Chapter 65

Songs of prayer echoed endlessly under the sea, drawing countless monsters into the wild revelry, all synchronized with the girl’s ethereal voice.

Her figure flickered within the deep ocean, and Jiang Suliu couldn’t discern if this was a hallucination or reality.

Then, suddenly, her voice was beside him. “Jiang Suliu? What are you doing here?”

The icy currents instantly parted, and she murmured softly, “Why not come dance with us?”

Instinctively, Jiang Suliu turned his head, and in the next moment, a hand touched his eyes, blocking his vision.

As she spoke, he sensed a thick, muddy scent and a hint of decaying roses on her breath.

The great Thousand-Faced Moon was right there. Jiang Suliu was acutely aware of this.

This was not the usual, familiar Yue Yin; this was the true Thousand-Faced Moon.

Countless believers had sacrificed their lives just to glimpse the deity. Jiang Suliu had never truly understood, but now, with his blood boiling, he finally grasped the fervent longing that drove these devout followers.

He yearned for a single look, just one.

Sensing his urgency, she asked, with a touch of surprise, “What are you doing?”

Compelled as if by a spell, Jiang Suliu barely hesitated before answering honestly, “I want to see…”

“Shh.” A finger pressed to his lips, her tone cooling.

Her fingers were cold as she whispered softly, “You cannot look; it is unspeakable.”

“You dare to gaze upon a god?”

She laughed quietly, a note of mockery and indifference in her voice. “Foolishness.”

She was so distant, so unfeeling. Though her voice was still Yue Yin’s, it now held a frost-cold detachment that was entirely unfamiliar.

Jiang Suliu’s boiling blood froze in an instant.

He dared not move, dared not breathe, like a chastised child, bewildered and filled with immense shame.

Overwhelmed by remorse, Jiang Suliu felt that even if the Thousand-Faced Moon commanded his death, he would comply without hesitation.

Then, the girl’s harshness softened as she gently stroked him with her fingertips.

She said, “Good child, good child, I do this for your sake.”

She was a being beyond human comprehension; her descent always brought death in her wake, whether it was the sacrifices or the fanatic followers.

Those who dared to glimpse her were destined for madness or death.

Yue Yin repeated, “Do not look, Jiang Suliu.”

With that, she released her hand and vanished, leaving only her soft voice drifting on the current, “I don’t want you to die too soon.”

…

The ocean was silent, devoid of all.

Where once stood the island of Surina, nothing remained.

“It’s gone… Surina Island has sunk, just like that damned legend. Everyone is dead!”

The few survivors of the investigation team urgently reported their findings, suspecting that Yue Yin, who had joined them midway, was a false god’s follower and that it had all been part of a sinister plot.

International organizations quickly took notice, even preparing to send a team to investigate. But when they learned from the Paranormal Incident Management that Yue Yin was a newly identified S-rank ability user, they fell silent.

The incident was quietly closed, and no one dared to probe further into the mystery of Surina Island’s disappearance.

On the private flight back home, Jiang Suliu was still gripped by an overwhelming sense of unreality.

Was he now human or a monster?

Several tentacles rose from his back, reaching out toward the bar, trying to grab a bottle of wine.

Jiang Suliu shot them a cold look, and the bold tentacles quickly retracted, hiding in fear.

He frowned slightly.

A day had passed since the ritual, and he was still not accustomed to the changes in his body. These tentacles had a will of their own and didn’t fully obey him.

Yue Yin lounged on a chair, watching a drama. After a week without internet on Surina, she was catching up on her shows and novels with great enthusiasm.

Resting her chin in her hands, she watched the lead characters share a sweet kiss, delighting in the scene. “Why worry about something like that?”

Hearing this, Jiang Suliu quieted down.

He glanced at the blue ocean below the plane’s window and chuckled softly. “You’re right.”

Isn’t that what it means to be a fanatic—a living monster?

From the moment he pledged his faith and was chosen, he was destined to be different.

Yue Yin thought he was unhappy. After all, anyone would be unsettled if they suddenly sprouted extra limbs.

