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Now reading: Chapter 5552 - 578: Blackest Night (67) from Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics, a Fantasy novel by Meet Shepherd Burn Rope.

The Blood Tide controlled by the Black Death Emperor has grown to be quite bizarre. It’s not quite a monster, more like a blood-red wind. Because too many human tissues have already transford into hexagonal structures of fiber, the entire creature doesn’t move by physical force and, when floating close to the ground, resembles a tsunami sweeping through a city.

But beyond this, there are higher experts. The creature that abruptly appeared in Shiller’s view didn’t quite look like a monster. To be precise, it transcended the current human understanding of ’monsters’ because it was a ’freak.’

So may have heard of molecular gastronomy. Simply put, it’s about breaking down a type of food and then reassembling it into a new form similar to the previous shape. For example, smashing a strawberry, adding various seasonings, placing it into a strawberry-shaped mold, and freezing it into a new strawberry ice cream. The human race seems to love doing such seemingly pointless things, and this clearly shows they have been influenced by God.

During the billions of years of Earth’s evolutionary journey, God has played countless jokes. His black humor is reflected in every dragon scale and every Beast’s Talons. And today, God has conducted molecular gastronomy on the human race.

The monster that crawled out of the lake was composed of nurous fragnted human structures. Amazingly, it had limbs and a head made from countless incomplete human faces. To further prove this form wasn’t a coincidence, they deliberately left two holes on the head, pretending to be eyes.

The whole body of this monster was ford from human corpse fragnts. They were incorporated at varying stages of decay. So were relatively intact, so had started to rot, and so were so decayed that only bones remained. When assembled together, they achieved an astonishing harmony. Bones provided support, heavily decayed parts beca fat, and less decayed ones attached to the outer layer as defense. The whole organism’s cycle appeared vibrant.

The appearance of this monster stunned everyone at the scene, especially the Black Death Emperor—even more so the Black Death Emperor.

One must know, the Black Death Emperor governs Death. But the human race is special; he, like other mysterious beings, pays more attention to the human race. He had witnessed countless human deaths, believing that no form of death could surprise him anymore.

Yet, upon seeing this monster, he suddenly realized that his Sanity Points also have limits. More importantly, he realized profoundly how unimaginable the limits of human evil are, surpassing even beings like him.

His ultimate goal is to return the cosmos to lifeless silence. anwhile, the human race’s ultimate goal is to equally tornt every life in the cosmos, including themselves.

He wasn’t quite sure of the human race’s purpose in bringing this monster before him. It seed more like a demonstration than a sacrifice. It was as if they were showing him the extent of human capability.

Admittedly, such a warning and intimidation were effective. At the mont he saw this monster, the Black Death Emperor had an impulse to run. He controls Death, spreads evil, yet regarding madness, no race in the cosmos could outdo the human race. Born from order, they use every brain cell and neuron to challenge the limits of disorder and chaos.

Contrary to the fear starting to grow within the Black Death Emperor, another group got excited. Those madn who had been focusing on the Blood Tide were thrilled by the sudden appearance of the monster.

If the Blood Tide had a unique, unseen grotesque beauty, a deathly beauty from another angle, then this subsequently appearing "freak" was the "murder art" most aligned with mainstream aesthetics. Its form, manners, and spiritual essence could all be deed perfect, with that lethal black humor as the finishing touch.

What do humans beco after death? Naturally, a corpse. An indisputable scientific Explanation, lacking imagination and philosophical insight. But the creator silently protests against this. Look at it; those devoid of artistic inclination with rigid minds—this is the "corpse" you desire. Because of its scientific nature, it appears so absurd. Just like Don Quixote, within an otherwise normal body resides a soul full of whimsical thoughts. Those mundane folk who cannot comprehend will only ever see the surface.

And everyone—at least those self-proclaid genius madn—love to embrace absurdity, extracting countless philosophical reflections and artistic values from it. Such a ludicrous body is their perfect material to showcase inspiration and deconstructive ability. Ordinary people may think they are Quasimodo, but in reality, they see themselves as gazing at the Bell Tower Monster and longing to be gazed at by Esralda.

"Who did this?!" Gordon roared. Because he despairingly discovered, if that monster in the lake was here, then where did that red monster co from? Indeed, unauthorized discharge issues are never resolved, only transferred. You stop Shiller from dumping bodies into the lake, so they throw them into the sea?! It would be better not to stop it; that way at least only the later monster would be bigger instead of having a King Kong vs. Godzilla scenario now.

"Who did this?!" everyone else was asking. Frenziedly probing each other, whispering, wanting to know who created such a great art piece, and upon hearing that familiar na, all sighed deeply.

