Chapter 50: The King of Insects (Part Seven)

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“December 1983, a clear day in a narrow alley~ Night, Chapter Seven~ The typewriter keeps pushing forward~”

On the way back to the safe zone, Zhou Ke hummed a little tune, feeling somewhat uplifted.

He opened *Crime and Punishment* in his hands, stopping at the very first page.

[Holder: Zhou Ke]

[Sin Level: lv3]

[Unallocated Freedom Points: 0]

[Torment Points: 161]

[Due to your crusade against stronger foes, the Blood God highly praises you, bestowing honor. The second argument of *Crime and Punishment* has been unlocked: Soul Hunting Unmatched.]

“Even after killing the Dog King, my sin level didn’t rise. I guess it only tallies after clearing the [Gate].”

“But the torment points jumped from 131 to 161. Judging purely by physical condition, I should be on par with Candlewick, Level Six.”

“The amount of ether remains the same—like Mars, Level Seven. That’s almost a whole rank difference. Am I too specialized?”

Flipping to page four, yes, after the battle with the Dog King, Zhou Ke was still able to maintain his composure and reached the fourth page, unlocking a new [Argument].

“Permitting people to kill without remorse is far more terrifying than formally sanctioning bloodshed, legally endorsing bloodshed.”

After reading all the contents of page four, Zhou Ke gained a rudimentary understanding of the ‘Void Sovereign.’

This unusual scholar, who focused on the study of human nature and the soul, divided worldly sins into four categories: Torment, Treachery, Pollution, and Lust.

The core idea behind ‘Torment’ is:

Conflicts in the world are inevitable; conflicts lead to bloodshed; bloodshed breeds hatred; hatred spawns more hatred.

Thus, conflicts never cease; killing never ends.

The book describes a rather blunt and straightforward solution: fill every human mind with the desire to kill.

Killing fueled by deep-seated grudges, killing driven by hatred, killing anyone who displeases you.

In short, just keep killing, killing, killing.

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Until those who can coexist peacefully survive to build a perfect, harmonious utopia; or no one survives, and the human era ends in the ecstasy of slaughter.

How to put it? Even Mr. Zhou, who isn’t exactly pure-hearted by nature, found this somewhat extreme. But as for whether it’s feasible, he couldn’t say for sure.

After all, the theme of *Crime and Punishment* is to eliminate sin, to eradicate the root of sin—to eliminate ugly human nature itself—which is also a form of effective elimination.

“This masterpiece, truly, whoever reads it goes mad,” Zhou Ke shook his head and closed the book.

As he walked, he saw several examinees squatting by the roadside. He glanced at them disinterestedly, greeted with a casual “Hey,” then continued forward.

Unexpectedly, those examinees weren’t satisfied and called out loudly, “Hey! Wait up!”

Noticing their direct stare at his bare upper body, Zhou Ke paused and replied with reason, “Have I bewitched you so completely?”

“Who’s bewitched by you? I’m a guy, damn it!” one male examinee jumped up anxiously.

“Heh, I know. Usually when that’s said, it’s a disguise trope—like a beautiful girl disguised as a boy getting close to the protagonist. Classic cliché,” Zhou Ke said, clearly skeptical.

“Not that. How can you joke at a time like this?” The examinees were stunned, some even indignantly said, “Don’t you see? Someone’s about to die!”

In the center of their circle lay a person missing over half his body.

Judging by the dark skin tone, it was probably Mr. Zhou’s classmate, Antonini.

Zhou Ke originally wanted to say something like, “Massive sale, buy half get half free,” or “Fast weight loss, lost dozens of pounds in no time”—those kinds of cruel jokes.

But he felt those lines weren’t fresh or amusing enough, so he refrained.

He simply replied coldly, “I see. And then?”

“And then?” The examinees hadn’t expected to be questioned back.

“My abilities aren’t medical, and I recently used up my only healing tool.” Zhou Ke raised his bandaged hand to demonstrate.

“There’s no way to contact the proctors either. By my estimate, with that much blood loss, he won’t last half a minute. Even immediate rescue would have a slim chance of success.”

The examinees were even more surprised by Zhou Ke’s professional assessment and didn’t know how to respond.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant, if someone’s being murdered, at least show some worry or sympathy on your face!”

“What good would that do? Would it keep him alive?”

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Zhou Ke’s retort silenced them completely.

“If you have the leisure, you might as well ask him if he has any last wishes. But if he says he wants fried chicken or watermelon, just forget it.”

Without any hint of discrimination, Zhou Ke finished speaking and was about to leave.

But then he sensed something amiss and stopped to ask, “Where did you find him?”

The examinees, stunned by Zhou Ke’s previous words, took a moment to respond. One pointed behind them: “By the manhole cover, following the blood trail. Looks like he crawled up from the sewer.”

“We tried to move him, but the more we moved, the more he bled. We couldn’t get far.”

Another added, “The proctors are nowhere to be found. Usually, someone follows us during the exam.”

“Hmm.” Zhou Ke pondered, organizing the information and quickly concluded that an accident had occurred during the mage exam.

“The proctors can’t manage the examinees anymore, meaning the situation is already beyond their ability to handle in the short term.”

As he considered this, Fenrir’s wolf head circled his neck, and he drew the Spirit Key from its sheath.

Holding his blade in one hand, Zhou Ke headed toward the manhole without looking back, warning, “If you don’t want to die a meaningless death like the extras in many stories, you’d better hurry back to the safe zone.”

Of course, Mr. Zhou wanted to return to the safe zone to relax, but after piecing together the information, he roughly guessed the accident was related to the Worm King.

If this new monster leader, the Worm King, were hunted down by the other examinees, Zhou Ke’s ranking points would be surpassed, which would disrupt his plan.

“Ugh, exhausting. Why can’t I just rest? And the name ‘Worm King’ sounds all slimy and disgusting.”

Carrying a belly full of complaints, Zhou Ke leapt straight into the sewer entrance.

With a thud, he landed and immediately caught a strong metallic scent of blood overpowering the usual stench.

Bathed in Fenrir’s eerie glow, the chilling bloodstains stretched forward, as if a terrifying monster had given chase.