Leveling Up by Executing Monsters

Chapter 136: Chapter 136: Cannot Be Defied, Dare Not Resist

"The results of the Divination point to the location of the Book of Truth: ancient, toy, a clown’s one-man show, carousel horse, Veto, neon lights, slums, a spring mattress, stray children, grass, a filthy rag, a prison, a Saint’s residence, a beautiful little garden, a sewer, a kitchen, a prostitute, a fairytale town, Twist..."

The securities manager rattled off the litany of nouns as if reading from a menu, all while continuously kneading his throat.

He didn’t stop until his voice grew hoarse and raspy, like that of a dying old man. Then, he continued:

"The inclinations are... anxiety, death, danger, madness, optimism, cheerfulness, warmth, a longing for love, happiness, the realization of ideals."

"Too many meaningless results and keywords. The interference is too severe..."

"Only the three keywords ’Ancient,’ ’Veto,’ and ’Twist’ are clearly effective. The inclinations, however, are completely useless. This is the natural counter that Twist poses to Divination."

"But... how can someone be dabbling in Twist outside my line of sight?"

"And they have two coexisting systems, possibly even involving Wisdom and Manifestation..."

"Could it be my old friends? Have you submitted to a mortal Saint?"

Like a paranoid patient, he muttered to himself in his office for a while. Then he stood up, rummaged around for the spare suit, tie, and silk top hat he kept in the office, and transformed himself from a down-and-out drunk back into a financial elite.

"I need a deeper Divination. I need a strong, new puppet. I need to find the holder of the Book of Truth. I need..."

"...to kill It..."

The now-respectable manager continued to mutter as he left the securities center. He then weaved through the streets and alleys of the city’s west side, gradually approaching the underground district.

He found a sewer with its manhole cover half-open and, heedless of his status, jumped inside.

The maze-like sewers were no obstacle for him. He soon arrived at the massive Underground City and found an unassuming cave dwelling.

As soon as he got close, two brawny men with faces covered in tattoos blocked his path.

"I want to see Hoyland."

"Ha! See our leader? I think you should go find a boyfriend first and have him teach you the rules down here."

One of the brutes sneered, grabbed the manager’s tie, and plucked off a shimmering gold-colored tie clip. He then put it in his mouth and bit down on it.

"Huh? It’s actually pure Gold. Didn’t think you were... Ugh... WAAAH!!!"

He only got halfway through his sentence before he dropped to his knees and began to vomit violently.

He vomited so forcefully that he threw up all of his internal organs...

But as if that wasn’t enough, he started spitting up mouthfuls of blood, as if trying to expel every drop from his body.

The other brute, his partner, was scared out of his wits. He quickly grabbed a bone whistle from around his neck and blew with all his might.

A piercing shriek erupted from the whistle, audible in every corner of the Underground City.

But he’d blown it for less than a second when he found the whistle was clogged with something sticky.

Looking down, he saw that the bone whistle had somehow been filled with a bloody mess.

Then, the brute felt a sharp pain in his gut. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his stomach, convulsing and struggling violently.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from behind the manager, and a voice called out:

"My apologies, Advisor. These two are new and don’t know the rules. They’ve never seen you before."

"It’s fine. They’ve already paid the price," the manager, or rather, the Advisor, said without turning his head.

The man who had rushed over looked like an honest, simple-minded blacksmith. He was dressed in oil-stained clothes and was followed by several apprentices of a similar style, each of them pale-faced and looking as if they wished they could stop breathing.

Still, the leader had to brace himself and step forward to explain:

"My deepest apologies, Advisor. Our leader is not here at the moment. He went to the Eternal City to seek a prophecy. For now, the Association’s affairs have been left to me."

As he spoke, his body trembled slightly, making no attempt to hide his fear.

Even though this high-society man with his back to him showed no fluctuations of Spiritual Power—like a common person who hadn’t even completed their Enlightenment—the blacksmith knew full well that this Advisor didn’t need Spiritual Power to kill.

He especially recalled his leader mentioning that the Advisor didn’t usually kill at random, but when he did, it was without reason or restraint.

He’d even dared to kill a Grand Judge of the Eternal City. He was a bona fide lunatic.

At this thought, the blacksmith’s trembling intensified slightly, causing his Spiritual Power to leak out in small fluctuations.

At that moment, the Advisor slowly turned his head and asked:

"You’re actually Tier Six? Not bad. But why so nervous? I’m not the kind of madman who enjoys killing."

