Chapter 22: The “Descended” Saint

Chapter 22: The “Descended” Saint

As the cloth doll stood upright, its eyes, which possessed not the slightest spark of life and were completely unable to turn, gazed toward the area untouched by the crimson moonlight. The man with the small red swelling on his face and the other cultists had originally been standing there quietly. Now, one after another, they lowered their heads and raised their hands, as though assuming a posture of prayer, piously listening to the “divine oracle.”

Only two or three seconds later, the cloth doll finally stood completely straight. Just as it was about to open its tongue-less mouth and release a voice that did not belong to this “body,” all its movements suddenly turned jerky, like a machine badly rusted.

Klein, hidden among the cultists, had seen the cloth doll strangely extend Spirit Body Threads just now, and had not hesitated in the slightest before beginning manipulation!

Inside the brightly lit room, the light abruptly dimmed. The cloth doll with curved eyes and mouth seemed to have had the support of its bones pulled away. It collapsed heavily onto the table and no longer moved at all.

More than a thousand meters away, as a streetlamp flickered, Klein lost control of that cluster of Spirit Body Threads. The power descending through the cloth doll had taken only one or two seconds to jump outside the range of his ability!

Whoosh!

A cold wind that chilled to the bone blew through the room. The carpet beneath the tables and chairs suddenly twitched, flipping the man with the red swelling on his face and most of the cultists to the ground. Only Klein, who had disguised himself, leaped up in advance and avoided this accident.

Of course, Winner Enzo happened to be standing at the edge of the carpet and was not affected much.

Whoosh!

Amid the cold wind, the carpet rolled up and tightly wrapped around several cultists. Then it sealed their mouths and noses firmly and strangled their throats.

At the same time, the round-bellied fountain pens on the desk removed their caps by themselves and shot outward, stabbing into the neck of the man with the small red swelling on his face, densely packed without the slightest gap.

The wooden chairs exploded with a bang, sending fine spikes sweeping outward, sparing none of the other cultists.

Against the wall, the gas pipes of the lamps split open on their own, releasing hissing gas from within.

The curtain cloth laid across the sofa then stood up, twisting into a rope and coiling around the conductor’s throat. Several floorboards snapped upward, stabbing from below into the bodies of several cultists.

In that instant, every object in the room filled with aggression, attempting to strangle every life here.

Klein wanted to dodge, but the shirt, trousers, belt, coat, and top hat on his body had all gained lives of their own, forcefully sealing him in place.

His mouth suddenly opened, and he made a sound:

“Snap!”

He imitated the sound of snapping his fingers.

Crimson flames rose from his pocket, instantly covering his body and undoing the restraint.

At this moment, the curtain cloth on another sofa stood up, as though draped over the body of an invisible person.

That strange image immediately reflected in Klein’s eyes. His body trembled, stiffening in place as he suffered possession by the “evil spirit”!

The flames that had previously risen had still not been extinguished. They were about to burn away clothing, flesh, and blood, but instead, they burned the entire person into a pitch-black paper figurine.

The back of this paper figurine was covered in feather-like patterns, giving it an unreal, half-illusory feeling.

This was the mutated paper figurine that had been contaminated by the aura of the artificial Death!

From the very beginning, Klein had understood that, if he wanted to wait until the cloth doll changed, there were only two possibilities. First, the one impersonating a god was nearby, could detect the deaths of his…