Chapter 155: The Path of Karmic Fire and the Little Angel Project

That was right. The Laughing God believed that he and Chu Hanyu were of the same kind!

When the vast majority of people in this world were useless worms and ants, only the ability-users—and, among them, he and Chu Hanyu—stood above the rest. They were a new species, evolved beyond humanity. They were no longer human!

He grinned. “I knew it. You and I are alike. You don’t care about anything at all, do you? Just look at your eyes! Is there anything in this world that could possibly catch your attention? Though I suppose you’re right to be that way. What is there in this world worth caring about?”

Zhang Ning let the words go in one ear and out the other. He gave no serious thought to their philosophical meaning. He was simply holding his breath, waiting for his master to give him some kind of signal. He was prepared to follow Chu Hanyu’s orders to the letter. Whatever his master wanted to do, Zhang Ning would do his best to help at once.

But Chu Hanyu showed no intention of replying. Neither of the scenes Zhang Ning had imagined—his master attacking the Laughing God outright, or sneering at him with contempt—came to pass. To Zhang Ning’s astonishment, his master turned to look at him, paying not the slightest attention to the Laughing God standing right in front of him.

“Watch closely, Ning,” Chu Hanyu said gravely. “This is the path of karmic fire, unique to our Great Freedom Demon Sect.”

The Laughing God was being ignored so completely that the laughter issuing nonstop from his mouth began to subside. “Are you trying to deny what we have in common? No matter how much you deny it, we’re still the same—”

Chu Hanyu suddenly lashed out with his whip!

In his hand, the Karmic Fire Whip had seemed no more dangerous than a harmless coil. But with a flick of his wrist, it shot out like a dragon’s lashing tail, a venomous snake striking, or an arrow cleaving the air.

The whip was a weapon difficult both to learn and to master. If one had to choose, it was perhaps the weapon most closely tied to the Dao of Time. And because of the Karmic Fire Whip’s unusual material and the repeated tempering it had undergone at its owner’s hands, the speed of Chu Hanyu’s strike was so astounding that even Zhang Ning, who knew all about the whip’s tip cracking faster than the rest, began to doubt his own understanding of the world.

At the blow, the Laughing God’s unfinished words and half-formed expression froze in place. Then, all around him, great violet flames burst into life, as though they would never end! They sprang from thin air, vast in their fury yet utterly silent, and spread outward in an instant.

The Laughing God was caught in the flames after the briefest pause. He let out a howl, the sound no different from that of any beast trapped in a desperate struggle for survival. There was nothing left of the elegant, if rather deranged, philosopher who had been pondering the meaning of life moments earlier.

His screams were enough to make one shudder with dread—so terrible that the memory might return at night and keep a person awake until dawn. Zhang Ning watched with his own eyes as the ability-user known by the codename Laughing God, who had caused so much trouble in Brin City and come through it all unscathed, perished in the sea of flames.

With his death, everything he had done was left with nothing but pain to show for it. His tastes would no longer be pursued by the masses and studied in minute detail. His methods would no longer be treated by his subordinates as holy writ, nor would they rack their brains to curry his favor. Whatever miserable past might have shaped his nature would never be known. And no one would ever learn why, despite having once possessed some semblance of a moral line, he had suddenly chosen to do what he did that day.

It was all meaningless now. He was dead.

Zhang Ning, however, silently grumbled to himself that his master really ought to consider a child’s ability to cope. That scene of bloodshed and violence was clearly rated eighteen-plus!

Under Chu Hanyu’s questioning gaze, Zhang Ning said sheepishly, “Um, Master, you were too fast. I didn’t have time to take it all in. How about… doing it again?”

Three months later.

At a certain anti-nuclear base.

Team Leader Xing—no, he was Minister Xing now!

Minister Xing had come to attend a meeting on orders from his superiors. He had been wondering why such a major matter had taken three months to bring to a meeting, but once he arrived, he realized that even three months of preparation had been too little.

His heart tightened as he took in the soldiers patrolling all around, almost without pause, with live ammunition. A place of this security level was being used for a meeting? It could have held out against the apocalypse!

Minister Xing himself had to pass through more than a dozen layers of security checks and screening. The process was so painstaking that he began to suspect they had been ordered to memorize every pore on his body.

In fact, the orders given to the soldiers were not far off. At the very least, every scar on his body—whether earned in honorable combat or acquired through some bout of mischief—had been recorded in meticulous detail in his file. These people had committed it all to memory. If Minister Xing had shown even the slightest discrepancy today, he would likely have been arrested and taken into isolation at once.

Fortunately, he really was Minister Xing, so in the end he was escorted safely to the meeting room.

Once there, he saw the figures he had previously encountered only on television or beneath the signatures on important documents. Though he was no longer young and possessed nerves of steel, he could not help feeling a sharp shock. Still, Minister Xing had seen blood and arrested countless vicious criminals; he was hardly at a loss for words. He managed to take his assigned seat with reasonable composure.

It was only when he finally received the meeting materials that he had read a few pages before his pupils contracted. His throat went so dry he thought he might never speak again.

Minister Xing had heard of classified documents of this level. Every page bore a serial number and his name. This one was called Document No. 76. Of course, he understood why it had been marked that way: it had been prepared specifically for him.

And if there was a No. 76, then there had to be at least seventy-five before it! Each copy, marked with a number and a name, would differ in some way. The overall plan was surely the same, but crucial details—locations, personnel, and the like—would vary. If the materials leaked, or something went wrong at any stage, they could tell at a glance who had leaked them or who had been responsible for the failure. What a burden to place on every single person!

The grave, solemn document nevertheless bore a name that was rather adorable, though not in the least amusing.

“Everyone, please look up. I’ll now explain the Angel Project.”

At the sound of the voice, Minister Xing immediately placed his document face down on the table. The people around him did the same.

For a moment, the only sounds were the rustle of paper and the quiet breathing of those present. In that enormous conference hall, hundreds of people sat in an atmosphere so solemn and oppressive that it might have held only a handful.

Listening to the rustling pages, Minister Xing suddenly realized that this document must exist only in hard copy.