Chapter 74
The moment Lu Chuan saw Number 9, it felt like meeting family.
After all, once you’ve been in society long enough, you realize: the people who can help you are usually the ones who’ve already invested heavily in you.
Number 9 had marked him, told him his name—clear signs that he saw Lu Chuan’s limitless potential.
Excellent—good eye.
Lu Chuan fully approved of Number 9’s judgment.
But #888 did not.
When it saw Number 18 eat that god like a snack, the system nearly exploded.
What?
It really sensed the god’s essence being devoured away, bit by bit.
What the hell kind of abomination had the Evil World game’s Main God system created?
How could such creatures exist—beings that could eat gods raw? And worse, they grew stronger by doing so!
The system was supposed to cultivate gods, to select candidates and raise hosts into divinity.
Yet these “Burial Squads” the Main God system had made? They fed on gods.
Oh, its poor host.
To these Burial Squads, wasn’t he basically a banquet-level feast?
#888 desperately wanted to stop Lu Chuan from throwing himself into the tiger’s den.
But Lu Chuan didn’t see himself as a sheep at all.
Instead, he thought it was great that Number 18 had eaten that idiot god—no loose ends to worry about.
After all, if you don’t pull up the weeds by the root, they’ll just grow back in spring!
Lu Chuan felt this was fate between him and Number 9.
Look—they’d met again.
And since they had, it was destiny—he had to squeeze some benefits out of Number 9.
Like that last mark: a bit weak, easily worn down by random gods. This time, he wanted something deeper, stronger.
Number 18, having finished his divine snack, wiped his mouth and glanced curiously at Lu Chuan.
He remembered this player.
He’d investigated him once, together with Senior Number 9.
Number 18’s philosophy was simple: if you doubt whether someone’s a player, just take a bite. If they don’t die, something’s wrong. If they do, well, tough luck for them.
Because of this reckless habit, he rarely completed the missions the Main God assigned, so they paired him with Number 9, who had the highest sanity.
It was one of the oddities of the Burial Squads.
The top-ranked ones usually worked in pairs, while lower-ranked ones acted alone.
The higher their rank, the lower their sanity. Some were so far gone they teetered on the brink of madness, unable even to understand the Main God’s orders.
That’s why these top-ranked Burial Squads—whose destructive power could rival hundreds of High Gods—were always partnered with another. If one went berserk, the other could buy enough time to report to the Main God.
Number 18 found this player, Lu Chuan, rather intriguing.
Since Senior Number 9 took such interest in him, naturally, he paid attention too.
Something felt… off.
He glanced again and realized what.
“You know we’re Burial Squads?”
“Of course I know,” Lu Chuan nodded. “I even know he’s Number 9. What number are you?”
“I’m Number 18,” Number 18 answered reflexively. “But you treat Number 9 as if he were completely normal.”
That was exactly what wasn’t normal.
On past missions, almost every player who saw Number 9 acted strangely, drawn to him. That was tied to Number 9’s powers. Only those near the top of the Master Rankings could converse with him normally.
As for Number 18, most players reacted to him with sheer terror.
This time, the reason Lu Chuan looked so normal to others was, of course, because he was currently in human form. A human-shaped version of himself just couldn’t inspire fear.
Number 18 didn’t realize he was overthinking it.
Even though Lu Chuan looked human, his sharp teeth and wild, almost inhuman aura made him seem more like some kind of apocalyptic demon king or a deranged serial killer.
But for the current Lu Chuan, his hunger for money outweighed everything else. So when he saw Number 9 and Number 18, he wasn’t particularly affected.
“Everyone loves beauty, but right now I’ve got more important things to do.” Lu Chuan spoke sincerely. “Number 9, this is already my fifth dungeon. Starting with the sixth, I’m going to try for the Master Ranking. Encounters with deities will only become more frequent for me in the future, and that mark you left me was actually pretty useful for resisting gods.”
“Of course. That little snack I just ate? It only had a scrap of the [God of Desire]’s authority, yet it dared to take on that name—pathetic.” Number 18 said proudly. “The real [God of Desire] was devoured by my senior long ago. These conceptual gods have tons of subordinate deities, and those sub-deities get further divided, so the authorities are always fragmented.”
“Number 18, enough.” Number 9 shook his head. Those weren’t things Lu Chuan needed to know yet.
“The first mark I gave you was only a fragment of myself, so it wasn’t very strong. Erasing it wouldn’t be too difficult.” Number 9 looked steadily at Lu Chuan. “But if my true self gives you a mark… can you handle the consequences?”
The consequence? I’ll be able to resist more divine corruption—and save more money!
Lu Chuan quickly did the math in his head. Every mark meant more profit.
To grow wealth, there were only two ways: increase income or cut expenses.
He used to be good at both, but ever since his spendthrift side appeared, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
And he couldn’t just give up the [Infinite Divine Pistol]. That weapon consumed sanity to unleash its power, but it was far too useful to abandon. Which meant, sooner or later, he’d likely return to his wasteful state.
If he couldn’t stop himself from spending, then he had to find savings elsewhere.
For example, with Number 9’s mark, he wouldn’t need to burn sanity using the [God of Wealth’s Currency] skill. That alone would save a fortune!
Even if his 80-san self loved splurging, surely he’d still respect wealth enough to cut corners when possible.
So yes—Number 9’s mark was a must-have!
