Floating lightly in mid-air, Samael clearly didn’t care at all about Qi Xing’s disdainful gaze.

"For example, right now, I can feel another silver coin approaching."

She narrowed her eyes with a smile.

—In an instant, Qi Xing immediately understood the meaning of her words.

In a flash, he had fully entered a state of combat readiness!

But he still had to retort: "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"You didn't ask. Besides, you ignored me all day and still expected me to act as your radar? I'm not that cheap."

Samael raised her slender eyebrows.

"Professor Van Stra is a piece of trash that can't be molded; he can't be considered a true [Silver Coin Messenger]."

"But now, there is a [Demon King] who has truly mastered his own [silver coin], and he has clear will and political goals, and will not easily yield."

"Can you defeat him? Or are you going to get beaten until you're dazed and waiting for me to save you?"

This was truly a blatant provocation. The evil god who decided everything on her own was already showing a bratty little girl's wicked smile.

Qi Xing was almost amused to the point of laughter by her.

Very well, you have guts.

As you wish, I will bring out my real skills.

"Samael, how about another bet?"

He suddenly said,

"If I don't win, I'll tell you my true wish. How about it?"

These words finally exceeded the evil god loli's expectations, causing her to widen her eyes in surprise: "Then, of course, I'm very interested. What do you want to bet?"

"If I win,"

Qi Xing bared a cold, sinister smile,

"I'm going to spank your butt."

"Huh?"

—

At seven in the evening, on the campus of the University of Rome, the light of the street lamps still shone on the damp stone road.

Students moved in twos and threes between the library and the dormitories, talking to each other about exams, papers, or simply complaining about the cold January weather.

A rain fell at this moment.

At first, it seemed like an ordinary winter night drizzle, pattering softly against the windows of the teaching building, blurring the water marks. But soon, people noticed something strange.

This rain was not transparent; it was a strange, viscous white slime with a faint fishy smell. It reflected an unnatural halo under the street lamps, flowing slowly like some kind of living thing.

"What kind of hellish weather is this…"

A student muttered, reaching out to catch a drop,

"Is this really rain? Why does it feel like █…"

The moment the rain touched his skin, his pupils suddenly dilated, his breathing became rapid, as if his entire body had been torn apart and stitched back together in an instant. When he gasped sharply, he realized his voice had changed—the original Italian accent had disappeared, replaced by fluent and unfamiliar Creole French.

Screams erupted all around.

"Wait… what's going on?!"

Someone raised a hand to wipe the viscous white rain from their face, only to find the color of their palm turning from white to black, two shades darker than before, the knuckles becoming thicker, and strange pore textures appearing on the skin.

A girl looked down at her reflection in a puddle, her pupils trembling slightly—the person in the reflection was not her at all. Her familiar features twisted and reorganized, her nose bridge widened, her lips became thick, and even her hair quality became curly and fluffy, like the African refugees she occasionally saw on the street.

"My face?! This isn't my face!!"

She screamed as she fell to the ground, grabbing her hair tightly, trying to tear apart this absurd nightmare.

The rain continued to fall, and panic spread across the campus.

Some tried to cover their heads with their clothes, but it was too late; their voices, skin, and even their languages began to change. Some screamed in Italian in terror, but the speech was chaotic, as if their tongues no longer obeyed them but had been forcibly filled with a strange language.

Others lost their voices completely, unable to do anything but open their mouths wide, looking at their familiar friends nearby with confused and desperate eyes—their friends were no longer their friends.

The rain washed over the marble statues, seeped into the stone cracks, flowed into the streets, soaking books and drenching school uniforms. Under the night sky of the entire University of Rome, crying, screaming, and praying sounds mixed together, like a twisted nightmare.

The strange, viscous white rain continued to fall, and the range was getting larger and larger. Starting from the University of Rome, the rainfall range expanded—soon, from tonight on, everyone would be African.

038: Inner Realm Black Man from the Steroid Planet

The viscous white rain kept falling.

Getting heavier and heavier.

An Italian male student stared blankly at his outstretched palm, the color of his skin deepening, the shape of his knuckles changing slightly. He looked up in horror at the glass window of the teaching building; the reflection was no longer his familiar self, but a completely strange face. He stepped back several paces, trying to shout something, but what came out was a completely strange language.

In the distance, a Mexican girl hugged her head, murmuring: "Dios mío, qué pasa (My God, what happened…)"

But before she could finish, the second half of the sentence had turned into Creole, and her brain told her that this was what she was supposed to say originally.

The change was spreading.

An ethnic Chinese international student stared at his phone screen. The person in the screen had their features twisting and reshaping, skin color deepening, eye shape changing, and even the bone structure was subtly adjusting.

He widened his eyes, wanting to shout, but the sound coming out of his mouth was no longer Chinese. It was replaced by completely strange vocabulary, and his flesh insisted—this was the correct way to express himself. He couldn't even remember what his mother tongue was supposed to sound like.

Screams and cries mixed together. People rushed frantically toward buildings, trying to avoid this strange rain, but the change had already happened; they could not return to their original state.

Meanwhile, in the square outside the main entrance of the [Exorcism Association], a strange sound rang out.

It was music.

It was ancient Caribbean dance music, with an indescribable, eerie rhythm, like the most primitive ritual drumbeats of humanity, carrying an unsettling joy.

It was a grand carnival of the dead.

A group of returned undead wearing gorgeous but tattered formal wear were dancing, wearing cracked skull masks, spinning on an empty stage accompanied by an invisible band, revealing eerie smiles. Their footsteps struck the ground as if trampling on the hearts of the living. On their hands or feet, there were always places where nails or rings were nailed, becoming percussion instruments.

In the center of this dance of death, a man sat on a luxurious black throne, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest, as if conducting all of this. Behind him were two rows of black-robed priests wearing bird-beak masks, hanging with voodoo talismans, holding candles stained with dried blood.

This man had a dark and muscular build, his well-defined chest and abdominal muscles displaying extraordinary power. Even at night, his skin still carried an oily luster, as if bathed in scorching sunlight. He radiated a wild and noble kingly aura that was unbelievably powerful, his expression indifferent, the corners of his mouth slightly curled into a half-smile.

Every time, just by walking beside him and feeling her leader's [Shocking Heroic Power]—[Madame Poison Bee] Martina Fabbri, one of [The Four Titans], felt endless joy from the bottom of her heart.

Because only unqualified female █ would need the master to actually █ inside to realize the master's greatness.

Excellent █ █, just by seeing and smelling the master's heroic power, it is already enough to give her ten points of █ █.

Martina Fabbri, 31 years old this year, was once an ordinary housewife in Florida, USA. Ten years ago, she married her childhood sweetheart.

Because they grew up together, she had once thought that she would bathe in eternal love with her husband like this… but in reality, as she grew older, her feelings for her husband gradually faded… It wasn't that anything had actually happened, but it seemed she had just become a tool to do housework for her husband and son.

Until her great master broke into her life three years ago, and incidentally broke into her body.

He not only taught her the joy of being a woman, but even bestowed power upon her, training her to be so strong, making her one of the [The Four Titans] of the [Black Spartacus] organization, the bewitching [Madame Poison Bee], allowing her to have an interesting and happy life that wasn't that of a boring housewife.

Now her golden wavy hair has turned into a dull purple.

Those clear and bright blue pupils have turned into a dark brown like dried blood.

Her fair skin has also turned into a lighter shade of black, her whole body exuding a bewitching aura. Her past physical characteristics are now almost all gone.

But she is very happy now. How powerful and great is her black master? In comparison, other races, whether white, yellow, or red, are all just too weak. That's right… other races were born into this world to become slaves to the big black █!

The great man just raised his hand lightly, and all the voodoo warriors stopped their dance steps instantly, all looking toward the gate of the [Exorcism Association].

"Tonight is the moment to witness the new world!"

He stretched his arms lazily, as if embracing all of Rome, but his tone carried an unquestionable arrogance,

"Italy will tremble under our feet! Christianity will be completely destroyed! The rotten foundation of modern civilization will burn to ash in our fury!"

He smiled slightly, his gaze cast forward,

"The lair of the [International Exorcism Association] is right before our eyes."

He waved his hand lazily, his tone like a king giving an order,

"Go, [Madame Poison Bee]. Kill them all, let their wailing echo throughout the city of Rome—then, we will head straight for the [Vatican], and let the whole world welcome the arrival of the new era!"

Martina received her master's order and immediately acted with joy.

With her own man to rely on, she didn't even want to use her brain much. But Martina still stepped with bewitching cat-like steps, walking toward the main entrance of the [Association].

