Compulsion’s Gospel.
Though the scene was bizarre, after the first cut fell, Fu Qian still gave a fair comntary.
Like exhausting the last bit of value to complete the offering, the shriveled skin was already honeycombed.
The color like withered wood and the bloodline buried beneath it made for a stark contrast, almost giving one the urge to peel away the blood scabs from the skin.
And the male office worker was indeed doing just that.
Cut by cut, piece by piece, any previous hesitation had vanished without a trace, and all his energy was clearly focused on the task at hand.
You could even clearly see his hand trembling slightly.
Not from nervousness, but from excitent.
As soone with strong empathy, Fu Qian easily made the judgnt.
It was clear that both the male and female office worker were being consud by the urge to peel away the blood scabs, losing control of both body and mind.
The advantage was that the loss of control did not turn them into lunatics, but rather made them kneel involuntarily as if before a miracle.
As for the person being treated, there was not a trace of pain on their face, and their posture perfectly complented that of the office workers.
Their body was as straight as an arrow, and an almost palpable sense of euphoria was spreading, as if cleansing off dirt and touching divine grace.
This intense joy from casting off shackles was so strong that you could see the two hanging hands slightly bending, unable to resist the urge to quickly tear it open by themselves.
Although this impulse was firmly restrained by the female office worker on guard.
She seed very well-prepared.
Faced with such seamless cooperation, Fu Qian watched with great interest.
Of course, he didn’t hold back on his praise, while also not neglecting his old friends, continuing to pay attention to himself.
The transformation was still ongoing.
On the back of his hand, the shape of a leech was already very visible.
The skin wasn’t torn, so it looked as if it had tunneled underneath.
Throughout this process, the burlap doll made no new moves, yet it didn’t withdraw the curse either, consistently outputting negative effects, aiding him in drawing closer to the "Lonely King."
Flourishing and thriving, there was no doubt about it.
Fu Qian still took no action, quietly feeling the almost overflowing vitality of this place where the dream began.
...
"Why——"
Unfortunately, tranquility was always fleeting. Just as the harmonious atmosphere persisted for less than a minute, a hysterical growl swept through the surroundings.
It wasn’t the seated person who felt the pain and wanted to struggle up.
Quite the opposite, it was the one holding him down who let out the roar.
So much so that the newcor, caught in the throes of release, was forced to open his eyes, the joy frozen on his face.
Honestly, from this angle, there was nothing unusual about the female office worker, but the sound indeed had a desperate feel to it.
As for why there was such a reaction, Fu Qian felt he could make an educated guess—the female office worker’s gaze was fixed intently on the one wielding the knife.
And the latter, who had controlled the situation all along, had suddenly stopped his hand movents.
There was still a small part unfinished, making the newcor look as if he was wearing a stand-up collar shirt, yet the hand holding the knife seed frozen, showing no intent to continue.
"Why——"
After a few monts of stalemate, the male office worker repeated the sa line and tone.
"Why isn’t there divine grace?"
...
Divine grace?
The comfort lay in the fact that despite the emotional instability, there was so substance to the comnts.
The male office worker’s final bewildernt was clearly key to understanding the sudden change in events.
Part of the fear experienced by the female office worker obviously originated from him.
And the reason he stopped was not seeing divine grace.
As for what "divine grace" was——
Fu Qian’s gaze fell on the newcor’s neck.
Clean, tender, like a crab just shed from its shell.
Initially, there was speculation that this might be the normal appearance after shedding, but now it seed otherwise.
Judging from the reactions of the male and female office workers, even if freshly peeled, it should likely have so white marks adhering to it.
Just like the blood light inside the leech, this too was a testant to the Lonely King’s favor.
And this group’s ideology revolved around discovering this point from within their bodies, discarding useless burdens to draw closer to it.
An easy-to-understand approach.
Even for Fu Qian, he could sowhat grasp what went wrong.
"Blasphemy against divine grace——"
During the comntary, the male office worker seed to reach a conclusion as well.
The next mont he suddenly turned his head, fixing a deathly stare on this side.
Even his previously wandering eyes settled, ready to bulge out, tainted with blood-red.
...
Indeed, so petty soul must have interfered, causing to lose the Lonely King’s favor.
Fu Qian found this reaction anything but surprising.
Whenever involving issues of faith’s blessings, once they fail, seeking external scapegoats is a common occurrence.
After all, such matters can’t be quantified; how could there be a problem with my faith? Who dares question my devotion?
Even I dare not.
In such situations, anything can beco a scapegoat—though in this case, he indeed might be the one responsible.
Fu Qian’s earlier understanding wasn’t only about the male office worker’s reaction; it even covered the core issue of why there was no "divine grace."
It was truly simple: if it can help him feel more favored, why can’t it weaken others’?
Do not underestimate the Needle Witch’s adept manipulation behind the scenes.
Furthermore, acknowledging this brought even a sense of reassurance to Fu Qian.
In the end, couldn’t contain the restlessness?
...
Obviously, it was targeting .
Though he didn’t consider the trio’s presence here overly influenced by inducents.
But in Fu Qian’s view, the subsequent odd changes couldn’t escape the Needle Witch’s manipulations.
From the mont I sat down, a subtle struggle had begun.
As I ntioned before, for the Needle Witch and the possible Night Watchman behind, the curse cast upon was still an open plot.
Either fail to carry out the act, exposing only a bluff.
Or remain unfazed, becoming their tool to touch the Lonely King.
And this stalemate, upon the trio selecting this place as their ceremonial site, was clearly disturbed.
Though the male office worker wisely decided to play dumb, directly ignoring my existence, the Needle Witch clearly didn’t want to miss such a valuable external resource.
And for these fervent believers with obsessive ntal states, inducing them was all too easy.
With just a slight move, conflict was ready to ignite, no matter how I later responded, more would be forced into exposure—but it was the Needle Witch who got exposed first.
First move is first move, regardless of the reason.
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