War Gods May Die, but Great Thieves Never Stop!

And when Chen Yu's gaze turned toward them...

The air in the hall seemed to freeze.

That gaze was as calm as water, devoid of any emotion, merely sweeping slowly across every face.

Wherever his eyes passed...

It felt as though an invisible blade had sliced across their necks, chilling them to the bone and making their hair stand on end.

The War Gods all lowered their heads, not daring to meet Chen Yu's eyes.

Those pairs of eyes that had once been so utterly arrogant.

Now, every one of them was avoiding his gaze.

Not a single person dared to look Chen Yu in the eye.

Because the blood mist was still drifting through the air.

It was Guan Yue's blood—the blood of the deputy temple master, the blood of a level ninety-nine Limit Douluo.

Just seconds ago...

That man in a battle robe patterned with golden lines had still been standing before them, issuing orders.

But now, he had become a cloud of blood mist, not even leaving behind a single intact bone.

Then Chen Yu spoke in a relaxed, casual tone.

"This Speaker has always been magnanimous."

"Speak. Who else wants to live?"

His voice was not loud, and his tone was easy, as though he were asking the most ordinary question.

The weather was nice today. Who wanted to go outside and bask in the sun?

That relaxed, casual tone stood in stark contrast to the stench of blood hanging in the air.

It made everyone present feel a chill that seeped into their very bones.

The War Gods exchanged glances.

Yet no one spoke for a long while.

Some looked at the companions beside them, some secretly signaled with their eyes, and some shook their heads slightly.

Their eyes were filled with fear, hesitation, and a trace of pleading they themselves were unwilling to admit.

Who wanted to live?

Of course, everyone wanted to live.

But who would speak first?

Who would beg for mercy first?

Would the first person to speak be treated as weak-willed and punched to death?

Would those who stayed silent be treated as unyielding and punched to death as well?

They were frozen in place, trapped between advance and retreat like ants being roasted over a fire.

Seeing this, Chen Yu briefly recalled the information Pan Wen had previously given him regarding the War Gods of the War God Temple.

He had only read those files once.

But with his spiritual power, once was enough.

Every person's name, age, martial soul, cultivation, background, how many resources they had siphoned from the Federation over the years, and how many shady deeds they had committed were all clearly imprinted in his mind.

Who was a major corrupt official.

Who was a minor one.

Who had been forced to go along with the corruption.

Who had willingly sided with Shrek.

Who was Chen Xinjie's confidant.

Who was Guan Yue's lackey.

He knew it all perfectly well.

His gaze settled on one of them.

He was a burly middle-aged man with a square face, broad mouth, thick brows, and large eyes. He stood in the second row of the formation, his head lowered as his body trembled faintly.

His name was Nangong Yi. His title was Rising Dragon, and he was the eighth-ranked War God of the War God Temple.

The files stated it clearly.

This man had exploited his position to secretly resell rare metals allocated by the Federation, earning more than one hundred billion Federation Coins.

At the same time, he was one of Guan Yue's confidants and had repeatedly provided cover and convenience for Guan Yue's private affairs.

Chen Yu moved.

His figure flashed.

The next second...

He appeared before Nangong Yi.

He was so fast that no one present could react, so fast that Nangong Yi did not even have time to raise his head.

He threw a punch.

It was exactly the same move he had used to kill Guan Yue.

Simple and unadorned.

His fist struck Nangong Yi's chest. First came the sound of Battle Armor shattering, then the sound of bones breaking, and finally a dull explosion.

Bang—!

Another cloud of blood mist exploded.

Crimson blood mist spread through the formation, splattering across the faces and bodies of the War Gods on both sides.

Nangong Yi did not even let out a scream. He did not even understand what had happened...

Before he had already vanished from this world.

Just like that, another War God...

Without so much as a grunt.

Had become a cloud of blood mist.

In an instant, their psychological defenses completely collapsed.

Those pairs of once-proud eyes were now filled entirely with terror.

Some had legs that went weak, their bodies swaying.

Some turned deathly pale, their lips turning purple.

Some had dilated pupils and ragged breaths.

They finally understood. They finally realized...

Chen Yu was not threatening them.

He truly intended to kill people!

No one hesitated any longer.

Clatter!

No one knew who took the lead, but someone was the first to drop to his knees.

The sound of knees striking the stone floor rang especially clearly through the silent hall.

Then came the second, the third, the fourth...

One after another.

The War Gods of the War God Temple fell to their knees. Some even sprawled flat on the ground, their foreheads pressed against the cold stone slabs as their bodies trembled violently.

"Mercy, Speaker! Mercy!"

"I don't know anything! Chen Xinjie and Guan Yue did it all! I was forced into it!"

"I am willing to hand over all my illegal gains! I am willing to leave the War God Temple! I am willing to serve the Speaker like an ox or horse!"

"Please, please spare me! I have elderly parents above me and children below me..."

Pleas for mercy rose and fell, mixed with sobs, the sound of kowtowing, and chattering teeth.

Those War Gods who had once wielded immense influence throughout the Federation and acted invincible within the War God Temple...

Now knelt on the ground one by one, wagging their tails and begging like dogs.

Yet as Chen Yu listened to their pleas, his gaze remained cold.

He simply stood there, looking down at the War Gods kneeling all over the floor, listening to their pleas with a face as calm as water.

Those voices, those pleas, those tears meant nothing in his eyes.

Every one of these people was a War God of the War God Temple, yet none had thought of striving for the Federation their entire lives, none had thought of serving their country and its people.

Instead, they had all treated the War God Temple as a bridgehead for acquiring Federation resources, as their own private territory, wantonly draining the people's sweat and blood.

Of the funds the Federation allocated to the War God Temple every year, how much had truly been used for the temple's construction and development?

How much had gone into these people's private pockets?

Those rare metals, those heavenly treasures, those Soul Tools...

Those resources should have been used to defend the Federation...

Yet they had taken them to resell and divide among themselves.

They had even...

Used them to curry favor with their own sects and clans.

How could public outrage be calmed if such great thieves were not killed?

How could the world be pacified if they were not killed?

Chen Yu's gaze settled on another person.

He was a gaunt old man kneeling at the very edge of the third row. His hair was gray-white, his face lean and refined, and he wore a dark-red War God battle robe. At this moment, he was sprawled on the ground, his forehead pressed tightly against the stone slabs, his body curled into a ball.

His name was Li Wanjun. His title was Ten Thousand Swords, and he was a level ninety-one Title Douluo.

He was the eighteenth-ranked War God of the War God Temple.

And his hands...

Were likewise stained with the sweat and blood of the Federation's people.

The files showed that during his tenure as a War God of the War God Temple, Li Wanjun had used his status and connections to act as an intermediary in multiple Federation military-industrial projects, demanding bribes and extracting benefits worth more than fifty billion Federation Coins.