The blacksmith quickly looked up at him and froze.

The flesh on the man’s face drooped limply, as if boneless. The skin had layers of waxy marks, like a melted wax figure, giving him an utterly demonic appearance.

"I need a new body. It doesn’t need to have completed Enlightenment, but its inspiration must be sharper than a normal person’s... In addition, I require some followers, a clean bedroom, the latest newspapers and magazines, and authentic vinyl records,"

the Advisor commanded in a tone that brooked no refusal.

"As you command. I will prepare them for you as quickly as possible."

The blacksmith nodded hastily.

The Advisor didn’t trouble him further and turned to leave.

Only after he was a good distance away did the blacksmith finally exhale a breath he had been holding for a long time.

"PHEW... Oh, my mother... He’s really... HUFF... What are you all still standing there for? Hurry up and prepare what he wants?"

"Yes! Yes!"

The apprentices behind him quickly answered.

But one of them, not the brightest, scratched his head and asked in a low voice:

"What if we can’t find everything?"

"Then find a way to kill yourself as soon as possible. It might be a more comfortable way to die," the blacksmith said, looking down at the two brutes on the ground.

One was still twitching and struggling, his mouth opening and closing like a drowning fish gasping for one last breath of air.

But more than half of his lungs were already stuffed inside that bone whistle...

For a fleeting moment, the blacksmith felt the urge to write an anonymous complaint letter.

But he didn’t dare...

Because that was ’the Advisor’.

Even though the blacksmith was already at Tier Six, he still didn’t dare entertain a single thought of resistance.

......

The next morning, as Lloyd was brushing his teeth, a worry crept into his mind.

’Can my sister manage to comb her hair by herself? Her hair is so long, her hands are so small, and her arms are so short... She won’t go out with her hair all messy and fluffy, will she?’

He subconsciously reached for his pocket watch to perform a Divination on his sister’s current situation, but then he recalled the warnings from Captain Fox, the butler, and the Chief Judge. He sighed and put the watch away.

The murderer was from the Curse system, an expert at using Divination to harm people. He had to be on guard.

’Damn it! He didn’t even spare that critic, who was basically a normal person. The article I wrote to blast that editor has probably gone down the drain too.’

Lloyd cursed inwardly as his mind began to race with wild thoughts.

’Why did the murderer choose that specific critic?’

’Was there some old grudge? A critic with a sharp tongue does tend to make enemies easily...’

’But it wouldn’t warrant such cruelty, would it?’

’Or maybe...’

Lloyd had actually already guessed at a much bigger, and much more troublesome, possibility.

But he really didn’t want to entertain that line of thought, so he shook his head forcefully.

’In any case, two big shots from High Positions said they’d help me out. A little Tier Three Newbie like me should just stop thinking about it.’

After he finished washing up, he heard a knock on the door, followed by Weiya’s voice:

"Good morning, Lloyd! Are you awake?"

"Coming, coming!"

Lloyd hurried to open the door and saw the beautiful Weiya standing gracefully outside. Her stunning face was filled with a gentle tranquility, giving him the pleasant illusion that she was the girl next door.

This lifted Lloyd’s spirits considerably.

’If only I could see Weiya every morning when I wake up...’

’I have to work hard and earn enough money to move in next to her.’

During a previous chat, Weiya had casually mentioned that she lived in a detached villa in the wealthy district.

’Definitely a low-key rich girl...’

The two of them chatted idly, went to breakfast together, and then headed to Tower Nine to start their respective work for the day.

Lloyd’s workload wasn’t heavy today; just three targets on floor -3.

With practiced ease, he dispatched the first two and collected their organs before heading to the third cell.

Imprisoned here was a Demon Ghost that had mutated from a hornet. It had grown a human-like spine, which was exposed on its back. Its compound eyes were crammed with human-like eyeballs, and the stinger on its abdomen had softened into frantically writhing tentacles.

Its wings could vibrate at an extremely high frequency, emitting a BUZZ.

This wasn’t something from a textbook; this was what Lloyd was actually seeing and hearing—

The hornet Demon Ghost was hovering in mid-air inside the cell, its myriad eyeballs darting back and forth, looking for an opportunity to escape.

The white chains that were supposed to bind it had been snapped at the base. The Orbits carved into the floor had become blurry, as if covered by a mosaic, rendered completely ineffective.

The moment it noticed someone entering, the hornet Demon Ghost spun around nimbly and lunged at Lloyd.

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