I, the leader of the esoteric sect, am doing great things in the infinite world!

The wanted poster for the exile contained only this one line of blood-red words.

Compared to the previous photograph, the exile looked different on the wanted poster: she sported a 20th-century frilly bob, and her eyes held a new light. She was still wearing the suit she wore when she escaped from the Liquidators, but no longer buttoned it up; instead, it was open, revealing large expanses of fair skin. She still loved feathers and cheap pearl necklaces, which adorned her petite frame like a tattered gown.

A faint smile played on her lips, and the scent of citrus enveloped her. She pointed the gun at someone, sending them to their demise.

The exiles last appeared two months ago in Granada, a city in southern Spain, at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, where the Darjo and Genil rivers meet. There, the air is cold and clean, the streets are quiet and white, the terraces are green and green, and the mountains overlook everything.

She must have loved the place so much that she stayed there for too long. Someone spotted her and took a picture of her in front of an art gallery in Granada.

Although the exile quickly shot and killed the reckless informant, her trail had been exposed. Within a day, dozens of liquidators entered Granada from neighboring countries and cities. Fortunately, the exile was very vigilant. She abandoned almost all her possessions at once and left the city overnight with minimal belongings.

This issue alone took up many pages with the liquidator and his daughter, giving Li Lin reason to suspect that the liquidator was maliciously manipulating the rankings.

Fortunately, the liquidator's page has already passed, and the next page is a paper analyzing history.

Starting with an exploration of the Battle of Issus, the author envisions a possibility: if Alexander the Great and Darius III had not fought the final decisive battle in the Battle of Issus, which determined the fate of the two great empires, or if Alexander the Great had never reached the Persian Empire due to various obstacles, then history would have taken a different turn.

It is highly likely that this will give rise to a millennia-old empire located at the geographical center of the world, spanning three continents: Europe, Asia, and Africa.

Honestly, Li Lin could write a hundred or so papers like this, such as "He Changed England" and "Charlemagne at the Turning Point of History"... Questions like "If Zhuge Liang had 100 million packs of instant noodles, could he have successfully launched the Northern Expedition and restored the Han Dynasty?" and "If the Song Dynasty had 10,000 Maxim guns, could it have swept across the grasslands?" are everywhere.

Li Lin carefully examined the author's name and title: Natalia Long, Doctor of History, Invited by the London Anti-Suppression Bureau.

It turns out to be the notoriously difficult detective Dr. Long from the game. Oh well, with my status as a member of the Anti-Corruption Bureau, I'm not afraid to write ten or eight papers, let alone one.

However, given the cautionary tale of academic parasites like Dr. Long, why not do the same? Earning money and fame through manuscript submissions is a win-win situation.

The next section is a brief introduction to the secret teachings.

All knowledge in the world has its source, and knowledge has power, which divides them into levels and classes.

From lowest to highest, they are: fragments, incomplete texts, apocryphal texts, and canonical texts.

The fragmented secret teachings have a maximum of three levels, with severe gaps and breaks between them, and can only be used to complete a few advancements.

The rarity of incomplete secret manuals far surpasses that of the former. Generally speaking, most immortals possess incomplete secret manuals, which have a relatively complete system and corresponding rituals. Among them, advanced secret manuals can reach level five or even level six.

The pseudo-canonical secrets are held by those with names. These secrets not only have a complete system from level one to seven, but also complete rituals. They are called pseudo-canonical only because they are still under the supervision of the Sichen.

As long as Sichen lives, the canon belonging to the thirty otherworldly gods will not be judged as false, and that knowledge will remain valid forever.

"Isn't this just the card draw level?" Li Lin suddenly realized, then a hint of confusion appeared in his eyes.

Why was such an important setting released so late...?

67. As long as it's consensual, it doesn't count as hiring a ghostwriter.

Li Lin didn't leave his house for the next few days, which was great news for the suffering disciples of the Reconstruction Hand.

Inside the room, Mr. Li once again put down his pen. As a severe procrastinator and a Vienna national treasure-level loser, it took him nearly an hour to write just two hundred words. Most of the time, Li Lin was engrossed in the dark green desktop and "Silence".

Playing with things leads to the loss of one's ambition.

