"'Lamp holder' Sir, the rest is up to you. We'll wait outside. Be careful."

Soon, the 'Mystic Practitioner' led the 'Rabbit' out from the depths of the alley, back to the ordinary, smoke-filled street.

The 'Rabbit' had confusion written across her face as she asked, "Boss, why did we leave? I felt that voice was kind and familiar. If there's treasure in the church, wouldn't 'Lamp holder' reap all the benefits?"

"That's not treasure. It's a trap." The 'Mystic Practitioner' spoke with a faint tremor in her voice, her heart gripped by lingering fear.

"A trap?"

"Little girl, earlier, you told me to ignore the ravings and find 'Lamp holder' first—you were quite clever at that time. So why are you being dumb now?"

"Come on, Boss, stop being cryptic."

"How foolish. Use your little brain that only knows how to eat and think carefully. If it were truly treasure, then how could the voice we heard calling out be identical? Clearly, this is a trap laid for hunting."

After hearing the reminder, the 'Rabbit' finally understood. Her delicate face instantly turned pale as she murmured close to herself, "So, if we hadn't gone to find the 'Lamp holder' first and instead explored the church, wouldn't we be done for?"

The 'Mystic Practitioner' had wanted to say that it wouldn't necessarily end so badly. After all, in the face of true danger, they could recite the holy name of the 'God of Victory' and pray for the 'Lamp holder''s assistance. But suddenly, she realized that at the time, this sole S-level player unregistered in the Deceit Bureau was focused entirely on the critical plotline. There was a high chance that he wouldn't heed their prayers. She fell silent.

The chilling fear in her heart deepened.

...

Watching the 'Mystic Practitioner' and 'Rabbit' retreating, and after perceiving through spirituality to confirm that they had reached a safe location, Yang Qizhou redirected his attention to the church before him.

"Now, let's see what strange thing lies inside." With that, Yang Qizhou stepped forward.

The scenery in front of him shifted.

With one blink, one brief moment, Yang Qizhou somehow found himself in the ancient prayer hall of the church.

A massive chandelier was suspended by iron chains, swaying in the air. The yellowed walls were adorned with oil paintings rich in religious themes. Directly ahead was the prayer platform—where the priest presides over Mass. Upon arriving, the once misty and ethereal whispers grew distinctly clearer.

"Only targeting me, ignoring the escaping 'Mystic Practitioner' and 'Rabbit'? It seems the master of this church, the source of the eerie energy, has already sensed the threat I pose."

Yang Qizhou pondered, his gaze idly sweeping the surroundings.

The church was not spacious, and there were no hidden chambers—everything could be examined visibly without the need for deliberate exploration.

At that moment,

The eyes of the characters in the oil paintings on the walls began moving. Their pupils slowly shifted downward, their gaze fixating on Yang Qizhou. The atmosphere was unsettling, grotesque, and terrifying.

If an ordinary person were faced with such a scene, they'd likely have been scared into insanity.

"Playing tricks and pretending to be ghosts—is that fun?"

Yang Qizhou curled his lips, then raised his hand, snapping his fingers. The surrounding scene shattered like a pane of glass and quickly dissipated.

The familiar dim alley reappeared before him.

"An illusion? No, not quite. The scene just now had traces of 'True Power' mixed within. If someone under its spell truly believes they've entered the 'church,' then the initially false illusion would solidify into reality."

"'True Power' belongs to the branch symbolizing 'Correctness.'"

"In other words,"

"The source of the eerie energy here really might have deep, tangled ties to the 'Correct Sorcerer King.'"

Yang Qizhou murmured to himself, intensifying his intrigue toward the church ahead.

He stepped forward again.

As expected, the scenery morphed once more. Yang Qizhou found himself back on the street outside the alley; the 'Mystic Practitioner' and 'Rabbit' were nearby, their faces brimming with shock. They asked, "Sir, why did you come out too?"

Yang Qizhou didn't respond to them but spoke to himself instead, "No longer inside the church but beyond it. It seems the eerie source is afraid, trying to drive me away."

