Doomsday Church

"Really?"

Translucent was overjoyed when he heard that. "BOSS, I’ll definitely complete your mission. Then I’ll finally know just how handsome I am."

"What you just said was both disgusting and tragic."

Psylocke couldn’t help mocking him. Wang Bert waved his hand, signaling for Translucent to get moving.

Translucent nodded, opened the door, and left the office. Psylocke looked at the door that had "opened itself" and said, "It’s like watching a horror movie."

"Invisibility is a good ability, but passive invisibility isn’t."

Psylocke nodded in deep agreement. Then she remembered something and said to Wang Bert, "BOSS, a few days ago, the White Queen from the Hellfire Club approached me. She wanted to recruit me into Hellfire."

"The Hellfire Club? That gathering place for mutant elites?"

Wang Bert frowned. He had heard of the Hellfire Club, but he didn’t know much about it—in the movies, Magneto and Professor X had joined forces to destroy the club long ago.

"Yes. The Hellfire Club only accepts elite-level mutants. Not only are they powerful themselves, they also possess terrifying influence and wealth."

Psylocke sneered. "They have it better than any other mutants, but their reputation among mutants is terrible because they only care about themselves, not other mutants."

"That’s why mutants only have two leaders: Magneto and Professor X."

"There are three," Psylocke said. "There’s also someone named Bert Wang, nicknamed Iron Man."

Wang Bert shook his head. "I’m still far from that."

"Not at all. Your Universe Recycling Company has already saved tens of thousands of mutants. You are the true Mutant Savior."

Psylocke spoke with admiration. Wang Bert smiled. "It’s not enough. I want to open Universe Recycling Companies all over the world. Forget that—Psylocke, what terms did the White Queen offer you?"

Psylocke smiled. "The terms she offered were about the same as the pie you sold me back then."

"I didn’t sell you a pie. Everything I said is gradually coming true."

"That’s right, it’s gradually coming true. That’s why I turned her down."

Psylocke asked, "BOSS, you don’t seem worried at all that I might jump ship?"

Wang Bert smiled. "With your strength, if you wanted to join the Hellfire Club, you could have done so long ago. You wouldn’t have needed to wait until now."

"Of course."

Psylocke said proudly, "They invited me a long time ago, but I refused because they’re far too selfish. The way they look at low-level mutants is exactly the same way ordinary people look at mutants.

To put it simply, they see themselves as gods."

"Disgusting."

Wang Bert looked repulsed. Whether in the Marvel World or the mutant world, he hated those who acted high and mighty.

"It really is disgusting."

Psylocke nodded in agreement and reminded him, "But their strength is extraordinary. BOSS, I estimate they’ll come looking for you soon. When that happens, try not to clash with them."

Wang Bert fit the Hellfire Club’s standards perfectly. The Black King and White Queen would definitely come to recruit him.

Wang Bert said calmly, "Psylocke, on this planet, no one is worth fearing."

If anyone else had said that, Psylocke would have scoffed. But when Wang Bert said it, she nodded. With Wang Bert’s Money Power, there truly was no one on this planet worth fearing.

Wang Bert stopped discussing the matter. He took out a stack of documents and handed them to Psylocke. "This is the new Super Hero the company is launching. Help guide him."

"The one you mentioned last time, the one who can greatly improve the image of mutants?"

Psylocke flipped through the documents and skimmed them, then was greatly shocked. "Angel!"

"Yes, Angel Warren."

Wang Bert nodded. "Help him as much as you can. If he fails, he’ll have to go back and inherit a fortune of tens of billions, spending every day figuring out how to spend money and living an empty life. It’ll be absolutely miserable."

Psylocke was speechless. She mocked, "If that’s such a miserable life, please give me a dozen."

What happened with Senator Cabo and Firebird left most Americans filled with worry and fear, but some people were exceptionally excited and thrilled.

These people were called Doomsday Cultists—they worshiped the God of Destruction and hoped for the world to be destroyed. In their eyes, that Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator was the god they worshiped. In other words, their god had descended.

Don’t find it strange. This world was full of weirdos, and America had especially many of them.

At this moment, these Doomsday Cultists were holding a special ritual. A man, a woman, and a boy were tied to pillars, while a group of black-robed people around them stared at them with fanatical eyes.

The leader of the Doomsday Church, a man whose face was covered in tattoos, said to the bearded man tied to a pillar, "Don’t be afraid. You’re very lucky. You’re about to become God’s messenger."

The bearded man, whose mouth had been gagged, could only make muffled cries. He was merely an ordinary repairman and had no desire to become any god’s messenger, especially since these people obviously weren’t good people.

"Next, I’ll kill your wife and son in the cruelest way possible. All you need to do is hate me with everything you have."

The Tattooed Cult Leader continued, "As long as your hatred reaches its peak, our god will descend and use your body to destroy the world."

All the cultists shouted excitedly, "My God is about to descend!"

The bearded man’s expression changed drastically as he kept crying out through his gag. The Tattooed Cult Leader smiled. "Stop shouting. It’s useless no matter how much you shout. This is your fate. Now, hate me with all your strength."

After saying that, the Tattooed Cult Leader and the cultists began killing the bearded man’s wife and son. The bearded man struggled with all his might, trying to break free and save them, but it was useless. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as his wife and son died miserably.

In the end, the bearded man slumped weakly against the pillar, his eyes filled with tears of blood. His heart was filled with endless resentment. He hated the Doomsday Church, hated his own helplessness, and hated Iron Man—if not for him, the Doomsday Church would never have learned so much.

I want power. I want to destroy this world.

The bearded man screamed madly in his heart. At that moment, a voice filled with resentment sounded in his mind. "What are you willing to give?"

"Everything."

The bearded man knew the Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator had arrived. He immediately shouted, "As long as you give me the power to take revenge, I can give everything, including my soul."

"As you wish."

Along with that voice, countless streams of Black Qi invisible to ordinary people poured into the bearded man’s body. He roared as the muscles all over his body swelled wildly. The ropes he had been unable to break no matter how hard he struggled instantly shattered, scattering pieces of rope everywhere.

Then, the bearded man continued swelling. In a short time, he became a giant over three meters tall, his entire body covered in muscles as hard as steel, a terrifying sight to behold.

Rather than being frightened, the Doomsday Church members were delighted. All the cultists knelt and shouted fanatically, "Welcome the descent of My God!"

"Huh?"

The Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator was a little bewildered. What kind of move was this? Someone actually worshiped him and had even actively helped him descend? Please, he was here to destroy the world! "Humanity truly deserves to die."

The Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator controlled the bearded man as he spoke. The Tattooed Cult Leader shouted, "That’s right, humanity truly deserves to die. We are willing to help My God destroy the world and wipe out humanity."

The cultists shouted one after another, "Destroy the world and attain ultimate transcendence!"

"Interesting, interesting."

The Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator laughed loudly. Countless streams of Black Qi poured from the void into the bodies of the Tattooed Cult Leader and the cultists. Of them all, the leader received the most Black Qi, nearly half the total amount.

After absorbing such a large amount of Black Qi, the Tattooed Cult Leader couldn’t help throwing back his head and roaring. Then, one evil eye after another appeared on his body, making him look exceptionally bizarre.

The other cultists did not change as dramatically. They merely became stronger and taller, while Devil Marks appeared on their faces. This meant they had become Hell creatures.

"From now on, you are my messenger, Greed."

The Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator, still controlling the bearded man, said coldly, "The more people you kill, the greater the reward I give you. If you can destroy a city, I will grant you immortality. If you can destroy the world, I will take you with me into transcendence."

"Transcendence, transcendence…"

The Tattooed Cult Leader—no, Greed—led the cultists in shouting loudly. The Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator was quite satisfied and withdrew his consciousness from the bearded man. At the same time, he left behind one final sentence. "You are Wrath. You may do whatever you wish. I will not stop you."

"Thank you, Master."

The bearded man, Wrath, thanked him respectfully. Then he said to Greed, who had risen to his feet, "Congratulations on getting what you wanted. Unfortunately, you’ll die soon—crushed to death by me."

Wrath’s wife and son had died at Greed’s hands. He had to avenge this blood feud, or what would be the point of becoming a demon? "Don’t be so hasty, Wrath. We are both God’s messengers. We should work together."

