Chapter 27: A Second Bloom? I Was the One Who Killed the Priest!

As the sunlight faded, the church grew dim. The atmosphere was stifling; no one spoke. Father Charles, who had been composed just hours earlier, was now a wreck. He was deathly pale, his eyes bloodshot, and his hair was disheveled from his own frantic tugging. He glanced left and right, then stood up cautiously, not daring to make a sound.

Yet, almost the moment he rose, three pairs of eyes locked onto him in perfect unison. Father Charles froze.

"I... I'll turn on the lights," he stammered.

"Li Muchi, turn on the lights!" Zhou Quan’s gaze was sharp as electricity. He stared intently at Father Charles’s face, ordering Li Muchi, who was beside him.

As the words fell, Li Muchi immediately jumped off his chair, scurried to the wall, and switched on the church lights. The interior brightened. Feeling the cold, artificial glow on his skin, Father Charles opened his mouth helplessly, unable to utter a word.

"Father, is there anything else?" Zhou Quan asked with a smile.

"...No, nothing else." Father Charles looked defeated and sat back down.

The light switch was by the church entrance. If he had been allowed to turn on the lights, he would have bolted for the street; he would rather die in plain sight of everyone. Damn it! This guy is so strong, yet so cautious! He won’t give me a single chance!

Seeing Father Charles sit down, Zhou Quan tilted his head and looked up at the icon hanging above the altar. For the past few hours, he had been praying to God.

*Oh God! Please help me! If You won't help me, at least help Father Charles. You must see how devoted he is to You, don't You?*

The icon remained silent. Time ticked away, and as Zhou Quan leaned back in his chair, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. His eyelids felt like they were filled with lead, too heavy to lift. Before long, he drifted into a deep sleep.

"I am sorry, Father Charles."

"I am a sinner who deserves to go to hell."

"I have repaid kindness with malice and shall die a wretched death."

Zhou Quan’s eyes were tightly shut and his lips were sealed, yet eerie murmurs emanated from within his body. Li Muchi was the first to notice the anomaly.

"Boss?"

Li Muchi reached out and nudged Zhou Quan, but there was no reaction. Furthermore, the murmurs from within him grew louder. Just then, Ni Hao heard the sound as well. She turned to look at Zhou Quan, her eyes filled with curiosity and caution. She saw wisps of black mist seeping from Zhou Quan’s skin, coalescing into a vague human silhouette that struggled to sit upright from his body.

"Good evening, God," Li Muchi whispered, a look of pious reverence appearing on his youthful face.

Father Charles also rose to his feet. He saw the black mist rising from Zhou Quan and then heard the ethereal, haunting apologies, causing his soul to flee in terror. *He’s apologizing! He’s going to kill me!*

At that moment, Father Charles abandoned all caution. He bolted toward the church’s back door. His cassock billowed as he ran with the intensity of a hundred-meter sprint, dragging the cumbersome garment behind him.

"Boss! Wake up!" Ni Hao screamed anxiously. She didn't know what the shadow on Zhou Quan was, but she knew that unless Zhou Quan woke up, no one could stop it.

Li Muchi remained rooted beside Zhou Quan. He had been entrusted with the important task of waking his boss, but he simply watched the shadow rising from Zhou Quan with religious awe, seemingly forgetting his duty.

The shadow struggled, fully detaching itself from Zhou Quan’s body, connected only by a few wisps of lingering mist. It looked toward Father Charles and began to move with a stiff, jerky gait.

"Boss! Wake up!" Ni Hao shrieked like a toy bird gripped by a predator.

The shadow pursued Father Charles. It walked with a halting, stuttering motion, yet each step seemed to cover an impossible distance. The chairs along its path were as if they didn't exist; it walked straight through them.

"Boss!"
"Boss!"
"Boss!"

In a state of delirium, Zhou Quan heard someone calling him. *I...* As the thought of "I" surfaced, memories flooded his mind like a tidal wave. *Evil god! Monster! Father Charles!*

Zhou Quan’s eyes snapped open. He saw the shadow ahead—a silhouette that looked remarkably like him. It was his first time seeing the entity, yet he felt an intense sense of familiarity, as if looking into a mirror. Zhou Quan quickly assessed the situation and his face lit up. *Good! There’s still time!*

At this moment, Father Charles was nearing the back door, and the distance between the shadow and the priest was greater than ten meters.

*Old Covenant Wolf King! Transform!*

In an instant, time seemed to freeze. In Zhou Quan's eyes, the shadow's outline glowed a piercing red.

*Lock on!*
*Teleport!*
*Rend!*

Zhou Quan vanished from his spot and reappeared behind the shadow. His massive claws, the size of door panels, thrust forward, passing through the shadow's body before tearing outward with savage force!

Zhou Quan looked stunned. He felt no resistance; the shadow seemed to not exist at all. The shadow did not turn back. Time acted like a lubricant; within seconds, its movements became fluid. It sprinted, closing the final ten meters that determined Father Charles’s fate.

*Boom!*

Amidst swirling black mist, the noble king crowned in thorns raised his head, and in the next second, his figure vanished.

"No!" Zhou Quan’s eyes were bloodshot with rage.

*Lock on!*
*Teleport!*
*Rend!*

At the final moment before the shadow transformed into the White Wolf King and vanished, Zhou Quan locked onto him, following like a loyal shadow.

Father Charles didn't look back; he focused solely on escaping. *Snap!* His hand gripped the doorknob. *Did I make it?*

Suddenly, he heard a low, apologetic voice from behind him.

"I'm sorry."

Father Charles’s eyes widened. *Ugh!*

Excruciating pain flooded his brain, and his perspective rose rapidly. A pair of massive claws impaled him, lifting him into a world he could only see from a height of three meters, accompanied by a fountain of his own blood.

"Gurgle... gurgle... gurgle..."

Father Charles couldn't speak; blood flowed into his trachea, bubbling up. He watched his own blood splash into one of the icon’s eyes, tracing a path down its flawless, white face like a tear. Suddenly, his eyes widened again, for an even larger pair of claws had pierced his body.

Zhou Quan stood frozen. He was behind the shadow, his claws embedded in the shadow's body, which in turn were embedded in Father Charles. Yet, he still could not feel the shadow’s presence. He could only feel the life-draining reality of Father Charles’s blood flowing over his fingertips.

"Father Charles!"

Zhou Quan was terrified and instinctively withdrew his claws.

"Gurgle... gurgle... gurgle..."

Blood gushed from Father Charles like a spring. His organs were shredded, and the agony was unbearable; his eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible.