Samaritan's Embrace.
Underground in a church, the warm yellow lights on the hall's ceiling were somewhat dazzling.
A cross hung in the very center of the church. Several priests who had just finished a baptism sat at a long table, holding wineglasses and wearing robes bearing the church's emblem.
"Have last night's models arrived?"
A balding man leaned back in his chair, his face gleaming as he smiled. "That blonde with the big waves last time was nice. Make sure she stays."
The person beside him waved a hand.
"Don't rush. Mr. Ezekiel is coming tonight too. Let's wait until he's gone onstage and finished his prayer."
"Prayer?"
Someone chuckled and swirled his wineglass. "Who here actually believes that stuff?"
At that, several people laughed, and the church filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
The next second, a burst of powerful music and the sound of cracking concrete suddenly came from overhead.
The men all looked up.
The ceiling split open. An entire concrete slab collapsed, rebar and all, and dust and rubble crashed down. The long table was crushed in two on the spot, sending wineglasses and documents flying everywhere.
Through the dust, a figure dropped straight down from above.
(Please play First Time yourself.)
A ring of cracks burst across the floor tiles.
Chen Mo walked out with his arms folded, casually tossing the speaker on his shoulder aside. He glanced down at a wine bottle still rolling by his feet.
"You guys really save on staffing here." He looked up at the group with a smile. "Not even a greeter. One-star review."
The priests froze. One of the quicker-witted ones darted his eyes around, then turned and ran for the emergency exit nearby.
But he had barely taken a step when a black-and-red tendril coiled around his ankle.
"Don't be in such a hurry to leave."
Chen Mo raised a hand, and Blacklight tendrils burst forth. Dozens of them shot out like living snakes, dragging all the priests back.
There were several wet pops.
The tendrils pierced their shoulders and abdomens, stringing them up in midair.
"Can someone tell me," Chen Mo said, looking up at them quite seriously, "whether any of you have ever done a good deed?"
No one could answer that question.
After all, they were still screaming.
In the corner, a janitor holding a mop went weak at the knees and slid down against the wall. A wet patch quickly spread down his trouser leg.
Chen Mo turned and glanced at him.
The janitor's face went pale, and his lips trembled nonstop.
"Sir, I... I just clean the place."
"I can see that." Chen Mo wrinkled his nose in disgust and waved a hand. "You, yeah, you. Why risk your life for a few hundred bucks a month? Get lost and go home."
The janitor froze.
"Huh?"
"What do you mean, huh? Are you waiting for me to reimburse your cab fare?"
Chen Mo pointed at the exit. "Run fast and don't look back. If you insist on working overtime, I won't stop you."
The janitor finally came to his senses and scrambled into the passage beside him, taking off like Bolt.
Chen Mo watched him go, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"He's got a real talent for starting, huh? Talk about burning through his adrenaline."
The janitor's footsteps soon faded away, leaving only the priests hanging in midair from the tendrils.
Chen Mo walked slowly to the center of the hall and looked around.
This place was even more disgusting than the reports had suggested. If he killed everyone he saw, he might kill an innocent person; if he killed every other person, he would definitely miss some who deserved it.
"Demon!"
A trembling voice came from the side. It belonged to a priest hanging in midair. He looked kind and benevolent, devout and faithful.
If Chen Mo hadn't seen Mia's father's memories, he might actually have thought the man looked like a respectable clergyman.
Unfortunately, he had.
"Oh, an old acquaintance."
Chen Mo walked over, seized the priest by the hair, and pulled him off the tendrils.
The priest's face twisted with pain.
"Demon, no, no, sir, is there some misunderstanding between us? I... I'm willing to repent, and I'll compensate you."
"Compensate me?"
Chen Mo looked as though he'd heard something funny. "What are you going to give me? A life, or a family you destroyed?"
The priest's expression changed instantly. He opened his mouth, still trying to defend himself.
Chen Mo gave him no chance. He grabbed him by the hair and dragged him straight to the cross in the hall.
"Don't you people love hanging others up here?" Chen Mo raised a hand and pressed down. Several bone spikes pierced the priest's robes, nailing him to the wooden cross. "Today it's your turn to experience it."
The priest screamed.
Chen Mo raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
A wisp of flame sprang from his fingertip and landed on the wooden base beneath the cross, quickly spreading along its edge.
The fire wasn't big.
It was just enough to roast a person.
The priest trembled all over in pain, praying nonstop, his voice nearly breaking.
"The Lord will forgive me, the Lord will forgive me."
Chen Mo stood beside him and watched for a while, looking quite sincere.
"Don't worry."
The priest raised his head, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Chen Mo grinned. "May the Lord bless you medium well."
The priest's expression froze.
"Don't look at me like that." Chen Mo added a little more fire, his tone casual. "Isn't this an old church tradition? We've come full circle. Pretty sacred."
