Chapter 2608: Xiao Xiao Descending (57)

Shiller nodded and wasn't too surprised; actually, he had wondered before why a transnational drug trafficking organization would want all members to have the same tattoo. Wasn't that essentially like committing crimes with real-name registration?

If they had only been trafficking drugs before, it would have been one thing, but now it was clear they wanted to lie low in a certain city, and at such a time, these overly unique tattoos with a strong Mexican national flavor became akin to an agent wearing his ID card around his neck.

But if it wasn't the tattoo they wanted, then that explained it, darting about the Dakotazo and running wild in Gotham City; it was very likely they were trying to find a way to get rid of the tattoo.

"What can the curse of the Ancestral God do?"

"They won't die immediately, but they will eventually die, and it will be a terrible death," Martin said, twisting his mouth. "The manner of death is not fixed, but it will certainly be very brutal, and nobody can escape it."

Shiller nodded, anyhow, all the members of the Penitent Cartel he knew had died horribly.

"They've been desperate for a while, knowing that the key to lifting the curse was with me, so they went crazy looking for me in Guazhou. Back then, I was young, not enough people had been sacrificed, and I didn't have the strong power my mother had, so I could only try to hide."

"But one time I slipped up and they nearly killed me after tracking me to my hiding place. The Revolutionary Army saved me."

"Not to hide it from you, my mom used to have some contacts with the local drug lord," Martin shrugged. "Anyway, the drug lord would kidnap his enemies, and my mom offered them to the Ancestral God. The drug lord quietly dealt with his foes, and my mom got power."

"But I definitely didn't tell the Revolutionary Army that part. Back then I thought they were just playing under the guise of justice. If they knew what I had done, they would have shot me first."

"You had already performed sacrifices by that time, hadn't you?"

"Of course, not every member of the Penitent Cartel was skilled. Haven't you already seen the fools among them? Since it's all death anyway, might as well exchange it for some power."

"What changed you?"

"It's not so much a change, really; I've always thought this way. It's probably because I'm different from most villagers; I went to the city, studied, and had pretty good grades. If it hadn't been for what happened, I might have been able to get into a university."

"I've always thought those villagers were stupid, every village was stupid. Those drug lords only knew how to throw their weight around on their turf and never thought about uniting."

"They toiled all year and gave most of their money to those lazy masters above them. If they united, with people and guns on their side, why would they need to pay anyone else?"

"So I really liked what the Revolutionary Army was doing. I didn't care if they were growing food or drugs; they made sure that those who didn't work wouldn't get paid, and you'd earn as much as you worked for. I think that's the greatest justice in the world, isn't it?"

Looking into Martin's bright eyes, Shiller knew he was a very smart man, who didn't even need any theories to enlighten him; he could derive a set of simple awakening theories from the patterns of life himself.

You couldn't say his theory was too simple or imperfect, because when those complex theories are summed up, they come down to this same principle. How is distribution according to work not communism?

"Plus, they were really good to me," Martin thought for a moment before saying. "They said they could help me come to America, but they didn't want me to work anymore. If possible, they wanted to help me pay for my education."

"Then why didn't you study?"

"To be honest, I'm not quite used to owing others, and besides, once you're in America, where can't you make money? The land here is paved with gold."

Shiller smiled and looked at him, "That may be true for you, but the Penitent Cartel still found you."

"Yeah, after all, Mexico isn't just inhabited by my mother the witch, the Penitent Cartel's reach is not small, they can always find someone in the know."

"I guess they got a colleague of my mom's to come up with a way to track my movements."

"So that's why you gave me the crystal ball, it looks like you wanted its power to protect me, but really, it was just to draw the drug traffickers chasing you to me."

"But you were already looking for them, right? This is the way I provide intelligence to you, you don't even have to go find them, they come to you. Don't I deserve some kind of bonus?"

Shiller found himself growing more fond of this quick-witted young man, who possessed a strange vitality about him, seeming even more Gotham than the youths of Gotham.

"They've been after you all this time, what are you planning to do?"

"I've sacrificed quite a few people, the Ancestral God has been generous, the power he has bestowed upon me is enough to deal with them. Moreover, he was especially pleased with this sacrifice. If he could speak English, he would probably praise you as a great artist."

Shiller's smile deepened, clearly enjoying such flattery. He said, "I think you're complimenting yourself through me. Although I'm responsible for the skinning and stitching, those Day of the Dead patterns were designed by you. I think you could go and study art."

"That's what I've been thinking," Martin immediately lit up with excitement, saying, "The tuition at Gotham University is too expensive, I'm planning on going to a community college. What do you think about the sculpture department?"

Shiller shook his head, but before Martin could show any disappointment, Shiller added, "It's not about community college, the art department at Gotham University is actually not that great either. Or rather, America is a desert of traditional arts."

