# 502
Chapter 502: He Killed Him
Shen Qingzhu was dumbstruck.
Equally dumbstruck was Yiyu, whose throat was being squeezed by the Ninth Seat.
“This is impossible!” Yiyu’s eyes were full of disbelief. “You’re bound by my soul contract—you can’t betray me!”
“Soul contract…” A smile surfaced in the Ninth Seat’s eyes. “That little thing isn’t as reliable as you think. In front of that lord’s divine sense, it’s pathetically fragile.”
“Divine sense?” Yiyu’s brows knitted. “What is that?”
“President’s unique method. Explaining it to you would be pointless.”
“President? You’re not with the Night Watch?”
The Ninth Seat shook his head. “No.”
“Besides my Church of the Ancient Gods, what other society exists in Great Xia?”
“Church of the Ancient Gods? A mere cancer on Great Xia.” The corners of the Ninth Seat’s mouth lifted. “Your vision is too small. Try looking farther—say, beyond Great Xia?”
Yiyu frowned. “I don’t believe any power can survive out there in the fog.”
“Then a cancer can only ever be a cancer.” The Ninth Seat sneered.
“You’ve lurked beside me all this time—what’s your goal?”
“To pop this cancer at the right moment.” The Ninth Seat shook his head regretfully. “Pity the Church of the Ancient Gods only accepts god-agents, so I had to join the Believers and watch your every move.”
“Just a ‘Boundless’ like you?”
“So what if I’m Boundless? My hand’s still around your throat.” The Ninth Seat spoke slowly. “Sometimes patience outweighs raw power.”
“Eleven years… your patience is terrifying.”
“But I never expected you to secretly send Third Seat and First Seat to wipe out Team 008.” The Ninth Seat’s eyes narrowed. “I’d wondered why the Night Watch never reacted, even though I left warning marks for Team 008 again and again…”
Yiyu stared at him for a long while, a chill rising in his gaze.
“He Lin, I admit your identity surprises me… but if you think you’ve already won, you’re being naïve.
“The Medium squad hunted me for ages and couldn’t kill me—why would I die so easily at your hands?”
As the words fell, his figure began to fade like smoke scattered by a breeze, dissolving mid-air.
The Ninth Seat’s pupils contracted.
Almost by reflex he spun, a thick spiral burst of energy exploding from his palm toward the black-tailed-coat figure.
“Don’t forget—this place is the nightmare I created.”
Yiyu stepped forward, instantly turning ethereal. The twin spirals passed through him like air.
In the next instant he was in front of the Ninth Seat.
A white-gloved hand pressed lightly against the Ninth Seat’s chest—like a sledgehammer striking paper, the chest caved in instantly!
Pfft—!
Blood sprayed as the Ninth Seat crashed to the altar’s edge, crimson pooling beneath him.
Yiyu grunted; black blood once more seeped from his seven orifices. His face was deathly pale, steps unsteady.
Channeling so much power again shattered his already cracked psyche; residual sword-qi raged inside, shredding his organs.
“Damn…” Vision blurring, Yiyu staggered toward the gravely wounded Ninth Seat, muttering.
At the altar’s rim the Ninth Seat watched him approach, eyes ice-cold.
Doubt flickered across Yiyu’s face.
He was a guttering lamp; another escape would be nearly impossible. If the Ninth Seat risked everything for a mutual kill, he might succeed…
Then, as if struck by inspiration, Yiyu’s lips curled.
“Looks like I won’t have to dirty my hands…”
He turned. At some point Shen Qingzhu had leapt onto the altar and now stood beside him.
Yiyu raised a trembling finger toward the Ninth Seat and rasped:
“Shen Qingzhu, kill him for me…
“The Believers are basically wiped out, but as long as I live the society can be rebuilt.
“As I told you, a new era is dawning, and you are destined to lead the Believers to glory.
“Kill him and you’ll be First Seat.”
Shen Qingzhu studied him, then nodded.
“Understood.”
He turned his back on Yiyu and walked slowly toward the fallen Ninth Seat.
The Ninth Seat lifted his blood-streaked face, a faint smile appearing.
“Any last words?” Shen Qingzhu asked calmly.
“No.”
“Really none?”
“Mm.”
“If you truly have none, how about I invent one for you?”
“Let’s hear it.”
Shen Qingzhu drew a deep breath and shouted:
“SpongeBob!! Let’s go jellyfishing!!!”
The instant his voice echoed through the underground space, Yiyu behind him froze, pupils quaking, face contorting in violent struggle.
Two souls he’d kept suppressed leapt with unprecedented joy.
In that instant Yiyu’s last shred of sanity collapsed.
He flung his hands high, flushed with excitement, and yelled:
“Okay!! Patrick!! Let’s go jellyfishing!!”
Whoosh—!
Shen Qingzhu spun; all his mental power poured into the black ring in his palm—
—and he hurled it.
A black soul-blade shot from the ring, pierced space, and stabbed straight into Yiyu’s heart.
One blade—soul severed.
Yiyu’s hands stayed raised, ecstatic smile frozen, a grotesque statue.
His eyes dimmed, lifeless.
Shen Qingzhu didn’t relax; he snapped his fingers mid-air.
Snap—!!
Fierce flames erupted beneath Yiyu, engulfing him in seconds. Fire licked at the corpse, crackling in the dead silence.
A safeguard, and a way to keep his spirit from flowing into the altar and completing the final infusion of power.
Crack!!
A crisp shatter rang out; the surrounding nightmare collapsed piece by piece, the dream-space dissolving…
Shen Qingzhu’s grin spread uncontrollably.
Only now could he be certain—
Yiyu was dead…
Killed by him.