediately. No organization would refuse an A-level esper, especially one who could spill a wealth of information about the Church as a token of goodwill.

No matter how he calculated it, he came out ahead.

"Give me the copied data," Insect Master called out to the doctor whose name he could never remember. "It's safer on me."

The doctor suspected nothing and handed over the chip.

They didn't use any of the ground-level exits but instead a hidden escape route.

"Mobilize those test subjects again," Insect Master said coldly. "They're not going to last long anyway. Might as well buy us some time. We've got plenty of raw material."

The doctor, though loath to part with his research results, didn't hesitate for long. After all, his own safety and his research data were what truly mattered.

It was a pity, though, that they couldn't complete the full process. He wondered whether those test subjects would have succeeded in the end. After leaving, he would have to start over from scratch—but at least he wouldn't need so many subjects, given that they had already made many mistakes.

A flicker of regret crossed the doctor's mind as he pondered where to build the next base and how many test subjects he would need. His fingers moved over the control panel.

As the sound waves spread, the retreating townsfolk surged out again, scouring the ground for targets.

Yan Xianchuan's blood boiled at the sight of them. Under normal circumstances, she couldn't see her own back, but her neck wasn't broken—a quick look behind revealed everything.

Green in patches, bald in patches, yellow in smears—worse than a plucked chicken. She only had twelve hours. The sun had already risen; by noon, the goat transformation spell would wear off, and she would no longer enjoy the closeness with Lu Mingqiu without barriers, nor feel the other's unconscious tender touches.

And who did she have to thank for that?

An angry person doesn't listen to reason, and an angry goat is even worse.

She ground her teeth, which were meant for grazing, until they squeaked, nearly sparking.

Yan Xianchuan glared darkly at the surging crowd, her short tail flicking back and forth.

She had killed enough people to fill several swimming pools. What was a few more?

Just then, several pink, dough-like round objects flew toward her head. Yan Xianchuan dodged to the side. A brown tiger with black stripes pounced silently from behind, its two enormous claws spread wide, swiping down at her.

Yan Xianchuan immediately jumped straight up. The tiger's claws snagged her thigh, scraping off more wool. Too furious to dwell on it, she adjusted mid-air and landed her four hooves squarely on the tiger's back. With a powerful kick, she launched herself off and charged back into the crowd.

Whether they were specters like evil ghosts or men with chainsaw arms, she trampled them all. Especially that chainsaw-arm fellow—while she was charging at the one releasing wind blades, he snuck up from behind and inflicted massive damage on her already sparse wool. Her perfectly good head was now directly turned into a balding mess.

Even though she snapped off his chainsaw arm with her horns, the wool that had fallen out wouldn't grow back.

Yan Xianchuan, furious beyond measure, snatched half of his chainsaw arm in her mouth and hurled it at the others.

In her fit of rage, she completely abandoned all strategy, charging at whoever came near without care. Before she knew it, she was wrapped up in a huge, transparent spiderweb.

The sticky mucus on the web instantly glued half her body, lifting her into the air, leaving her helpless on her back. Then another web was flung over her. The two great nets sandwiched her between them, constantly secreting paralytic toxins and releasing dizzying gas.

Eyes wide, she saw a spider-bodied esper pacing across the web in the air on six legs, its humanoid upper half sporting both human arms and spider legs. From the table-sized spider abdomen at its rear, it kept shooting silk at her.

The toxins didn't affect Yan Xianchuan much, but the web had her trapped. No matter how she struggled or thrashed, she couldn't break free. Even if she tore a piece, new silk quickly patched it up.

Those still alive were few—only about a dozen left—and they all gathered around, each showing off their abilities.

Some let out high-decibel screams, trying to deafen her. Others stabbed at her with ice spikes. Those without any offensive ability pulled out various tools and closed in to attack her.

Although Yan Xianchuan was lying on her back, she wasn't entirely defenseless. She kept twisting and kicking, and when she saw an opening, she gave a forceful heave, sending several chins flying skyward. The force was such that those hit had half their mouths along with their teeth go flying.

The unfortunate souls died instantly, making the crowd around her step back a few paces. Yan Xianchuan seized the moment, shaking her head violently left and right. The only thing she could rely on now was her naturally sharp horns. Even stuck to the web, they could still slice through it.

Meanwhile, she was also trying to turn her body over. If she could get to her stomach instead of her back, she could get enough leverage to cut herself free and fall to the ground, rather than just kicking off webs from her hooves and still lying on her back.

Those espers who couldn't attack from a distance left. With their barely functioning brains, they analyzed that staying was pointless and decided to go support the others. Only a few who could attack from afar remained to wear her down.

Meanwhile, Lu Mingqiu's side was going smoothly. Butterfly only had to clean up the few fish that slipped through in the sky—enemies not caught in her gaze. Of those that remained, the vast majority, as long as they crossed her line of sight, lost their lives.

The sound-manipulated espers surged up in waves and died in waves. Rows of people fell, not a bloody sight, yet all the more chilling for it.

Such large-scale, sustained use of esper power, and still no sign of fatigue on her.

When it came to speed of killing, even Bai Ge was a step behind.

It wasn't long before she had cleared out the attackers.

With the Church personnel fleeing and the signal barrier gone, Lu Mingqiu checked the status of the other directions. Learning that everything was under control, she had Butterfly go find Calamus and the others, while she herself dashed east to support Yan Xianchuan.

The other party had no means of communication, which made her worry all the more.

Walnut Town, once fairly clean, was now a scene of devastation.

Lu Mingqiu ran through corpse-strewn streets, stepping over rubble of collapsed buildings. But halfway there, she spotted a few townsfolk.

Her heart skipped a beat. Had Yan Xianchuan met with an accident?

Why else would people be leaving from the east side, and their bloodstains still fresh?

A surge of anxiety hit Lu Mingqiu. She dispatched the few without a second thought and quickened her pace.

Walnut Town wasn't small. Even someone as well-trained as she was couldn't help but pant after sprinting at full speed for so long.

Fortunately, in the distance, she spotted a few people surrounding a white cocoon that bulged and shifted. The tension in her chest eased slightly.

Sweat dripped down her cheeks, but Lu Mingqiu didn't bother to wipe it away. She charged straight at the townsfolk. A sweep of her mental power, and all of them froze in place, collapsing in unison.

The cocoon they had been surrounding fell to the ground.

She pulled a small knife from her waist and said, panting heavily, "Don't move. I'll cut it open."

A soft "baa" came from inside, and the cocoon indeed stopped moving.

With one hand feeling the web, Lu Mingqiu used the other to slash upward with the dagger. Four goat legs appeared first. Then she carefully sliced away the rest of the web binding Yan Xianchuan, tearing at it with her hands where the knife was inconvenient.

After a good deal of effort, the little goat trapped within was finally pulled out, its body covered in streaks of blood and a few small punctures seeping red.

The whole goat didn't have a single patch of unblemished skin. Pitiful as it looked, most wounds were superficial. Lu Mingqiu knew her partner's recovery ability—these would be fully healed in a day or two.

But as Yan Xianchuan let out a low bleat and walked toward her, Lu Mingqiu's gaze suddenly froze—Yan Xianchuan's eyes were tightly shut, two trails of blood streaking down from beneath her eyelids.