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The corpse was breathing, as if it had wandered along the edge of the land of death before turning back to the human world.

The black-robed cultists in the room stared blankly at the scene. Some of them had not even realized that the man before them had actually "died" once just moments ago. The transition between life and death had been so brief that one could not tell without watching closely. They only sensed that their dying "comrade's" breathing had somehow suddenly become steady and strong, which left them deeply astonished.

The next second, the man lying on the ground opened his eyes.

He seemed to have spent too long in darkness, to the point that even the room's dim oil lamp felt blinding. He blinked as he adjusted to the light, then slowly rolled his eyes, as though he had only just noticed the three black-robed figures gathered around him.

"Praise the Lord's protection!" A younger cultist finally came to his senses and could not help crying out excitedly. "You made it! I thought you were going to..."

"Wait! Something's wrong! Back off!" The cultist with the deep voice suddenly realized something. He stopped the others with one hand and glared warily at the newly awakened man. Retreating as he spoke in a threatening tone, he said, "His breathing stopped completely just now. I couldn't have been mistaken... Something isn't right!"

Duncan finally adjusted to his surroundings, and the tinnitus-like noise gradually faded from his mind. He saw the figures gathered around him, and his first thought was—Why are these people still here when I opened my eyes? Why am I still in the sewers?

Spirit World Walk was supposed to be random. When he had chosen a target, he had simply picked at random based on instinct. Yet both times he opened his eyes, he had landed among these cultists. What kind of cursed affinity was this?

But then he noticed from the reactions of those around him that something was off. The next second, he noticed the black robe on his body.

Duncan fell silent for two seconds, suddenly understanding.

Last time, he had been a Sacrifice offered up by the cultists. Then he closed his eyes and opened them again, and now he was a "cultist."

He truly had an unusual connection with this bunch.

"...Something isn't right!"

At that moment, a deep, hostile voice abruptly broke through Duncan's muddled thoughts after "waking." He followed the sound and immediately met an icy, vigilant gaze.

The owner of that gaze was staring coldly at him. Beside him, the other two black-robed cultists belatedly realized what was happening and retreated into guarded stances.

Duncan froze for a moment, then suddenly realized—just like last time, he might have possessed a corpse.

He had risen from the dead right in front of these cultists!

Once he understood the situation, the cultists' tense reaction became perfectly reasonable. Duncan's mind raced. He could feel that the lingering numbness and sluggishness in this body had not yet fully faded, making movement extremely inconvenient. It would not be easy to make a move under the watchful eyes of several cultists, so he could only find a way to steady them first—yet as he desperately searched for a way out, fragmented, hazy memories suddenly surfaced in his mind!

Within those fragmented, hazy memories, he suddenly "recalled" many experiences that did not belong to him. He remembered "himself" hiding in the sewers, remembered "himself" offering his family's money to the Emissary of the Sun, remembered "himself" taking part in those dark, mad, bloody, sinful rituals to cure illness, drinking the blood of innocents in exchange for "the Sun's blessing"...

At the end of that chaotic flood of memories, he once again "saw" the scene of the sacrificial ritual. He saw countless people dressed in black robes like his own standing beside a raised platform, while a young Sacrifice was pushed onto it. That young Sacrifice wore a stiff, eerie expression that threw the entire ritual into chaos...

He saw the "Emissary of the Sun" have his heart sacrificed. Everyone around the altar descended into madness. Cultists slaughtered one another, raging flames spilled from the sun totem, furious roars and hollow whispers filled the gathering place, while this body's original owner fled in panic with the last few surviving cultists...

Duncan did not know how long he had stood there in a daze. Perhaps it had only been an instant. The surging unfamiliar memories in his mind gradually calmed once more, and a pitiful, hateful life became a string of pale fragments lying in the depths of his heart as though displayed for him to read—like some kind of "nutrient."

These were the memories of this body's original owner. Though little remained, their source was beyond doubt.

