They all call me an Outer God.

Chapter 183 Red House

Ria noticed that the facial features of the person on the ground were gradually disappearing. Then, he suddenly stood up and shouted something like, "I am the leader! I am the leader!"

This startled Ria.

"Hahaha, I am the cult leader! The only cult leader! Praise be to Faceless!"

"..."

His current appearance reminded Ria of something unpleasant, so she kicked him to the ground and removed the mysterious item from his ear.

This thing can block out sound pollution, but Ria didn't know what the cost was, so she asked Birdwin directly, "What's the name of this thing, and what's the cost?"

"What price could there be for the red earplugs? There is no price. The cult leader never needs to pay a price for using things, and you, Faceless, need even less."

Now put this on your ears, and you can dance until you drop at night! How wonderful that would be!

"Then how come you're alright?"

“I can have someone else dance for me. I enjoy watching people dance until they're exhausted late at night. It makes me feel like I'm the new emperor of Endeles.”

The man was so happy that he thrashed around on the ground like a fish that had just been pulled ashore. Ria now seriously suspected that the White Mask group's madness was due to the influence of the Faceless Ones.

Besides the Faceless Ones, Gain's manipulation was also an essential part, but now that they are dead, Ria has no interest in rebuilding a White Mask Church.

"When I become interested in forming a church, I might be able to come up with a new name... but not now."

Trade today does not need the church; it is free.

He stomped on the man's head: "Tell me, who is the real owner of your factory?!"

"What factory owner? I am the only factory owner! Bah! I am also the leader—even if you are Faceless, you can't treat the leader like this!!!"

"Not going to talk? Are these things enough to make you open your mouth?"

Lia took a bag of money out of his pocket, and then suddenly tilted the bag downwards.

"Clatter, crash, crash!"

The clear clanging of metal was so pleasant to hear in the workshop.

These were all silver coins, countless silver coins scattered on the ground. Upon hearing this sound, Birdwin immediately became energetic.

"Money...money! All of this is for me! Hahahaha, money!"

The man laughed wildly, trying to grab all the silver coins into his arms. Ria pressed down harder on his foot, making the man's skull crack.

"you have not answer my question yet."

"Alright! I'll tell you, the real factory owner is in that room next to the chimney."

He's been paralyzed for years; his presence makes no difference to me. Now he's giving me all this stuff—”

"can."

Lia loosened her foot and watched as he scooped up all the silver coins on the ground and put them into his money bag. Then, he held onto the money bag tightly and kept praising the name of trade.

Lia casually snatched the money pouch and turned away, ignoring him completely.

The workshop was eerily quiet except for the roar of the machines. Birdwin, having lost his facial features, remained in the posture of clutching a money bag, rubbing the non-existent money bag against his face.

The others in the workshop finally realized they should be gripped by fear. They wanted to escape, but when they reached the door, Birdwin blocked their way, making them afraid to move again.

"Why don't you join me in praising the great Lord of Trade, the true guardian of commerce and money? With Him, I have an endless stream of money. Do you see what I have in my hands? It's all gold! All gold!"

He was incredibly excited, but everyone present could see clearly that Birdwin had nothing in his hands.

This is something that cannot be understood.

Now that everyone has lost Birdwin as their "backbone," they are truly starting to feel afraid.

But Ria didn't care what they thought; he had already successfully found the place Birdwin had mentioned.

Right beneath that chimney, which is tens of meters in diameter, stands a small house.

This house is a residential building, only one story high, built with red bricks, and the front door is also sealed with red bricks.

Lia stood in front of it, knocked on the "door" a few times to show friendliness, then glanced at the still-normal black smoke above, and violently demolished the door.

Destroying those bricks wasn't too difficult, and Ria quickly made an entrance and crawled inside.

He lit the kerosene lamp and lifted it slightly to examine the interior.

"This treatment doesn't seem like how you would treat a paralyzed person. Even if the former boss was paralyzed, people wouldn't lock him up in a house now."

In no time, Lia found a bed inside. The bed was covered in dust, but the blanket and pillow were still there. Someone was lying face up on it, half-covered by the blanket, with their hands crossed over their shoulders.

This person was also covered in dust, looking like an elderly man who had been struggling with addiction for a long time. He had age spots on his head and not much gray hair left.

"Cough-cough-"

Lia coughed twice, covering his mouth and nose, but the next second the person suddenly opened his eyes and looked at him.

For a moment, the two stared at each other. Unfortunately, many eyes were open on Ria's face, making it impossible to pretend to be normal now.

"How...long...have I...slept?"

The old man struggled to swallow and asked the question.

"do not know."

Lia answered honestly, and as he looked at the flickering flame inside the kerosene lamp, he couldn't help but ask, "Why are you locked up here?"

"Because...the factory needs me."

The old man was unable to move, but he could communicate: "I am sick, very sick. Everyone tells me I should die, but I am not willing to accept it. No one is willing to die from an illness."

"and then?"

“Someone told me that I could draw on the lives of others as fuel and, incidentally, have them purify my diseases. That person placed me here. I remember I was very young that year; who knew that in the blink of an eye, I would be so old…”

His eyes were cloudy: "Have I lived this long, or did I become like this in an instant...? I can't figure it out."

"Don't you get bored being locked up here? Or is it..."

Ria narrowed her eyes: "Is the black smoke outside related to you, or even a derivative of your consciousness?"

He didn't voice this conjecture, but the old man continued talking to himself, as if he hadn't spoken to anyone for too long and needed to say something to feel better.

“I hate my illness… No one would want to have something that forces them to live under someone else’s control. Someone is demanding that I oppress the poor; the worse they are, the greater my chances of survival.”

I don't know if I've lived a very long time, but every time I wake up, I feel like I can hear the souls of those people wailing at me.

(End of this chapter)