Chapter 658: The Final Sacrifice

The final sacrifice has begun…

Before Lu Xin and the others left the Nightmare of God, the Hell Designer—who had already departed from the Flame Building—signed that all-important document and drove straight to Flame City Center, entering a vast underground shelter.

Here, an enormous underground base spanning hundreds of acres had already been built without the residents of Flame City being the wiser.

Equipped with state-of-the-art security systems, living facilities, computer-controlled operations, resource reserves, and even leisure areas, it now housed countless people, including Flame high-level personnel, family members, researchers, and the most loyal troops.

Arriving at a huge office inside the shelter, the Hell Designer had already received data from the Flame Building. Smiling, he entered the office filled with sharply dressed big shots and said:

“Good news. That madman is gone—either he entered the Nightmare of God or was eliminated by the Hell Umbrella.”

“So we can safely proceed with the final ritual…”

“…”

At the conference table, a man with a high-level security tag remarked, “There are still several intruders on the run.”

“That’s fine.”

Taking the central seat, the Hell Designer declared, “Without a leader, even an Ability User becomes nothing more than a tiny droplet in a megacity of 30 million residents. Whatever they try to do will be instantly drowned in a sea of minds. All we need to do is stir up a tidal wave from that very sea.”

Everyone around the table fell silent, clearly less optimistic than him.

“But these are still people from one city…”

“No, they’re merely the foundation of hell that we chose in advance…”

“…”

Smiling, the Hell Designer picked up the remote control that had long been set before his seat, tapped it gently, and said, “Now, every corner of the world has tried every trick to figure out where our hell lies…”

“Then why not show them directly?”

“…”

As he spoke, he pressed a button on the remote. Suddenly, an entire wall of surveillance footage lit up the opposite wall.

In total, there were almost a hundred screens.

He casually selected one, confirmed his choice, and the image immediately enlarged.

……

……

The screen showed a vast plaza.

Around the plaza, people poured in from every street intersection, jostling outside the red barrier.

The throng was so dense that it spilled onto nearby intersections, taking over adjacent shops.

Numerous vehicles were stuck, with drivers anxiously honking their horns, yet nothing could be done about the congestion.

Countless heads amassed under the lights, resembling clustered fish scales in the sea.

At that moment, in the middle of the plaza, beside a red-draped stage, a sharply dressed, slick-haired Fat Man dashed up the steps, grabbed the microphone, and flicked his fingers lightly.

“Thump, thump…”

“Screech…”

A piercing current of static burst from the megaphone, cutting through the clamor around the plaza.

“Good evening, fellow believers…”

A broad smile spread over the Fat Man’s face as he announced loudly, “I am a missionary of the True Church’s Western Diocese. Those who know me call me Teacher Wang—though you can also use my English name, Car Pickup King. After all, it’s merely our codename in this world…”

The crowd erupted into excited applause and cheers.

“Alright, alright…”

Lowering his hand to quiet the gathering for a moment, the Fat Man suddenly raised his voice: “Now, I want to know…”

“…how many devout believers from our Western Diocese have gathered here?”

“…”

The murmuring crowd hushed briefly before erupting into louder shouts.

Their voices nearly drowned out the entire plaza.

“Alright, alright…”

Nodding, the Fat Man suddenly raised his voice again: “Don’t those who didn’t show up know we’re handing out two pounds of eggs each today?”

“Boom…”

The cheers grew even louder, completely enveloping the plaza.

……

……

The wild energy on the surveillance screen starkly contrasted with the strained expressions of Flame high-level personnel in the conference room.

One high-ranking official coughed softly and murmured, “What on earth is this?”

“How can we entrust such an important matter to them?”

“…”

His quiet remark resonated with many, eliciting nods all around.

The Hell Designer, having heard it, turned toward the questioning man with a slight smile and said, “This Car Pickup King is just one among the missionary cadre under the Black Box—a candidate for priesthood later. His ability is labeled ‘Speech Ability’ in the internal documents released by the Research Institute. I think you’ll soon understand why we entrusted him with this task.”