"By comparison, there's an art institute in a country that might suit you better, but it depends on whether you're afraid of the cold."

Martin was suddenly stunned, his thoughts racing. The dart took hundreds of turns yet still hit the bullseye. He slowly began to speak, "I haven't asked what your relationship with the Revolutionary Army is..."

"What's your guess?" Shiller revealed a mysterious smile.

Martin didn't need to guess; he could tell from Shiller's face.

He stood up from the sofa, displaying a forced grin baring several large teeth and hurriedly placed the mask on the coffee table in front of him, saying, "I'm sorry for disturbing you so late, and it's getting late... Maybe I should just..."

With a whoosh, a flash of black and purple power sped by, and Martin's figure instantly appeared at the front door. But with a bang, the door slammed shut.

Martin almost got his nose caught. He stiffened, turned around, leaned back against the door and said, "Professor, I'm not one of you, let's just part ways here. How's that?"

"Oh, and who am I, according to you?"

"Aren't you with the Revolutionary Army... I mean, the Bolsheviks?"

Shiller waved him over, signaling for him to sit down again. Martin pushed the door with no response, he wanted to tap into the power of the Ancestral God, but the Ancestral God did not respond either.

And not long before, Martin had just watched the man in front of him skillfully peel off a nearly complete human skin, and stuffed another living person inside.

Martin decisively went over and sat down.

Shiller took out a business card from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table, then pushed it towards Martin, saying, "Let me reintroduce myself, Director of the KGB Eleventh Bureau, Schiller Rodriguez."

Martin's face instantly twisted into a bunch.

"Director... Director, good day."

"I think you should first hear about the benefits," Shiller said, "Your assets in America and Mexico will remain untouched, but I can introduce you to the Repin Institute of Arts, where you could complete all your studies from undergraduate to PhD."

"During that period, you won't have any assignments, you only need to concentrate on your studies, and you might occasionally need to help your hometown with some minor troubles, but you won't have to leave."

"I can't do this job..." Martin said with a worried frown, "I'm really not cut out to be an agent, Director."

"But I've heard people call you a jack-of-all-trades."

"That's all trivial stuff."

"I'm not expecting you to do anything big."

Martin's eyes darted around, then he suddenly remembered, "Oh, right, I've heard you people abide by materialism, don't you? But I have faith, I am particularly steadfast in my belief in the Ancestral God..."

"Do you know what the Eleventh Bureau does?"

"Uh, what does it do?"

"It's responsible for all the magic affairs of the Soviet Union."

"Soviet magic... magic affairs?!!"

Martin felt his worldview collapsing.

"If you read more, you should understand that so-called materialism isn't solely about scientific theoretical dogma, nor is it about nihilism. Any existing thing can be studied, what's so strange about that?"

Martin still found it hard to accept, and his expression changed and changed again, all his features squeezing together.

"Currently, the Bureau doesn't have a magician versed in the native Mexican beliefs, and we are not particularly familiar with this area, but I imagine, the Ancestral God is not easy to deal with, right?"

The expression on Martin's face slowly changed, he dropped his playful demeanor and cautiously sized up Shiller, saying, "It seems you are quite familiar with such beliefs."

Shiller nodded.

"Alright, everything comes with a price," Martin said. "The power of the Ancestral God is already very strong, and it doesn't require sacrificing ourselves, only others. But as with every curse it bestows, all who use it will die a horrible death before the age of 38."

"Then you don't have much time left."

"Cut it out, I'm still young," Martin said, although he couldn't help but show a worried expression. He continued, "My mother tried many ways to escape this curse, which was the main reason she took me and left our hometown. But in the end, she couldn't escape it."

"Then I assume you wouldn't mind us studying it."

"But the Ancestral God is very powerful, you must prove you have the capability..."

Shiller stood up, and Martin watched him open the freezer compartment of the refrigerator, which was no longer functioning, so both the freezer and the cooler were the same. Shiller was moving the previously frozen ice packs into the cooler compartment to maintain the last bit of freshness.

He took out a bag of meat.

Martin's crystal started shaking violently in his hand; he almost couldn't hold onto it, gripping it tightly and pressing it down, but the crystal still flew up into the air.

With a bang, it shattered against the wall.

Martin was dumbfounded.

He rushed towards where the crystal had shattered, right next to the fridge, and he watched in disbelief as Shiller took out a hoof.

"Come have some supper," Shiller said. "What flavor do you like?"

Martin swallowed hard.

"Supper? Is it that or me?"

Martin asked himself, for he had already seen the broken, flickering demon shadow above the hoof.

"Of course, it's that," Shiller said, looking at the hoof that Aisha had cooked during the day but hadn't eaten, "It used to be a strong deer."

"Strong... indeed, indeed strong."

"What does the Ancestral God say?"

"He says he has been frail since he was young."