Stronger with More Jobs

Chapter 833: Chapter 327: Dead Man, Chen Wudi!

Underneath the stone mask was a proclamation so fervent it bordered on madness.

Clearly transmitted into the eardrums of Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei.

Amidst the even more fervent, more orderly whispered chants of the hundreds of Celestial Punishment Association members surrounding them, this sound reverberated repeatedly throughout the underground space.

Our God?

Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei almost simultaneously, imperceptibly, slowly turned their heads, their gaze briefly intersecting in the darkness beneath their hoods.

No words needed.

But both of their eyes flickered with confusion.

A God exclusive to them?!

This doesn’t seem like some kind of deliberate summoning divine descent ceremony.

Because there is no concept of an exclusive God, even if Fang Qingyu hasn’t delved into God’s teachings, he knows God’s doctrine is broad.

After all, who wouldn’t want more believers?

If they claim to have an exclusive God, imagine if their God actually knew.

Usually, they’d have to round up those believers.

So, the person tightly bound by the black metal chains, gleaming dimly, at the core of the ceremony on that giant cross, who are they?!

A sacrifice?

A vessel?

Or some crucial component of this unknown ritual?

This God, is it merely their imagined being, or...

Are they attempting to forcibly summon some terrifying entity from another dimension?!

After all, the Celestial Punishment Association is a religious organization.

They do not worship the current universally recognized divine beings.

But this question.

None could answer them.

The withered figure on the cross hung its head low, disheveled hair covering its face, its breath so faint as to be nearly undetectable, while those three thoroughly ink-black squares, [■■■], further isolated any possibility of investigation.

After the stone-masked leader finished chanting that prayer filled with fervor and twisted anticipation.

The collective murmur in the underground space reached a peak.

Then, as if receiving some silent command.

This low, incoherent sound started dissipating rapidly.

The entire process was swift and orderly, akin to the ebbing tide.

Hundreds of black-robed figures, prostrate on the ground, began to stand silently, uniformly.

No discussion, no exchange of glances.

Even their rising movements were astoundingly synchronized.

They resembled puppets set with programmed commands, turning, lowering their heads, merging once more into a silent stream of people, with almost identical strides, flowing toward the bend leading to the exit.

Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei immediately composed themselves.

Maintaining the same posture, they merged into the departing stream.

Bending slightly, lowering their heads, their wide hoods completely shrouding their features in shadow, their steps keeping in perfect rhythm with the surrounding Celestial Punishment Association members, showing no flaw.

Just by witnessing this scene.

Fang Qingyu knew the decision to infiltrate today was worth it.

But it wasn’t enough.

Nowhere near enough.

The person who provided them with identities and the guidance slip evidently knows more.

The information on the slip is clear.

As long as they don’t delve into the core restricted area, don’t speak, just using their masked identities at the periphery, they won’t arouse suspicion.

Now is the perfect time to use this identity.

A prime opportunity to probe peripheral information.

Following the silent stream.

Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei returned to the massive cross-shaped nexus they’d previously passed.

The stream diverged here.

Some continued up the wide stone steps, returning to the surface.

More, however, turned toward the main passageway on the other side of the nexus.

Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei didn’t hesitate for a moment.

Opted to follow this larger flow into the main passageway.

The main passageway’s sides were no longer rough black rock walls.

But covered with some kind of dark gray sound-absorbing material.

At intervals, there was a door with no markings, tightly closed.

From behind some of the doors came faint sounds.

The end of the main passage opened up.

A much larger arched hall unfolded before their eyes.

The scenery here was starkly different from the prayer space below, filled with religious zeal and the air of death.

This was a deathly silent work hall.

The hall was oval-shaped, with a towering dome.

Rows upon rows of workstations arranged like a beehive.

In front of each workstation sat a figure in a black robe, face obscured by a hood.

Yet still no voices...

No discussions, not even a cough.

The only sound in the entire hall.

Was the faint tapping of fingers on keyboards, "tap tap."

Everyone kept their heads down.

Fully focused on the screens before them.

Their faces hidden in shadow, making expressions impossible to discern, seemingly merely puppets programmed with tasks.

Silently performing their assigned tasks.

The strange combination of busy silence forming an atmosphere that sent chills down one’s spine.

Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei followed the stream into the passageway at the edge of the hall.

On either side of this passageway, more unmarked doors were densely packed.

Obviously, these were the independent offices of the Celestial Punishment Association’s deacons.

Fang Qingyu and Jiang Wei, impersonating "Mo Chuan" and "Liu Yun" as third-level deacons, undoubtedly had their own room.

The stream dispersed in the passage, with individuals heading to their respective offices.

Fang Qingyu was in no rush to explore.

He maintained his head-down posture, his footsteps unchanged, yet his gaze swiftly and discreetly scanned the entire passage through the gap of his hood.

The passage was not overly long.

About twenty or so rooms lined its sides.

Fang Qingyu’s gaze swept over each tightly closed door, observing the dust traces on the floor at the entrance, the sheen of the door handles.