Chapter Eighteen: The Evil God Has Intruded

“All right, Uncle Rom, give me two bottles of cultivation potion—the most expensive kind you’ve got.” Striding up to the counter, Xiaoyuan Zhuang waved her fingers playfully in front of her face, a hint of pride in her expression as she addressed Uncle Rom.

“Oh? Feeling generous today, going straight for the priciest stuff. Did you win the lottery or something?” Uncle Rom shot her a sidelong glance, his face betraying a cold aloofness as he retrieved two bottles of blue potion from behind the counter. Compared to the other potions on display, these two had a noticeably deeper color. Anyone could tell at a glance that their quality was a cut above the rest.

“Uncle Rom, I’ll take two as well.” Seeing Xiaoyuan Zhuang purchase the highest-quality cultivation potions, Hui Wen’s face flickered with hesitation before she gritted her teeth and followed suit. She’d originally planned to buy that combat suit she’d been eyeing for ages, but cultivation potions were important too. Most of all, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing to Xiaoyuan—not again, even though she’d been losing ever since they met, except during the graduation exam.

“Very well, that’ll be eight thousand eight hundred yuan. Cash or card?” Uncle Rom had already produced the card reader, glancing at the two girls, who clearly didn’t have room for much cash on them—they must have only brought their cards.

“Card,” they answered in unison.

With two quick swipes, their savings took a sharp plunge.

“The odds of winning the lottery are just too low; I’d never rely on luck for something like that. I just landed a good job recently, that’s all. But you, Hui Wen—you’re already in the reserves for the Divine Gear Warriors, aren’t you? Why are you buying these diluted, second-rate potions on South Street instead of the perfect potions from North Street? Don’t tell me the pay for reserves is that low?”

While brushing off the lottery idea and explaining her own income, Xiaoyuan Zhuang couldn’t help but wonder about Hui Wen’s salary. After all, Divine Gear Warriors were humanity’s most elite force—even reserves earned more than ordinary soldiers on the front lines. Yet here Hui Wen was, scrounging for inferior potions on South Street. It made one wonder where her money was going.

“The pay isn’t bad, but there’s a lot to buy—like, underwear and such. I have to replace it every month—I grow out of it so quickly! You’re lucky, you barely ever need new clothes. And perfect potions cost several times more than these; even with my salary, I can’t keep up for long. Plus, I need to save for the future. If I want to leave here to pursue further training elsewhere, that takes money too.” As Xiaoyuan questioned her, Hui Wen suddenly found an outlet for all her frustrations, letting out a torrent of complaints.

“Oh, you really do have it tough.” Xiaoyuan’s lips twitched as she glanced at Hui Wen’s chest—so it really had grown again, not an illusion. She didn’t envy Hui Wen’s changing figure; in fact, she preferred her own unchanging body. If she had a chest like Hui Wen’s, it would feel strange. Still, she was genuinely surprised to learn that Hui Wen was someone who actually planned for the future. Xiaoyuan herself had never given it any thought. All she wanted was to grow stronger, to become like Feng Xiaoxuan, the daughter of Uncle Feng.

“Ah! Murder!”

“Help!”

“Call the police!”

“Someone’s bleeding! They’re hurt!”

Just as Xiaoyuan and Hui Wen were chatting casually while buying their potions, a sudden commotion erupted outside, the chaos quickly spreading their way. At the sound, both girls fell silent, exchanged a knowing glance, and rushed outside in perfect sync. Though they often bickered and challenged each other, their time as desk mates and joint training partners had forged a solid sense of teamwork when it really mattered.

“What’s going on?” Bursting out of the potion shop, they saw a group of people running toward the far end of South Street, as if something terrifying was chasing them from the entrance. Xiaoyuan grabbed a young man at random.

“Over there! Someone’s killing people—there are already several down!” Perhaps the sight of their military uniforms gave him some sense of security, for the young man quickly regained his composure and pointed toward the entrance.

“Murder?” Xiaoyuan frowned slightly, exchanged a look with Hui Wen, and released the young man. The two of them dashed toward the entrance, and the fleeing crowd, noticing their uniforms, parted instinctively to let them through.

The potion shop was already close to the entrance of South Street, so they arrived at the scene quickly. Several wounded lay on the ground, most with injuries to their legs or abdomens—not fatal, but if things continued, at least half would bleed to death.

As they took in the sight of the injured, they also spotted the assailant: a disheveled man, his face covered in a scruffy beard that made it hard to judge his age. Judging by the patches of exposed skin on his forehead and cheeks, he probably wasn’t that old. He stood hunched at the entrance, gripping a watermelon knife in his right hand, his bloodshot eyes glaring in their direction. A faint, glimmering mark could be seen on his brow, as if some kind of pattern.

“That’s… a Heretic God?!” The moment she saw the attacker, Hui Wen cried out in shock.

“What? Are you sure it’s a Heretic God? How did they manage to sneak in?” Xiaoyuan was equally astonished by Hui Wen’s outburst.

Heretic Gods were similar to guardian spirits, but unlike guardian spirits, who were born alongside humans and protected them, Heretic Gods originated from demons. Their power didn’t enhance demons directly; instead, Heretic Gods would possess ordinary humans, granting them extraordinary strength. Most of the time, there was no visible sign that someone had been possessed—only when the Heretic God took control would its presence be revealed.

Indeed, Heretic Gods possessed humans, feeding on their essence and, in the end, devouring their souls completely to seize their bodies. They would gradually strengthen the host’s physique, granting them superhuman abilities. Unlike mindless, destructive demons, Heretic Gods were the embodiment of cunning. Again and again, they infiltrated human society, creating dimensional rifts to invite demons in, undermining cities from within.

Because of this, humanity had always enforced strict checks on everyone entering or leaving cities. Yet these measures had their limits. Heretic Gods, like demons, were divided into ranks. As their rank increased, so did their intelligence. Ordinary lower- and mid-tier Heretic Gods, even if they managed to infiltrate, couldn’t tolerate human life for long and would soon be exposed. But if there was a higher-ranked Heretic God leading them…