Watching his tentacles, she thought for a moment and reassured him, “You’re an ability user. A little bit of strangeness is perfectly normal.”

Jiang Suliu froze. “I’m an ability user?”

He had specifically researched the difference between ability users and regular people. Around age three, ability users would awaken with a sense of purpose, almost like a guiding voice in their minds.

Captain Li of the Paranormal Incident Management once said, “As children, we’re naturally drawn to the god who chose us. When we offer our faith, we gain unique abilities.”

Jiang Suliu murmured, “I showed no special gifts as a child. How could I be an ability user?”

Yue Yin laughed, amused. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

She put down her show, looked at him with curiosity, and replied, “You are my chosen follower. Always have been. Why else would I come to you?”

It seemed so strange to her that her own follower didn’t consider himself an ability user or believe he had been chosen.

If Jiang Suliu weren’t her follower, why would she have become his classmate or saved him?

He recalled the dreams that haunted him as a child, his throat tightening. “I thought… I thought it was just coincidence.”

He had assumed that Yue Yin’s choice to save him was due to their coincidental seating arrangement and his usefulness in helping her reach her goals, like finishing homework or acting as her ATM.

Of course, there was some truth to that.

But Yue Yin didn’t save him just because of that; there were plenty of wealthy, capable people in the world—she didn’t have to focus on Jiang Suliu.

She patted his shoulder, saying, “You are my chosen follower. You didn’t awaken because you hadn’t found me yet.”

Naturally, Jiang Suliu couldn’t have found her—she had forgotten about Earth entirely and couldn’t have answered him.

“In short, you’ve been my chosen follower for a long time.”

Yue Yin rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure why, but perhaps my true form foresaw that I’d come to Earth and selected you as my follower.”

Jiang Suliu rarely appeared as lost as he did now. Yue Yin tried to comfort him, “You may have been an ordinary person, but from now on, you’ll be remarkable.”

The girl slipped her hands into her pockets and said solemnly, “Jiang Suliu, I have high hopes for you. Out of all my followers, I chose you because I believe you can become my High Priest!”

Jiang Suliu was speechless. Logically, he felt Yue Yin might just be giving him empty promises, but emotionally, as he looked at the tendrils extending from his body, he felt that maybe she was being sincere—though something felt a bit off.

Yue Yin added, “With a few extra arms, you could now write five homework assignments at once!”

Finally, Jiang Suliu realized what was wrong. He also understood why his powers seemed unusual compared to other ability-users, who simply had divine magic.

Yue Yin continued confidently, “Relax. Your current power level is at least an A-grade by human standards! Don’t get too excited; as my follower, you naturally deserve such rewards.”

She was almost moved by her own generosity. Although she often painted grand visions, sometimes, she was surprisingly willing to give—when she actually remembered her followers existed.

Thinking of this, Yue Yin grew a bit nostalgic for the fishfolk from Surina.

She walked to the window, gazing at the sea below. “A long time ago, I came here, living in a swamp of greenish sludge. The first native to discover me witnessed me taking the heads of the cultists who pursued him. He called me the God of Salvation and brought others seeking my protection.”

“I told them I was the Thousand-Faced Moon, and they swore to keep my existence a secret, calling themselves the Secret Order.”

Jiang Suliu stood respectfully to the side, murmuring, “You are truly merciful, my lord.”

Yue Yin, lost in memory, raised her eyebrow and chuckled. “Do you think I appeared as a hero back then? Oh, no.”

That day, she’d merely observed from the swamp, amused, watching prey turn against each other and taking their heads afterward.

Most of the time, when the Thousand-Faced Moon wandered, she used her true form. Thus, the scene was likely terrifying: imagine a vast gray swamp, with severed heads of various shapes and species floating atop, all crying, laughing, and screaming in eerie unison.

When the cultists hunting the native saw her, they were understandably horrified, trying to kill her in a panic. Oddly enough, the native knelt before her, calling her his savior and begging for refuge.

