Little Person 013

When Fang Zhiyi finally stood before him, he glanced at Xing Bugui, then raised his gaze to sweep over the people in the fortress behind him. He raised his voice and declared, "What the gods can give you, I can give you too. And it will never be taken back, because it will truly be your own!"

Xing Bugui's heart pounded violently. Most of his subordinates were former imperial Espers who had chosen to follow the Evil God because their abilities had been stripped away by the gods...

"Have you grown accustomed to kneeling? Can you not stand without the power of the gods? Give me two years—no, one year!"

"The Empire and the Divine Council make you kneel in the name of the gods! I want you to stand up!"

Ron, still lying on the ground, stared blankly at everything unfolding. Without realizing it, his face was already covered in tears as he muttered, "Stand up? Stand up!"

The faint murmurs gradually spread out, eventually converging into a mighty torrent.

"Stand up!"

Fang Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief. It worked.

Little Hei rubbed his belly. "I told you, if you were to run an evil cult, you'd definitely be a massive menace."

In the royal capital, Mo Xuan lazily followed his captain on patrol. Strangely enough, all cases regarding the Evil God's believers had suddenly vanished recently. He originally thought he would be able to show off his skills and then brag about it to his bro, the main character, when he returned.

Now it seemed Fang Zhiyi truly was the main character. The moment he left, the whole world went quiet.

He really envied him... His life must be full of epic adventures and flocks of beautiful women.

Mo Xuan thought of the fierce tigress at home. Ever since his grandfather found out he had a girlfriend, the old man's favoritism had gone off the charts. Was this the destiny of a side character?

He casually plucked a flower, looking much like a bitter, resentful wife, and began tearing off the petals one by one. "He returns, he returns not, he returns, he returns not..." Tearing off the last petal, Mo Xuan's face darkened. He returns not? Fang Zhiyi was the big shot he was planning to cling to—how could he not return?

"Wait, the last petal means he returns not, so tearing it off means he will return." Thinking this way, Mo Xuan's mood improved significantly.

Just then, a message suddenly came through: "Evil God believers have attacked a farmstead! Backup is required!"

Mo Xuan's spirits lifted. He had been bored out of his mind for far too long.

Hastily straightening his slightly crooked uniform collar, he practically jogged behind his captain, his steps noticeably lighter than usual. But as he ran, he caught a glimpse of his captain's profile from the corner of his eye. The captain had a nonchalant smile playing on his lips, and there was not a hint of tension in his eyes. Instead, he looked as if he were heading to a trivial dinner party.

Mo Xuan's heart inexplicably skipped a beat, and his footsteps subconsciously slowed by half a pace. An ominous feeling began to spread within him, but he quickly shook his head. Perhaps the captain was simply highly experienced and already had a well-thought-out plan. What was he blindly worrying about?

It wasn't until he arrived at the scene that Mo Xuan felt a shock. His heart felt as though it had been seized by an invisible hand, making it difficult even to breathe.

Where were the traces of Evil God believers? The farmstead before him was in utter ruins. The originally golden wheat fields had been trampled into a mess. The roofs of several adobe houses were half-collapsed, with curls of black smoke still rising from the broken beams. The air was thick with a pungent, scorched scent, mixed with a heavy, nauseating stench of blood.

He cautiously shuffled two steps forward, only to suddenly slip. Looking down, he saw that the soles of his shoes were stained with dark red blood. The blood had not yet fully coagulated, clinging to his boots with a bone-chilling coldness.

Moving his gaze further ahead, the corpses of civilians lay haphazardly scattered along the edges of the fields and beneath the eaves.

An old farmer dressed in a coarse cloth shirt still gripped half a hoe in his hand. His chest had been sliced open with a clean cut, the fresh blood soaking the soil beneath him into a dark brown hue. The wound looked as though it had been cleanly severed by some kind of Esper ability. Not far away, a little girl clutching a rag doll huddled in a corner. The doll's smiling face was blurred with blood. Her eyes were still wide open, filled with sheer terror, and her chest was shockingly charred. That was the signature spell of the Fire God faction—absolutely not something an Evil God believer would use.

The captain of another Esper squad strolled out casually. Smoking a cigarette, he greeted them and then began catching up, the topic revolving around things like "We can report a Second-Class Merit for this." It was as if the corpses at their feet were nothing more than a pile of irrelevant garbage.

For the first time, Mo Xuan felt his mind reel from the shock.

That very day, news broke out that Evil God believers had attacked a farmstead, resulting in heavy civilian casualties, and that the Third Squad had bravely engaged the enemy, killing several believers... The captain even took Mo Xuan's status into account and specifically applied for a major merit on his behalf.

"Slaughtering the innocent to claim false merit..." This phrase surfaced in Mo Xuan's mind.

Weren't they supposed to be the protectors of the civilians?

That was until a classmate from his batch told him, "There's no other way. Those guys who believe in the Evil God have all disappeared recently. If this continues, what will happen to our reputation? Ah, don't overthink it. There are plenty of civilians anyway. A few dying won't hurt. The key is the prestige of the Empire and the Divine Council. You've got it easy—you get merit without even having to say a word. Tsk, tsk."

Mo Xuan opened his mouth to retort, but he couldn't utter a single word. What would Fang Zhiyi do if he were here?

At this moment, his heart was consumed by fear. Were the so-called gods truly like this? No, it shouldn't be. It must be these people acting on their own accord...

The butterfly effect brought about by Fang Zhiyi was gradually altering the trajectory of events.

Without the harassment of the believers, the Divine Council, in order to maintain the populace's faith in the gods, did not hesitate to order the Espers to stage and direct various attack incidents themselves. They soon discovered that this method was even more effective at making the masses blindly worship the gods, and it was entirely controllable.

However, Mo Xuan began suffering from frequent nightmares. He had seen with his own eyes his captain slaughter over a dozen civilians, before calling them over to disguise the scene as an Evil God believer attack. Mo Xuan's abnormal behavior also caught the attention of Old Master Mo.

Thus, Mo Xuan confessed what he had witnessed. Upon hearing his words, Old Master Mo fell into silence, ultimately letting out a deep sigh. Mo Xuan's heart plummeted to rock bottom.

No one could have expected that the situation would quickly spiral out of control. The indiscriminate killing of civilians spread like a virus, leaving countless civilian families shattered and ruined. Meanwhile, those civilians who were not caught up in the incidents became even more fanatical in their devotion to the gods and the Divine Council.

By the time Mo Xuan realized his Esper abilities were gradually fading, he had already been on sick leave for a month. As a transmigrator to begin with, he developed deep suspicions toward those gods.

At the very least... gods shouldn't tolerate their agents committing such atrocities. Unless... those gods were never gods to begin with.

Fang Zhiyi's past words suddenly echoed in his mind, over and over again.