1080 The Line of Thinking for Acting (2/2)

There must be some... Sigh, if Amon were to act as a Bizarro Sorcerer, ”He” would probably be able to digest the potion in less than a month. ”His” talent in this aspect is astounding, and ”He” doesn't consider the consequences... In truth, while looking for pirates to ”film the horror movie,” I can find an opportunity to scare other demigods. I don't have to fight them to the death. Once my goal is accomplished, I can escape... With this thought in mind, Klein came up with a plan for the supporting role.

Hence, he carefully considered his targets.

There's no way I can find an angel or higher. Those who I'm not familiar with will make me the leading character of a horror movie on the spot. Those who are familiar with me are well aware that I'm a Bizarro Sorcerer, so there's no way to scare them...

There are many saints that I have no idea about their whereabouts. Frightening the archbishops will easily cause unnecessary chain reactions, causing the world situation to become even more tense and for the war to erupt premature^”

Uh, after eliminating all the possibilities, the most suitable target is the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death faction's demigod, Patrick Biyan, as well as the councilors of Will Auceptin’s Fate Council, as weH ^

After creating a name list, Klein decided to take some time over the next two days to visit Dr. Aaron Ceres. He wanted to bring some ice-cream for a certain baby to ask where the ”councilors” were recently seen.

If he wanted to frighten someone else's subordinates, he had to get the approval of the president!

Klein was in a good mood after organizing his thoughts. He went out again and went to Saint Samuel Cathedral to pray and donate before heading to the Loen Charity Bursary Foundation where he stayed till noon.

In the afternoon, he saw a few businessmen and professional lawyers and accountants who were seeking investments, behaving like a normal tycoon.

After filling his stomach, he returned to the half-opened room with the balcony. Just as he was considering whether to visit Dr. Aaron Ceres's house directly tomorrow, or invite their family to have a nice dinner at the Srenzo Restaurant which served excellent ice-cream, his spiritual perception was triggered.

He turned his head and, without any surprise, saw Miss Messenger walk out of the void with four blonde, red-eyed heads.

One of the heads bit on a letter.

”Who sent it?” Klein habitually and expectantly asked.

As he had yet to receive the letter, Reinette Tinekerr could only answer with three heads.

”King...” ”Of...” ”Idiots...”

Patrick Bryan? This nickname has even evolved? Klein reached out and took the letter. When he opened it, he realized that it was indeed from the Artificial Death faction's demigod.

He wrote on the letter:

”...I've already prepared the special ritual that will help my teacher, Haiter, recover further. Your Excellency, I will hold it tomorrow at midnight given your permission...”

The ritual that points towards the angel, Haiter? There's no way to avoid the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death faction's testing of Patrick... This can be interfered with using Paper Angel... Just in time... With a flick of his wrist, Klein burned the letter.

Following that, he took out a piece of paper and wrote down an answer:

Yes, you may. You must be careful.”

In the quiet night, near midnight, in a uninhabited clothes factory in St. George Borough.

There was an open area that had been cleared. Nearly ten black-robed figures were standing there.

In the middle of them was a deep black coffin that looked rather heavy. Around the coffin were many golden ornaments with mud stains. There were many candles flickering with pale-white flames, as well as one skull after another.

The hideous white skulls belonged to humans, others from animals. Some were extremely strange and had a deformed look to it. It was hard to imagine their original appearance.

The skulls were piled the highest up at the front, with Patrick Bryan standing there.

He had also changed into a black robe, but he didn't pull up his hood, revealing a deep outline. He had black hair, brown eyes, and a rather long face.

This demigod hadn't done anything, but his surroundings had turned extremely cold, as though countless invisible creatures were celebrating.

As Patrick Bryan raised his right hand, the hooded believers jumped up and twitched a little. It was a crazy and rhythmic dance.

This was a Spirit Dance, a ritual that Death loved. The stronger the spirituality of the dancers, the better the effects.

As the dance became more intense, a cold and formless wind blew out from the coffin. Patrick Bryan lowered his head and recited in a language that seemed to come from the Underworld:

”The King from the depths of Hell;

”An Angel playing the music of death;

The Ruler above River Styx.”