Duncan blinked. This was a change that had not occurred during his last Spirit World Walk.

Last time, he had gained no memories from the corpse he possessed. That Sacrifice's mind had been entirely blank... Why had things changed this time?

Was it because the body he had taken over this time was still "fresh"? Or because the pigeon, Ai, had strengthened the Brass Compass?

Duncan slowly sat up from the ground. Whatever the reason behind this change, now was not the time to stand around in a daze. The tightly wound cultists had clearly realized that something was wrong with his "resurrection."

As Duncan rose, the three cultists immediately took half a step back. Then the black-robed man with the deep voice broke the silence, one hand pressed against his waist. "Don't move yet—tell me, what is your name?"

"...Ron." After recalling for a moment, Duncan naturally gave the name he had just learned from the memories. "Ron Strain."

"His name is Ron." One of the younger black-robed cultists immediately lowered his voice and spoke to the deep-voiced man who had vaguely become the leader of the three.

Yet the black-robed man did not relax in the slightest. He continued to stare fixedly at Duncan before suddenly chanting in strange syllables and tones, "In the name of the Sun, may the Lord's radiance shine upon all. In the name of the Sun, may the Lord's blessing descend!"

Hearing the cultist opposite him suddenly start raving, Duncan was momentarily stunned. Then he felt a burst of heat in his chest. He instinctively reached into his clothes and pulled out the object growing hot beneath them, only to find that it was a golden Sun Amulet—waves of strange heat were emanating from its surface!

The next second, the amulet suddenly burst into fierce flames. The fire seemed filled with malice as it lunged straight for Duncan's heart!

"The Lord's glory is devouring him!" Seeing this, the cultist who had recited the prayer reacted instantly. He drew the short sword at his waist and shouted, "His soul has been replaced! Kill this heretical filth!"

The other two cultists were clearly slower to react, but they quickly caught on as well. These people, who had believed Duncan to be a "comrade" just moments ago, unhesitatingly drew their short swords and daggers, charging at him with murderous intent as they shouted, "Kill him!!"

Duncan gripped the Sun Amulet, which had already begun blazing fiercely, and watched three figures pounce toward him. The next second, another shadow suddenly appeared at the edge of his vision!

A ghostly undead bird, its entire body wreathed in Eerie Green Flame, tore through the air and swept across the ceiling on a frigid current of fire. It let out a strange, piercing shriek, scattering invisible ashes and feather fragments with every beat of its wings.

The three cultists were naturally drawn to this "undead bird." They instinctively looked up at Ai, who had transformed into Spirit Form.

The next moment, all their movements slowed, as though their connection to the Real World had suddenly become distant and sluggish. The three black-robed figures left overlapping afterimages in midair like a frame-by-frame animation stuttering along. They descended with comically slow movements before finally freezing completely less than two meters in front of Duncan.

Their eyes were filled with immense terror as they watched the undead bird circle the ceiling once before landing on the shoulder of their black-robed "comrade." They saw that the Sun Amulet in the man's hand was still burning fiercely, but in the next instant, those flames turned a dim green, taking on the same form as the blaze covering the undead bird.

Duncan squeezed the Sun Amulet in his hand. Threads of green Spirit Body Fire curled around its surface. The stream of flame pouring from the amulet circled halfway around him before settling down obediently like a pet, slowly coiling around his arm as if trying to please him.

Holding the Sun Amulet, now completely occupied and transformed, he unhurriedly approached the three cultists. Looking into their horrified eyes, he could not help speaking with regret in his voice. "It would have been so much better if you had pretended not to know anything."

The next second, the three cultists' figures flickered violently several times in midair before vanishing.

The skeletal undead bird, wreathed in Green Fire, hopped twice on Duncan's shoulder. Amid the crackling of burning flames, it let out a sharp, hoarse cry: "Oh dear, the page is gone. Want to try refreshing it?"