Chapter 62: The Forty-Fourth Recipient, the Mask Appears Online? (Seeking Follow-up Reading)
Pitch-black fog appeared out of nowhere, covering the entire sacrificial picture in an instant.
The sculpture in the center was glowing scarlet. The corpses on the ground were twisting and deforming into mummies. The flowing blood condensed into evil symbols on the ground and penetrated into the brows of the forty-four "cargoes".
A faint murmur came from the void, with a strange tone, evil, cold, and mechanical repetition. It didn't sound very real, but it felt like a pre-set recording...?
It echoed over and over in the minds of the "cargoes", as if it was branding some invisible but terrifying power into their brains, their sea of consciousness, and the depths of their souls.
The blindfolded Luo Ji is part of the cargo.
At this moment, he felt as if his body was fixed to the ground by an invisible hand, unable to move. The cold and wet blood on the ground was like a slippery snake, entwining his ankles, arms, and neck, tightening little by little as if to penetrate into his skin, muscles, and bones.
His brows felt like they were bitten by poisonous fangs, and the chilling coldness dug into his skull and drilled into his brain, making him feel pain and trembling from the bottom of his soul.
"It seems like an evil sacrifice. Were we captured as sacrifices?"
"Am I going to die?"
Luo Ji was filled with fear, and in the dark despair, he heard a voice in his head.
[O chosen one, are you willing to become my believer, to become my eyes and ears, to be the sword in my hand?] The strange and cold voice shook his head to the point of splitting it. Luo Ji wanted to scream, but his throat couldn't make a single sound.
The gloom that seeped into his brows was corroding his pupils. A black mist suddenly appeared in his eyes that were blinded by the darkness. Luo Ji felt as if his consciousness had left his body and entered into an endless darkness.
There was no direction, no distance, just like a flat piece of black paper, extending infinitely in all directions. He himself became a tiny ant, and no matter how he crawled, he seemed to have not moved on the paper.
Time has no meaning here.
Maybe it's one second, maybe it's ten thousand years.
When the darkness of emptiness and loneliness was about to obliterate his consciousness, he heard that voice again.
Unlike the fear and trembling when I heard it the first time, this time the same voice seemed to have turned into the sound of nature, a ray of light in the darkness, bringing holiness and hope.
[The chosen one, are you willing to become my believer, to become my eyes and ears, to be the sword in my hand?] As long as he could leave this dead silence and darkness, no matter what the voice said, he would be willing a hundred times, a thousand times, or ten thousand times.
What's more, it's not about becoming a sacrifice, but becoming a believer?
This was already ten thousand times better than the endings of those evil sacrificial stories that Luo Ji had heard before. So, the "god" being sacrificed in front of him was probably a kind and lawful one? Luo Ji realized it, and in his mind and soul, he shouted, "I do!"
The moment he agreed, a mysterious feeling emerged in his soul. From now on, his soul was sewn with the thread of [fate].
As if inspired, Luo Ji blurted out: "Everything is a gift from fate."
In the center of the void and darkness, a cold Iron Throne slowly emerged. An invisible great figure sat on it, slowly condensing into a vague shadow.
Luo Ji prostrated himself on the ground respectfully, not daring to look up. He only dared to carefully glance around with his peripheral vision. In the darkness, he saw that his fellow ants, like himself, were all kneeling down towards the Iron Throne in the center.
One, two, three... Forty-four believers who seemed to have been waiting in darkness for 10,000 years said in awe: "Everything is a gift from fate."
……..Outside the sacrificial picture.
The corpses of the gangsters with strange smiles were sucked into dry powder, which fell to the ground as a layer of white ash and mixed with the dried and coagulated blood to form a black slurry.
The forty-four chosen recipients connected their consciousness into the statue and glimpsed the great shadow. Their bodies followed their instincts and, like puppets controlled by silk strings, they formed a circle and bowed down at the feet of the statue.
The black hat man's white eyes reflected the beautiful scene, and he said faintly: "What a lucky bunch of guys."
