Chapter 2672: Chapter 2667: Eight Maleficent Women (43)

"In such a hurry to leave?"

The car’s power is actually quite ordinary, and coupled with a less-than-optimal heart condition, Fu Qian drives extremely cautiously, making it through the checkpoint slowly.

Yet unexpected events always come unannounced; just as the driver’s seat crosses the checkpoint line, a voice suddenly rings out.

It’s certainly not Su Gao, nor is it from the checkpoint staff.

The voice is hoarse and unpleasant, surpassing even the disguise of Rachel.

But they say judging a book by its cover is wrong; at least the tone and meaning of the words sound quite friendly, like a plea for distant guests to stay.

The problem is that their scenery is ordinary too, and culturally there’s not even a shadow of a bird to be seen—

At a certain moment Fu Qian hits the brakes, sniffing a sweet scent wafting into his nostrils.

It’s not an ordinary taste sensation, faintly reminiscent of the first encounter with the Witch.

Only that the Witch directly imprinted the concept of beauty into the will, while this is something more overt.

Decomposed hormones, oozing flesh, pustules on white skin... a gentle bite, and the synapses seem to turn soft and weak.

And there’s no desire for strength; the impulse to indulge grows rapidly.

All things considered, it’s indeed an effective plea.

As for the local enthusiast—Fu Qian looks up and spots a hunched human figure.

It’s indeed someone he hasn’t seen before, and though the features are quite distinct, it’s hard even to tell if they’re male or female.

Partly because they look quite androgynous, partly because the body is emerging from a pit.

Apart from two arms holding the sides to keep from sinking and drowning, only a small portion of the upper body is exposed.

Yes, it’s even a water-filled pit.

Paired with the surrounding sweet pungency and heat, it momentarily feels like being in a hot spring.

But this is not the main point; Fu Qian is certain that it should be the location of the booth.

Now not only has the staff changed, but everything has turned unrecognizable.

...

It really isn’t an ordinary passing of the checkpoint.

He’s imagined various scene changes before, but coming so swiftly is still somewhat startling.

Fu Qian doesn’t rush to respond to the plea, instead carefully observing his surroundings at that moment.

The checkpoint has been transformed beyond recognition, and even his path back has completely changed.

This time, even the old, dilapidated appearance is gone, replaced by an overwhelming bio-punk style.

Rather than bizarre buildings, it more resembles coral reefs with strange hues.

The base is a lustrous white, while further up layers overlap to extravagantly showcase genetic diversity, presenting a tree of dazzling colors.

But this is only the initial impression; upon closer inspection, it’s apparent that the textures are overly smooth and lustrous, likely far less robust than coral.

The structure itself is an illusion, more like overlapping webs layered upon each other.

Wait a moment, I’ve seen this kind of structure before.

At that moment Fu Qian recalls academic exchanges with Professor Ian, a newcomer at the Divine Ashes Institute, and even his final Demigod form.

So it really is Lord Stomach?

I’ve said this warehouse creature is petty, always jumping around; ultimately it’s bound to face consequences.

...

So what is this place? Is it Lord Stomach’s Divine Domain?

Several excessively familiar scenes quickly make Fu Qian realize the previous guess might be correct.

"Sanctuary" is not a coincidence; this time, the warehouse’s mission might indeed target Lord Stomach.

And it’s undeniable, the scene before him does have a strong personal style.

Apart from all the visible structures having morphed into Tree of Ecstasy-like formations, even the road beneath his feet is no exception.

The overall color is slightly subdued, but upon close look, it’s clear that it’s no longer the fractured, crushed hard pavement beneath the wheels, also made of overlapping webs.

These webs are indeed as imagined, flexible; this not-too-heavy vehicle presses down, creating an arc.

Even within the grid’s gaps, there’s slightly cloudy mucus seeping.

No need to touch with hands, it’s as if the warmth can be felt, and that exotic sweet scent emanates from within.

So is this still the Sea of Souls?

Fu Qian recalls an earlier hypothesis.

Considering the type of power possessed by Lord Stomach, if His or His domain is intertwined with the Sea of Souls, the perception isn’t too surprising.

But if these fluids are the seawater, then isn’t this Sea of Souls somewhat heavily contaminated?

In awe, Fu Qian glances again at his previous route, which theoretically should be the area beyond the checkpoint.

The style is somewhat alike, but the overall sense is gradually becoming clean, as if pollution is fading away.

So if he continues driving, will he safely leave?

Or is this the objective Su Gao and her group hope to achieve?

If that’s the case, then his destination, the Sanctuary, should still be at the original location of the Dark Holy Hall?

Admittedly, the view in that direction isn’t promising.

If Su Gao were to follow, she’d have to have a bit of impulse to stop his falling.

It’s quite natural to come to a hypothesis, as Fu Qian’s gaze falls upon the one who spoke with the invitation, and truly shifts into reverse.

It’s unfortunate no one’s watching now, the professor here just wants to fall.

...

The truth is, until he completely retreats, the one soaking in the spring does not speak again.

The previous eager invitation appears merely a commercial ritual.

Fortunately, Fu Qian never minds such details; professional ethics are ethics, after all.

"Then let me wander more, is the Sanctuary in that direction?"

Without a response, he not only indicates acceptance but even directly counters the gaze with a question, pointing toward the direction of the Dark Holy Hall.

"Sanctuary... you’d better not go there."

This time, the individual responds, though the content is somewhat unexpected.

Earlier advised not to leave in haste, now the foot doesn’t recommend deep exploration?

Such contradictory action, a traveler surely won’t help but be perplexed.

However, the tone is genuinely serious, as if guiding a lost lamb.

"So that is indeed the Sanctuary."

Meanwhile, Fu Qian consistently forms optimistic conclusions, extracting positive information from the answer.

"...Turn back."

Seeing the car has already started moving, the individual shows complete disregard for persuasion; the bather seems to have run out of persuasive templates, resorting only to dry discouragement.

Unfortunately, both fall and ecstasy are so wonderfully enchanting, those indulged aren’t easily swayed.

In an instant, Fu Qian has already turned the car around, advancing toward the more heated region.

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