They all call me the Outer God

Riya found that the facial features of the man on the ground were gradually disappearing, and then he suddenly stood up and shouted something: "I am the leader! I am the leader!"

Riya was shocked.

"Hahaha, I am the leader! I am the only leader! Praise Wumian!"

"..."

Now his appearance reminded Riya of something not good, so he kicked him down and took the mysterious object from his ear.

This thing can block sound pollution, but Leah didn't know what its price was, so he asked Bodwin directly: "What is the name of this thing, and what is the price?"

"What price can red earplugs have? There is no price. The leader never needs to pay for things, and you don't need it, Faceless.

Now put this thing on your ears, and you can start dancing to death at night! What a happy thing it is!"

"Then why are you okay?"

"I can let others dance for me. I like to watch others dance to death in the middle of the night. It makes me feel like I am the new emperor of Endles."

This person was so happy that he fluttered on the ground, like a fish that had just landed. Leah now seriously suspected that the White Mask group was so crazy because they were influenced by Faceless.

In addition to Faceless, Gaen's induction is also an indispensable part, but now they are dead, and Leah is not interested in rebuilding a White Mask Church.

"When I am interested in forming a church, maybe I can give it a new name... but not now."

The current trade does not need a church, he is free.

He stepped on the other's head: "Tell me, who is the real factory owner of yours!?"

"What factory owner? I am the only factory owner! Ah, I am still the leader - even if you are Wumian, you can't do this to the leader!!!"

"Don't tell? Then are these things enough to make you speak?"

Riya took out a bag of money from his pocket, and then he suddenly tilted the bag downward.

"Clatter, clatter!"

The clear collision of metals sounded so pleasant in the workshop.

These are silver coins, countless silver coins scattered on the ground. When Bodwin heard such a sound, he immediately became energetic.

"Money... money! These are all for me! Hahahahahaha money!"

The man laughed wildly and wanted to take all the silver coins into his arms. Riya put more force on his feet and stepped on the other's skull, making a "crackling" sound.

"You haven't answered my question yet."

"Okay! I say, the real factory owner is in the room next to the chimney.

He has been paralyzed for many years. It makes no difference whether he is here or not. Now give me all these things--"

"Okay."

Riya loosened his feet and watched him pick up all the silver coins on the ground and put them into the purse, then held the purse tightly and kept praising the name of trade.

Riya took the purse away and turned away.

For a while, the workshop was terribly quiet except for the roar of the machinery. Bodwin lost his facial features and kept rubbing the non-existent purse against his face while holding it in the posture of hugging the purse.

The others in the workshop finally realized that they should be in fear now. They wanted to escape, but when they reached the door, Bodwin blocked them there, making them dare not move again.

"Why don't you join me in praising the great Lord of Trade, the true patron saint of commerce and money.

With Him, I have an endless supply of money. Do you see what I have in my hand? These are all gold! All gold!"

He was extremely excited, but everyone present could see clearly that Baldwin had nothing in his hand.

This was something incomprehensible.

Now that everyone had lost Baldwin, the "backbone", they were really starting to get scared.

But Riya didn't care what they thought, as he had successfully found the place Baldwin said.

Just under the chimney with a diameter of tens of meters, there was a short house.

This house was a building for living. It was only one floor high, and red bricks were piled up, but the door was also sealed with red bricks.

Riya stood in front of it and knocked on the "door" a few times to show his friendliness. Then, he took a look at the normal black smoke above and directly demolished the door violently.

It was not difficult to destroy those bricks. Riya quickly made an entrance to get in.

He lit the kerosene lamp and raised it slightly to explore the situation inside.

"This treatment is not like the treatment of a paralyzed person. Even if the former boss is paralyzed, the current people will not lock him up in the house.

In less than a moment, Riya successfully found a bed inside. The bed was covered with dust, but there was no lack of quilts and pillows. Someone was lying face up on it, half covered with quilts, with his hands crossed on his shoulders.

This person was also covered with dust. He looked like an old man who had quit drugs for a long time. Age spots appeared on his head, and there were not many gray hairs left.

"Ahem——"

Riya covered his mouth and nose and coughed twice. Unexpectedly, the next second, the man suddenly opened his eyes and looked at him.

For a moment, the two looked at each other. Unfortunately, Riya had many eyes open on his face. It was impossible to pretend to be normal now.

"How long... have I... slept?"

The old man asked this question with difficulty, rolling his Adam's apple.

"I don't know."

Riya answered honestly. He looked at the swaying flame in the kerosene lamp and asked back: "Why are you locked up here?"

"Because...the factory needs me."

The old man cannot move, but he can communicate with others: "I am sick, very seriously ill, and everyone tells me that I should die, but I am not willing to give up. No one will be willing to die from a disease."

"Then what?"

"Someone told me that I could absorb other people's lives as fuel and let them purify me of diseases. That person placed me here. I remember that I was still very young at that time. Who knew that in the blink of an eye, I would be so old... …”

His eyes were cloudy: "Is it because I have lived for so long, or because I became like this in an instant... I can't figure it out."

"Aren't you bored being locked up here? Or..."

Riya narrowed her eyes: "The black smoke outside has something to do with you, or is it even a derivative of your consciousness?"

He didn't say this conjecture aloud, he just listened to the old man still talking to himself, as if no one had spoken to him for a long time, and he had to tell something to feel better.

"I hate my disease... No one wants to have something like this and have to live under the arrangements of others. Some people ask me to oppress the people at the bottom. The worse they are, the greater the chance of my survival.

Now I don’t know if I have lived for a long time, but every time I wake up, I seem to hear the souls of those people wailing at me. "