Chapter 208: The God of Death's Fury

Chapter 208: The God of Death's Fury

After determining that Interconnected Film posed no threat to the Opera House's status, the God of Death shifted his focus to internal affairs.

Yet, as time passed, the influx of Source Essence dwindled.

At first, the God of Death paid little attention, assuming it was merely the novelty of Interconnected Film causing a temporary disruption.

But when the decline persisted even after nightfall, he realized something was amiss.

As the master of the Dark Web, he had long observed that the rate at which the Dark Web harvested Source Essence was not constant but fluctuated in waves.

Nighttime was typically the peak period for Source Essence collection.

Presumably, most users, having finished their daily work, finally had time to themselves and naturally turned to the internet for entertainment.

Yet, during this peak period, his Source Essence was dropping instead of rising?

How could there not be a problem?

A thought flashed through the God of Death's mind, and instinctively, he activated Divine Perspective, casting his gaze across the various domains.

First, he instinctively turned his attention to the Burnier Domain.

This was the preaching zone of the God of Transformation—one of the God of Death's covert targets.

Lately, he had been observing and even infiltrating the Burnier Domain.

Through a Dark Web user currently learning the undead summoning technique, he swiftly expanded his Divine Perspective, broadening his view to encompass the entire city.

This method of observation was something he would never have used before—it consumed far too much Source Essence.

But now, he could afford it.

Because he was the master of the Dark Web.

In his bird's-eye view, the isolated little city had already quieted under the cover of night.

Torches flickered along the city walls, warding off the beasts of the forest.

At the city's center, a massive Scales Statue faintly emanated an aura of divine power imperceptible to ordinary mortals.

A city like this, at night, should have been shrouded in darkness, save for the occasional flicker of light.

Yet when the God of Death looked, the entire city was aglow with faint luminescence—even the shanties leaning against the city walls emitted flickering light.

Adjusting his perspective, the God of Death peered through the rooftops—and suddenly froze.

Inside a dilapidated shack, several beggars huddled together, shivering, as a pot of gruel-like food—scavenged from who-knows-where—simmered before them.

These beggars, who should have been fixated on the food, were instead staring blankly at a virtual screen in front of them.

On the screen, the image of Princess Hedi appeared, and the beggars' faces twisted with greed and madness.

Just as the God of Death observed, the virtual screen abruptly went dark.

The beggars erupted in curses and complaints.

"Hurry up! Why did it cut off at the best part?"

"Who's next?"

"Me, me!"

Amid their clamoring, the virtual screen flickered back to life, and the beggars finally quieted down.

As it turned out, chronic malnutrition had not only left their bodies frail but also weakened their souls.

Having already expended a great deal of Soul Power browsing the internet during the day, they now faced the awkward predicament of not having enough left for the night.

So they resorted to "shared viewing."

This act—squeezing out the last dregs of their already-depleted Soul Power—left the God of Death stunned, his pupils trembling faintly.

Shifting his gaze, he turned to a nearby residential home.

A family of five lived there.

On a dilapidated wooden board that could barely be called a bed, a family of five huddled together under a blanket, watching intently!

A little girl, no more than eight or nine years old, was clearly terrified by the kaleidoscopic scenes unfolding in the movie. She clung tightly to her father’s lap, burying her face in his chest whenever the music turned eerie.

Her two older brothers, however, were far braver. Their eyes were wide, absorbing every detail, their bodies tense with excitement as they followed the plot. The flickering glow of the film cast sharp contrasts on their faces, making their expressions all the more vivid.

"That dragon is so evil! Why did it kidnap the beautiful princess?" the little girl blurted out.

"Shh! Don’t talk—watch first!" her brother immediately hushed her.

The girl fell silent, but the hatred and disgust for the undead bone dragon were unmistakable in her young eyes.

Watching this, the God of Death trembled uncontrollably.

It wasn’t the girl’s words that angered him—it was the sheer allure of this damned movie!

Unwilling to accept it, he shifted his gaze, scanning room after room in the city. To his shock, he realized that most households were watching the same thing!

Some were even wiping away tears as they watched.

Soldiers on night duty at the city walls, unable to watch themselves, were passionately discussing the film.

The absurdity of the scene struck the God of Death like a bolt of lightning!

Furious, he tore his vision away and turned to other domains.

Was it the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, or was he just seeing things?

The more he looked, the more enraged he became—other domains were no different from Burnier Domain.

Amid the sea of lit windows, at least one in every three or five households was watching.

In taverns that never closed, the main topic of conversation was still the same!

As for his own offerings? Almost no one was watching.