“If I mark you, I can track your presence anytime. Erasing it later would be almost impossible.” Number 9’s golden eyes gleamed brighter than topaz.
“Eh? But you Executors can track players anyway, right? I don’t care. I’m not exactly a man of high morals or dignity—watch all you like. If you enjoy the show, feel free to tip me.” Lu Chuan shrugged, treating it like a massive livestream.
Plenty of people begged to stream their lives. And livestreams made money!
“My mark can block most mid-tier gods and below. But it’ll also draw the gaze of many high-tier gods.” Number 9’s eyes glittered with dangerous light. “The Evil World is fair. Whatever benefits you take from my mark, you’ll pay back in equal danger.”
“My senior’s right. We feed on gods, so they both fear us and crave to devour us in return.” Number 18 bared his sharp fangs. “Plenty of high-tier gods would eat you the same way I just ate that snack.”
“What—you’re saying your mark will attract high-tier gods? That’s amazing!” Lu Chuan slapped his thigh in excitement. “Can you cover me head to toe in marks? And hey, you’re Number 18, right? How about leaving me one too?”
What luck!
If he could walk around drawing high-tier gods everywhere he went, he’d be the happiest kid alive.
In the Five Great Guilds, “high-tier gods” meant wealth. Their intel, relics, artifacts—everything fetched top price at guild auctions.
If Lu Chuan could encounter a few high-tier gods in every dungeon, his path to becoming the God of Wealth would speed up dramatically.
The real headache was when gods stayed hidden, sending cultists and priests to harass you endlessly. Better to go straight for the boss than waste time clearing all the minions.
Lu Chuan couldn’t afford to waste time!
#888 spun in circles, panicking. It wanted to warn him, but didn’t dare—if the Executors noticed, it’d be over.
Ahhh, Host, couldn’t you just pick an easier road?!
Number 9 could sense Lu Chuan’s desires blazing, his gold ingot heating up again. Lu Chuan didn’t hide his ambition at all—wearing it openly, as if it were his life’s mission.
“There can only be one mark. A mark is literally a piece of my power. Different powers repel each other. The only reason mine works as a shield is because of this trait.”
To Lu Chuan, that sounded like consent.
“Great, then let’s do it right now!” He stretched out his hand, expecting Number 9 to just tap his forehead again.
He thought he was ready.
But this time, something was different.
Number 9 stepped forward, standing very close, then lowered his head slowly.
His flawless face up close was overwhelming, far more shocking than from a distance.
Lu Chuan instinctively shut his eyes.
But shutting them only heightened his other senses.
He felt stray strands of hair brush his skin, soft against his cheek. He could almost see those gem-like eyes burning into him.
The Executor barely breathed, yet Lu Chuan still felt a faint warmth between them.
So close—what was he planning?
You couldn’t blame Lu Chuan’s wandering thoughts. Executors were born to stir human desire.
No—this was dangerous. He opened his eyes again.
Up close, Number 9’s beauty was almost ominous, too perfect to be natural.
For a split second, a smile flickered in those golden eyes—then vanished.
Without warning, Number 9 pressed his forehead to Lu Chuan’s.
A surge of immense power flowed into him, forming a golden mark at his brow before sinking beneath his skin.
Lu Chuan felt as though a thread tied to his soul had just been anchored. Yet it wasn’t unpleasant—more like a little tail attached to him.
#888 froze.
Wait—this wasn’t like the old mark at all.
This was a divine contract. In other worlds, Heaven itself would have to witness it. And this Executor… could use it?
Truly terrifying—creatures who devoured gods!
“It’s done.” Number 9 stepped back, his tone flat. “This mark won’t fade. Don’t regret it later.”
As if their intimate contact had been nothing more than a polite greeting.
He wasn’t human, after all. Why would he care about human perceptions?
Lu Chuan consoled himself with that thought.
“Senior, you—” Number 18 began, staring at the mark on Lu Chuan.
“Our mission is complete. Let’s go.” Number 9 cut him off, glancing at his partner. “You can return to your true form now.”
At once, Number 18 shot into the air, wings spreading wide as he transformed.
Darkness fell over Lu Chuan.
So… so huge…
Looking at the vast figure blotting out the sky, Lu Chuan finally grasped just how massive Executors really were.
No wonder even the Resurrection Guild’s president failed to kill one, even with nuclear-level force.
Number 9 stood calmly on Number 18’s back, soaring high above. He glanced down at Lu Chuan briefly, then looked away.
That man’s future… it was worth anticipating.
Even familiar landscapes might still yield new flowers.
[Host, Executors really do eat gods—they’re our natural enemy!] #888 wept silently. [Right now, you’re basically a pre-reserved all-you-can-eat banquet.]
It could already imagine how ecstatic Executors would be if they discovered their “God of Wealth” prey.
And yet, Lu Chuan still thought he’d gotten a bargain.
…But maybe not.
When his host truly became the God of Wealth, even if the Executors wanted to devour him, surely they’d break their teeth trying!
Lu Chuan was really impressive!
Thinking of this, #888 relaxed a little.
“It’s alright, I think they’re actually pretty nice. Whatever I asked for, they gave me.” Lu Chuan rubbed his forehead, still not used to what had just happened.
Tsk, his heartbeat had almost stopped for a moment back there.
These beings called “Burial Squad” really were the natural enemies of gods.
Author’s Note:
Lu Chuan: Natural enemies are thrilling [666][666]