Ma Bin stood by, his eyes less enthusiastic, returning to his usual calmness: "It is a blessing to be gifted, so that I don't have to live in mediocrity and confusion. But sometimes, I also think that maybe living like a walking corpse is not a kind of blessing."
Black hat man: "You picked out the goods, why are you feeling sorry for them?"
Ma Bin: "I just said it out of inspiration. Besides, you set the standard for this batch of goods."
Ma Bin paused and added, "Nine District natives, low-level blank people, age limit before the college entrance examination, poor aptitude, etc. I just followed your standards and used Zheng Hang's death as an excuse to identify a group of suspicious students."
The man in the black hat heard that Ma Bin wanted to ask a question, and with his intelligence, he had probably guessed something, but he would not answer.
Since the organization suffered a severe blow and was restructured in 228, all team and member actions have followed a strictly confidential security mechanism.
This means that, except for the chief referee and the thirteen seats at the top, any other team or member can only know the part they are responsible for in the current stage of the actions.
This is what [fate] means—no one can see the full picture of fate. The man in the black hat would not answer Ma Bin’s question. He just smiled and said, “Everyone just mistakenly thinks that you are looking for the real murderer, and that your target is one of the real murderers on the list. Little do they know that everything is a trick, and the people on the list are all targeted.”
Ma Bin glanced at the man in the black hat and said noncommittally: "What you saw was only the first layer of deception. There is also a second layer of deception. I am taking advantage of this situation to eliminate Boss Zheng and plot to gain power. Hmm... a sinister and lame murderer saw this layer."
The black-hatted man was unmoved: "Let me remind you, in addition to the lame murderer you mentioned, there is also a black-faced member of the Corpse Cult who has been watching you in the dark these past two days, but before the action, I had someone lead him away."
Ma Bin frowned: "It's all because of that lame murderer who came out of nowhere. Anyway, since you are here, why don't you help me solve these troubles at once."
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The black hat man refused decisively: "This batch of goods is just a small part of my operation. Now that it is confirmed, I should leave. You have to solve your problem by yourself."
Ma Bin's face was slightly gloomy.
The black hat man said expressionlessly: "You are very good at hiding. The current trouble is just a small trouble for you. But if I solve the problem for you, it may be easy now, but there is no guarantee that it will be discovered by others in the future, leading to fatal danger."
Ma Bin was also aware of this truth, which was why he framed Boss Zheng and went through a lot of trouble to use the power of the police station to deal with Boss Zheng and take control of the Green Wolf Gang.
This is not only to create a sleight of hand and complete the organization's tasks, but also to ensure that the strength they display does not exceed the scope of a gang.
Ma Bin was just about to settle the dust at this moment, and when he recalled Xiaowu's death, he felt a little sad.
Ma Bin touched the dense blood scabs on his head and sighed, "Xiao Wu is dead."
The black hat man remained silent, also thinking of the 117th team that had just gone offline. He replied coldly: "There is no way to exchange death for concealment. Maybe you and I will die tomorrow, but our corpses will eventually form a stairway to the sky."
Ma Bin looked up, his sight seemed to penetrate the wall, looking at the huge ugliness that blocked the sky, a faint hope and hatred flashed in his eyes: "Hmm."
The black hat man looked down at the time and said dimly, "It's almost time. The gift-giving ceremony is about to end. You take these recipients away later. I will deal with all the traces and leave."
Ma Bin nodded: "What is my next task?"
The black hat man shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know much either. He only replied, "Go and contact your superior. You and these recipients are the first batch of seeds planted by the organization in District 9. From now on, you will be under the command of your superior."
Ma Bin's face was slightly tense, and he didn't know what kind of person the new supervisor was.
The man in the black hat told Ma Bin the meeting place and time, and thus his inspection of the goods was completed. He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that at least one of the tasks of this trip was successfully completed. Next, it was time to go to the Survey Corps.
In a good mood, the black hat man thought about it and told Ma Bin in advance: "I don't know much about your boss. I just learned the information. His code name is [Mask]."
Ma Bin licked his lips and murmured again: "Mask?"
…….(End of this chapter)
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