Forget-Me-Not outside the door frowned slightly. Li Lin's unusual refusal to leave the house made him uneasy, especially after learning that Li Lin had been marked by a certain immortal. He even took the initiative to stop real-time monitoring of Li Lin, fearing retaliation in the future.

I don't know anything about Li Lin, but Li Lin's revenge is, in some ways, far more terrifying than that of an immortal.

"Chao, I'm not writing anymore!"

An angry Li Lin crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the trash can again. Suddenly, he remembered his long-lost patron, Alan Dickens, and his eyes lit up.

Li Lin opened the door excitedly and saw Forget-Me-Not standing alone by the railing not far away. Her slender figure was like a water lily, shyly trembling in the cool breeze.

Li Lin walked over, pulled out a crowbar, and stabbed it straight into the forget-me-not's buttocks. The forget-me-not, who was posing by the railing, jumped away instantly. Compared to not finishing posing, being stabbed in the buttocks with a crowbar was more painful.

Since Li Lin arrived at Walden Pond Bar, Forget-Me-Not's decades-long composure has been completely lost in just a few days.

"I want to go out."

Li Lin shouted loudly.

Forget-Me-Not took a deep breath: "If you want to go out, you can just say so. There's no need to use these extreme measures." Since coercive measures were ineffective against Li Lin, the only option was to use gentle methods to make Li Lin develop a positive impression and sense of belonging to the Reshaping Hand.

Li Lin glanced at him sideways and said, "Are you sick?" Then, before the forget-me-not could react, he grabbed the fruit plate in front of the counter and ran away.

Outside the Danube Daily newspaper office, Benjamin was standing at the crossroads, rubbing his stomach. He was planning to have lunch at the small café across the street when a figure quickly approached him from the outside.

"Hehehehehehe." A very familiar, sinister laugh came from afar and then faded away, disappearing before Benjamin could react.

Benjamin shuddered in fright, instinctively thinking he was seeing a ghost and looking up at the sky. After seeing that it was bright daylight and there was nothing unusual around him, he became suspicious and thought that he was hallucinating due to too much stress.

He took a step forward, stepped on a banana peel, and slipped and fell.

Li Lin, having succeeded in his wicked scheme, disappeared with a sly grin at the newspaper office entrance.

In the newspaper building, Alan Dickens had his own office. As one of the top guest writers for The Danube Daily and several other newspapers, Dickens had every right to be meticulous about his treatment.

After catching a passerby and asking for directions, Li Lin, carrying the nearly empty fruit platter, pushed open Dickens's office door.

“Hello, may I ask who you are... Mr. Hunter?” Dickens looked up with a smile, appearing quite gracious. “Perfect timing. My writing for this week has come to an end, and soon you will see our protagonist show off his skills.”

"Great!"

After shouting, Li Lin remembered the purpose of his meeting with Dickens: "I ask you, if I gave Darius III 10,000 Maxim machine guns, could he win the Battle of Issus? Please write an essay of no less than 15,000 words on this topic. The style is not limited, except for poetry."

Dickens dropped his pen on the table with a thud, looked up at Li Lin blankly, and his eyes were full of doubt.

"Or, to put it another way, if I were to provide Constantine XI with a thousand tanks in 1453, could I restore Rome's glory and witness the Roman Empire's lightning-fast return? Please write an essay of no less than 20,000 words on this topic, in any style except poetry."

After some time, Dickens stammered, "I think... this topic is very unrealistic from the start."

"I don't care what you think, I care what I think," Li Lin chuckled slyly. "So help me write it."

Dickens complained in distress, “But I’ve just finished writing the manuscript…you know, I don’t want to move at all right now.”

"Damn it, this is utter laziness! You're not even working on your writing every moment, and you don't even have the slightest thought of creating a masterpiece. I—I'm disappointed. I'm—disappointed. I'm—disappointed. I'm—disappointed—!"

He repeated it four times, emphasizing each word, with each emphasis being different, which was enough to show how deep Li Lin's love and hatred were.

"Alright. Alright. I can write it for you, but what's the price?" Dickens succumbed to the daunting promises Li Lin made. To be fair, he was quite interested in the topics Li Lin raised; even amidst the absurdity, there was a hint of academic rigor. After all, what man wouldn't want to play with historical deduction?

