Monsters Die When Killed

Because when Kroessel synchronized with his sleeper agent’s vision, he saw a face.

He saw the rather serious face of a young man.

The face was very close—less than a meter away, practically in his personal space. If another Transcendent got that close, even a Great Mage whose words held the power of law wouldn’t be able to utter a single syllable.

But more terrifying than the dangerous proximity was the person’s identity.

Long, somewhat messy black hair was carelessly tied back. The handsome, neat features gave off a sunny and clean impression, one that would leave anyone with a good first impression. It was an approachable face, and one that Kroessel knew all too well.

It was Su Zhou.

It was Su Zhou’s face.

He was right in front of the sleeper agent.

"My friend from America, you’ve got quite a bit of Curse on you."

At that moment, Su Zhou was speaking to the sleeper agent in Chinese, completely unconcerned with whether the other man could understand him.

The young man reached out and rested a hand on the agent’s shoulder. It seemed like a gentle gesture, but enough power to crush steel like clay was gathered in those five fingers. Kroessel could feel the sleeper agent’s body go rigid, not daring to move an inch, let alone fight back or object.

"This is far more than what you’d accumulate just from being hated and cursed by criminals. You’ve definitely killed innocent people—and more than one. Hmm, this smell... and the wails... It’s the stench of blood. I can hear screams of agony."

"You tortured them to death? Hey, Mr. Aistena, what is the American Federation thinking? How could you let a sadistic murderer in, and even let him join the action team?"

Su Zhou’s voice was soft and pleasant to the ear. Even when he was insulting someone, listening to a voice like his was a unique sort of pleasure. The sense of genuine confusion in his tone was clear for anyone to hear, and it was easy to sympathize with.

But Kroessel could hear, beneath that sunny and cheerful tone, a profoundly demonic nature and a malice that burned like a raging fire.

It was the sound of a throat swallowing, a rising tide of appetite and hostility. It was the gaze of a great serpent fixed on a frog—a feeling more terrifying and hopeless than encountering a natural predator.

It was as if behind that handsome, boyish face lurked a vicious monster whose True Body was impossible to discern.

And it was staring at the essence behind the sleeper agent’s body—the thing called a Soul.

’Death—killing intent—I’m going to be eaten—Why is he here?!’

Kroessel, however, was a genius. To be able to take charge of the Continuous Prayer Meeting and become its new Leader in his twenties with no objections from others was a testament to his strength. Faced with Su Zhou’s spiritual pressure on his Soul, he panicked for only an instant before making the correct choice.

SNAP.

He severed the Snake Attachment Technique completely.

And on the head of the despairing sleeper agent, two inconspicuous strands of hair instantly snapped and turned gray.

"Huh? Strange."

「At that moment, in the Kunlun Secret Realm.」

Su Zhou, who had been in a formal meeting with the action teams from various countries before their mission to the Beast God Realm, released his grip on the shoulder of the sleeper agent—an American team member named Andres.

He muttered to himself, puzzled, "This guy originally gave me a very important feeling, but for some reason, he suddenly seems... ordinary."

It was only then that the members of the various national action teams, including Zhengguo’s, finally processed what Su Zhou had just done.

At the very beginning of the meeting, Su Zhou, who was supposed to speak after the Daoist Saint, had suddenly strode over to the American action team. He had acted without warning, restraining the team member named Andres, and then began his questioning.

"Andres? Tortured them to death? A sadistic murderer?"

The tall man known as ’Rock Tower’ repeated Su Zhou’s words. His brow furrowed tightly. He glanced at the Daoist Saint, then at Su Zhou, and finally at Andres, who was kneeling on the ground. The captain of the American action team let out a breath. He didn’t say much, only stating grimly, "Andres. Speak. Refute it. Otherwise, you’re admitting it’s true."

His words were concise and powerful, sending ripples of Spiritual Power through the air as he spoke.

But Andres, who still hadn’t recovered from the instinctual pressure of the Evil-Devouring Demon Lord, was in no state to argue. And at a time like this, with no preparation, who among them wouldn’t be able to tell if he was lying?

Zhengguo had opened the Kunlun Secret Realm, a place of hidden heritage, to the action teams of every nation—all for the sake of humanity’s safety.

And also for the sake of humanity’s safety, not even the American Federation could afford to be protective and allow a dangerous element to infiltrate the team entering the Beast God Realm. In theory, even if Andres really were a murderer, it wasn’t Su Zhou’s place to point it out. Never mind the lack of proof; even if there was proof, he should be punished under the laws of the American Federation.

But the situation now was unique.

And as a wielder of the Holy Light, Rock Tower Aistena hated evil as if it were a mortal enemy.

So he said in a low voice, "Tell the truth, Andres. Either prove your innocence, or wait to face the Extraordinary Court. Otherwise, you can just wait to die right here."

This was the last shred of dignity he was being offered. After all, Andres was a veteran agent of the foundation who had contributed to the peace of society and the government. He had saved many people, made numerous contributions, and earned everyone’s trust through countless screenings.

It was precisely because of this that he had been allowed to join the action team.

And Andres knew this very well.

So, under Su Zhou’s calm gaze and the astonished, uncertain stares of everyone around him, he raised his hands over his head, slowly leaned forward until his body was flat against the ground, and assumed the American Federation’s standard posture of surrender.

Lying prostrate on the ground, Andres gave a bitter smile. "Yes, that’s right... I am a spy."

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