God instructs everyone not to kill their fellow humans, for those with stained hands cannot gain forgiveness. He considers everyone as lambs, while he is the eternal shepherd.
Why would herbivores slaughter each other?
However, the existence of Heaven cannot be proven, and the patriarchs of the church are more inclined to sell indulgences. If you kill someone, you'd at least donate a hundred US Dollars to the church, right?
In the United States, there are three kinds of people who are highly informed. One kind is nightclub bartenders and prostitutes. They interact with many people, their information network is broad, and some even part-time in mercenary introductions.
Another kind is lawyers and mistresses of the wealthy. They are well aware of the dirty things the wealthy have done and keep everything concealed, sometimes also responsible for contacting mercenaries to do some cleaner business.
The last kind is church priests. In the confessional, through a thinly carved door panel, people will confess all their wrongdoings in a rush to gain a relief for their souls.
From peeking at the neighboring house's pregnant woman bathing, to committing a massacre, people seem completely defenseless against the priest.
No matter what is said in the small cubicle, the priest's answer is always the same—"God will forgive you."
When the penitent walks out of the confessional in ease, a nun will inform them that the indulgence sales point is a small window to the left of the entrance of the church.
Su Ming does not like priests because they do not cooperate with mercenaries and are tight-lipped, making it nearly impossible to extract information from them.
God also does not like priests, although no one knows where he is or what he has done, but at least he created the Spirit of Vengeance.
No forgiveness; at least money is not the reason for forgiveness. A blood feud should be repaid in blood. When the Spirit of Vengeance merges with a human, it becomes the Evil Spirit Knight, the executioner.
Mephisto is not the creator of the Evil Spirit Knight; he's merely an intermediary, a regulator. The souls burned by the Hellfire of the Evil Spirit Knight dissipate directly and do not fall into the hands of any Lord of Hell.
"If the Bible tells us that revenge is terribly wrong, then why does it feel so sweet to think about? Why does the blood of villains flowing out seem as tempting as wine?"
"Huh? Teacher, what are you talking about?"
At this moment, Su Ming and Secret Guest had already returned to Wilson Enterprises, and the time was precisely midnight. Mordo was once again sent by Su Ming to buy a pancake and fruit. In the dark office, there were only two Supreme Mages.
Deathstroke from the Main Dimension and Secret Guest from the Second Dimension.
Secret Guest's eyes glowed with red light; her Demon transformation granted her low-light vision, while Su Ming relied on Strangulation to 'see' things, as if the pitch black made no difference.
"Nothing, I am not a Cross Cultist; just recalling the words once spoken by the Evil Spirit Knight." Su Ming smiled and shook his head, rotating the chair to look out the window. The moon hung high in the sky but was not very bright.
Secret Guest walked behind his desk, her hands gripping the chair's backrest: "Teacher knows that person?"
"Sort of; this generation's Evil Spirit Knight is quite a contradictory figure, constantly entangled in the logical whirlpool of whether revenge is justified." Su Ming quietly leaned against the chair back, patiently waiting: "He's a cultist, deeply brainwashed by Cross Teachings, believing murder is a sin."
"Contemplating God's teachings while killing?" Secret Guest revealed a smile; her big eyes narrowed like those of a cat: "This should be a mental disorder, right?"
"He has PTSD, a veteran from the Civil War era, Southern Army." Su Ming answered Secret Guest's question. This Evil Spirit Knight can be considered quite old, but the Evil Spirit Transformation makes his lifespan nearly endless, eternally tormented.
This Evil Spirit Knight was selected beforehand by Mephisto. On the battlefield, he was shot by heavy machine gun fire and a cannon shell, launching him over ten meters high, yet he did not die, merely fainted.
Afterward, on the smoke-cleared battlefield, he was saved by a Black man. As a representative of a slave owner, the Southern Army Major was saved by a newly freed slave.
The Black man healed his injuries, and he helped the Black man with farming at home as repayment of the favor. Gradually, their relationship grew closer, like family with different skin tones.
Two years later, the Civil War ended, the Southern Army was completely defeated, and he, the deserter, could finally go home to visit.
So he bid farewell to the Black man, returned home, and lived for a while. But when he visited his friend again, he found the entire Black family dead.
The Southern Army's defeated soldiers, the Major's former comrades, killed the Black man's entire family, including raping and murdering the Black man's pregnant wife, then raping her corpse, removing the fetus, and impaling it alongside the mother on stakes by the roadside.
Thus, the Major picked up the gun again, hunting these people across the entire United States to avenge his savior.
But in this process, he gradually found a mysterious man completely shrouded in black cloth, equally pursuing these people with unspeakable brutality.
During this time, many truly horrifying and irregular events occurred; he ultimately discovered that underneath the black cloth was a burning skeleton.
It was the Black man who saved him; he died, yet lived again because Mephisto disguised as the Voodoo God made a deal with his soul.
Initially, the Black man only sought revenge for his wife and child, but gradually, the ecstasy of revenge filled his soul, prompting him to avenge all those in the world who suffer injustice.
