I've Become the King of Villains in the Game

Chapter 394: Chapter 261: The Madman of Revenge (Vote for monthly tickets!)
 

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Yellow Iron City.

In the city center lay a cluster of luxury villas.

Under the veil of nightfall, one of these villas was brightly lit, figures bustling about in its courtyard, seemingly engaged in a lively party.

The owner of this villa was a famous iron ore merchant in Yellow Iron City named Yarlin, who was well-connected and maintained good relations with several members of the city council.

Mr. Yarlin had hosted a celebration banquet today in honor of securing a significant business deal, reaching an agreement with the Imperial Military. The trade, principally involving iron ore, was to span over three years.

Although it was largely due to the outbreak of war and the military’s need for a vast quantity of iron ore to forge equipment, for Yarlin, the reason behind it didn’t matter; making money was all that was important.

For this reason, the villa’s owner, Yarlin, invited many nobles, celebrities, and business and political dignitaries to partake in a barbecue party in the courtyard.

Young and beautiful women mingled among the influential men, their coy laughter mingling with the men’s conversations to create an intoxicating atmosphere of opulence and decadence.

At this moment, Yarlin excused himself, ostensibly to visit the washroom, momentarily slipping away from the crowd and entering the basement.

His public identity as an iron ore merchant was just a facade; in secret, he was a fervent devotee of the cult of the Apocalypse Cocoon.

Today’s party served merely as a smokescreen to divert attention, with the real purpose being to facilitate a meeting between the high ranks of the esoteric cult and the monks of the Red Apple Church.

The meticulously designed basement served as a temporary stronghold for the Apocalypse Cocoon—spacious and more brightly lit than the villa’s living room above ground.

The thick walls were lined with specially made wood, providing excellent sound insulation.

The basement was filled with bookshelves holding tomes on Mystery Studies as well as the esoteric cult’s treasured collections.

Encircled by bookshelves in the center were four long sofas and an opulent round table.

Presently, three high-ranking members of the esoteric cult and two leaders from the Red Apple Church sat across from each other.

Each party sat with their backs to the sofas, their subordinates standing behind them.

“Priest, everything upstairs is normal,” Yarlin said, bowing slightly, behind the three middle-aged men and women.

“Hmm, we trust you to handle matters well, Yarlin, but don’t stay here too long to avoid unnecessary suspicion,” replied a one-eyed man calmly.

“Yes, I understand,” responded Yarlin.

The leader of the Red Apple Church was named Gallup. He was dressed in a simple deep-red monk’s robe and his clean-shaven face made him resemble more a scholar than a monk.

At this time, Gallup spoke up, “Mr. Hogan, is there any way we can accelerate our plans further? Oh, I apologize, it’s not that we lack patience… but our church is now under official scrutiny, and our strength in various regions has been suppressed.”

He paused for a moment, shrugging.

“Furthermore, there’s a madman from the Murder Club who has been hunting down the clergy of our church lately. Very unfortunately, he has caught the scent of our team…”

“We know, we are fully aware,” said the one-eyed man named Hogan with a smirk.

He lifted his cup and took a sip. The blood-red, viscous liquid inside looked more like some kind of drink mixed with fresh blood.

“Your church has made quite a noise lately—there’s probably no one in the Empire who isn’t aware of it… Of course, it’s not clear if it’s fame or infamy, but it’s certainly not a good reputation,” Hogan said provocatively.

A female high-ranking member of the esoteric cult beside him said coldly, “The amounts of Mysterious Substance and Sunset Daisy Dew are too low at the moment, insufficient for us to perform prayer rituals consecutively, so the plan has to be postponed.”

Gallup of the Red Apple Church pondered for a moment.

“We do come with sincerity. We have not only brought the High Sequence flesh materials coveted by your cult but also the lost knowledge of the sanctification ritual…

Has the Apocalypse Cocoon fallen so low that you can’t even come up with the basics for a prayer ritual?”

The faces of the three high-ranking members of the esoteric cult turned sour.

Although they both walked similar paths, they were not on good terms with the Red Apple Church.

Recently, the Sun Royal Family had officially stripped the Red Apple Church of its status as a Righteous God Church. However, as one of the former Seven Righteous God Churches, their depth of resources was indeed several notches above the Apocalypse Cocoon.

Now, being taunted and reminded of their pain, their mood darkened.

Just then, a member of the esoteric cult of the Apocalypse Cocoon silently entered the basement and walked briskly towards the three high-ranking members, whispering a few words to them.

As a Mid Sequence Transcendent, Gallup overheard every word the other party had said.

He chuckled, watching the increasingly uncomfortable esoteric cult high-ranking members, “It seems your cult is having a hard time as well… Five members have died in just one day, and on top of that, one of your outposts was directly taken down.”

“Eavesdropping on others’ conversations is quite impolite, Mr. Gallup,” Hogan said indifferently.

“Besides, it might very well be that madman from your church that caused this…”

His last words were uttered through clenched teeth.

Seeing this, Gallup and his companion exchanged a knowing smile.

It’s always this way with people—misfortune begets frustration, but solace can be found if others share the same fate.

“Mr. Hogan, let me speak frankly, as a gesture of our deep sincerity…” Gallup put away his smile, becoming serious.

