Chapter 128: Are you provoking me?

Jerusalem, Temple Mount.

Above the magnificent and ornate temple, scavenging night crows circled in the sky, creating a deeply jarring sight. Liu Mocheng knew that Ulquiorra’s summons must concern the "Gates of Heaven," a piece of intelligence that would undoubtedly be of critical importance to the human side.

Withdrawing his thoughts, he stepped into the grandiose, palace-like structure before him. Inside the gloomy Hall of Valhalla, the surrounding walls were etched with figures of the twelve fallen angels from the Bible and the seventy-two pillar demons; creatures of folklore and various religions were carved into the walls and pillars, looking utterly grotesque.

Liu Mocheng saw three demonic, dark figures already seated at a round table, waiting for him. It appeared he was the last to arrive.

Occupying the head seat was the First Abyssal, Ulquiorra. From a distance, at first glance, Ulquiorra looked like a fallen angel stepped out of a Black Bible, exuding a sense of holiness and awe. Ink-black hair fell to its waist, and from the top of its head protruded two curved, formidable horns. On either side of its spine, two broad, black-feathered wings were folded tight. It possessed a handsome, demonic face that was bloodless and pale as a corpse, yet as perfect as a work of art. A pair of golden, slit-like demonic pupils shone like jewels in the dim environment, and beneath that sinisterly exquisite face were naturally pitch-black lips.

Seeing Ulquiorra sitting in the main seat, Liu Mocheng narrowed his eyes slightly. He clearly remembered that this monster had once committed an act that shocked the entire world.

In the previous century, there was a superpower in the north with technology far ahead of the rest of the world, possessing formidable armed forces and a population of nearly one billion. Such a nation had been highly effective in dealing with monsters, relying on high-tech power to eradicate all monsters within its borders, even planning to expand to other countries to purge them together.

Ulquiorra had once descended upon that country and, with peerless, terrifying strength, swept through its territory. The nation had mobilized all its armed forces, yet they could not contend with Ulquiorra. It was like a dark god of death from the nine-layered hell, a cataclysmic disaster fallen from the sky; in just three days, it annihilated the entire magnificent nation. That technologically advanced superpower simply vanished from the map of the Earth. A population of nearly one billion had perished in just three days.

Later, Ulquiorra was bestowed with the title "Death of the End," for every time it appeared, it reaped countless lives across the world. Ulquiorra was worshipped by millions of believers in Jerusalem, and thus, it had become the master of Jerusalem, ruling over everything within.

At the other end of the round table sat the Second Abyssal—the "Double-Faced" Mastema. He looked extremely young, like a human in his twenties, dressed in the black-and-white combat uniform of a Demon Hunter. If one were to judge Mastema solely by his harmless, youthful appearance, no one would believe it was a calamity-level monster, and many might even mistake it for a Demon Hunter guarding the city.

When Liu Mocheng caught sight of Mastema’s attire, his violet eyes flashed slightly. It seemed Mastema had already infiltrated the internal ranks of the Disaster Association; this was shocking news indeed. Though he did not know how it had been achieved, a calamity-level Abyssal demon infiltrating the upper echelons of humanity was like a ticking time bomb, ready to detonate at any moment.

The third person at the table was the vampire monarch who ruled over Romania in the West—Vlad Dracula. Dracula was dressed in European aristocratic black, with white hair and red eyes, appearing like a polite, dashing middle-aged gentleman. Like Liu Mocheng, both of them had come to Jerusalem in response to the summons issued by Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra’s gaze fell upon Liu Mocheng’s arrival, and its emotionless voice echoed: "Only the Demon Fox remains. Who would have thought she would dare to ignore my summons."

The Demon Fox referred to the Third Abyssal, the legendary "Nine-Tailed Demon Fox," Tamamo no Yuki.

Mastema, who looked like a handsome youth, rested his chin on his hands and said in a flat voice, "That fox? She has been missing in the City of the Crimson Moon for quite some time. It’s possible she’s already dead."

Ulquiorra tilted its head slightly to look at him, its golden eyes devoid of ripples. "You say Tamamo no Yuki is dead? What happened?"

