Wu Heng solved the problem of holy water losing its effectiveness, and the impact went far beyond the birth of a new weapon.
It was like a shot of adrenaline injected into the loose yet resilient community of demon hunters, fostering an unprecedented sense of unity.
A new section called "Exorcism Library" quietly appeared on the Demon Hunter Guild's platform.
At first, there were only a few scattered entries, but they soon swelled like streams flowing into a great river.
Many demon hunters contributed exorcism knowledge passed down through their families for generations—knowledge that required no reliance on the Church's power.
There were secret formulas supplied by an old demon hunter family from Arkansas, using the juice of specific swamp plants mixed with iron filings to draw warding circles;
Ancient chants recorded by descendants of New Orleans voodoo practitioners, used to soothe vengeful spirits by striking bones and bells in a particular rhythm;
There were even methods from Eastern demon hunter lineages that used cinnabar and special breathing techniques to temporarily strengthen one's yang energy against possession.
These inheritances, once regarded by every family as priceless treasures never to be shared, were handed over free of charge—or rather, in exchange for guild points.
Because they understood that in this age, with the Apocalypse approaching and Heaven having abandoned them, clinging to old ways meant destruction. Only by sharing knowledge could humanity as a whole gain better odds of survival.
"Internet Addiction" faithfully carried out Wu Heng's preset commands, scanning, archiving, and evaluating this vast trove of knowledge, while awarding contributors points far exceeding the value of the items themselves, ensuring no one got the short end of the stick.
It was not limited to demon hunter families. Other gifted individuals hidden among ordinary society—witches, mediums, tribal priests, and so on—were