Exorcist's Self-Cultivation

The Legion of Evil Spirits was an idea Du Wei had conceived earlier.

No one could help him, so he sought help from Evil Spirits.

The way he sought help from Evil Spirits often involved polite and friendly handshakes, in other words, making friends.

Of course...

Most of the Evil Spirits who had become friends with Du Wei had already completely perished.

If those Evil Spirits hadn't been tricked to death, Du Wei might indeed have been able to muster a whole group of Evil Spirits by now.

Oh...

The Envelope and the shadow do not count, as they are already subordinates of Du Wei.

As for Nightmare Freddy, it could only be considered a slave.

...

Du Wei knew he could always trust the shadow.

All the dirty and tiring work could be dumped on the shadow.

He didn't look at how Gascogne had died but instead went up to Boine's Three Stone Coffins and began to examine them closely.

Behind him were the screams of Gascogne.

The shadow was absolutely loyal.

The execution was swift and decisive, perhaps because it had previously killed Gascogne once before, the method the shadow used to kill its master was exactly the same as before.

Gascogne died a gruesome death.

But he didn't suffer too much pain.

The shadow simply used the Evil Spirit Scalpel to peel off the mask that had grown onto his face.

Then it plunged the knife directly into Gascogne's mouth and up into the brain through the upper jaw.

The body convulsed...

Then it was torn into countless pieces...

After finishing these tasks,

The shadow cocked its head, using the tip of the knife to pick up the bloody mask and instantly appeared behind Du Wei.

It seemed as if it was seeking credit for its deed.

Du Wei, however, did not take it but coldly said, "This mask has too many problems, it's of no use to me, and it can't be used to enhance your power either."

"However, I have now planted an undercover in the Vanity Sect who doesn't even know they're undercover."

"When that day comes that he realizes he's a duplicate, he will surely come looking for me."

"At that time, I can make a deal with him and give him the mask."

The difference between Gascogne's duplicate and the original is really just the difference between a real mask and a fake one.

As for what the other party said about the thirteen people being a whole,

Du Wei did not care at all.

If they were truly a whole, the entire Vanity Sect would have known the moment he took action.

"What seems to be a tight connection is actually just a fortress built with pebbles, which collapses with a single push."

"Once you put on the mask, you can't take it off."

"I hope the duplicate will like the new mask I've prepared for him."

To be honest,

Those who call Du Wei a devil aren't wrong at all.

In a sense,

Du Wei is indeed very devilish.

He doesn't just scheme against the Vanity Church in advance but also against the undercover he created himself.

Afterward,

Du Wei instructed the shadow to put away the mask.

He continued to inspect Boine's Three Stone Coffins.

"This thing is related to Solomon's Seventy-Two Pillars Demon Gods and is suspected of having the power to revive people, or perhaps the ability to split."

"I wonder if it could be used on Minette."

"But seeing the outcome for Ryan Hamel, it's probably almost impossible."

As he said this, Du Wei ran his hands over the surface of the stone coffin.

He felt the coldness and said doubtfully, "And Ryan Hamel, he died a bit too easily. Since the beginning, all I've come across is another existence that turned into him."

"Did the real Ryan Hamel really die that simply?"

As he spoke, Du Wei developed a splitting headache.

Because he thought of Ryan.

His most loyal subordinate, who was now suffering at the Dusk Bell Church.

Moreover, according to what Ryan Hamel had said, Ryan was just his Evil Spirit Transformation Ability and not a real person.

Then there is no talk of reincarnation.

…

On the other side.

The distant Switzerland.

In the headquarters of the Dusk Bell Church, inside Ryan's room.

Ryan, wrapped in the blanket he had snatched from James's room, couldn't help but sneeze, "fuck! I actually caught a cold, this... this..."

"It's simply a humiliation of my over twenty-year medical career!"

"I, Baron Ryan, the director of Dusk Bell Psychiatric Hospital, have caught a cold!"

Indeed.

Ryan, who had never been sick before, suddenly caught a cold last night.

Such an event was completely impossible in the past.

At this time.

The door was pushed open, and James came in carrying a kettle of hot water.

His face was filled with impatience.

"Why can't you catch a cold?"

Hearing this.

Ryan turned his head to look, saw James, and snorted coldly, angrily saying, "Why would I, Ryan, so fucking awesome, catch a cold?"

James, with a headache, said, "Right, right, right, you're very awesome."

To be honest.

The person who disliked Ryan the most was James.

But this dislike wasn't hate.

James and Ryan had the longest history of interaction, and although the journey had been incredibly tumultuous, and the mere thought of those unbearable memories could bring tears to one's eyes,

But...

James had a very special feeling towards Ryan.

He was an undercover agent hidden amongst the Dusk Bell.

And he didn't know how long he would have to stay undercover, it could be a few years, perhaps more than a decade, maybe even a lifetime.

As long as Dusk Bell didn't revert to the church, he couldn't return.

In the entirety of Dusk Bell, James was alone.

He was wary of everyone, but he was helpless against Ryan, who was mentally ill.

After all, during that time before, when James was vomiting and had diarrhea, it was Ryan who had been "carefully taking care" of him.

With a clap...

James placed the heated water on the table.

He turned to Ryan and said, "I've boiled some hot water for you; drink it when you get the chance. It will help you get over the cold faster."

Saying so,

James then took out a box of cold medicine from his pocket with his only right hand.

"The medicine is here, remember to take it yourself."

To him, Ryan was just a young man in his twenties, who probably spent more than twenty years as a mental patient, so he felt a sense of pity.

If he ignored the pain Ryan had caused him,

James actually looked at Ryan with the eyes of a senior.

Sometimes he even thought, he had a niece in the church, and if Ryan wasn't mentally ill, perhaps he could arrange a match between the two.

At that moment.

Ryan arrogantly lifted his head and said to James, "Are you teaching me what to do? Medication? What medication? A fart's worth of medication!"

"I, Ryan, have grown so big and never fallen ill."

"A mere cold, worthy of making Baron Ryan cower? Even if I were to die, I wouldn't take medicine!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Ryan couldn't help but sneeze again.

Seeing this, James said helplessly, "You should just take the medicine honestly. You already have problems with your brain; what will you do if a fever worsens it?"

Ryan said furiously, "Is this the way you speak to a noble? I've told you, I've never been ill from a young age, I haven't even been injured."

James asked in return, "Then why did you catch a cold?"

Ryan was stumped, "This... How would I know? It just happened the other day when I heard some idiot say that I was his power. Then I told him to go fuck himself, and after that, I caught a cold."

James troubledly said, "Is there any relationship between those two things?"

Ryan waved his hand dismissively and said, "I don't want to talk to you anymore; I have to call the director in my dream, I need to find out what's going on."

"I've heard before that some people don't get sick for a year, but when they do, it's a terminal illness."

"I need to call the director and have him give me talk therapy."