The men behind him went pale with fear.
One of them finally broke down.
"Where's security! Why aren't they here yet! Help!"
Someone suddenly rushed out from behind the curtain on the right side of the hall.
It was a middle-aged man with sparse hair and a large forehead, his face full of terror.
He had only run two steps when his arm suddenly stretched out, whipping toward the entrance to the passage like a rubber cord.
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, Luffy's here."
Ezekiel's face was deathly pale. His other hand stretched out too, trying to grab the distant doorframe and pull himself over.
But before he could reach it, an invisible force pressed down on him.
His two arms and two legs were lifted by invisible hands and twisted together in midair.
Ezekiel screamed on the spot.
"Don't, don't do this. Whatever it is, we can talk! Please don't do this."
Chen Mo walked over slowly, reached out, and seized him by the throat, lifting him up in front of himself.
Ezekiel's limbs had been tied into an ugly bow by telekinesis, and his whole body had gone limp as a puddle of mud.
"Weren't you quite the talker on TV?"
Chen Mo looked at him. "Family, purity, faith, sacred mission. Go on, keep talking. I'm listening."
Ezekiel's lips trembled.
"If... if you don't like it, I can leave this line of work. I... I can also give you a lot of money, all my money!"
"See? Not so sacred anymore."
"I also know Vought's secrets. I know a lot, really a lot." Ezekiel was so anxious he was nearly in tears. "I can tell you about the Compound V distribution channels, and the list of hospitals and children's testing sites. I know them all."
Chen Mo stared at him for two seconds.
Just as a little hope rose in Ezekiel's eyes,
Chen Mo shook his head.
"I already know pretty much everything you know."
Ezekiel's expression fell instantly.
"But that's all right." Chen Mo patted his face, his tone gentle. "You have other value."
"Wh-what value?"
"Entertainment value. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy the process of killing you."
Ezekiel: ...
Just then, the doors to the underground church were gently pushed open from outside.
Several figures crept in, crouching low.
The man in front wore a black trench coat, with heavy stubble on his face. He held a gun, and his gaze was fierce.
Behind him came Mother's Milk, Frenchie, and an Asian woman, Kimiko.
The group peeked through the doorway.
Debris covered the floor, and the ceiling had collapsed.
High-ranking church members were strung up in midair on strange tendrils.
Another priest was nailed to the cross nearby, being roasted.
Chen Mo held Ezekiel up by the throat with one hand.
For a moment, the scene fell silent.
Mother's Milk's mouth slowly fell open, his face saying, Did I walk onto the wrong set?
Frenchie held his gun up, its barrel wavering as he nearly lost his grip.
Kimiko stared at Chen Mo, lowering her body slightly like a cat ready to pounce at any moment.
Butcher didn't retreat. He looked at Chen Mo, then at the mass of black-and-red tendrils, and the corner of his mouth slowly twitched.
"All right," Butcher said quietly. "Looks like someone got here before us."
Chen Mo turned his head and glanced at them.
He recognized them.
The Boys.
According to the original plot, these people should have come looking for Ezekiel to interrogate him about where Compound V was going.
But now that Vought had already been packed up and stuffed into his brain, Ezekiel's little bit of information and inventory were worthless.
"Who are you guys?"
Chen Mo asked despite knowing the answer. With a flick of his finger, the flames beneath the cross grew a little larger. "Here for a church service?"
Mother's Milk looked at the priest, who was still screaming, and his face twitched.
"You call this a service?"
"A private, premium, custom-made version."
Frenchie swallowed and lowered his voice. "Butcher, I think we should back out first and reconsider whether we want to come in."
"Shut up, Frenchie."
Butcher slowly lowered his gun a little, but didn't put it away completely.
He took two steps forward, keeping his eyes on Chen Mo.
"You're that Blood Angel?"
Chen Mo didn't answer.
He glanced down at Ezekiel and saw that the man was so frightened he was nearly unconscious, so he gave a gentle tug with his telekinesis, tightening his limbs a little more.
Ezekiel woke up at once.
"Good." Chen Mo nodded. "Don't sleep. There's more to come."
Butcher watched, his expression somewhat subtle.
"Listen, mate," Butcher said slowly. "We're not with Vought. In fact, my biggest interest in life is putting those spandex-wearing bastards in the ground, one by one."
Chen Mo finally glanced at him.
"And?"
"And maybe we can talk." Butcher held his hands out in front of him. "You hate Vought, and we hate Vought. Common enemy, you get it?"
Chen Mo blinked.
"I get it."
Butcher's eyes brightened slightly.
The next second, Chen Mo looked down and continued roasting the priest.
"But you're too weak."
Butcher's expression froze.
Mother's Milk couldn't help frowning. "Hey, man, you don't even know what we can do."
"I do."
Chen Mo's tone was casual. "You're just four NPCs."