"This is ridiculous. Every attack aimed at her ends up helping her escape."

Ashe slipped quietly back into the ranks of his fellow outlanders and muttered, "This goes beyond coincidence. Could she really be a girl chosen by fate?"

Harvey chuckled. "If that's true, doesn't that make you a child of destiny too?"

"What?"

"Exactly," Iger added, unable to hold back. "I tried to take you down, yet ended up trapped in your schemes and forced into your prison break squad. Varkas challenged you, but somehow became your protector during the Blood Moon Tribunal. Then we conveniently ran into a necromancer able to control the chip processors. A plan that should have taken years was finished in less than a month because you gathered every key player."

Harvey replied, "Now that I think about it, your escape story is even stranger than that puppet girl's."

Ashe retorted, "That's not the same! Isn't it normal for a prison to be full of people skilled in escape techniques? It's like asking on a train if anyone bought a ticket. Of course everyone did."

He drew himself up with exaggerated dignity. "The prison break wasn't luck. It was my iron will, relentless effort, unwavering perseverance, and flashes of brilliance at critical moments that carried us through. Every step came from personal effort, not a shred of luck."

Harvey could only respond with a gentle smile that clearly said, I'm not arguing with a fool.

Iger scoffed. "You're such a double standard. So all your achievements come from personal effort, while everyone else's is just luck? Is it really that hard to admit you're coasting?"

Ashe shot back, "I call it proper allocation of talent. Let everyone play to their strengths, and let the professionals handle what they do best."

Iger sneered. "So it is true. Slackers never admit they're slackers, and lucky folks never admit they got lucky."

Ashe wore an irritating "aha!" expression, the kind that was practically asking to be smacked. "I get it now. You're bullying me because you secretly think I'm important, right?"

Iger's mouth twitched. "You double-standard fool..."

Harvey quickly stepped in to ease the tension. "Alright, alright. We probably should have jumped in sooner. On the other side, there was only a puppet girl with almost no offensive capability. But now..."

Iger replied sourly, "And what if that side leads to the Four Pillars' main base? We already know our dear cult leader doesn't have much authority in his own faction."

Ashe stared at the pit, where water churned and bubbled, lost in thought.

One of Professor Syrin's observation reports suddenly crossed his mind. The Virtual Channel that leads to the underground river... Could Everlasting Doom have fallen into the Blood Moon Kingdom? What is this supposed to be, some kind of tactical converter?

Tap.

The three outlanders looked up to see Cliose walking toward them. Her large, beautiful eyes were swollen from crying, and her nose twitched faintly. "You... are the three of you outlanders?"

"According to the laws of the Gospel Kingdom, any outsider is to be executed on the spot."

Without giving them a chance to explain, she raised her gun and aimed straight at Ashe's forehead. "May the Book of Gospel guide your path."

Staring into the black barrel, Ashe realized they were still in mortal danger. They were not under the protection of local law enforcement. They were foreign invaders, pests to be exterminated on sight. Any upstanding citizen would consider shooting them a moral duty.

To them, the Four Pillars Cult was a vicious beast, but the locals were even more ruthless.

And compared to the cult, falling into the hands of local law enforcement offered even less hope of survival. Good people could always find a reason to stop villains. But if the good themselves decided to act themselves, who, then, could interfere?

Just then, a pleasant voice drifted down from above. "Wait, Cliose. Didn't we agree the loot would go to me?"

Someone is coming to save us!

The three stowaways turned in surprise. No matter who it is, I'll never forget thi—

Before they could even finish the thought, their gratitude turned into anger.

The girl in purple leapt down from the hole in the ceiling and made a soft landing, almost like a butterfly. "Long time no see, you three. Though technically, we only met an hour ago."

The young butler followed closely behind. He tapped the waterlogged ground with his foot, and a trail of frost spread outward, giving the girl's long boots solid footing on the ice.

These two were none other than the ambushers who had captured the three stowaways outside the Virtual Channel and sold them to the Four Pillars Cult. Both were members of the Funeral Agency.

