World Occult Usage Guide

Chapter 311 The Ones Who Benefited from the Ending
The patterns on the python's body shattered, and Lin An, having gone through six cycles of reincarnation, was peeled off like film, falling into the bottomless water, becoming an untraceable past.

The world fell into darkness, and he was enveloped in pure darkness.

This is a dark space, where his naked eye and the perspective of "God's One Eye" are rendered useless.

Lin An could only raise the middle finger of Fatima's hand, while shadows whispered in his ear.

"The less you see, the more you think."

These words were in the ancient Bantu language used by the Creator God's fingers. Lin An was familiar with them. After carefully examining them, he guessed that he had entered the world after death.

Because the prophet's memory is severely damaged, this place is in a daze, filled with bizarre and fantastical phenomena.

The characteristic of the Southern Continent Ancestral Spirit archetype is that the mysterious beings possess the memories of their ancestors, saving them some time in learning about the "Comermes" world. The disadvantage is that it makes people highly unstable mentally and easily lose their original personality and thoughts.

Listening closely, Lin An found a heavenly sound, a captivating voice like a sacred hymn.

Is it Mezzo?

"when."

His foot kicked something on the ground, which appeared to be a ceramic pot.

Lin An squatted down, revealing three eggs and two clumps of fine powder inside. Mei Zuo stopped singing and instead spoke.

"Smear white lime on your face."

"it is good."

Lin An did as instructed, using the paint from the pottery jar to draw circles around his eyes, which enabled him to see things beyond the material world.

The light perception has recovered somewhat, but it is still very faint.

Looking around, he found himself in the indigo sky, as serene as the sea, possessing his own light and colors—red, blue, and white, as beautiful as a richly colored medieval oil painting.

Wherever his gaze fell, streaks of white light flashed by. Lin An used the corner of his eye to see a huge rock standing not far away, like a head of a forest god carved by a skilled craftsman, guarding an ancient secret.

The soft light sculpted a pair of intelligent yet indifferent eyes onto this colossal head, gently soothed by the eternal shadows.

Lin An walked deeper into the direction of the statue, hearing the rustling sound of pythons crawling by, the tinkling of bells, and the flapping of wings. The wind was whispering, and he entered the cacophony of whispers.

Soon, he arrived at an open space.

In the stillness, a group of slender figures formed a white circle, each wearing a mask inlaid with jewels.

The figures were motionless, incredibly quiet, with their long necks stretched out, adorned with all sorts of diamonds and crystals that sparkled on their slender necks.

As the wind changes in strength, the colors of the gemstones sometimes sparkle and sometimes fade.

The gentle bells jingled again, and the soft, low singing echoed slightly as the wind rose again in the forest.

Before Lin An could examine the masks of these people closely, a thin blue mist veiled them and slowly approached him in an indistinct shadow.

Lin An knew these things were called "Minkisi," wooden statues made of ceramics, cloth, and wood, adorned with ornate jewelry and knotted belts, used for worship or to be buried in place of the dead, representing the image of the soul in the eyes of the living.

They have no fixed form; they can be any ghost that died at any point in time.

It's time to use the second sense of Fatima's Hand—touch.

The sense of touch is located in the little finger. Lin An raised this finger and used it to brush across the faces of the figures one by one, until he touched a unique indentation on the face of a certain person.

This is a mask commissioned by Lin An to be made by the holy blacksmith Fenz. Misuru used the awakened Nomo to draw a series of patterns on the surface of the mask.

These symbols appear in the form of puns or symbols, such as a cross with circles at both ends representing the four times of the sun.

It can serve as a refuge for troubled souls and maintain order.

"Who are you? Who am I?"

Feeling Lin An's touch, the figure in front of him muttered to himself.

"I am the [Forest Ranger], and your name is Zai."

Upon hearing those two words, the figure's breathing quickened, and he gripped Lin An tightly, shaking him repeatedly. His extreme pain and silence were conveyed through his body language.

"What have I forgotten? Tell me, what have I forgotten?"

“Zai, I too was once possessed by some godlike, lingering memories. They not only influenced my words and actions, but also forced me onto a predetermined path…”

Lin An gently patted its trembling arm, and Zai seemed to gradually calm down.

"But please believe me, only by forgetting them can a person truly live."

"Living...I...I...I..."

The flickering lights filled the darkness, spinning rapidly before Lin An's eyes. Then the wind shifted, and the figure released Lin An's hand. From the empty eye sockets behind the mask, a cluster of yellow things resembling flower stamens grew.

He spoke, his voice harsh and grating, carrying an overwhelming sense of death.

"Can I survive? I'm the only one..."

"Everyone can survive."

The figure remained silent for a long time before tiptoeing forward. Lin An followed behind him, breathing deeply into the vast, velvety starry sky, the soft sounds of hooves and footsteps echoing around him.

The mysterious and distant silence was broken, and the air became an invisible wall. Lin An heard something suddenly crack, and fragments gathered into waves of sound.

Countless dead people let out mournful cries, mixed with sorrow, shouts, sobs, and regrets. Their endless lamentations, their threats, their betrayals, and their eternal dreams were all heard.

They were furious, listing out all the lives they should have had, but now they could only be unfortunate, unburied souls, crying out for justice. Lies and silence were like nails driven into their dreams, and their sighs were full of meaning.

"Those voices are calling me back." The figure stopped in his tracks.