"What a pity—it's too late."

"I've already got my sights on you."

The wicked smirk at the corners of Yang Qizhou's mouth grew, thick with mischievous humor. Just like before, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers slowly.

Crack.

The scene shattered like glass once more.

Two steps, three steps, four steps—Yang Qizhou advanced toward the church in a leisurely manner. Although his pace was slow, his walk was calm. With each step forward, the scenery inevitably shifted around him—to deserts, oceans, and even, in one extravagant instance, to the depths of the cosmos.

But alas,

A false reality remains false. As long as it doesn't become a fixed truth, undoing it is not difficult.

Several minutes passed,

And Yang Qizhou smoothly arrived before the church doors. He raised his right hand, placed it on the door, then pushed with force...

The door swung open, revealing the familiar scene. Suspended by iron chains was the massive chandelier; the yellowed walls were adorned with oil paintings; the hall contained rows of long benches. It resembled what he had seen in the illusion earlier, save for one difference—the addition of a throne on the platform. Seated upon it was a woman whose hair cascaded down, hiding her face. Her entire body was grotesquely twisted from blood and flesh, looking utterly nightmarish.

"Turning illusion into reality—a fascinating power. Against anyone else, it might've worked perfectly, leading to an obscure death. Unfortunately, you couldn't have worse luck running into me."

Yang Qizhou casually chose a bench, sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and even lit a cigarette for himself.

A raspy voice rang out, "Bad luck? Ha, you truly think coming here was mere coincidence? Hahaha."

"Are you suggesting that everything was a deliberate setup?" Yang Qizhou sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "Do you think I'd believe that nonsense?"

At this moment,

The figure of the woman seated on the throne slowly raised her head. Her long hair slipped away, exposing an exceedingly twisted face marked with an extreme grotesque ugliness. Only her stunning eyes hinted at the beauty she once possessed.

"So, we meet again."

Yang Qizhou furrowed his brow, and with the intuition borne of spirituality, he instinctively knew that her words carried genuine sentiment. "We've met before?"

The woman's mesmerizing eyes brimmed with hate and fear.

"Met before? Not met before? I can't say. At that time, you couldn't exactly be considered yourself."

Playing riddles, cryptic nonsense—just like some 'charlatan.'

Yang Qizhou grew impatient, stood up, and invoked 'Power of Royal Authority.' His form transformed into an emperor crowned with laurels, clutching the [Residual Ring of the King of Truth] born of 'Destiny Reappearance' in one hand, and wielding a scepter with the other. He was determined to subdue the flesh-warped entity commanding the 'True Power,' leaving other concerns for later.

But at that moment,

The 'woman' flashed a bizarrely distorted smile and remarked with a cryptic hint, "Don't you think this power to rewrite worldlines feels familiar?"

Rewrite worldlines?

True Power?

Wait.

Yang Qizhou appeared to grasp something. His entire body shivered violently, his eyes widened as he stared ahead in disbelief.

"You're 'Philis'?"

"Weren't you supposed to perish under the divine might of the 'Master of Millions'? How come you're here—what on earth is going on?"

The 'Philis' on the throne suddenly revealed an expression of deep agony, as though subjected to excruciating torment. It took a few breaths before she calmed down, her face contorted in savagery and madness. "Perished? Hahaha. That event hasn't happened yet, but it might as well have already occurred. As for why I'm here—of course, it's because I want to kill you, to interfere with the inevitable tragedy. But alas, fate has long written its script. No one can preempt it, no one can delay it, and no one can change it."

"Hasn't happened yet? What do you mean by that?" Yang Qizhou expressed shock and urgency in his questioning.

Philis seemed unrestrained in revealing the truth. Her lips parted as if to speak, but suddenly, her body swelled unnaturally and exploded with a 'bang.' Only faint, spectral ravings lingered in the air.

"So, my arrival... was also part of the script..."

"Fate."

Everything calmed down shortly after. Where 'Philis' had vanished, a gemstone, shimmering with brilliant radiance, was left behind.

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