Pitch-black mist appeared out of nowhere, enveloping the entire sacrificial diagram in an instant.

The sculpture in the center flickered with a scarlet glow, and the corpses on the ground twisted and deformed into mummies, as the blood flowing from them coagulated into eerie symbols on the ground, penetrating into the foreheads of the forty-four "goods."

A faint whisper echoed from the void, with a tone both bizarre and malevolent, cold and mechanical, repeating itself over and over. It was hard to make out clearly, yet seemed like a pre-recorded… tape?

Over and over, it resonated in the minds of the "goods," as if in this way, some unseen yet terrifying power was being imprinted deep into their brains, their sea of consciousness, and their very souls.

Luo Ji, with his eyes covered, was one of the goods.

At this moment, he felt as if an invisible hand had pinned him to the ground, so he could not move. The cold, wet blood on the ground felt like slippery snakes, entwining his ankles, arms, and neck, slowly tightening as if to penetrate the skin, seep into muscle and bone.

A bite seemed to have pierced his forehead, and a chilling, bone-piercing coldness dug into his skull, boring into his brain, making him feel a soul-deep pain and shiver with terror.

"Is this some sort of evil ritual, and we've been captured as the sacrifices?"

"Am I going to die?"

Luo Ji was gripped with terror, and in the pitch-black despair, he heard a voice in his mind.

[Chosen Beneficiary, do you wish to become my follower, to turn into my eyes and ears, to be the swords and knives in my hands?]

The eerie and indifferent voice vibrated to the point where his brain was about to split. Luo Ji wanted to scream, but not a single sound could escape his throat.

As the chill seeped into his forehead, his pupils were eroded, and suddenly, a black mist appeared in his obscured vision, and Luo Ji felt his consciousness seemed to drift away from his body, entering an endless void of darkness.

No direction, no distance, like a sheet of black paper spreading infinitely in every direction, he himself became a tiny ant, and no matter how he crawled, it seemed he had not moved an inch on this paper.

Time held no meaning here.

Perhaps a second, perhaps ten thousand years.

Just as the emptiness and solitude were about to obliterate his consciousness, once again, he heard that voice.

Unlike the first time when he felt fear and shivered, this time the voice seemed as melodious as a celestial tune, a beam of light in the darkness, bringing holiness and hope.

[Chosen Beneficiary, do you wish to become my follower, to turn into my eyes and ears, to be the swords and knives in my hands?]

As long as he could leave this dead silence and darkness, no matter what the voice asked, he would be willing a hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times over.

Besides, this wasn't to become a sacrifice, but a follower?

This was a thousand times better than the end he had heard in those stories of evil sacrifices, so perhaps this deity being worshiped wasn't that malevolent?

Luo Ji realized, and in his mind, in his soul, he shouted: "I will!"

At the moment he agreed, a profound and mysterious feeling surfaced in his soul. From now on, his soul was stitched with the threads of [Destiny].

With inspiration, Luo Ji blurted out: "Everything is a gift of Destiny."

In the center of the void darkness, a cold Iron Throne slowly emerged, an unseeable great figure settled upon it, gradually forming a blurred silhouette.

Luo Ji respectfully prostrated himself on the ground, not daring to glance upward, only daring to cautiously sweep his surroundings with his peripheral vision. In the darkness, he saw figures like ants, all like himself, kneeling towards the Iron Throne at the center.

One, two, three… Forty-four believers who seemed to have been in agony waiting in the dark for 10,000 years, spoke in unison with awe: "Everything is a gift of Destiny."

.....

Outside the sacrificial diagram.

The bodies of strange-smiling hooligans were sucked dry to powder, becoming a layer of white ash on the ground, mixed with dried blood into a black sludge.

The forty-four Chosen Beneficiaries, their consciousness linked to the statue, glimpsed a great silhouette, and their bodies instinctively, like puppets controlled by threads, formed a circle, prostrating at the feet of the statue.

The cold, ghostly outline reflected in Black Hat's eyes was breathtakingly beautiful: "Truly a lucky bunch," he murmured.

