They all call me an Outer God.

Chapter 139 The Person Who Tampered with Prayer

So our target is this clown?

"Ow."

"We can only pray that the sun will protect him from changing his outfit."

Ria's eyes caught sight of the man's bounty—58,000,000, meaning "fifty-eight silver coins."

Suddenly, the young man's eyes brightened, and his gaze toward the person in the portrait was no longer filled with hostility, but rather as if he were a long-lost friend or relative.

"He's such a good man! Why should people hate him?"

Ria couldn't wait to see the philanthropist, but true hunters prefer to act at night, so Ria decided to wait a while longer. In the meantime, he decided to order himself and little Swarth a delicious dinner.

……

Stars had already appeared in the sky, and the dark red of the setting sun blended perfectly with the pitch black of the night, almost stealing all the colors from the city.

Several children were running along the road. They had agreed to explore an abandoned park, mainly because one of them had made a bet that would determine where they would spend the night.

"What's so scary about an abandoned park? Are we going to encounter ghosts?"

"Stop talking! I feel like we're about to die!"

"You're such a coward."

The children ran and jostled each other to the park, where many of the playground equipment were abandoned and covered with red rust and dust.

A giant tire, once a favorite swing for children, is tied to the bottom of an iron frame. Now it sways slowly in the wind, causing the iron frame at the top to creak and groan.

There are metal climbing frames, slides, trampolines with large holes in the fabric, and children's innocent graffiti, but now the graffiti has faded, and the paint has slid down the walls and onto the ground like colorful tears.

The streetlights next to the park also seemed to be in disrepair, their lights flickering, and several flying insects gathered below, fluttering their wings.

A parasitic plant took a lamppost as a tree to lean on, but when it grew to a certain size, it found that there was no nutrition to steal from it, and it could only wither away.

Almost at first glance, the children were terrified. They screamed in regret and cried, wanting to run home. But then, they heard a creaking sound behind them.

It sounded like a wind-up toy being pulled, and suddenly, the children's hair stood on end. They turned their heads and were caught off guard by the brightly colored clown under the light.

The clown had a long-nosed toy in his left hand, which seemed to be his new belly doll. The sound of the clockwork coming from behind the toy was also coming from behind it.

He held a pair of pretty balloons in his right hand, each with a different design.

"Children, would you like a balloon?"

"..."

As if by some strange twist of fate, the children nodded as if in a trance. They were no longer afraid and walked towards the clown, each receiving their own balloon.

"Do you like it!?" the clown's belly puppet cried out.

"like……"

The children nodded in unison, and the next second, the clown suddenly shouted, "Bang!!!"

The balloons popped, and the children felt something warm mixed with solid matter splash onto their faces and clothes.

They then realized that the sound of the balloons popping was fake; it wasn't the balloons that exploded. It was the clown who exploded!

In an instant, everything happened so fast that the air seemed to freeze for a moment, until something semi-solid slid off a child's cheek and onto the ground.

"Paji."

"Ah ah ah ah ah--"

“Aa ...

The children snapped back to reality, crying and screaming, their expressions frantic as they scattered, covered in filth and strewn with brightly colored fabric fragments from the explosion.

They also threw the balloons into the sky, their patterns seemingly mocking something.

"A bunch of silly kids, how could I let you steal my paradise?"

The objects on the ground reassembled, and soon the clown was standing in the same spot again.

He walked into the park, sat on a giant tire, dangling his legs, a yellowed note dangling from his mouth.

"The things left behind by the white-masked men... What are those guys up to lately... I can't believe they just dropped a note by accident."

As he spoke, the clown pulled a flashlight from inside the tire and shone it on the note, somewhat unexpectedly discovering that it was a prayer about a certain being—

The supreme soul, whispering in the depths of chaos and darkness.

Wandering the world, witnessing the faceless (crossed out) unruly wanderer indulging in the allure of wealth and power,
Reconstructing nihilistic bliss, bestowing upon the dark truth of decadent pleasure, the embodiment of desire.
We sing praises of desire.

Offering flesh and blood (scratch that out) and gold.
Praise without face
With the Lord of Trade.

"What is this? They changed the original prayer and added 'trade' to the name of their deity. Could it be that they've switched faiths again?"

The clown flipped the note over and over, but found no other writing, and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"These people are really boring. How can they possibly use an existing prayer after making slight modifications? Prayers are unique to each faith, and you can't have a single wrong letter."

"But they're all wearing white masks now, why should I bother arguing with white masks?"

"Then another question arises: what is the purpose of the white-masked people giving me this? Is it just to show off their new faith?"

The Joker was completely baffled. He had no desire to get involved with the people in white masks, who never played by the rules and whose every move was unpredictable.

But it must be said that their actions successfully piqued the clown's curiosity, and he was eager to know if this brand-new prayer could be used properly.

"Those people want to use me for experiments, it's ridiculous. I may not die easily, but I'm not stupid."

"You want me to test the authenticity of the prayer, so I'll just have to disgust you by using the original prayer to wish your leader a speedy reunion with the radiant sun."

The Faceless One, whom the White Mask Cult once worshipped, was quite unique. He seemed to be a fabricated god, but reciting his prayers could indeed attract his attention, which shocked everyone who had contact with the supernatural at the time.

Those who follow confused beliefs spread the prayers everywhere, and no one could stop them. As a result, some people tried them and actually got what they wanted. In their joy, they also became new followers of the White Mask, and their faces became empty.

People are furious, but they can't do anything about it. Now, the clown is going to try this plan.

He doesn't believe pollution is effective against him, which may stem from his confidence in his power and his affirmation of his own will.

(End of this chapter)