Secret: The years I served as a foreign aid for the Aurora Club

Chapter 191 The Villains Who Work Hard
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"Adam—Adam."

The decadent king was bored, pinching the toy in his hand and pressing down on the blond human's left eye, which made a slight snapping sound in the eye socket. He then watched the eye slowly repair itself and bulge out again.

He placed his thumb against the virtual personality's temple and pressed down hard, as if he was pinching a stress-relieving toy, making the virtual personality's temple deeply sunken and the eyeballs bulged outwards horribly.

If we have to find a similarity in human behavior, it is that when we squeeze bubble wrap to pass the time, they also make similar sounds.

"The gate to the God-forsaken Land will soon open for me."

"Source Essence, the chance for the Kingdom of God to descend upon the real world, I can at least get one of them."

The current form of the mythical creature is without claws, teeth and bones, but it does not affect its ability to torment others.

He grabbed the virtual personality with one hand like a doll, and with the other hand, he stretched out his index finger and gently touched Adam's abdomen, slowly applying pressure, and finally pierced his stomach to create a large hole that was transparent from front to back. In this world similar to the Kingdom of God, illusory blood flew like light and shadow, and the virtual personality's eyebrows twitched twice, but he still endured the instinctive reaction of pain.

But the painful time it went through was so long, and endless negative emotions and painful memories filled the corners of its memory. It was emotionally unbalanced like a human being, just waiting for the day to explode.

"Endure the pain and control your fear. It's useless to attack your mind if you want to make you fall into the direction of humanity. When dealing with the best psychologist in the world, direct harm is more effective." The Outer God said to Him leisurely, "It seems that you don't plan to say anything."

"Can your true self also endure pain?"

He was speaking, but the words he spoke did not belong to any language. Each syllable was as strange as if it could only be produced by human vocal cords that had aged and torn. Just like the rustling of leaves in the wind, the rubbing of vines and dry branches against each other, this sound was not transmitted from the ears, but directly sounded in the brain of the virtual personality, causing goose bumps again and again.

This virtual shell didn't even open its mouth. It was too lazy to even pretend to do so.

He looked down at the toy in his palm, bent his fingers, and touched the living beating heart - this is what Adam saw, but in fact it should be a more bizarre and terrifying scene, such as those dry and rough branches piercing his abdomen, fixing his body while extending tiny branches to pierce his internal organs - the terrifying touch of his heart being caressed turned into an extreme negative emotion that rushed into the mind of the virtual personality, it moved a little bit, and then its brain went blank, the negative emotions disappeared without a trace, and only the pain continued.

"Your true form is much more difficult to deal with than yours. I don't have the time to spend another hundred years torturing Him..."

As this terrifying visitor from the starry sky spoke, it used branches and roots that mimicked hands to interact with Adam's internal organs. It treated the human abdominal and thoracic cavity as a puzzle, and randomly repositioned the internal organs to fill the puzzle in different ways.

Just torture the virtual personality. No matter how the creature is transformed by the divine, it still has instincts, just like subconsciously closing your eyes when you see someone punching, and you will shrink or even feel phantom pain when you see others get hurt. Collect all the countless pains, joys, hatreds, despairs, and thoughts of giving up over the past 100 years, and press them deep in the mind of the virtual personality.

As a virtual personality identical to Adam, isn't it natural that the original body would be affected by its pain when the subroutine returns?

It was silent, too boring. Thinking that angels could survive without air, the Decaying King crushed His lungs.

"Humans" need to breathe, and a virtual personality that recognizes itself as a human naturally needs to breathe as well. The Outer God watched it lose its "operating mode" and suddenly opened its eyes wide to reveal a hideous and distorted expression, and contentedly accepted this part of the pain.

Heart, arteries, lungs... The human body has too many fatal weaknesses, so how would the "dreamer"'s weaknesses manifest themselves? Of course, He knew that gods and angels did not have physical weaknesses, but He still felt that if the "dreamer" had a fatal weakness, it would undoubtedly be the brain.

"You've probably heard of 'brain in a vat.'"

The decayed king's gaze fell on the sweaty forehead of the virtual personality, and he whispered with interest:

"In reference to Al-Suhod's writing, can a writer's brain constantly compose its own drama and put it into reality? Can it be the core of a huge system, constantly performing fantasies and calculations?"

"Speak, or I'll start to think you don't need a throat and vocal cords anymore."

The virtual personality was silent for a few seconds before being forced to think: "Are you going to do something to the real person?"