Li Lin subconsciously retorted, "I was the one who provided the inspiration and the beginning. As the saying goes, the beginning is always the hardest. You should pay me."

“That makes sense,” Dickens thought for a moment. “How about we split the royalties fifty-fifty?”

“If we had pounds, I’d definitely split it 50/50 with you,” Li Lin boasted. After all, “Silence” never used pounds or dollars for payment; the mysterious world had its own general equivalent.

"Row."

Dickens, who had been tricked by Li Lin, pulled out his pen, unscrewed the cap, spread out the manuscript paper, and began to work: "Come to my place in three days to pick up the manuscript."

As Li Lin passed Benjamin's work station, he tossed a banana peel under his chair.

......

Satisfied with finding the gunman, Li Lin returned to Walden Pond Bar, once again stealing a fruit platter under the resentful gaze of the bartender at the front desk, before locking the doors and windows and lying down on the bed.

Today is the day of our agreed-upon online gathering at Mansu, and Li Lin, who always keeps his word, has no intention of breaking it.

Focusing his attention on the dark green tabletop that had risen before him, Li Lin dragged [Path: Desolate Sanctuary] once more. His consciousness gradually traversed the harmonious darkness, enveloped by the vast colorless starlight, and passed through the flowing cobalt blue night mist and wind, returning to the overgrown mountaintop clearing.

At this moment, there was no one else here except Li Lin.

He picked up three cards from the table and threw them into the empty space in front of him.

......

Arknights world, Terra, Chernobog core area.

Talulah lay on the bed, staring straight at the ceiling above her head. Suddenly, colorless starlight rose from all around, enveloping her body. The starlight carried her upward, passing through many obstacles. When she opened her eyes again, the strange yet familiar mountaintop clearing and the ruins of the collapsed temple reappeared before her eyes.

Unlike last time, everyone present was covered by a layer of cobalt blue night mist, which perfectly concealed their appearance. The mist in the cave seemed to have a hidden special effect, so much so that no matter how hard Talulah concentrated, she could not discern any familiar features from the people in front of her.

At this moment, the figure shrouded in cobalt blue night mist opposite Talulah suddenly spoke.

"I have to tell you some unfortunate news with heavy hearts: the name of our gathering has already been taken. Fortunately, we are all secret cults, so no one would be foolish enough to apply for a patent."

He paused for a moment, then added, "So it's not too late for us to change our name to Tarot Club, really."

Alright, this guy is definitely Li Lin.

68 Online Party

“I’ve been stabbed, I am the King Killer,” Li Linzhang blurted out.

The figure standing to Talulah's left jumped up and hit Li Lin: "Don't use my code name to do bad things!"

Although their appearance and voices become indistinguishable when they are in hiding, their unique speaking styles still allow Talulah to recognize each other... Perhaps if there were more people, the difficulty of recognition would increase exponentially.

Nian was quite curious about this effect: "This is secrecy... Isn't this the power of the god of concealment and mist? I remember that He seems to have an unnamed named being in the mortal world who can also exercise the power of secrecy."

Of the thirty extant diviners, the diviner who governs the 2 o'clock hour is the Silky Flax, also known as the Black Flax, whose domain is the heart and the moth.

The title of Sinnoh includes the phrase "God of Hiddenness and Mist," which actually refers to His hidden authority.

"Can stealth be used in the real world?" she turned to ask Li Lin. "If it were in the real world, sufficient stealth would allow you to accomplish many things. As for the Reshaping Hand you just mentioned—there's also an organization in the real world with the same name as us?"

“The answer is no, but I can go back and try,” Li Lin replied. “I suggest we stop calling it the Hand of Reshaping; they’ve offered me ten thousand pounds to buy it off.”

“I can give you 10,000 Lungmen dollars for a mere 10,000 pounds.”

"Can 10,000 Lungmen dollars be compared to 10,000 pounds? I laughed." Li Lin started to be sarcastic. "Those 10,000 pounds can actually be exchanged for gold bars."

Talulah retorted, dissatisfied: "Lungmen Dollars can also be exchanged for Crimson Gold Bars."