Chapter 358: The Final Plan
"You must be the legendary Wayne Sturwell, right? This should be our second time meeting." Harkins extended his hand to Zhou Ning with a polite smile.
To be fair, Harkins looked rather presentable dressed in noble attire. But seeing the heavy aura of death lingering around him, Zhou Ning couldn't help but feel uneasy—almost afraid he might suddenly keel over from the influence of that damned little book. If that really happened right in front of him, how could he possibly explain himself? He'd instantly become the prime suspect in the prince's murder…
Harkins then gestured for the guards who had brought them in to leave, inviting the two of them to sit down. With a genial chuckle, he said, "Please, make yourselves comfortable. I invited you here not just to meet my partners but mainly to understand more about the project I'm investing in. I want to know about the upcoming development plans so I can hand them over to my private team for assessment."
John and Zhou Ning exchanged a glance and nodded. "That's not a problem," John said, "but I'll need to insist that we sign a contract first. We should ensure that our cooperation is legally protected before any further discussion."
"Of course." Harkins agreed without hesitation, explaining,
"Even though I'm a prince, my disposable income isn't much—I still have to fund an entire Magiball team. So every investment must be made with caution. Heh, being a Magiball star has been my dream since childhood, and creating a team of my own fulfills that dream. Besides, I want to establish a Magiball League someday—but that would require massive funding. Your Duel Monsters project shows incredible potential for profit. I can provide you with the widest sales network available."
A Magiball League? Whether it succeeds or not, that was quite an ambitious idea… assuming he lives long enough to see it through. Zhou Ning quietly exhaled.
Seeing that Zhou Ning didn't react much, Harkins continued,
"I first learned about Duel Monsters by accident. My carriage overturned halfway to an event, and I missed a match. Later, while resting in a tavern, I saw the game for the first time. It was fascinating—and addictive. The first time I played, I actually skipped training for it. After just one day, my first thought was, I have to invest in this."
"Things like cosplay, whips, candles, and the rest of that decadent nonsense should've been thrown into the dustbin of history long ago. Bryston doesn't need such corruption. Perhaps your creation could reshape the world's entertainment."
As Harkins spoke passionately, he slid a prepared contract across the table—clearly he had come ready. But did he really not realize that John's family business revolved around that very kind of "decadent nonsense"? His idealistic views were dangerously naïve. After all, what man doesn't have his vices?
John, however, didn't seem to care about that. After carefully reviewing the contract, he signed his name without hesitation.
Then John and Harkins launched into an animated conversation that covered a staggering range of topics—not only Duel Monsters, but also poetry, philosophy, and the meaning of life. The atmosphere was… almost suspiciously intimate.
Being a straightforward man, Zhou Ning wasn't interested in such things. What he was interested in was what the villains on the other side of the building were discussing. Slightly hunching his back, he asked apologetically, "I'm having some stomach trouble—could you tell me where the washroom is?"
"Just around the corner and down the hall, fourth door on your right," Harkins said casually.
Once outside, Zhou Ning immediately straightened up. He glanced back—two guards were patrolling between the intersecting corridors. Thanks to his "Phantom Thief", Zhou Ning quickly identified their blind spots and slipped past them, practically back-to-back with their routes.
Moving silently, he reached the far end of the left corridor. The meeting place these people had chosen was unusually remote, deep within the office section of the building.
The closer he got to that conference room, the faster his heart pounded. It wasn't hard to guess—someone inside had to be at least demi-god level. Otherwise, such oppressive pressure wouldn't exist.
Hugging the shadow of the corner, Zhou Ning heard the muffled voices inside.
An old, rasping voice spoke first. "The ritual has been long in preparation. Mr. Talonnia, is your Life Alchemy Society ready?"
"We're ready," a deep voice replied after a pause. "We had eighteen almshouses in total. Because of Wayne Sturwell's interference, six were either destroyed or abandoned. But twelve altars remain operational—all genuine, all engraved with large-scale alchemical arrays, ready to activate at any time."
"Excellent. Once the Ascendant Ritual succeeds, the amassed deaths should be enough to revive the evil god Nyastora. His Majesty's divinity will ascend accordingly," the old voice croaked on.
"And the Retreat Society? Our operation must face no interference. You're also responsible for producing the proper amount of blood required as a precondition for Nyastora's awakening. In return, your association will receive full preaching rights across the Kingdom of Bryston. Whether or not you manage to revive the Spider Mother is of no concern to us. Leoncavallo's Four-Act Opera gave us no hint of that. Ever since it encountered Wayne Sturwell, it has lost control several times—becoming dangerously unstable."
"We have no objections. As long as we gain preaching rights, all is well," came the next voice—it was none other than Vernon West, the fat boy's father and the kingdom's prime minister. His tone rose and fell smoothly as he continued, "All extraordinary forces that could interfere with the ritual are under our supervision. Today, the Circle of Earth will be flooded with false reports, keeping them too busy to intervene. The city's entire red-light district is under our control. Aside from the First Squad, Kien West and his Sunwatchers have already been dispatched to Temple Port to investigate a supernatural incident—they won't be back anytime soon."