A cluster of yellow flowers grew on his head, and Lin An quietly gazed at the familiar color.

"Ignore them, just go your own way."

Having received his affirmation, the figure sighed with relief and removed his mask as he spoke.

"Okay, I've decided to live."

A series of rhythmic purple lights poured down on Lin An, and he discovered that the yellow flowers in the figure's eye sockets and on the top of his head were in full bloom, covering the entire head, a riot of color.

"Boom!"

A deafening roar followed, and the energy in the surrounding space collapsed like dominoes, shattering into countless fragments. A chill ran through him, and when Lin An opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the Lambridge Hotel office, the place where he had awakened countless times from fragments of time.

Unlike the usual time of day, the weather outside the window was no longer gloomy and rainy, but sunny and bright.

I'm finally out.

A warm, soft embrace immediately came from behind Lin An, and the aroma of cola coffee filled his nostrils, making him feel safe and comfortable.

"Lin, you're back."

Mezo buried his head in Lin An's waist, rubbing against him like a puppy.

…………

In Kinsasha's presidential palace, Tshisekedi opened his eyes.

His face turned deathly pale, and his hair fell to the ground strand by strand, instantly turning his thick, short hair into Cheng Liang's bald head.

This is the consequence of using mystical arts.

"I succeeded... but why do I feel so uneasy?"

After a long silence, the president changed his sitting posture, raising his left and right hands alternately to touch his brow. The energy of the palm tree surrounded him, solidifying into the shapes of nails, blades, or other sharp objects at each of his vital points.

The moonlight reflected off the wall, creating shimmering ripples, and Tshisekedi placed his hands on his abdomen.

This area is obscured by a clear mirror, the glass representing "another world" where the soul of the deceased resides, and the reflection inside shows the general shape of a woman.

"Pfft!"

Once the woman's appearance stabilized, Zisekdi gritted his teeth, and all the floating sharp objects pierced his body. The wounds did not flow with bright red blood, but with resin that carried a faint fragrance.

They fell onto the mirror, tracing the woman's silhouette, like seeds that allowed her soul to replicate itself.

Her face bears a three- or four-point resemblance to the president, yet there are subtle differences from previous female images.

It's okay, minor errors can be corrected with makeup.

Tsysekdi applied the prepared white sediment to the resin, forming a protective film, like an eggshell, that completely enveloped the lifelike human figure.

finished.

He breathed a sigh of relief and was about to unveil the new female body when, just as his fingertips touched the white sediment, a spiderweb-like crack appeared with a "crack".

"what happened?"

Cracks covered the surface of the eggshell from top to bottom, and as if that wasn't enough, they spread across the office carpet until they filled the entire room and every nook and cranny.

"You are--"

Tsekedi's pupils contracted, and just as he was about to say something, a hairy arthropod thigh touched his throat.

"Shh, don't make a sound, this is bad for you."

A voice, as ordinary and docile as a sheep, rang out. In the darkness, Tshisekedi saw the other person smiling, with six narrow eyes squinting into slits.

His hands and feet immediately turned cold.

The mystery of Cicecodi has a flaw: it can only maximize its power if it has both male and female counterparts.

When his two clones merge, his personality becomes irritable and easily angered, and his fighting style becomes chaotic and incoherent, only hindering each other.

Most importantly, he could no longer escape death by creating a clone.

This was when he was at his weakest.

But now is the perfect time to launch an attack...

"Did the Black City send you to kill me?" After a long standoff, Qisekedi asked through gritted teeth.

"Well, I'm an investigator appointed by Mr. Metalont; as for killing you, it was commissioned by 'Afonso III'."

"The head of the Red Poppy Merchant Guild?" Zisekdi was completely taken aback to hear this name. "How did he come to this?"

"To avenge employees and demand justice, isn't that the best kind of boss?"

"..."

“Just kidding, here’s the thing. A few days ago, Alfonso III divined your fate through the stars and foresaw your impending death, so he told Mr. Metaront about it.”

“Metalont has always been a man of honor and couldn’t bear to see you die. Since Alfonso III’s prophecy is related to the ‘New Seven Deadly Sins’, he believes that as long as you are banished, the predetermined future can be avoided.”

"However, this made Alfonso III less than pleased."

"What I can't understand is that he clearly has no grudge against me, nor any conflict of interest with me."

The goosebumps on Tshisekedi's throat had turned into allergic measles, making his whole body itchy, but he couldn't reach out to scratch them.

The man let out a chilling laugh and began to speak in a sinister tone.

"The power of a 'prophet' depends on 'faith.' The god of fate granted Alfonso III the power of divination, which is why he was able to predict your death. So, once he changed your death through divination, it means that his previous prediction of death was wrong."

"Doesn't this mean that the ability given to him by fate is invalid? Since the ability to foresee is invalid from the beginning, then the change of this outcome is also invalid."

"A simple logic problem, but your survival has put him in a difficult position."

Tshisekedi stood there, stunned, unsure of what to say. A sudden sense of unease washed over him, and he involuntarily shivered.

"But why does Alfonso III want to know when I will die? He and I have never crossed paths!"

"Who knows?"

"No...it's you! It can only be you!—Why!"

"It is love."

The man's seven legs rubbed against each other, shedding the accumulated dirt, and embraced Qisekedi as if in a hug. He brought his lips to Qisekedi's ear and blew a hot, moist breath into it.

"Because I want to win 'Lin's' love."

(End of this chapter)