“That’s all you can think of…”

The Outer God sighed in a very human way, pinched the virtual personality's neck with two fingers, and gently pressed it. The virtual personality was like being hit hard, and its head rolled to the side like a ball without a rope. The virtual personality saw its back, its spine was broken, its vocal cords were torn, and the flesh inside its neck was separated by blood, leaving only the outer skin still connected. It will not be able to make any sound for a short time.

He just had nothing to say, so he simply closed his eyes and tilted his head to pretend that he was dead. Because his mind was in a mess, the roots of the Outer Gods would always gently caress his cerebral cortex when he tried to regain his sanity, twisting his only rationality into inarticulate babbling and nonsense with evil fun, making him unable to control himself like an epileptic patient.

The human body is mainly composed of water, so piercing a human body is no different from piercing a bag full of water. Without extraordinary characteristics, a body that has only been strengthened once and a mythical creature form does not have much defense... The King of Decay fiddled with Adam's head and straightened it even though the spine was broken.

He always has to repair the props after kneading them, after all, they are still useful.

The virtual personality's limbs kept twitching, and its eyebrows were huddled together like a worm, enduring unimaginable and endless pain.

“I will not catch Him, for He will come to me and fall into my hands.”

His voice had a kind of hypnotic power, and in an instant the virtual personality felt the pain in its body disappear, and even felt a little relieved. When its consciousness returned, if it still couldn't control its head and throat, it would almost suspect that everything it had just encountered was an illusion.

"Your struggle is in vain, just like the humans who are destined to slide into the abyss of death."

"Your true form cannot escape from my grasp. You will all be controlled by me."

"Sacrificing others doesn't make you look great. You should set an example and become a meaningless sacrifice."

"This is the curse I give you."

"so……"

"Do you want to die now?"

The Outer God's voice could be described as gentle.

He watches the virtual personality as a human watches a tiny reptile, and life and death depend entirely on His preference.

……

Edward removed the thin book covering his face, then opened his eyes and stretched out on the sofa.

"Six hundred and seventy-two questions, thirteen 'yes's, and the rest were all rejections. Even with only the factory settings for the virtual personality, it has great patience and mental toughness." He muttered, as if the container's half-awake state and the half-hearted acting created a state between an Outer God and a demon. Then his expression and movements began to become flexible, and the part of his consciousness that made up "Edward Vaughn" surfaced. Edward fumbled for the glasses he had thrown away before taking a nap on the carpet and put them on, then stood up and prepared to make himself a cup of coffee.

As the kettle began to gurgle and steam came out, Edward slowly ground the coffee powder. He always preferred the Filmer coffee produced in the Paz Valley in the southern continent, which had a mellow taste. Without the high shipping costs and tariffs, the price of direct sales from the place of origin was only about two-thirds of the price sold in Loen. Edward bought ten cans at once and drank them slowly.

"In fact, it only takes one surrender. The rest is just icing on the cake to increase the success rate."

“The ‘audience’ approach is really interesting. In the early stage, I sat in the audience, and in the later stage, I went behind the scenes… Can this be regarded as a kind of writing that one can write naturally after seeing a lot? I just don’t know what masterpiece that writer has completed in these thousands of years.”

The bitter aroma of coffee filled the hotel. Edward took out the filter paper and filter cup, assembled them, rinsed them, put in the coffee powder, and then slowly added water to filter out the coffee solution.

After more than ten minutes, He got a cup of about 300 ml of warm coffee.

Looking at the ordinary brown-black surface of the coffee, Edward suddenly had an idea. After letting it cool down, he added some frothy milk to make a latte art on the coffee.

"If I remember correctly, the full name of the writer is 'Fairy Tale Writer', right? Although it may just be a prefix added by the Creator out of personal preference, but look at Adam, he wrote so many plots and wars, what kind of cult fairy tales are they..."

At around four or five in the afternoon, the sun had not yet set over the southern continent. Edward sat by the window with a cup of coffee and began to process the recent backlog of intelligence information. He drank a corner of the Devil's Path logo on the latte art in one gulp.

"The North family chose to establish a major partnership with the Steam Church? Well, the night is too risky and the storm is difficult to deal with. They chose the food industry and can purchase a large number of machines from the Steam Church. This is the right approach."

Edward gave a casual reminder:

"Carry out business struggles normally to expand your industry, put up your own brand, and show your ambition appropriately, then the church will feel that they have control over you."

"Try to gain the trust of the church in the early stages, and strive to become the main food supplier in the rear of Loen during the war."

It would be much easier to tamper with the military rations at the frontline than for the demons to live in the corners of the southern continent and kill people one by one. Moreover, during this period of time, there was plenty of time and space to "appropriately" make some competitors disappear.

