"Ah?" The rugged man suddenly widened his eyes.

He turned his head and glanced at the mist outside the window, then looked at the dense fog seeping through the car window, and hesitantly said, "Uncle Mete, are we really going down?"

But Mete didn’t reply to him. As he spoke, Mete had already pushed open the car door and walked into the dense fog.

And as Mete left the car, the faint light that had been illuminating the car also disappeared.

The intense mist quickly began to cross the car window, rushing towards the interior of the vehicle.

The moment the mist touched him, a strong sense of fatigue surged into the rugged man’s mind.

The rugged man immediately pushed open the car door, "Uncle Mete, wait for me!"

But before he could step out, the only thing meeting him was the dense fog.

At this moment, his body stiffened.

However, before his body stabilized, a faint glow pressed the dense fog aside, and Mete’s face appeared in his field of view.

"Follow me." Mete glanced at him, then turned around and walked into the depths of the fog.

The rugged man quickly followed suit.

The deeper they went, the thicker the surrounding fog became, so dense that beyond the faint glow of the green sprout, the two could hardly see anything, relying only on the walls, memory, and touch to slowly move forward.

"Uncle Mete, what exactly are we looking for?" The rugged man raised his head, looking at Mete in front of him.

"An item from the Church of the Grim Reaper," Mete said calmly, "It’s an Illusion Badge. The President’s message is, finding that item means finding where Boris is sealed, and what happens next is none of our concern."

"Oh, I see." The rugged man took a cautious breath, carefully observing the surrounding fog.

And just then, he noticed that within the fog, there was a shadowy figure lingering nearby, watching them cautiously and carefully.

He swallowed hard, never having seen a woman with such a graceful figure, her silhouette stirred some instinctive imaginations within him.

At this time, the shadowy figure seemed to notice him too, and slowly moved backward, seemingly preparing to distance itself from him, to escape this area.

The rugged man instinctively reached out, aiming to touch the graceful figure in the mist.

"Leave the protection of this light, and you’ll be devoured by this fog instantly." A sudden voice came from the front.

The rugged man jolted with fright, immediately coming to his senses.

He raised his head to look at the fog again, and where was the graceful figure? Only a mass of twisted, inexplicable shadow remained.

The shadow clung tightly to the edge of the light, lurking in the dense fog, seemingly waiting for some opportunity.

The rugged man withdrew his hand, tightly following Mete ahead, once again cautiously surveying the surrounding scene.

The area illuminated by the faint light had unknowingly shrunk completely, to the point where the two had to huddle together to remain bathed in the glow.

They appeared to be moving deeper into the dense fog.

"Uncle Mete, haven’t we found it yet?" The rugged man lowered his head, scanning the ground scene, "How big is that badge? If it’s not large, given our narrow field of view, finding such a small badge seems challenging."

"Hm?!" At this moment, Mete stopped walking.

He lifted his head, observing the narrow area of light enveloping them, slightly frowning.

He suddenly stopped walking, turned to face the rugged man, and asked in a low voice, "How long have we been in here?"

"I didn’t track the time," the rugged man shook his head and glanced at the time on his wristband, "but it should be a while."

"Tell me," Mete raised his head, looking at the surrounding dense fog, "if there were a powerful item capable of sealing an Angel, would the President send his own people, or outsiders to fetch it?"

"Of course, his own people," the rugged man instinctively answered, then suddenly realized something, looking up at Mete, "Uncle Mete, are you here to ’pick’ up that badge?"

"There’s no point in discussing this now," Mete shook his head, gazing at the surrounding fog and the unseeable shadows writhing within, "Do you think, to the President, are we considered his own people?"

"Of course, we are," the rugged man said directly, "Didn’t you just say only those trusted by the President can undertake perilous tasks?"

"Indeed," Mete withdrew his gaze, looking at the rugged man, "But what if the President no longer trusts us?"

"Impossible—" The rugged man instinctively wanted to refute, but suddenly realized something, looked down at Mete, "Are you saying my little sister... but that’s impossible, we haven’t enticed her yet, she knows nothing?"

As they spoke, the shadows in the fog suddenly shuddered and crashed toward the patch of light beside them.

Both of them stepped back simultaneously.

The shadow collided with the light’s barrier, causing a dent, then bounced back.

But the retreating rugged man seemed to kick something underfoot.

He lowered his head, looking at the item he had kicked.

It was a skeleton wrapped in a uniform.

And next to him, Mete also lowered his head, looking at the uniform on the skeleton, "It’s someone from the Secret Service Bureau, the President sent people over here long ago."

As soon as his words fell, the skeleton wrapped in clothing suddenly reached out, grabbing the rugged man’s ankle.

The rugged man fiercely exerted his strength, breaking free from the skeleton.

At the same time, a shadow in the dense fog on the side transformed into a sharp spike, thrusting inward.

The spike pierced the light’s barrier.

Witnessing this scene, the rugged man, after an extremely brief pause, took a step forward, shielding Mete, shouting loudly, "Uncle Mete, hurry up and run, I’ll cover for you."

Previous instances proved Mete wouldn’t easily abandon him, would save him.

Uncle Mete, being a B-level strong man, wouldn’t fear these attacks at all.

Now was the time to show loyalty.

Thunk—

As his words remained unfinished, the black spike completely pierced through the light barrier, impaling his body.

Blood splattered onto the dense fog and was promptly absorbed by it.

And next to him, the initially lit faint glow was visibly dissipating quickly, moving.