Mastema shrugged and smiled faintly. "I’m not sure. I encountered monster assassins from the City of the Crimson Moon while I was in Winterfall City, and that was the information I gathered from them."

Just then, Liu Mocheng walked straight forward, and as he was about to take the fourth seat, someone spoke to him. Dracula, sitting at the other end of the round table, questioned the tardy Liu Mocheng, "Human, didn't you arrive a bit too late?"

"The meeting hasn't started yet, so I’m not late." Liu Mocheng sat down, slightly raising his eyes to cast a sharp gaze across, and his cold voice replied, "Also, I am not a human."

"Still living in denial. Even if you have joined the Abyssals, the fact that you are human at your core will never change." Dracula polished his sharp nails while mocking, "Since you arrived so late, is it possible you went to report our intelligence to the humans?"

"Are you provoking me?" Liu Mocheng’s violet eyes stared at Dracula as black-purple flames ignited over his entire body, the aura he had been restraining released in an instant. The air instantly became stifling and heavy; a terrifying pressure capable of crushing even SS-level monsters filled the room.

Outside the hall, the believers felt the crushing pressure of the released aura and trembled, knowing that a great power inside the hall was enraged. A suffocating sensation gripped every believer's heart, as if their hearts were being squeezed by a giant hand, leaving them frozen in place. The entire Hall of Valhalla fell into dead silence, and the air was thick with palpable killing intent.

Facing the aura released by Liu Mocheng, Dracula, as an Abyssal-level vampire, was naturally not significantly affected.

"Provoking you? Forgive my candor, but my words were merely a sound judgment." Dracula smiled like a gentleman, not only failing to restrain himself but escalating the situation: "If you could betray humanity in the past, it is only natural that you could betray us as well, isn't that right?"

He had always held a prejudice against Liu Mocheng, the human who had joined the monster side, and had long mistrusted him, looking for any chance to incite a conflict and get rid of him.

As he finished speaking, Dracula’s own aura was unleashed. The two forces of materialized pressure began to grind and collide; the air seemed to turn into a thick liquid, making it difficult to move or breathe.

Liu Mocheng’s tone turned chillingly icy. "I am an envoy of the God Lord. Do you actually doubt my loyalty to Him?"

"Who knows?" Dracula’s tone was filled with provocation.

"Brother Shen!"

"Yes!"

Shen Changqing walked along the road, nodding or exchanging greetings with people he knew. But regardless of who it was, no one wore any extra expression, as if they were indifferent to everything. To this, Shen Changqing had long since grown accustomed.

Because this was the Demon Suppression Division, an organization dedicated to maintaining the stability of the Great Qin Empire. Its primary responsibility was to slay demons and ghosts, though it had other side businesses as well. It could be said that every person in the Demon Suppression Division had blood on their hands. When one becomes accustomed to life and death, one becomes indifferent to many things. When he first arrived in this world, Shen Changqing was somewhat unaccustomed to it, but over time, he had adapted.

The Demon Suppression Division was vast. Those who remained there were either formidable experts or individuals with the potential to become such. Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

The Division was divided into two professions: Demon Suppression Envoys and Demon Extermination Envoys. Anyone who joined started as a low-level Demon Extermination Envoy, rising step by step with the hope of eventually becoming a Demon Suppression Envoy. Shen Changqing’s predecessor had been a trainee Demon Extermination Envoy, the lowest rank among them. With the memories of his predecessor, he was very familiar with the environment of the Division.

Not long after, Shen Changqing stopped in front of a pavilion. Unlike other parts of the Division, which were filled with a murderous atmosphere, this pavilion stood out like a crane in a flock of chickens, presenting a rare serenity amidst the blood-stained Division. The doors of the pavilion were wide open, with people occasionally entering and exiting.

Shen Changqing hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside. Upon entering, the environment shifted abruptly. A scent of ink mixed with a faint smell of blood rushed toward him, causing his brow to twitch instinctively before he quickly smoothed it out. The scent of blood on everyone in the Demon Suppression Division was almost impossible to wash away.