The Demon Family was grateful for the response, and the leader named Milan expressed his loyalty and gratitude for the umpteenth time.

Young and ambitious people are always easy to control, no matter if they are demons or not. The North family was originally the strongest of the three demon families, but was suppressed because Belia surrendered to the Mother Tree of Desire early and they were slow to pledge their loyalty. After being suppressed for nearly a thousand years, the North family, which had become the worst of the three families, could not wait to pounce and hug the legs of the newly promoted demon king, and could be said to be the most loyal of the three families.

Of course, it is foolish to talk about loyalty with the devil.

If we have to say what the devil is loyal to, the answer can only be his own desires and power.

After dealing with the prayers of the North family, Edward turned his attention to the two young men he had chosen from the southern continent.

In a sense, those who can pray directly to God and who are likely to receive a direct response from God are all favored by God, but God himself does not think so. He does not favor anyone equally, and responding to prayers is just necessary to achieve his goals faster. "Have they begun to suspect that I am indeed Sua? That's good, so that it will not be easy for the indulgent faction to find out the problem, unless Sua himself comes to ask - He certainly does not have the time, and does not care about these trivial matters. With his brain capacity, being able to save his life under the vigilance of the Seven Gods and taking some bloody revenge on the northern continent colonies from time to time is already the limit."

Edward noticed their current position.

"It's in East Balam. It's pretty quick. It's close to the Harvest Plains. Next time, we can ask them to sacrifice some meat other than humans."

The Harvest Plains is an important production area for livestock in the Southern Continent. The mild climate and abundant water and grass produce very delicious Southern Continent specialty beef and mutton. There is a delicacy called grilled steak in the inland of East Balam, which is also a very popular specialty in the Northern Continent. Grilled beef steak with sauce made with special spices from the Southern Continent, plus eggs, rice, potatoes, onions, garlic, olive oil, a little cumin and chili.

The steak was cooked to medium rare, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and very chewy, with a completely different flavor from the fried steak in the northern continent.

"After all, only the middle part of the back and the meat below the waist are close to the taste of steak."

“As for the Beyonders, most of them taste pretty good…”

"Yeah, actually, it's not bad to engage in cannibalism in this era. I'll talk to North about it later."

Edward drank his coffee and talked to himself for a while. He didn't rush to respond to them. He just hinted as usual that they should continue to go deeper into West Balam, cross the Harvest Plains, and go to the Highland Kingdom Ruins and Star Plateau where the Indulgence Sect mainly held activities, and try to participate in this year's Rose School Grand Festival.

"…Although that's actually pretty boring. All it does is praise and indulge in desires. Even the food they cook isn't tasty."

We can't rely on others to seize other path sequence one, let alone the real creator. As long as we can rely on these two young people to find the location of Su'a, the cult will fight internally and the evil gods will die violently. How pleasant it is!
Testing the bottom line of the true Creator was quite effective. He did not reach out to the uniqueness, but instead sought to seize the sequence one of the prisoner path. He could not continue to find fault!

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Medici put his feet on the table, listened to the Lord's response for a while, then picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it up and threw it at Trena's head.

Treanor tilted his head and looked at the Red Angel in confusion.

"You performed very well in this operation." Medici said lazily, "Providing important clues and summarizing the action reports along the way is the biggest reward. You are good at intelligence, right? Have you practiced in the Soran family?"

Treanor nodded. "The intelligence department is jointly managed by the Secret Order and the Soran family. I once interned there for a period of time."

Medici nodded, not taking it too seriously:

"The Iron Cross Society has been very enthusiastic about its activities recently. You just happened to have successfully completed an assistance mission, so you can serve as an example."

"Forget about the advanced individual award certificate, but can you give me a day off?"

"People who are capable should be assigned more work."

Treanor then took out the resignation documents he had prepared long ago from the drawer in front of the Red Angel.

As the administrator of the Intis portion and one of the few saints, he even stamped his own seal.

Medici stretched his legs and pushed the drawer back. "Don't be so boring. The reward and punishment system of the Aurora Society has been very successful and has fully mobilized the enthusiasm of the staff (Treynard: They are very enthusiastic to begin with.), so I think it can be implemented within the Iron Cross. As long as you are reported to the Aurora Society, you can compete with the Aurora Society's envoys for an outstanding employee and set an example."

Messengers? Those unfamiliar Mr. and Ms. Letters came to Traynor's mind. It was said that they had fought countless small civil wars in order to compete for the top performance of the employees every month, and they had been beaten to a pulp in various ways.

"…What's the reward for first place?"