Yue Yin had found them intriguing and decided to help. She removed the heads of the intruders, and the fishfolk emerged from the swamp to celebrate over their fallen enemies.

Recalling these fishfolk, she spoke softly, “The Deep Ones lived there, too—gray-green-skinned, with oversized fish heads, bulging eyes, gills, and raspy voices that could get very loud. Despite that, they were oddly endearing.”

She went on, “Over time, humans developed their societies. As more outsiders came, the fishfolk retreated from the swamp to the deep sea. I used to call them Deep Ones, but eventually, people began calling them ‘Deep Dwellers.’ The natives saw them as fishfolk, creatures who emerged from the same swamp as me. The Secret Order regarded them as my loyal subjects and treated them kindly.”

Hearing this, Jiang Suliu thought deeply. He suspected it wasn’t just reverence; perhaps it was also the shared history of the fishfolk helping the natives fend off invaders, as Yue Yin had recounted. This ancestral bond explained the natives’ hostility toward outsiders and their affinity for the fishfolk.

Yue Yin, fully aware of these reasons, seldom pondered them. Had she not revisited Surina, she might have forgotten about her abandoned followers altogether.

After all, there were countless worlds and species in the cosmos. She drifted through the void, immersed in sleep, occasionally scaring humans who strayed into her realm and creating unsolved mysteries.

In the vastness of space, time stretched indefinitely. How could she remember every species that worshiped her or respond to each follower’s call?

But those followers remained unaware and could not believe they’d truly been abandoned. Fanatic devotees clung to hope, praying fervently that one day, their god would remember them. They believed that with enough faith and persistent prayer, they would draw the attention of their deity.

The legend on Surina Island lasted for hundreds of years, with rituals held repeatedly. This time, they finally received a visit from their Mother Goddess, the Thousand-Faced Moon.

Recalling the deep-sea celebration, Yue Yin smiled. “Followers are such adorable beings.”

As she spoke, her voice carried a rare warmth and nostalgia.

Her hair flowed around her, skin pale, features delicate yet enchanting, her gaze both detached and affectionate, so captivating that Jiang Suliu couldn’t look away.

In that moment, Jiang Suliu understood how fortunate he was.

She was the great Thousand-Faced Moon, beloved by countless devoted followers, and he was but a speck in her gaze.

Yet, among all those followers, the Thousand-Faced Moon had chosen him, granting him the honor of witnessing her splendor.

Suppressing his excitement, he said calmly, “Things went better than expected. If Surina has descendants of the Secret Order, then other places must also have followers of the Moon Cult…”

In the past, he’d thought himself the sole believer in the Moon Cult, with only mockery to accompany him online. Yue Yin had once tried recruiting Shen Xiaodi, only to be met with disdain, calling the idea childish.

Now, things were different. It turned out there were so many others who silently revered Yue Yin, even some filled with malevolent intities.

It was like finding out he had comrades when he’d thought he was alone. Jiang Suliu felt reassured, as though spreading the faith would no longer be a challenge.

Amidst his surging emotions, Yue Yin casually remarked, “Well, of course! I am the great Thousand-Faced Moon. Of course, there are many who believe in me…”

She paused, furrowing her brow as if realizing something. “Wait, I forgot to collect a membership fee!”

Jiang Suliu froze, not comprehending at first.

Yue Yin clutched her chest, aghast. “Wow, with all those people on Surina, if I charged each 9,998… I’d be rich!”

There were thousands on the island, most descended from the Secret Order. With each paying her 998, she could instantly become a millionaire!

Yue Yin suddenly felt a pang of regret for missing out on such wealth.

Lost in melancholy over the fortune missed, Yue Yin left Jiang Suliu at a loss for words.

She didn’t wait for him to respond. Clutching her chest, she feigned a moment of pain, then suddenly produced a fistful of gold from her pocket, joyfully laying it on the table to count.

Rubbing her hands together, she chuckled, “Good thing I remembered to sneak, oops, I mean retrieve some funds before leaving.” After all, as the Thousand-Faced Moon, it was hardly stealing if she took back from her believers.

Jiang Suliu: “…”