The three high-ranking members of the esoteric cult frowned slightly, not knowing what he was about to say.

“This time, we are here on behalf of Archbishop Lafa, seeking to collaborate with your esteemed cult. What we seek is for the great Lafa to have a conversation with Lady Dusk herself.”

As he spoke, Gallup undid the buttons on his robe and bared his chest.

Hogan and the others’ expressions shifted subtly.

“`

At their chest, there unexpectedly grew a human face with closed eyes.

The features were profound, demonically beautiful—it was the visage of Archbishop Lafa from the Red Apple Church.

“You… are actually willing to serve as a vessel for the church’s higher-ups’ descent?!”

Hogan’s eyes twitched slightly, not expecting the monks from the Red Apple Church to be so deranged.

Gallup buttoned up his robe, his fair face calm and expressionless.

“Making a small sacrifice for Lord Lafa is nothing… as long as my body can provide sufficient convenience for Him.”

Whether an incarnation of a high-sequence Transcendent has a definitive vessel or not greatly affects the amount of strength it can bear.

Like Gallup now, offering his body as a vessel for Lafa’s incarnation, was several grades stronger than an incarnation created directly by Lafa.

“So, in order not to disappoint Lord Lafa, we will eliminate the Murder Club assassins who followed us and get rid of the attackers for you… We only hope that you can prepare for the ceremony as soon as possible without delay,”

Gallup said.

Taking a deep breath, Hogan and the others finally nodded.

*

*

*

Yellow Iron City.

Underneath a dark stone bridge.

With a splotch, the blade was drawn from the body, and a gush of fresh blood was splattered.

Drake toyed with the dagger and lit a cigarette for himself. He leaned against the wall under the stone bridge and began to smoke.

Amid the swirling smoke,

His gaze fell upon the three corpses on the ground, and he let out a cold laugh.

“The Pupa of the End… I didn’t expect you to be in cahoots with the Red Apple Church.”

Drake smoked, and through the haze of smoke, he suddenly reminisced about his life.

He was born into nobility. Though his family had seen better days, with his father’s baronial title and the wealth accumulated by his ancestors, he was destined for a life of affluence.

But a disaster in his youth shattered everything that was peaceful.

Drake’s family was tragically engulfed in a conspiracy, robbed of their wealth by a strange Transcendent of Sequence Eight.

That person cruelly murdered his parents.

Even in front of him, each of his brothers and sisters were humiliated, killed, and ultimately devoured sequentially.

If it weren’t for the timely arrival of an Investigator from the Shelter who frightened away the murderer, he, hiding in the cupboard, would have hardly escaped the massacre.

However, it also inflicted severe psychological trauma on him.

The young Drake vowed to take revenge on the Transcendent.

Afterward, utilizing his father’s connections, he learned about mysteries and came into contact with the transcendents. After years of exploration and research, he finally seized an opportunity to become a Transcendent himself.

And traces of his sworn enemy had also been uncovered over those years.

The man turned out to be a monk from the local Red Apple Church!

His heinous deeds were merely for a promotion ceremony, with wealth and property being incidental spoils.

After his wicked acts, that person was not punished. Instead, he rose through the ranks within the church, becoming one of the most powerful priests in the local congregation.

Every time Drake saw that man, he felt as if he could hear the wails of his parents and siblings.

At that moment, he understood deeply that ordinary people were nothing but fodder for advancement in their eyes, fruits ripe for the picking at will.

The Empire’s indulgence and the Shelter’s incompetence filled Drake with indignant fury.

He went into hiding, struggled up the Sequence path, and finally, at the age of twenty-five, he slew his foe.

Almost ten years later, he had completed his vengeance, but his enemy mocked him in his dying moments, declaring that his family’s ordeal was just a result of orders from the higher-ups of the church, insignificant among countless other sacrifices.

Drake escaped in a sorry state.

He felt no gratification from his revenge, only profound coldness and rage.

Having murdered a priest of the Red Apple Church, he was also hunted by the Red Apple Church.

Years of flight later, perhaps it was the God of Destiny who subtly manipulated his fate, allowing him to successfully join the Murder Club and find shelter.

The flames of revenge had not ceased; Drake was still waiting for the chance to retaliate against the Red Apple Church. This church that appeared bright and beautiful on the surface yet was cruel and evil behind closed doors was the real mastermind behind the sins!

Now, Drake had finally awaited this day.

The Red Apple Church had sparked an upheaval that affected the entire Empire, becoming a target for all.

Although the Empire’s attention was tied up by the Anlong United Kingdom to the west, the other six Righteous God Churches also dispatched transcendent forces to encircle and suppress the Red Apple Church.

Drake volunteered to participate in this hunt against the Red Apple Church.

But he was alone.

His only comrades were the dagger in his hand and the Balag Necklace on his chest.

“Buddy, although I don’t like you, this time, it’s just you and me fighting together… Even if my body crumbles apart, please help me carry on the fight,”

Drake murmured while fiddling with the ferocious necklace hanging below his neck.

The Balag Necklace began to wriggle on its own, the spiky “Iron Wirball” creeping up from his neck and chest towards his limbs and head.

Eventually, it enveloped his entire body.

Drake became a rust-covered knight, dragging a vicious barbed armor, and he slowly walked forward.

Vanishing beneath the moonlight.