While he explained gently, the surveillance screen showed Car Pickup King pacing back and forth on the stage, his excitement unmistakable as his chubby face trembled and large beads of sweat dripped down.

“Those who don’t show up not only miss out on the eggs, they expose their true nature.”

“Why?”

“Because we believe in True Hometown, not for two pounds of eggs!”

“We believe in True Hometown because we despise this fraudulent, rigid, and numb world. We firmly believe that one day, True Hometown will arrive and forever change our fate…”

“…”

The crowd’s roar surged like a tidal wave.

If it weren’t for the high-powered megaphone encircling the plaza, his voice would have been completely lost in the clamor.

Amid this overwhelming fervor, the Fat Man grew even more animated; his eyes reddened to the point of almost bulging out.

He clenched his fists and pounded them up and down.

As if lashing out at the wavering faith of hesitant believers, he bellowed, “Why aren’t they here?”

“Because they don’t believe that True Hometown will come. They have no faith at all…”

“We saw our mentor from Hometown turn a cup into an apple with his own hands…”

“When True Hometown arrives, we will all possess the ability to turn a cup into an apple—we shall have our wishes granted…”

“But foolish people will always remain foolish…”

“No matter how many times you show them a cup turning into an apple, they just won’t believe.”

“They’ll only enjoy the apples we produce…”

“…”

He shouted loudly, his anger for the absent believers unhidden.

As his voice tore through the air, the fervor of the faithful around him only grew.

Their faces lit up with determined excitement, each feeling like they bore the weight of the world.

Their eyes steeled with conviction, they exuded a sense of superiority as they faced the ignorant masses.

As the intensity around him mounted, he suddenly bellowed, “Do you believe that True Hometown will arrive?”

In unison, countless voices roared, “We believe…”

“Alright, you believe and so do I. That’s exactly why we’re here…”

Car Pickup King shouted so forcefully that his voice almost cracked, “They don’t believe, but I do…”

“True Hometown will not only come—it will arrive today!”

“…”

In chorus, countless people cried out, “It will arrive today…”

Suddenly, Car Pickup King turned serious, glancing sternly at the fervent believers around him before slowly dropping to his knees, the microphone held to his lips as he declared, “Then let us all pray here for the arrival of True Hometown. As long as we believe, we can achieve it. Our faith is our greatest strength—anyone who stands in the way of True Hometown’s arrival is our enemy.”

“All who do not embrace True Hometown should be thrown into flames and burned to death…”

“And those who hesitate will forever be lost in a sea of blood the moment True Hometown arrives…”

“…”

Clamor erupted all around…

In an instant, countless people knelt down. If one could describe their collective spirit as a vast ocean, that ocean was now ignited by fervent flames—so powerful that even dissenting voices were instantly assimilated. They all knelt firmly, their eyes aglow with a red gleam, shouting along with the Fat Man on the stage, “True Hometown will undoubtedly arrive…”

“Let us sacrifice our hearts to the truth…”

“So that this world may see the dawn…”

“…”

All around the plaza, voices resounded, “Let us sacrifice our hearts to the truth…”

“So that this world may see the dawn…”

“…”

“…”

“Beep…Beep…”

In the conference room, alongside the surveillance screens, data from the monitoring system began to flash red rapidly.

The magnitude of mental radiation was quickly approaching the critical threshold.

“Do you see it?”

The Hell Designer smiled at them and said, “This is the power of a great speaker.”

“And it is also the weakness of humanity.”

“It is precisely for this reason that we must build our hell…”

“Because when people become this vulnerable, how can we not be prepared to strike?”

“…”

After a long silence, someone in the conference room finally murmured, “If even a lowly missionary can possess such power…”

“Then what about the others…”

“…”

“There’s no need to rush…”

The Hell Designer picked up the remote again, consecutively selecting several screens to display side by side on the monitor.

Smiling, he said, “The major dioceses of the True Church—the Fox Immortal Temple, Daylight Society, Six-Faced Buddha, Free Psychological Counseling Center, Mystery Investigation Department, Special Emergency Unit, Black Box Council, and even the Abyssal Creatures that have long enjoyed our offerings—have all been mobilized…”