Standing by his side, Ma Bin's usual cold composure regained a trace of its former fervor: "To be gifted is a fortune, no longer going through life in aimless mediocrity, but sometimes I wonder, perhaps living like the walking dead is a form of fortune too."

Black Hat: "You picked the goods, so what are you sympathizing with?"

Ma Bin: "Just expressing some feelings. Besides, the standard for selecting this batch of goods was set by you."

Ma Bin paused and added: "Zone 9 natives, bottom-tier Blank People, aged before the citizenship exam, poor Root Bone quality, and so on. I only followed your criteria, using Zheng Hang's death as an excuse, to conveniently round up a suspicious group of students."

Black Hat detected the inquiry in Ma Bin's words; with the other's intellect, he likely suspected something, though he gave no answer.

Since the organization suffered severe damage and was restructured in 228, all squads and member operations adhere to strict confidentiality procedures.

This means that, except for the Chief Judge and Thirteen Seats, no squad or member can fully know the scope of operations at any given stage.

This is what [Destiny] refers to as—no one may glimpse Destiny's fullness.

Black Hat wouldn't answer Ma Bin's questions, he simply smiled: "Everyone thinks you're just trying to find the real culprit, believing your target is one of the suspects on the list, not realizing it's all a smokescreen; everyone on the list is already targeted."

Ma Bin glanced at Black Hat, neither confirming nor denying: "You only see through the first layer of deception; the second layer is my pretext to eliminate Boss Zheng and plot an ascent. Hmm... a certain scheming, crippled murderer only saw this layer."

Black Hat remained unmoved: "Let me remind you, apart from the crippled murderer you mentioned, there's also a Calamity Corpse Sect Black Face watching you these past few days, though before the action, I had him led away."

Ma Bin furrowed his brows: "It's all that troublesome crippled murderer who sprang out of nowhere. Speaking of which, since you're already here, why not help me clear these issues too?"

Black Hat declined decisively: "This batch of goods was but a small part of my actions. Since the confirmation, I should take my leave; you must manage your own problems."

Ma Bin's expression turned somewhat grim.

Black Hat without expression: "You've infiltrated well; the present troubles are only minor. Still, if I were to solve your problems, it might seem easy now, but could expose you later, drawing deadly danger."

Ma Bin knew this reasoning well, which is why he framed Boss Zheng, staged a huge diversion, leveraging the Patrol Office's power to eliminate Boss Zheng and take control of the Cyan Wolf Gang.

This served both to apply the smokescreen and fulfill the organization's tasks, as well as to ensure his displayed strength never exceeded that of a mere gang.

As the dust was about to settle, Ma Bin recalled Xiaowu's death, and sadness crept into his heart.

Ma Bin touched the dense blood scabs on his head and sighed: "Xiaowu's dead."

Black Hat remained silent, also recalling Team 117, which had just gone offline, coldly replying: "Trading death for concealment is an unavoidable matter. Perhaps tomorrow, you and I might also die, but our corpses will ultimately pave the steps to the sky."

Ma Bin lifted his head, his gaze seemed to pierce through the walls, looking towards the immense, hideous shape obscuring the sky, a hint of longing and hatred flashing in his eyes: "Hmm."

Black Hat glanced at the time, murmuring: "Time's almost up; the Beneficiary ceremony is about to end. You take the Beneficiaries and leave later, and I'll erase the traces, then take my leave."

Ma Bin nodded: "What's my next task?"

Black Hat shrugged, knowing little himself, only answering: "Go and meet with your Online; you and these Beneficiaries are the first seeds the organization planted in Zone 9, henceforth under your Online's command."

Ma Bin's face slightly tightened, not knowing what kind of person the new Online was.

Black Hat passed the connection time and place to Ma Bin, thus completing his inspection duty. He let out a long breath, having completed one of his tasks successfully. Next, he was to head to the Investigation Corps' side.

In a good mood, Black Hat pondered and slightly forewarned Ma Bin: "Regarding your Online, I also know little, having just learned his code name is [Mask]."

Ma Bin licked his lips, mumbling the name: "Mask?"

…..

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