They thought Rodriguez’s era was finally about to end, but unexpectedly, his pri was just beginning. To create such a work under Brainiac’s nose, it turns out he truly is the world’s greatest artist.

"That guy didn’t seem to make it," Harley stretched her neck to look over, "Why does it seem like he’s about to run away?"

"Run away? How could he possibly run away?" Jason couldn’t believe it. "These mysterious beings shouldn’t be afraid of sothing like this, right?"

"Hard to say," Harley comnted, "I can only assu he lacks the aesthetic appreciation for such art pieces. Essentially, he’s not much different from those vulgar people."

"Not quite." Jason said, "The Blood Tide is already a pretty perfect creation. If not for the Professor’s sudden ergence..."

"It wasn’t him who suddenly appeared," Harley interrupted, "it was us who brought that thing over."

"Alright. If it wasn’t for us letting it erge, the Blood Tide still would’ve looked pretty good, right? How could sothing like that not have any aesthetic sense?"

Harley frowned, realizing things weren’t that simple. She said, "The presence controlling the Blood Tide doesn’t seem to be its creator... Damn, we were all fooled by him, he’s a devious thief!"

Jason stroked his chin and said, "Now that’s interesting. Who stole the Blood Tide? Why did he do it? Was it just to show off in front of us?"

"More than that, I’m concerned about who that person is." Harley pointed at the Super Body flying behind them. In reality, the Super Body shouldn’t have been visible to them, but the monster that suddenly appeared from the lake scared it out.

The figure emitting a gentle white light stood there dumbfounded, seemingly unable to believe what it was seeing. This was when Brainiac’s advancent ca into play. With no empathy, it naturally acted as a Shield, and its extre order processes helped filter out cognitive pollution. The Super Body clearly didn’t have this advantage and thus faced what might be the greatest piece of art so far, only to be frozen in place as its Sanity Points dropped to zero.

Shiller felt speechless, he really wanted to ask the Super Body, why are you just standing there? Weren’t you supposed to be chasing the Black Death Emperor?

Shiller’s plan was actually quite simple. He knew the Black Death Emperor’s exploration of the Old Day Dominator wouldn’t go smoothly, as evident from his constant summoning of undead to draw power, which consud a lot of his energy.

Thus, as long as his power source was cut off, he would undoubtedly react. The sunk costs spent on the Outer Gods and the Old Day Dominator would not allow him to abandon exploration easily. By intercepting all his summoned minions, he’d be forced out by hunger.

Getting him to co out was only the first step. The key was to make him actively cleanse the Death Energy within the physical bodies of the undead. It wasn’t about completely expelling them like the Super Body, but rather extracting the energy while maintaining the revival state, similar to corpses on a beach. Only through this could they have a real chance at revival.

Driving the Black Death Emperor out of this cosmos wasn’t difficult; the hardest part was how to protect his converted undead. They were once living people, and so were deliberately killed and revived by the Black Death Emperor to plant his agents in critical areas. Neither Shiller nor Brainiac could easily give up on these people.

So, forcing the Black Death Emperor out to pursue his summoning is crucial. By continually putting pressure on him, making him extract energy from the undead, the Death Force within them can be partly cleared, laying the groundwork for future revival.

The thod of applying pressure is naturally the Super Body, with its Life Force countering the Death Force. As long as she keeps chasing the Black Death Emperor, eventually, she will exhaust his global summoning. Although not all can be saved, recovering the majority would still be considered a success.

But you see, nothing in Gotham ever goes according to plan. No matter how perfect the plan, the Gothamites will turn it into a pile of dog shit.

Shiller thought through gritted teeth, he better not find out who brought that thing from the lake in front of his house here. Of course, part of the bla lies with the Super Body. Just one glance was enough, did she have to stand there admiring it for that long?

Actually, the Super Body wasn’t admiring it, she was so frightened her brain had shut down. Let’s repeat, not everyone is a Gothamite, able to ignore such things. Abilities are secondary, the appearance and the conveyed spirit are the true lethal weapons.

The good news is where there is Wolong, there will be Phoenix. The Super Body had lost all its Sanity Points, and the Black Death Emperor didn’t have much left either. After a brief mont of thought, he had to admit a very sad truth: he had once again chosen the wrong cosmos.

But it doesn’t matter. Although he had invested a lot of power into this cosmos, the loss was still acceptable. Rather than competing with this group of unreasonable Madn, it would be better to find an easier target to deal with.

Almost instantly, the Blood Tide began to descend. This indicated that the source of power controlling this eerie phenonon was preparing to leave.

Shiller’s expression darkened. If he really let him get away like this, then the plan would be a complete failure. Seeing as the Super Body was not to be relied upon, Shiller could only initiate his backup plan.

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