The exorcists inside the [Association] were not stupid. They certainly knew that an anomaly had already occurred outside.

They saw the main door of the hall slide open silently, moonlight outlining a tall figure. They saw a dark-skinned woman walk in with elegant steps, her amber high heels clicking crisply on the stone floor.

Her right half was shrouded in a flowing amber honeycomb exoskeleton, thousands of poisonous bees wriggling under her skin, emitting a faint buzzing sound. The right eye under the compound eye veil looked like countless insects staring at their prey simultaneously.

"Good evening, exorcists,"

Her voice was as soft as a lover's whisper, yet it carried a bone-chilling sweetness,

"Are you two the appetizer for tonight?"

Two on-duty exorcists immediately became alert. One was an elderly monk, his gray robe slightly bulging, his fingers already gripping the silver cross hanging at his waist; the other was a young [Witch Hunter], wearing a black battle robe, immediately flipping his hand to draw the silver short sword at his waist.

"Halt! This is a holy place, you may not enter!" The monk shouted sternly.

However, Martina just let out a light laugh, a cold light flashing across the golden compound eye mask of her right eye: "A holy place?"

"To me, this is just a beehive."

A drop of black honey dripped from her fingertips to the ground.

The next second, the floor trembled, and a swarm of small, ink-black bees flowed out from the floor! Condensing into a streamlined arrow, it shot straight toward the young exorcist's chest!

The [Witch Hunter] flashed his figure, the silver short sword drawing a crescent-shaped arc, shattering a corner of the swarm, but several poisonous bees still burrowed into his cuffs.

The elderly monk immediately held up the silver cross, splashing a stream of holy water, chanting the Latin exorcism prayer: "We cast you out in the name of the Lord, all evil spirits…"

His voice echoed in the hall like a great bell. Visually, there was no special effect, yet it somehow managed to block the swarm outside.

The divine arts of the [Christianity] system were basically like this.

So Martina waved her hand lightly, and the swarm turned into a golden torrent, rushing straight toward the exorcists, forcibly shattering the old monk's prayer. The swarm knocked him staggering backward, and the young [Witch Hunter] was also knocked to the ground, his short sword flying out of his hand.

[Madame Poison Bee] walked over slowly, leaned down gently, her slender fingertips resting on the old monk's chin, softly lifting his face: "Do you know? Amber is the gentlest grave—it can allow life to be forever frozen in its most beautiful moment."

With a flick of her finger, a drop of black honey fell into the monk's throat.

"Ugh—ah—"

The monk's body instantly stiffened, his skin glowing with a transparent luster, he widened his eyes, his consciousness still clear, yet he could not move, only able to watch as his muscles and bones were bit by bit amberized, eventually becoming an amber sculpture.

The young [Witch Hunter] gritted his teeth and struggled to get up, opening his mouth, preparing to chant the final prayer. But Martina just tilted her head and raised her index finger.

Pfft—a huge saber-toothed bee broke out of his body, instantly piercing the [Witch Hunter]'s chest!

Blood dripped along the giant bee's mouthparts, he widened his eyes, his lips trembling slightly, but he could no longer make any sound, collapsing dead.

"God is dead!"

Martina gave a charming laugh, then clapped her hands with satisfaction, letting the swarm fly out in all directions to hunt down everyone in the [Association].

This was her ability, a special voodoo art taught to her by her master. She was an atypical voodoo practitioner who combined bee god worship with voodoo, featuring amber curses, playing with insects and life, rather than the undead of traditional voodoo.

Using these little poisonous bees to lay eggs and poison all the living things in the [Association] was simply the easiest thing. [Madame Poison Bee] was the person best at biochemical attacks among the [The Four Titans] of [Black Spartacus]. She had absolute confidence in finishing this matter within half an hour.

Until, she suddenly felt a slight vibration from the ground.

She heard the dull echo of iron and stone cracking.

The sound came from deep within the earth, like the low-frequency roar before an earthquake. The dust floating in the air stilled for a moment, as if the entire space were holding its breath.

Then, heavy footsteps came from underground, each step like a giant hammer striking the earth.

"This is impossible."

The vibration grew stronger and stronger. Martina muttered, immediately ordering the swarmed bees that had flown out to return and form a defensive formation. At the same time, she stared fixedly at the basement door at the other end of the hall, remaining alert.