Cliose wiped her nose with a handkerchief. "Annan, are you planning to protect these outsiders?"

The purple-clad girl, Annan, smiled. "No, I'm just reclaiming what belongs to me. We agreed earlier. These three are my spoils of war for reporting the Four Pillars Cult's base to the Red Hats. You can't just dispose of them as you please."

So first she sold us off, then sold out the Four Pillars Cult. She profits from both sides. That's already a win-win for her, and now she wants to recycle us for reuse?

Ashe glanced at Iger. See, this is exactly your kind.

Iger shook his head. Yours.

"They are outsiders," Cliose said deliberately, enunciating each word. "Like Serena, they are vermin that endanger the world and defile the Book of Gospel. They must be executed at once. If we delay until the Gospel behind their ears fades, they will return to their evil lair, inform the dark gods, and lead demons to trample our fields, cities, and innocent citizens."

"The Gospel behind our ears?"

"Ashe, tilt your head to the right."

"Why can't I look at yours—"

Despite the complaint, Ashe did as he said. Iger leaned closer for a look and spoke softly. "There's a pale yellow countdown behind your ear. It seems to have started at seventy-two hours. It's most likely meant to prevent spatial movement."

"That's the Omniscient Weaver's punishment for demons like you trying to sneak into the Gospel Kingdom," Cliose said, pressing the gun to Ashe's forehead. "Before that countdown runs out, we followers of the Gospel will wipe out every last blind, ignorant demon like you."

The three exchanged glances. The same thought crossed their minds. Seems the kingdom's anti-invasion system isn't that impressive. Someone got out alive to the Blood Moon Kingdom three days ago, which is exactly why they hold the May 1st hunting festival.

The girl in purple smiled. "They can't do that anymore. Once they entered the kingdom, the Virtual Channel they used was sealed. Going back is no longer an option. If you don't believe me, check the Book of Gospel yourself."

Cliose hesitated. "You aren't lying to me, are you?"

"It's easy enough to verify. Or are you not willing to spend even a few points to check? Fine, I'll cover it."

Cliose's eyes reddened again. "No need. But they're still outlanders—"

Annan interrupted, "Outlanders whose deaths earn you nothing. I've checked. None of them has a bounty in the Book of Gospel. Killing them won't raise your Red Hat ranking. Meanwhile, our contract clearly states the spoils belong to me. If you break that agreement, your credit record will take a hit. You could even drop off the Overall Red Hat List."

"But they aren't spoils of war..."

"Well, then you've just admitted they're ordinary people. They have no criminal record. It's forbidden for a Red Hat to kill a law-abiding individual."

Cliose sniffed. "You people from the agency are experts at twisting logic. Still, they are outsiders with a high tendency to commit crimes. If you want to take them, you need to make sure you can control them."

"I've already prepared for that."

Annan took out three contracts edged in gold on white parchment. "These are Contract Weave Papers, redeemed directly from the Book of Gospel and bound by both the Virtual World and the Omniscient Weaver. Not even a Four-Winged Legend can violate them. If they sign and accept my restraint, they will be completely incapable of harming the Book of Gospel. Now, are you satisfied? In the name of Dolan, under my command, they will become a force for the Gospel.

Cliose lowered her gun slightly, seemingly persuaded. "If that's the case..."

Their gaze then fell on the three pitiful, weak stowaways sitting on the ground. Normally, stowaways would be sobbing and begging to sign, grateful just to survive. These three, however, remained silent. They merely observed the exchange between the two women.

Cliose pressed her gun against Ashe's forehead again. "It seems they are unwilling to be restrained. We're already burying the cultists. A few more won't matter—"

Annan crouched down and looked at them. "Don't be hasty, Cliose. Don't you want to live? Why aren't you saying anything?"

The three exchanged glances. At last, Ashe broke the tension, "I do want to talk, but you were performing so earnestly that I felt bad interrupting."