The rough man turned his head, only to see Mete without any hesitation, running straight in the direction they came from.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but after the glimmer faded away, he was left without any protection.

The dense fog and shadows, like a tide, covered over, burying his body.

He wanted to speak, but could no longer make a sound, only watching the glimmer in the fog swiftly vanish into the distance.

At this moment, he suddenly realized why Mete brought him here.

It was for this very moment.

To throw him out as bait when danger occurs, buying time for Mete’s own escape.

The rich shadows instantly enveloped his body, feeling his flesh rapidly being devoured and stripped away.

And just then, he suddenly ’saw’ the glimmer in the fog, stopping abruptly, as if encountering an indescribable terror.

Immediately, the glimmer turned back, desperately running towards him.

Soon, Mete’s familiar face faintly reappeared in the rough man’s field of view.

But at this moment, the face bore no trace of previous calmness, only an uncontrollable panic.

Mete seemed to see the shadow-covered rough man, but he said nothing, not stopping, trying to circle around the man and run to the other side.

However, his movement was slightly slow, a giant hand, entirely formed of bones, stretched out from the twisted fog, grabbing Mete.

This powerful B-level fighter, his face still holding an expression of fear, didn’t even have the chance to scream.

The skeletal hand exerted sudden force as it grasped him, instantly crushing his body into a spreading mist of blood.

Shadows in the surrounding fog surged forward, like bloodthirsty piranhas, rushing towards the mist of blood.

And the tender sprouts with glimmers fell from the sky, slowly descending to the ground.

The rugged man gazed at the sprouts on the ground, his remaining consciousness twitching the flesh on his cheeks,

"Heh—heh—"

letting out a dry, hoarse chuckle.

Quickly, the chuckle was wholly drowned by the dense mist, leaving only a desiccated skeleton lying on the ground.

Thump—thump—

At that moment, a clear sound of footsteps rang in the fog, a hand wrapped in flames reached out, picking up the glimmering sprouts on the ground.

Intense flames, like a blade separating water, forced the oppressive mist aside, revealing the flame-wrapped figure wearing a hat.

He Ao raised his head, looking at the fog in front of him, the flaming wild horse standing behind him, its head lowered, the flame reins entangling it.

He Ao, leading the flaming wild horse, slowly walked forward, passing the skeletons on the ground.

Sparks covered these skeletons, then in an instant, like igniting straw, consumed and burnt them into ashes, transforming into scattered smoke and dust.

The surrounding mist grew denser, like tangible sludge, pressing down with suffocating weight.

The Church of the Grim Reaper had set up many spots at Ains; without Mete leading the way, He Ao couldn’t have found the core spot.

Of course, the path by Mete was also paved by the intelligence bureau and Gray Stone Palace.

And amidst this almost solid mist like sludge, distorted shadows hovered, peering.

But they only circled within the fog, unwilling to push deeper into contact with the blazing flames.

At this time, He Ao lifted his gaze, facing the mist sky, calmly and hoarsely stating, "I’ve come this far, you should at least come out and meet me, shouldn’t you."

As his words fell, the dense mist suddenly trembled.

Heavy mist split like being cut by a blade, starting from in front of He Ao, parting to each side.

It was almost a straight crack reaching the sky.

And at the depths of this crack, where the fog was most concentrated, a white-bone assembled throne appeared within He Ao’s view.

Upon this throne, a towering giant skull, as immense as mountains, stood vigilant, lowering its head, gazing at He Ao.

He Ao’s glance swiftly scanned the Skull Throne beneath the giant skull.

The throne was almost identical to the Skull Throne he saw at the Church of the Grim Reaper’s headquarters, but without doors, windows, and without the eye decorations on the door.

Compared to this colossal and terrifying skull giant, He Ao’s originally tall body was as insignificant as an ant.

The skull giant placed his hand on the throne’s armrest, flaming purple glows burned fiercely in his eyes.

He lowered his head, watching He Ao below, like a grand Monarch gazing upon his humble slave.

"Hawke, you’ve finally reached here."

Thunderous voice exploded above the sky, causing the surrounding dense fog to tremble and roll faintly.

He Ao stood before the towering throne, calmly stating: "I should come here, shouldn’t I?"

He gazed at the towering skull giant, "You went to great lengths to send me the Hell Manager’s Talent Sequences, isn’t it just for a day like today, when I’d stand before you."

"You seem to hold grievances towards my gift." The towering Skeleton Monarch still stood there, a booming voice laden with authority devoid of emotion, just like a superior Monarch admonishing his subject.

He Ao calmly took out an Illusion Badge from his pocket, toying with it in his palm: "Dest was merely a substitute, wasn’t it."

He held the badge firmly in hand, continuing calmly, "I do not know why you particularly need me, but evidently, I possess traits beyond those of your other Hell Managers accelerated by you, you need my soul as the core to control those managers stripped of consciousness, thus laying the ritual’s fundamental structure."

He raised his head, gazing at the skull giant, chuckling faintly, "Then you could directly control my soul to manipulate the Angel Tier Illusion Badge."

The skull giant’s flaming eye pupils still calmly watched him, without expression or movement.

At this moment, the void around subtly rippled, a blurry figure emerged from behind He Ao, handing him an Illusion Badge, then slightly stepped back, took a parcel from the flaming horse, and vanished into the dense fog.

An intangible terrifying pressure seeped out from that Illusion Badge, causing a warped tremor in the surrounding mist.

He Ao held the Illusion Badge, raised his gaze to the skull giant, smiling,

"Is this the badge you want?"