The night was very deep.
Jones Howard was jolted awake in bed; the young woman beside him was still fast asleep.
Unlike the sleeping young girl beside him, Jones, who was nearly sixty years old and a high-ranking official in the Gotham Department of Justice, was covered in sweat, as if he had been pulled out of the water.
At this moment, having just woken up, the dream still lingered in his mind, and he involuntarily murmured a name:
" The God who governs the Mind Stone and desires of endless time and space! The Heavenly Venerable of Ten Thousand Desires!!"
As a follower of Barbatos, the god of darkness, Jones's faith, while not devout, would never utter the titles of other God without reason.
After all, as a follower of a dark God, believing in Him doesn't guarantee attention or reward, but betrayal can easily lead to retribution.
Besides, he had never even met this so-called Heavenly Venerable of Ten Thousand Desires, so why would such God come looking for him on his own initiative?
To be honest, if Barbatos weren't the God sworn to by the Court of Owls, Jones, as a modernly educated person, wouldn't believe in the existence of any God.
The Howard Family joined the Owl Rules because they had been part of Gotham, and it was their turn to carry on the tradition.
Otherwise, in Gotham's small territory, if they weren't of the same kind, the Howard Family would quickly be divided up by other families.
In his view, the strange items the society possessed, such as the Dionesium and Electrum, were accidental products of a time before advanced technology, and were used to manipulate people's minds.
God and spirits simply cannot exist.
"If God truly existed, generations of believers wouldn't have been unable to bring down the Wayne Enterprises, let alone bestow blessings; these are all ancient relics."
Jones shook his head, feeling like he was still half asleep.
Even in the Court of Owls, most people are united more because of their collusion over power, wealth, and other resources to maintain their superior status than because of any belief.
"If God really exist, forget everything else, at least make me twenty years younger so I don't have to take medicine all the time, okay?"
Jones glanced at the retreating figure of the young woman beside him, muttered a helpless complaint, and then lay down on the bed to continue resting.
But this time, just as I lay down, a voice rang in my mind.
"Were those your conditions? Just drink the potion under your pillow, and your wish will come true, my believer."
"Who! Who's speaking?"
Jones reached under the pillow for the pistol, but instead touched a smooth cylinder.
Without thinking twice, Jones grabbed it.
It was a pressure injector, about 15 centimeters long, with a pale blue liquid still swirling inside.
Wait, how did my gun turn into this?
Jones, unwilling to give up, pulled back the pillow and found the gun was gone. Turning his head, he saw it sitting perfectly on the bedside table.
Grabbing a gun in one hand and an unknown syringe in the other, Jones hurriedly released the safety and then quickly scanned the entire bedroom.
Nobody was playing a prank on me!
"Rest assured, the God will not deceive you. You only need to drink my blessing, and you will naturally obtain the wish you just prayed for."
The voice in his mind rang out again, and this time Jones had no choice but to believe that he had encountered a supernatural event.
"Who are you? What kind of scientific equipment have hacked into me? Do you need money?"
Jones was still somewhat unwilling to give up, pacing around the room with his gun, not missing a single corner.
Even after thoroughly checking the 70-square-meter bedroom, waking the girl on the bed, he still found nothing.
What about you? Did you hear that?
Jones, looking menacing, pointed his gun at the girl, who shook her head repeatedly in fear.
"No... no, I didn't hear anything. What's wrong?"
She only slept with this perverted old man because of his money and status; she never expected him to go crazy in the middle of the night.
"I'm looking for you; ordinary people aren't qualified to become my followers."
The voice continued to echo in his mind, and Jones opened his eyes wide again, trying to find the source of the sound.
Undeterred, he leaned closer to the woman again and asked, "Did you really not hear anything?"
"No! I've discovered it, Mr. Jones!!" The girl's fear didn't seem feigned, and she truly couldn't hear any other sounds.
What frightened him was the old man, who was over fifty years old and went crazy in the middle of the night; his obese body looked like a fat pig walking upright in the night.
"It seems you still don't trust me. Then try it with your female companion. My blessing can grant you unimaginable power, but remember not to use it all on her."
The voice in my head carried a hint of mockery.
Jones looked at the pale blue potion in his hand, a hint of hesitation on his face.
However, he quickly made a decision: there was no harm in giving it a try.
Even if there's something wrong with the medicine, he has a gun and bodyguards in the house; he can escape at any moment if things go wrong.
Jones opened the pressure injector, revealing a sharp pillow at the tip, and threw it to the shivering girl on the bed.
"Pick it up, give me a shot, just a tiny bit."
"What's this?"
"Don't ask so many questions, just a little bit is enough. I'll give you more money after it's done, if you don't want to..."
Jones had already pointed his gun at the girl, his threat obvious.
For someone of his status, his words are not to be refused, and even if something Jurchen, he could easily resolve it.
Eager to ascertain the authenticity of the mysterious voice in his mind, Jones felt it would be better to verify it using the lives of others.
Faced with the gun pointed at her, the girl, though somewhat worried about what contraband might be in the syringe, still picked it up tremblingly.
The man in front of her was someone she couldn't fight back against; if she didn't stab him, he really would shoot her.
With gritted teeth and closed eyes, he aimed the syringe at his arm and inserted it. Then, the pale blue liquid began to be injected into his body under pressure.
After injecting less than a third of the needle, the girl pulled it out, and then all that could be seen was that the veins in her arm had turned the same pale blue.
Before Jones could even ask how it went, the girl couldn't help but groan.
The pale blue liquid flowed along the girl's veins, clearly visible against her snow-white skin. The girl looked completely blissful, showing no sign of discomfort.
To the naked eye, the girl's exposed skin became more radiant, and she exuded a vibrant energy.