Chapter 17: The Corridor of the Evil God

A long corridor, with countless closed doors on either side, exuding an evil aura that does not belong to this world.

Charlot Mecklenburg drew his short gun, channeling the Blood Glory, and activated the Eye of Insight to its fullest. He advanced into the depths of the mansion.

The mansion was incredibly vast and deep. After running for over ten minutes, Charlot still could not see an end. All he saw were endless corridors and countless closed doors.

He did not explore the rooms on either side of the corridor. Through the Eye of Insight, he could "see" that the rooms were engulfed in darkness, a realm that did not belong to the human world.

A strange buzzing sound grew louder, and as Charlot raised his short gun, he saw a black beetle fly toward him and circle around him.

Charlot hesitated for a moment, then took a step forward. The black beetle immediately flew a few meters ahead, seemingly guiding him.

Without hesitation, he followed the beetle.

The black beetle circled in the air, and the corridor around Charlot began to change. Countless new hallways appeared, with an endless number of branching paths.

Charlot felt a pang of regret but knew there was no turning back. He was certain that Annie was trapped in the dream realm.

As for whether it was worth rescuing a stranger...

That question was irrelevant now.

Under the beetle's guidance, Charlot ran for half an hour. He realized this situation was far from normal. The mansion, though grand, was not supposed to be this vast.

Growing more anxious, Charlot suddenly heard a scream. The black beetle sped up and led him down several more corridors.

Charlot took a few strides ahead and saw a young maid lying on the ground, her body covered in blood, her lower half a mangled mess. Upon seeing him, the maid’s eyes flashed with hope, and she trembled, calling out, "Save me... save me!"

Charlot's heart ached. Even as a master-level transcendent, he could not bring the dead back to life. That was the domain of gods.

This young maid had only her upper body left. He was powerless to save her.

Charlot could not bring himself to end her suffering.

All he could do was...

Walk past, covering his face.

The maid's cries grew more agonized, and Charlot's mood worsened.

He was certain of one thing: Yanmills was conducting some evil ritual. This mansion had transcended the human world, and he feared there were no living souls left inside.

"I wonder how Miss Annie Bretagne is... Has she met with misfortune?"

Charlot had never anticipated that what seemed like a small favor would turn into such a high-level battle.

He continued to follow the black beetle, when suddenly a young girl in hunting attire sprinted toward him. Upon seeing Charlot, she was both shocked and delighted, calling out, "Mr. Mecklenburg, save me!"

Charlot was momentarily stunned. He raised his nearly-new Magnum Mauler and asked, "How do you know me?"

The girl in hunting attire blushed slightly and replied, "I’m Annie! Annie Bretagne."

Before Charlot could respond, a creature more than three meters tall, its body glowing a deep red, like a monster without skin, appeared. It was wielding a giant spiked mace and slowly approached them.

In the face of such danger, Charlot surprisingly remained calm. He closed his eyes, then raised the Magnum Mauler and fired three quick shots at the girl in hunting attire.

As smoke filled the air, the figure of the girl began to blur and transformed into a tall, menacing man. In disbelief, he shouted, "How could you shoot at me?"

Charlot's response was simple—he fired two more shots.

At the same time, he felt a surge of relief. His first awakened ability had been the Eye of Insight.

Charlot did not understand why Yanmills had not disguised himself as the real Annie Bretagne, but instead chose to take the form of a strange girl. However, this did not affect the outcome.

His suspicion grew, and he used the Eye of Insight once more. He saw through the illusion and revealed the true identity of the girl in hunting attire. Five bullets ended the life of the one trying to awaken the evil god.

Yanmills fell to the ground, five bullet holes in his body, blood pouring out.

The creature, over three meters tall, still had not disappeared. Its red, skinless body continued to approach step by step.

Charlot took a deep breath and reached for the Vampiric axe hidden at his waist. Blood Glory surged into the axe, and the blade glowed faintly with a blood-red light.

Back in his university days, Charlot's primary focus had been on government administrative work, and he had no intention of becoming a combatant.

His martial skills were average at best, and his close combat techniques were particularly lacking. He had little battle experience.

If it were not for necessity, Charlot would have preferred to avoid fighting.

In this situation, fighting was not the best option.

Charlot even hesitated to use the Eye of Insight.

If the opponent was that foreign god of chaos...

Staring directly at the evil god would likely leave him blind.

A slightly better outcome would be complete madness.

The worst outcome would not be death, but a bloodline curse that doomed future generations to misfortune from birth.

The former had tried once and met a swift and decisive end!

Another possibility existed.

This monster could be... Annie Bretagne.

The girl had been transformed into such a monstrous form by the corrupting power.

Whether he killed a noblewoman of the Bretagne family or was killed by Annie, it would be a severe incident.

"Why must I fight?"

"I was just a math teacher in my past life, not a combatant!"

Charlot watched the approaching monster, torn by indecision.

The perimeter of Yanmills' estate was surrounded by city patrol guards.

Among them, Charlot recognized a few familiar faces. Some were officers he had encountered during his investigation at the Savings Union apartments. Young, handsome patrol officer Dubin looked at the swirling black fog and asked with a headache, "Can someone tell me what's happening here?"

One of the patrol officers replied, "This is Yanmills' estate. He killed his wife a few days ago. Who knows, maybe he's so remorseful that he's trying to use some dark magic to summon her soul back and continue tormenting her."

This grim joke did not bring laughter. Instead, it darkened the mood of the patrol officers. If the joke turned out to be true, they would be in serious trouble.

Summoning souls from the underworld was no small matter!

Dubin scoffed at this explanation. He looked at the Yanmills estate, which was covered in thick black fog, and had no intention of investigating further.

The young patrol officer muttered, "When will the transcendent come?"

The officer who had joked earlier said, "Transcendents have a lot more lives to lose than we do."

Dubin reprimanded him, but couldn't help agreeing with the remark. Every time something like this happened, the transcendents never "rushed to the scene"—they only waited until the situation became clear, then appeared casually, taking all the credit for themselves.

Dubin prided himself on his swordsmanship, but he was not a transcendent. In such a situation, swordsmanship would be useless, and reckless action would only lead to his death.

He sighed and said, "Let's wait for orders from above. Our job is to guard the perimeter and prevent anyone from approaching."

The black fog around Yanmills' mansion grew thicker.

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