"The Lord's divinely bestowed spell."

…Although it was a talisman bestowed by the true God, representing supreme favor and glory, what came to Treanor’s mind was the scene of the children in the nursery fighting for the little red flower in the teacher’s hand. He shook his head: “I don’t lack talismans.”

Are you talking like a human being? Medici was so angry that he laughed, "We don't need you! The Aurora Club is still worried that you will come in and grab the first place. Since you don't believe in God, then come and believe in me from now on."

……

In the God-forsaken Land, the frequency of lightning gradually decreases in the evening.

A few hundred meters outside the Silver City, several people wearing armor and animal skins with torches were patrolling.

This is a daily activity for the residents of Silver City, and it is also the most important task that cannot be slacked off. As they walked, one of them suddenly stopped, then pointed his finger at the bottomless darkness ahead: "——Look!"

Is there something unusual? The others immediately went on alert, holding their weapons tightly and looking in the direction their companions were pointing. They saw a ray of light quietly appearing in the darkness, a bright, stable light that did not flicker like a flame.

This ray of light does not belong to the patrol team! Today's hunting team did not come back from this direction!

The light didn't come from Silver City, so where did it come from? The people in the patrol team were stunned, frightened, nervous, worried, and had a hint of indescribable curiosity and expectation.

"... Be alert!" The captain immediately gave the order. They changed into battle formation, waiting for the dim yellow light to approach them.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment, and every second was so slow. Finally, when the fire grew bigger, a human figure was revealed.

A human figure, or at least a human-like figure... The patrol team of the City of Silver held their breath at the same time. They had no experience with visitors in the dark and didn't know how to deal with them. They could only wait quietly for the figure to approach and walk into their firelight.

The visitor had a hunched body and wore a dark black robe made of a fabric that had never been seen in the City of Silver.

His face was wrinkled and serene, but his dark eyes gleamed with a cunning light, proving that he was not as kind as he appeared.

This is an old man. After seeing the person clearly, everyone had this word in their mind:

old.

Apart from the saints with long lives, the Silver City is made up of young adults, middle-aged people, and children. There are very few people who are truly "aged". There are too few people who have lost their fertility, hunting ability, and have not been fatally injured, and who have enough food to support them. Yudel, the old man who was parasitized by Amon and whom Derrick met at the bottom of the round tower, has already experienced extremely rare natural aging.

The steady light came from the lantern in the old man's hand, which seemed to be an extraordinary object.

As they looked at the old man, he also looked at them. The old man smiled and said:
"Hello."

"I come from the Emerald City, bringing the will of the Great Lord."

They used Giant language, which was rational and communicative... but these were cultists from other cities who believed in evil gods! The patrol team was horrified, but their bodies were completely out of control, as stiff as if they had turned into stone. The old man still had a peaceful smile on his face. He pulled out a sparkling piece of jewelry from his collar and held it in front of the patrol team.

It was a cross made of silver.

It is the sign of the Lord!
As the light enveloped them, the patrol teams' consciousness began to dissipate, and their vigilance was unconsciously purified.

"Lambs, I ask you on behalf of the Lord: Has a child been born in your city with a strange sign?"

The Holy Word Angel quietly waited for the patrol team to speak. Half a year ago, He had come here and asked the patrol team at that time, but He did not get the answer He wanted.

"In our city..." One of them opened his eyes wide and spoke involuntarily.

"A child is about to be born...our chief said..." Another person, whose mind was also controlled, added.

"He is a little angel who brings good luck..."

The Holy Word Angel suddenly opened his eyes wide, and then smiled. The shackles on the patrol team disappeared instantly, and they woke up as if from a dream, and once again took a vigilant fighting posture in front of Stiver.

"Don't be nervous. I am a guest from the Emerald City, your compatriot, and the Lord's shepherd."

The lantern in Stifer's hand shone with warm and bright light, shining on the few people, quietly dissolving their vigilance and negative emotions. Seeing that they still refused to give in, Stifer smiled slightly and took a step back, retreating to the boundary between the firelight and the shadow.

"I'll be waiting about 500 meters away."

"I want to meet your chief."

TBC
------

The day after giving up participating in the Aurora Club's Outstanding Employee Selection, Trena received a thank-you letter signed by the gods' messengers.

The letter highly praised Treanor as an honorable, noble, devoted and friendly fellow citizen who was above vulgar tastes. He was a role model of the Aurora Society, the dream of the messengers of God, and a well-deserved outstanding Lamb of the Lord!
Traynor burned the letter after reading it, and wrote himself another resignation letter and stamped it just in case.

(End of this chapter)