They all call me an Outer God.

Chapter 142 You Owe Me Money

Stones, bedbugs, walls, brooms, rats, fish...

Each time something was destroyed, these wicked people would cheer loudly, and the clown finally couldn't bear it any longer and let out a scream that was almost a roar, with tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.

At this moment, his features gradually blurred as tears streamed down his face, like colored snow melting in the heat, each inch of melting accompanied by cheers from the white-masked cultists.

"These are all gifts from God, and everything we experience is a blessing from Him."

“We praise the faceless Lord of trade, and may His kingdom come to earth, and may everyone enjoy true bliss under His guidance.”

"So His real name is now..."

“Lia Kelcha!”

“Lia Kelcha!”

“Lia Kelcha!”

The group excitedly stretched their arms upwards, shouting Ria's full name, while the clown slowly stood up, his facial features fading to almost nothing.

Nevertheless, he can still speak normally.

The clown's scales continued to grow, and the tentacles on his chest seemed to have lost their vitality, gradually shrinking and disappearing.

“He will not hear what we are saying, and He refuses to acknowledge such a title.”

"Can anyone really refuse the name of God? No, since someone has chosen to become a god now, we will help him to the end."

He couldn't refuse.

"He cannot refuse!"

The group started arguing noisily, but the clown suddenly said, "If we recite the prayer of Faceless and Trade, do you think He will appear?"

"Ah, are you stupid? This can't happen. We've tried so many times, and every time we've only failed."

On one occasion, several of our members even had their lives sacrificed, yet the ritual array showed no reaction whatsoever, demonstrating that the current prayers are unreliable.

"Then why do the prayers of other gods work?"

"It is said that those are things that have been circulating in banned books for a long time, but would we like that kind of thing? If we are going to do it, it must be unique."

Hahaha... Congratulations, you're now one of us!

"I will also congratulate myself—to celebrate this day, I want to give each and every one of you a hug."

The clown spoke excitedly, reaching out to hug the person next to him tightly. The person was initially very excited, but soon, with a "rip," his body was suddenly pierced by the black tentacles on the clown's chest.

"Oh!"

The clown happily released his grip, and more tentacles sprouted from his body, while the white-masked cultist collapsed to the ground in shock, motionless.

“I want to say that if you want your prayers to be effective, isn’t it enough to just sacrifice a few lives? At the very least, the entire church should be sacrificed.”

The clown's face was now covered with fluffy feathers and golden eyes; he was no longer himself, but Little Swarth.

Ria injected Swaal's tentacles into the Joker's body, allowing them to patiently erode the Joker's consciousness, and everything the white-masked man did next greatly helped.

They destroy the Joker's consciousness, allowing Little Swarth to find the meme card the Joker has sewn into his skin and then roll it into his tentacles.

Having done all this, it became increasingly annoyed with the white-masked man, and with a flick of its tentacle, it flung a group of people against the wall, then detached itself from the clown's body and crawled away like countless snakes.

The exit was just ahead. The "snakes" gradually gathered into one, slowly growing wings, heads, and claws.

It spread its wings, trying to fly away, but an arrow suddenly pierced its body and knocked it to the ground. The arrowhead pinned it to the wall. Little Swarth frantically flapped its body, feeling as if it had suddenly fallen in love with the wall and couldn't bear to leave, but this only lasted a moment.

Soon, it managed to remove the effects of the pollution and return to normal through its own will. However, before it could decompose into tentacles, even more arrows were shot at it.

"Aa ...

In the moment of crisis, the mythical creature suddenly opened its mouth wide and let out a piercing scream.

The cry caused the arrows to lose momentum and fall to the ground. Crimson blood seeped from the ears of the believers, who felt as if countless alien insects were gnawing at their brains, causing them immense pain.

At that moment, a figure appeared at the doorway.

Ria stood outside the door, her hands gripping the handle of her cane.

"See, I told you it's more convenient to catch them all at once. Besides, hunting doesn't have to involve fighting and killing. Peace is a virtue."

As he spoke, he looked at the group of people in front of him, and the more he looked, the more he felt that everything about them was strange.

"Never mind... I don't know why, but seeing you makes me want to kill you all. I'd rather you all die together."

"Goo."

Little Swarth transformed into a tentacle, escaped the arrow's grasp, and returned to Ria's body, incidentally extending a tentacle to hand him something.

This is the Joker meme card.

The card depicts a conjoined black and white clown playing with a large ball covered in smiling faces. He has two heads, one with a smiling face and the other with an angry face.

Only their clothes, noses, and angry faces retained color: red and green striped clown costumes, green pointed shoes with red pom-poms, and comical star hats, which fully expressed the emotions on their colorful bodies.

The back of the card is pure gray, with a square symbol in the upper right corner.

Clearly, this is a meme eight card.

"Performing is not so easy. It seems that I still have a long way to go before I reach Meme Seven."

Ria put away the cards and discovered that the Joker was still alive.

The cultists stared at him, motionless, as if in a daze. Ria pointed his gun at them, but they still didn't react.

He was so stunned that he looked like a dying rabbit.

It's obvious there's something wrong with this, but whatever the white-masked guys do makes sense, and Ria is too lazy to guess their thought process.

Sharp tentacles suddenly emerged from the four walls, piercing them all. The young man turned and left. A moment later, a mechanical voice rang out, and the people of Order had been informed and found the place.

However, when they approached the group of white-masked cultists, they all stopped breathing.

All the healthy people among them had died, and the patients all left on their own, with no one discovering their escape route.

The Joker's figure was undoubtedly the most twisted. The meme card was not destroyed, and he did not die. However, death would have been a better outcome at this moment.

The association members exchanged glances and confirmed through identity verification that the clown was indeed the criminal they were looking for.

There was a note on the ground.

"This guy has nothing to do with the Disorderly Ones; it was the Disorderly Ones who caught him for you."

Secondly, you owe me fifty-eight silver coins.

(End of this chapter)