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An icy cold voice spoke from behind him. “Who should you kill? You still don’t know after seeing this face?”

“…”

At that question, not only did all movement cease below the altar, but even the ball of ghost fire hanging above him froze in place.

“Did you forget? He is a god,” White No-Face reminded them amiably. “Which means—”

Before he could hear the rest, Xie Lian felt a chill wash over his chest. Stu

The blade was long and slender, and was colored a deep, black jade. Its central ridge reflected the light in a crisp silver line. The blade was every bit as dangerous and frigid as the coldest winter night. It was, without a doubt, a rare and treasured sword—the exact kind that Xie Lian would have once obsessed over obtaining and then never let leave his grasp.

Xie Lian couldn’t look away. The tip of the sword started to slowly inch back into his stomach until it disappeared once again.

“—His body is immortal,” White No-Face finished.

Before anyone had the chance to react, White No-Face tossed the blade toward the crowd of onlookers. Clang! The tip pierced the ground, and the sword stood at a slant before all those pairs of eyes. Its thick, frigid aura quietly permeated the air.

A rush of blood gushed up Xie Lian’s throat. The ball of ghost fire flew to him, pressing close as if trying to cover his wound.

Xie Lian choked on his bloody rage and gritted his teeth. “You… You!”

Lights danced in his vision. The ball of ghost fire shot straight at White No-Face as if suddenly furious. But White No-Face caught it effortlessly and held it captive within his palm.

“Watch,” he ordered the ghost fire. In the next second, White No-Face yanked Xie Lian’s head around so he was facing him. “And what about me? Aren’t you the one who proclaimed that you wanted to save the common people?”

“But! But I… I…” Xie Lian stammered.

But he had never thought that this would be the only way he could save people!

Below the altar, there were already some who were scared to tears by the bloody scene, but the bolder ones were still watching.

“Will… Will he really not die?!”

“It’s true… Look, there’s barely any blood… He’s still alive—still perfectly alive!”

Xie Lian was racked by another intense cough.

“So in other words, even if we kill him, he won’t die?!”

“That’s great!”

The one who cheered got scolded. “‘Great’?! What’s so great about this?!”

“Since he won’t be able to die…don’t we have a solution now?” the scolded person mumbled.

“But to stab someone, that’s so…”

“He’s a god! Even if he gets stabbed, he won’t die! We’re just ordinary people here. If we get infected with Human Face Disease, our fates are sealed!”

Watching the struggle unfold, White No-Face beckoned to Xie Lian. “The common people are here, waiting for you to save them. Please, go ahead.”

Anger blazed in Xie Lian’s eyes. “The only way to save the common people is to eradicate a twisted monster like you!”

White No-Face sneered. “What’s the matter? Your Highness, didn’t you boast to me so confidently of your inability to die? You couldn’t possibly be scared now. Since you can’t die, you can sacrifice yourself and relieve others of their suffering. Isn’t that a delightful thing?”



“Was this your plan all along?!” Xie Lian clicked his tongue. “Do you think that everyone in the world is as evil as you?!”

True to his words, the expressions of the people below weren’t the ecstatic ones of those that had been rescued; instead, they were hesitant and split. There were conflicting opinions on the matter, and the crowd had yet to come to any sort of decision—and no one yet dared to pull out the black blade.

As if reading his mind, White No-Face laughed out loud. He shook his head disapprovingly and sighed. “Silly child. Foolish child.”

Xie Lian twisted his head away and refused to let the creature pet him again. “Get lost!”

“You think they don’t want to do it?” White No-Face asked. “Wrong. It’s not that they don’t want to do it, it’s just that no one wants to go first.”

“Aaaaah!”

A devastated cry erupted from under the altar; it had come from the genteel wife. “My child, my child!”

The infant in her arms wailed uncontrollably as lumpy, dark lesions began to rise from his chubby arm. The people around them immediately backed away, leaving them a wide berth.

“This is bad—the kid is infected!”

Anguished, the couple exchanged a look, then jumped to their feet. They walked to the altar, pulled the black sword from where it had been stabbed into the ground, and placed it between the child’s hands. Grimacing, they lunged at Xie Lian.

“…!”

The black blade was extremely sharp, for the couple had already pulled out the sword before Xie Lian felt the excruciating pain explode from his abdomen. They dropped it to the ground with a loud clang and apologized over and over.

“Sorry… Our child is still young, there was really…no other way. Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

Their faces were pale as they apologized, and they kowtowed over and over in front of Xie Lian before disappearing into the crowd with their child.

The blood clogging Xie Lian’s throat thickened, and he was about to cough it up when he heard White No-Face snicker beside him. He forced down the mouthful of blood and hissed, “What are you laughing at?! Do you think that you got what you wanted? You forced this whole situation!”

The ghost fire trapped in the creature’s hand flickered even more fiercely.

Taking his time to do so, White No-Face explained, “Humans have to be forced before they’ll reveal their true selves.”

Among the hundred people here, there was now one who no longer had to fear Human Face Disease. As they saw the dark lesions slowly fade from the child’s arm, the crowd swallowed heavily and remained silent.

After a long while, a young man finally stepped forward amidst the dead silence. Bracing himself, he walked toward the altar, then bowed several times with his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this. I really don’t, but I don’t have a choice,” he pleaded. “I just got married—my mother, my wife, they’re both at home waiting for me…”

The man rambled on and on until he could no longer continue, then shut his eyes, raised the sword, and thrust it toward Xie Lian. Because his eyes were closed, his aim was off and the sword punctured Xie Lian in the side instead. When the man opened his eyes and realized he hadn’t hit a fatal spot, he panicked, frantically pulled out the weapon with trembling hands, and stabbed Xie Lian again!

Xie Lian had gritted his teeth to prevent any sounds from escaping his throat, and he let out nothing more than a grunt at the two consecutive jabs. A stream of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

It was true that he wouldn’t die. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be injured…or feel every bit of pain.

The sound of the weapon tangling on his flesh, the feeling of it scraping on his bones—it was so distressing and painful that Xie Lian almost went mad. When it came to this, he was no different from a mortal.

After the second person finished, he stepped down without offering Xie Lian a single kowtow. The expression on his face at the deed he had committed was a mixture of regret and the joy of survival—it was hard to say which feeling won out. Once he retreated into the crowd, silence returned.

It was another long time before a few more hesitant people began to look like they wanted to come forward with reasons of their own. Before they could rise to their feet, a man interrupted.

“I can’t stand this anymore.”

The crowd turned in the direction of the voice, and Xie Lian lifted his pale face too. The one who had spoken was the buff street performer.