A nameless fury surged in the God of Death’s heart. What was so great about this trashy drama?

It was riddled with plot holes from start to finish!

The whole thing was like a circus act!

Why were they so utterly spellbound?

Why were they even willing to squeeze out their last drop of Source Essence for it?

"Huff… huff…"

The God of Death couldn’t understand it—and that only made him angrier!

He was furious that the Internet God had outmaneuvered him again, furious that his judgment had been wrong, and most of all, furious that the Opera House had lost to Interconnected Film!

It shattered his pride and confidence!

"It must be novelty! Yes, that’s the only explanation!"

Gritting his teeth, the God of Death released one of his stored operas—a backup he had prepared long ago.

His original plan had been to counter any plagiarism by the Internet God, releasing them one by one to always stay ahead and secure absolute dominance.

Now, he had no choice but to play this trump card.

Sure enough, as soon as the opera was released, the influx of Source Essence surged dramatically.

"I knew it! It’s just novelty!"

The God of Death exhaled in relief, ashamed of his earlier outburst.

But before he could fully relax, the surge of Source Essence abruptly plummeted again.

"What’s going on?!"

His face twisted in disbelief. After a long pause, he clenched his jaw and released another opera.

Not long after, the Source Essence surged once more, but the magnitude of the surge was nowhere near what it had been before.

This time, it didn’t take long for it to plummet again.

The God of Death was dumbfounded, his face ashen.

Gritting his teeth, he released one stored opera after another.

Yet the rate at which the Source Essence surged grew slower and slower. Eventually, no matter how many new operas he released, the efficiency of Source Essence absorption refused to rise.

The God of Death stood frozen.

How could this be?

This shouldn’t be happening!

Frantically, he observed the users through his Divine Perspective.

But no matter how many domains he switched to, most of the intelligent beings across them were watching Interconnected Film, completely ignoring his Opera House.

When he unwillingly turned his gaze to his own preaching zones, the sight that greeted him sent him into a fit of rage.

There, curled up in a fur blanket, lay Edwina, the star performer of the Lambert Royal Opera House, seemingly fast asleep.

But the tear tracks at the corners of her eyes and the faint trembling of her lashes betrayed her feigned slumber.

At first glance, it seemed normal—perhaps just a woman overwhelmed by emotions in the dead of night.

But Sawyer, the God of Death, could distinctly sense the presence of the internet emanating from her.

It was worth noting that the soul-projection mode of the internet shared nearly the same Binding authority over souls as his own.

The God of Death couldn’t comprehend why the exclusivity of his Divine Spark Authority had failed.

He couldn’t interfere with the internet’s soul authority, but he could detect its presence.

In other words, this damned lamb of his had violated his decree and secretly logged onto the internet!

Judging by her appearance, she was probably watching that very thing.

—Throughout the night’s observations, the God of Death had seen not just women, but even men, shedding tears over that idiotic drama.

"Deserves to die!"

The God of Death erupted in fury, instantly teleporting into Edwina’s bedroom and unleashing Living Soul Deprivation!

In an instant, Edwina, caught completely off guard, had her soul violently ripped from her body.

Even in death, her physical form still bore the traces of "moved" tears.

"Were you watching it?"

Standing beside the bed, the God of Death coldly questioned Edwina’s terrified, struggling soul.

Edwina froze at his words.

The next second, she suddenly dropped to her knees, desperately begging for mercy.

"I’m guilty! I’m guilty! Please forgive me, my lord! I-I shouldn’t have disobeyed the decree—it was that damned internet that bewitched me! Please, spare me!"

"Too late!"

The God of Death instinctively prepared to crush her feeble soul.

But then Edwina suddenly screamed, "You can’t kill me! I’m Edwina, the most celebrated star of the Dark Web! The great God of Death needs me! If you dare kill me, the great God of Death will never let you go!"

The God of Death’s expression twisted in shock.

Then, overcome with fury, he burst into laughter. He stared coldly at Edwina and sneered, "I am the God of Death!"

Edwina’s face instantly stiffened.

All her faith collapsed in that moment.

And so did her fragile soul.

—In the end, the enraged God of Death crushed her like an ant.

Standing coldly in Edwina’s bedroom, the God of Death lowered his head, gazing at the lifeless beauty sprawled across the bed.

"Kekeke…"

After a long pause, a deranged, eerie laughter slowly escaped his lips.

"Internet God, very well! Very well! You're a genius, I admit it. Since that's the case, I'll just copy everything you've done! I'll take your users for myself! Hahaha..."

"Just wait! Once I use the Fifth Calamity to unify the multiverse, let's see who dares to use the internet again?!"