Right—Joshua had mentioned before that the fat boy's mother was a member of the Retreat Society, and that many high-ranking nobles, including Joshua himself, were entangled with her. So Vernon West being replaced—or perhaps having always been* one of them—wasn't impossible.
Now the full picture was beginning to emerge—and it was horrifying. Most of Bryston's upper echelon were evil through and through.
Another chilling thought struck Zhou Ning: Kien West and the upper ranks of the Watchers likely knew at least part, if not all, of the truth. But for their own interests, they'd chosen silence.
Cold sweat gathered at Zhou Ning's temples. He finally understood what Mr. Turing had meant: There are no legends in Darkland. The vile each have their own vices, and the noble each their own form of corruption. How true that was.
After a brief silence, the old, rasping voice spoke again.
"Since everything is in order and nothing remains unresolved, let the plan begin. No more delays."
...
In a dimly lit room, a book lay open upon a desk. Line by line, new words began to appear across its pages.
"The plan proceeds exceedingly well. Formerly named William Charles Arthur Hudston, Charles VII is without doubt the central figure of this grand opera—and one of its ultimate beneficiaries. From the very beginning, he was deeply tied to the Life Alchemy Society. To resurrect the evil god, the association and the Curse God Cult naturally found common ground through him."
"They share mutual interests: the Curse God Cult requires vast amounts of blood and resentment for the revival of their deity, while the Life Alchemy Society needs a king of their own to rely on. The three ancient elves who lead them still dream of completing Alfred the Madman's Ascendant Ritual."
"Thus, their true target was never Charles VI. That pitiful emperor was merely bait. Charles VII and the Life Alchemy Society murdered his father and captured his soul—they needed it for experimental refinement of the Ascendant Ritual, to gather data and ensure success. It also served to divert the attention of the Watchers and Wayne Sturwell."
"But both the association and the cult lacked capable executors. Jeremy Wayne—now known as Chris Fisher—became an ideal pawn. As a branch member of the 'Honesty' family, he was upright, kind-hearted, and talented in business. Yet in this world, good men rarely prosper. His wife's betrayal and his terminal illness shattered his faith, reducing him to a pedophile, a serial killer, and a complete clown. His involvement brought manpower, wealth, and ruthless efficiency to the plan."
"The Retreat Society's participation was almost accidental. They required abundant faith energy to feed the Dark Spider Mother, Matalita. Vernon West surprised me most—he seemed respectable but was secretly a cuckold, enslaved by desire, and easily ensnared by the Order. Through him, they could manipulate officials and silence dissent. Thus, the Retreat Society entered my vision as our second ally."
"Everything proceeded flawlessly. The only variable was Wayne Sturwell. His repeated, over-the-top performances created many unexpected complications, which infuriated me—but the overall trajectory remained intact. The Poor Relief Act passed without issue, funneling countless civilians into workhouses, where endless labor harvested their resentment and life energy. Numerous altars were erected—each capable of reaping massive life force through the alchemical arrays."
"For the grand finale of this opera, Bislok, Chris Fisher, and even Charles VI had outlived their usefulness. Worthless actors make perfect sacrifices. By orchestrating a series of coincidences, I ensured Wayne Sturwell and the Watchers focused all attention on them, drawing them straight into the manor. Even if Wayne hadn't come, Charles VI's evolution would still have failed—the life energy in the flesh gel was far from sufficient. Inevitably, Wayne delivered yet another spectacular performance—but he had no time to stop what was happening elsewhere. No one could."
"Finally, for the sake of our opera's best supporting actor—Wayne Sturwell—I wished for him to personally witness the final, grand act. That was my only indulgence. I caused a carriage accident so that Harkins Charles Arthur Hudston would encounter Duel Monsters. As a born gambler, he would be instantly fascinated and eager to meet its creator. On the day of the meeting, Vernon West would have the Retreat Society's prostitutes impersonate the Earth Goddess to lure in clients, drawing the Circle of Earth's investigators' attention and delaying John Fowler. As a result, Wayne Sturwell would arrive at Darkland Fortress no earlier than 5:49 PM. His insatiable curiosity would guarantee he witnessed the grand finale firsthand. Every coincidence… precisely arranged."
Now, the book no longer exuded madness or chaos. Each word was clear, each line meticulously logical.
At that moment, black lightning erupted from the rooftops of all the almshouses, intertwining in the air until it blanketed nearly the entire city of Darkland.
Simultaneously, a blazing notification appeared on every player's interface—including Zhou Ning's—its words burning like fire:
[Apocalypse v1.2: "The Darkland Cataclysm" — Officially Begins!]