Greed smiled faintly, plucked two eyes from his body, and tossed them onto the corpses of Wrath’s wife and son. With a flash of Black Light, the two mangled corpses immediately began restoring themselves.

Soon, Wrath’s wife and son stood up with vacant eyes. Each of their foreheads bore an eye—Greed’s eye.

Rather than being happy, Wrath became even more furious. "Do you think two walking corpses can quell my rage?"

"They are indeed walking corpses now, but as long as they devour the souls of ten thousand people, they can truly be resurrected."

Greed said, "Wrath, I told you that you are very lucky today. Not only have you lost nothing, you have become God’s messenger just like me."

Wrath gritted his teeth. "Should I thank you for that?"

"Of course you should thank me. I’ve given you immortality and the hope of transcendence. Do you want to remain as mediocre as you were before?"

Greed said as if it were only natural, "Wrath, we are no longer mortals. We will become the gods of a new era."

Wrath fell somewhat silent. He had never been particularly clever to begin with, and after becoming a demon, he had even less left besides muscle. He said, "I don’t care about transcendence or anything else. My wife and son must be resurrected within two months. Otherwise, I’ll tear you to pieces."

"Two months is enough, but you must help me with all your strength."

Greed said, "Don’t worry, I won’t cheat you, because we share a common goal: destroying this damned world."

Wrath said hatefully, "This world truly deserves to be destroyed."

Greed nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. Now, let’s plan what to do next. We cannot follow in our predecessors’ footsteps."

"Iron Man is powerful. He won’t be easy to deal with."

At the mention of Iron Man, Wrath’s expression became somewhat twisted. Iron Man had to die—if not for Iron Man, his family would never have ended up like this.

"He is indeed powerful, so we need to find helpers."

Greed’s left eye projected a light screen displaying the Universe Recycling Plant. "There are many mutant prisoners here. They hate Bert Wang to the bone. We’ll find a way to rescue them and join forces against Iron Man.

Once Iron Man is dead, no one will be able to stop us from destroying New York."

"Destroy New York?"

"That’s right, destroy New York. New York has nearly ten million people. God will definitely be very pleased."

Greed spoke with a fanatical expression. If he was going to do it, he would do it perfectly. After all, his demon name was Greed.

Wrath said coldly, "You plan, I act. And I’ll say it again: my wife and son must be resurrected within two months. Otherwise, I won’t let you off."

"Not a problem at all. In less than a month, the Super Heroes and New York will both turn to ashes."

Greed laughed loudly, and the cultists laughed with him. The era of their Doomsday Church had finally arrived.

"This is humanity."

The Behind-the-Scenes Manipulator watched everything coldly and muttered, "This world has no reason to exist at all."

Over the course of one week, two new Super Heroes appeared in New York. One was Firefighter Hero John, launched by Happy Entertainment Company. He could control flames, and no matter how large the fire was, he could easily deal with it.

In just three days, John put out five fires, each within minutes. Not only did he save a great deal of property, he also rescued dozens of people. His efficiency was far beyond that of the fire department.

The citizens loved John very much. With him around, they no longer had to fear fires. As a result, John’s popularity soared. He was even in newspapers and on television every day, becoming a rising star.

The other Super Hero was Angel Warren, who worked for the same company as Psylocke. The moment he appeared, not only did New York explode with excitement, but all of America did as well. Everyone cried out that an angel had descended.

It couldn’t be helped. Warren looked far too much like an angel, and combined with his handsome face, he didn’t even need to do anything. Simply standing there won him countless fans.

This world still cared about looks, after all. Not to mention that Warren was the son of a billionaire—his wealthy family background won him countless additional fans.

Of course, Warren was not merely a pretty face. His physique far surpassed that of ordinary people, and he helped the police catch quite a few criminals. New York’s citizens adored him.

The image of mutants improved considerably because of Warren, and the rumor Wang Bert had spread also circulated rapidly.

Without a doubt, both new Super Heroes were successful. The difference was that John was merely a minor celebrity in New York, while Warren was a major star known across the country. Their fame and popularity were not even on the same level.

John was very resentful about this. He felt that he was no worse than Warren, so why was his popularity so much lower?

"William, I want to become a Super Police immediately. I want all of New York to know who the best Super Hero really is."

John shouted at William. After becoming famous, he had clearly become much more swollen with ego.