Apocalyptic Era: Starting from picking up a Bishoujo
Chapter 533 - 500 shows its fangs

Chapter 533: 500 shows its fangs

"In the future, when you encounter other blessed monks, make sure not to immediately ask about their abilities because that is personal privacy."

The cartographer seemed to have forgotten that he had previously asked me if I had any abilities besides manipulating flames. He first seriously reminded Tan Xiang, then answered, "As for my ability, I can tell you. My ability is ’guiding direction’."

"Guiding direction?" Tan Xiang asked, puzzled.

"The most basic application of this ability allows me to know which path to take at a fork in the road that best suits my needs," the cartographer said candidly. "A more advanced application is that when faced with choices, it can remind me which option is correct. When I’m in mortal danger, it can also help me immediately determine which direction is the path to survival...

"The reason I was able to find you based on bloodstains and shoeprints is because of this ability. Of course, under the influence of chaotic space-time, this ability cannot work perfectly; it must be combined with the guidance from the blessing lights to enhance assurance.

"There is no such thing as an absolute ability in this world. When facing something too immense, my ability will also fail. It’s because of this ability that I can survive safely until today..."

As he continued speaking, he showed a self-mocking smile.

Tan Xiang, however, grew more envious and finally asked, "So... how can I become a blessed monk like you and Zhuang Cheng?"

The cartographer replied indifferently, "Very simple, just deeply infect yourself with frenzy."

"You said... what?" Tan Xiang’s face changed.

"Blessed monks and Sin Demons have the same root, which is frenzy," the cartographer explained. "The most distinct feature of frenzy infection reaching a deep stage is mental chaos, along with hallucinations and auditory hallucinations generated during the process. You’ll see a non-existent full moon in the night sky and hear unknown, mad, and chaotic mumblings.

"Those illusory murmurings are also called ’gospel’ by survivors. It will incite you to kill when your mind is chaotic, and most people will lose their resistance at this stage, becoming Sin Demons.

"Only a few can stand out and become blessed monks."

I asked, baffled, "Voices inciting others to kill... are actually called ’gospel’?"

"It’s said that in the Old Civilization, there was a tale of ’Pandora’s Box,’ a box hiding thousands of despair and a thread of hope, and the gospel carries the same nature," the cartographer said lightly. "People believe that amidst the frenzy curse-filled gospel hides a blessing voice, and only those lucky enough to hear this while in a confused, delirious state can receive the blessing.

"As for whether it’s truly so, even I, as a blessed monk, am unsure. Because I can’t remember the state of my mind while nearing Sin demonization. In fact, even now, I occasionally hear the illusory and deranged murmurings ordering me to kill, yet I can’t find the so-called blessing sound."

I recalled what Little Bowl had described, the "voice of the world" she heard.

It was like being on the verge of death, a very chaotic, delirious mumbling-like voice.

Although it sounded somewhat like the ’gospel’ described by the cartographer, Little Bowl never said the voice she heard incited her to kill.

Could it be that what Little Bowl heard was the hidden blessing voice within the chaotic "gospel"?

What the cartographer said was even more comprehensive and profound than what Mazao told me before. However, Mazao also mentioned parts the cartographer hadn’t, such as in the Doomsday Era, only the human gods at the Evangelical Institute can decipher the content of the gospel. This likely refers to the hidden blessing voice.

Combining that with the fact that the Evangelical Institute can create a naturally pulsating "blessing," it’s likely the Evangelical Institute truly has some unknown connection with the dying "voice of the world."

"To become a blessed monk, one must deeply infect oneself with frenzy..." Tan Xiang struggled immensely, "No risk, no reward..."

"I advise you not to hold too many fantasies about the blessing power," the cartographer doused a cold water shower. "Even if you miraculously awaken the blessing power you desire, you might regret it afterward."

"Why is that?" I asked for Tan Xiang.

The cartographer said, "The essence of blessing power is to materialize people’s inner desires. And the greater the desire, the more it represents unattainability. No, it should be said in the opposite manner: because we cannot attain it, our longing can transform into blessing power.

"In other words, once we are satisfied, we become no longer thirsty, thus losing our power.

"As if avoiding this, the fate of blessed monks always diverges from what they desire. The more they want something, the more elusive it becomes. This is a cursed power."

Taken aback by the words, Tan Xiang hesitated for a moment, then said, "Wait a minute, according to this logic, your power as a cartographer is ’guiding direction,’ does that mean your fate is always lost?"

"..."

The cartographer did not reply but clapped his hands.

As if hearing a summon, a boy and girl emerged from the shadows. The boy held the cartographer’s cloak and lantern; the cartographer approached him, donned the cloak, and took the lantern.

It was at this moment that I noticed something.

Now, I too could vaguely sense the boy and girl’s soul and emotional changes. Much like the cartographer, the usually silent boy was also enveloped with a clear malice toward others. This emotion appearing in the cartographer as a blessed monk was understandable, but in the boy, it was baffling. To ordinary people, this isn’t merely a thought but rather an unrestrained intent to kill.

Even the wooden-faced girl showed the same malice, not possessing any particular target, more like a chaotic instinct aimed at everyone around her.

From our first meeting until now, the two children hadn’t uttered a word. I had thought it was a natural wariness toward strangers, a dullness resulting from living in such harsh conditions as innocent children. But now, it seemed that their silence was an effort in concealing their imminent, uncontrollable malice toward the external world.

These are symptoms of frenzy deep infection.

Such intense malice would drive an adult insane, yet these two children remained unfazed. How?

Looking at the cartographer again, I noticed more anomalies. The malice on the cartographer was specifically directed at me and Tan Xiang, not at the two kids. If this was the cartographer’s instinctive malice towards others as a blessed monk, it was overly targeted.

The cartographer’s previous statements also contained intriguing details. Mazao once said only fallen blessed monks believe the gospel guides blessed monks to unleash a killing spree, while the cartographer defined the gospel directly as "a voice inciting humans to kill." Could this mean the cartographer is inherently part of the fallen blessed monk faction?

"Let’s go, Zhuang Cheng."

Standing at the doorway, the cartographer turned to look at me, "Let’s head outside together."

"Cartographer, before that, may I ask you a question?" I inquired.

"Go ahead," the cartographer looked at me.

I asked directly, "Why do you want to kill me and Tan Xiang?"

Tan Xiang’s expression changed dramatically at the words.

The cartographer paused, then snapped his fingers.

Tan Xiang was quietly stepping toward the window, but with the sound of the snap, his body abruptly fell to the ground as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Almost simultaneously, my vision went black, and a strong sense of powerlessness instantly suffused every corner of my body, as if I could no longer stand from the chair.