The Major was a Cross Cultist. He advised the Black man to stop after the enemies were all dead, not to become a tool of the Devil.
But the Black man had lost all reason, his soul engulfed by the flames of vengeance, transforming entirely into the Spirit of Vengeance.
The Major, having killed many on the battlefield, was guilty too. Thus, the Black man's target became him.
After having a hand burned off by Hellfire, Mephisto appeared at the opportune moment, using 'let your Black friend rest in peace' as a bargaining chip, forcing the Major to become the Evil Spirit Knight.
This is the story of the Ghost Rider, Travis Palum, from the past.
From 1865, when the American Civil War ended, to the end of the Second World War now, over eighty years have passed, yet he still looks like he's in his prime.
He has exceptional self-control; even in his skeleton form, he can think normally and make rational judgments, rather than burning anyone he meets.
But after all, so much time has passed, he can't even estimate how many people he has killed or avenged over the years.
..........
In the hazy moonlight, Su Ming can see a flame rapidly approaching along the highway by the sea.
It's a figure on horseback, wearing a coat commonly worn by cowboys, and the horse is enveloped in flames, snorting sparks from its nostrils.
The high-speed gallop trails a fiery tail behind them, igniting the asphalt with its hooves, leaving a long trail of burning hoof prints.
Seeing such a scene at night would probably scare an ordinary person faint.
"Here he comes, Mephisto's efficiency handling things is quite remarkable." Su Ming stroked his beard; he had only just left Hell when the Ghost Rider arrived to answer his summons.
"Riding a horse down the highway?" Secret Guest spread his hands in helplessness, despising such a flashy entrance: "In this day and age, how many witnesses would there be?"
"That's why I have to go out to meet him, can't let him get close to Wilson Mansion and draw attention." Su Ming stood up, black goo spreading across his body, hardening instantly into yellow-black metal: "You can go to the academy to play with Ciri, don't let the Ghost Rider see you."
"I have to return to the Hell Border, maybe next time, take care during your action."
"I have a plan."
Secret Guest hugged Su Ming as a goodbye. Suddenly, a pit full of tentacles appeared on the floor; she smiled and winked at him, pinching her nose like a child jumping into water and leapt in.
Su Ming had called Secret Guest solely to negotiate with Mephisto, and as for handling the Inhumans and the Blood Race, Mordo and Ghost Rider were more than sufficient.
He went up the stairs to the rooftop, his cloak taking him to leap out, quickly intercepting the horse on the highway. Ghost Rider pulled on the reins, the fiery warhorse raising its front hooves in a sudden stop.
"Mr. Palum," Su Ming floated mid-air, speaking to him.
The rider grabbed his hat with a hand entirely made of flames, lifting it slightly in greeting: "Supreme Mage, is there a sinner needing judgment?"
"Everyone in the world carries guilt, you know that."
Su Ming landed, walking towards him as Mordo, who was carrying pancakes, squeezed through the Teleportation Gate, all sweaty.
The Supreme Mage wanted pancakes with a hundred eggs; he had to go buy them. At the time, the chef looked at Mordo like he was crazy.
If you love eggs so much, why don't you buy an egg cake? Pancakes with a hundred eggs are thicker than a carpet; how to eat that?
If Mordo didn't look like a foreigner, and he paid normally without messing around, the breakfast seller would have called the police.
Su Ming raised a finger, indicating to the Ghost Rider to wait a moment; he needed to have a late-night snack and take the opportunity to teach Mordo a few things.
"Why didn't you buy soy milk? How can I eat something so dry? Ah, you can't even buy food right; how can I entrust you with heavy responsibilities?"
Mordo's heart stirred, heavy responsibilities? For a moment, his thoughts ran wild.
Deathstroke, as the Supreme Mage, was almost neglectful, leaving the daily operations of the Magic Realm to Master Hamill and Master Monak. Could the earlier words mean....?
"Sorry, Master, I wasn't up to the task." Mordo immediately started drawing circles with the Suspended Ring, planning to go buy soy milk again, no, this time he'd include tofu pudding.
"Forget it this time, ah, seems like there's still much I need to teach you." Su Ming waved his hand, indicating he needn't go, instead tearing a piece of pancake and bringing it to his mouth, eating it like cake, though it tasted a bit fishy.
Mordo bowed his head: "Thank you, Master."
Su Ming ignored him, instead shaking the pancake closer to Palum: "Want a bite?"
Palum's shoulders moved, his skeleton jaws continuously clashing like laughing, then he raised his hand to indicate the bones under his coat: "No stomach."
"Transform back and you'll have one; I don't want to roam like a torch in the middle of the night, your appearance made all the vampires run away." Su Ming didn't withdraw his hand, his single eye instead fixed on Ghost Rider's eyes.
Palum seemed to ponder for a moment before he dismounted, the flames on him extinguishing instantly.
A haggard-looking man appeared before the two, his right sleeve empty, and the black horse beside him huffed and puffed heavily.
"Then I'll try a bit."
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