Abel Wright groaned in pain, seemingly engaged in some kind of struggle and resistance, his facial features twisted together—the more he struggled, the more he suffered. At this moment, let alone speaking, even breathing became incredibly difficult.

William Johnson tightened his five fingers, gripping Abel Wright's wrist like an iron clamp. The warm glow flared up again, dispelling the darkness and driving the eight spider legs back.

Abel Wright's groans immediately became more comfortable. At the same time, the Book of Greed once again expressed its desire, making even Wayne Baker crave it.

This was bad—the target was William Johnson.

Thanks to William Johnson's help, Abel Wright's pain was greatly reduced, and he reverted to a dazed state. He babbled incoherently and began talking about a gathering in the warehouse district.

Abel Wright didn't know much; he was not familiar with the Death Goddess cult. To be precise, he wasn't even a peripheral member—just a misguided convert.

Because he had worked hard for years, his steps were unsteady, his eyes lifeless, and his thin, withered body looked devoid of vitality. He caught the attention of a nearby Death Goddess cultist and mistakenly entered the warehouse district's stronghold.

Outnumbered, Abel Wright dared not resist. After downing a glass of black rum, the mark of the Death Goddess cult appeared on the back of his hand.

The information Abel Wright provided was of little value; only the warehouse district stronghold was worth investigating further. Under William Johnson's questioning, Abel Wright mentioned a few more names.

Among them, the name of the dockworker Blake Turner caught everyone's attention.

Mrs. Clark, Abel Wright, Blake Turner—the three were interconnected. The aura of a Death Walker on Mrs. Clark most likely came from Blake Turner. Even if he wasn't a true Death Walker, he would still be an important lead.

"Let's go, to the warehouse district!"

Veronica Smith made a snap decision, cradled the black cat, and headed outside.

William Johnson knocked Abel Wright out, grabbed a blanket to cover him, and turned to follow.

Wayne Baker stood there in a daze. His instincts told him there was danger ahead, that he would definitely regret going—but if he didn't go...

He would regret it even more!

Thinking of this dangerous world, and the Book of Greed he couldn't open, he gritted his teeth and followed.

"Are we going to the warehouse district right now?"

On the street, Wayne Baker glanced at his watch and said hesitantly, "It's getting late. By the time we get to the warehouse district, it'll be dark."

From the docks to Abel Wright's apartment and then back to the warehouse district near the docks, a lot of time had been wasted going back and forth. Wayne Baker wouldn't admit it out loud, but deep down he was very averse to nighttime in London. If possible, he wished they could set out in the morning.

William Johnson saw through Wayne Baker's thoughts. He slapped him on the shoulder—a big, broad, powerful hand, radiating astonishing warmth—and gave it a squeeze. "You must have figured it out by now. That's right, both Veronica Smith and I are magicians. So, while the night may be frightening, the moonlight will guide us. We'll be fine."

Why can't you just talk without getting handsy!

And besides, it makes sense for the beautiful Veronica Smith to be a magician, but you—a muscle-bound brute—how did you become a magician? Were there no other candidates?

Feeling William Johnson's strong, warm hand, Wayne Baker's eyelid twitched. He said dryly, "I've only read about magicians in novels. I heard it's really hard, that it requires a lot of talent. So... could I become a magician?"

"You could, but first, you need to have your own faith," William Johnson said with a serious face.

"Shut up. You talk too much. Don't drag ordinary people into this," Veronica Smith interrupted coldly.

"I know, but Wayne Baker is already involved. He's shrouded in death energy—a Death Walker has already targeted him..." William Johnson retorted, but his voice grew quieter and quieter.

It was obvious he was afraid of Veronica Smith.

Wayne Baker's eyes widened. What did he mean by "shrouded in death energy"? What did he mean a Death Walker had already targeted him? If you're going to talk about life and death, at least make yourself clear.

"Don't worry. Once we wipe out the Death Goddess cult stronghold in the warehouse district, you'll be safe," William Johnson patted Wayne Baker's shoulder again. While Veronica Smith wasn't looking, he sent a bit of light into Wayne Baker's body.

Veronica Smith glanced at William Johnson, but said nothing.

...

In the taxi, Wayne Baker sat in silence, eyes closed as if resting, but was secretly flipping through the Book of Greed while the others were unaware.

The book opened!

William Johnson hadn't taught Wayne Baker what magic was, but he had placed a defensive spell on him—a simple use of magic and faith, not complicated, but enough to protect Wayne Baker from the threat of death at a critical moment.

Wayne Baker didn't know any of this, nor did he have time to find out. The moment the light entered his body, the Book of Greed swallowed it up as if it had received a key, allowing Wayne Baker to browse its contents.

There wasn't much to see—almost all the pages were blank.

The good news was, the first page of the Book of Greed listed Wayne Baker's name. The bad news was, this book was far too unfamiliar, completely different from Wayne Baker's original intent when he first wrote the code.

Wayne Baker was baffled and could only complain that Joseph Parker had slipped in some personal stuff, or maybe a bunch of bugs had created new features.

When writing the Book of Greed, Wayne Baker had added a lot of settings: title bonuses, attribute doubling, full attribute immunity, Outer Gods, and so on.

One of these settings was called Sacrifice. Its effect was to sacrifice a player, obtain all the items in their inventory, and freeze that account for seven days.