Stirling stared at the crimson statue before him, momentarily dazed.

  Lance actually possessed a complete crimson statue!

  "Master, I've already used most of the yearning malice inside. It's truly a pity your servant met you so late..." Lance cautiously said, observing Stirling's expression.

  "It's alright. Pack it in a wood box." Stirling waved his hand, giving the order.

  Although Lance was now under his control, Stirling wouldn't reveal his ability to refine Malice. He must prepare to prevent Lance from being captured and then having a memory searched, thus uncovering his most crucial secret.

  Although Stirling was not sure of the existence of such a memory-searching technique in this world.

  "Follow your orders, Master." Lance said.

  "Wait, do you have anything else here with malice?" Stirling asked.

  "Your servant also has a longsword forged with malice, a masterpiece," Lance said hastily.

  "Pack it up and take it with you."

  "As you will."

  "Wait, do you have any silver coins? What about the hematopoietic pill?"

  "Your servant has three hundred silver coins. As for the hematopoietic pill, Master, that's only useful to Samurai; our worshippers have no need for it." Lance looked distressed.

  "Take the silver coins with you too. Not bad, little Lance," Stirling patted Lance on the shoulder, then wandered around the large room. After looking around, Stirling found nothing valuable. So he sat down in the leather chair in the hall and continued, "Little Lance, I heard you're in charge of the Yearning Malice in Farfield City?"

  Lance took small steps behind, placing his hands naturally on Stirling's shoulders, about to give him a massage when Stirling slapped his hands away.

  "Speak only, don't touch me!" Stirling said irritably.

  "Apologize, Master. I will be careful next time." Lance glanced at Stirling fearfully, then said,

  "Master, I am in charge of the Yearning Malice in Farfield City. What can I do for you, Master?" Lance asked.

  "It's simple. Take me closer to the source of the malice. I am doing an investigation," Stirling said.

  "This, this is easy. It's just a minor inconvenience, Master, to act as my attendant and go with me into the formation."

  Stirling was full of overjoy, but outwardly remained composed, continuing, "When can we go?"

  "Master, we can only enter once a month on the first day. We already went at the beginning of this month. If you want to go, you'll have to wait until next month," Lance replied.

  "Good! Let me know before you enter next time," Stirling said, then stood up, clearly intending to leave.

  Lance quickly packed everything Stirling wanted, placing them in Stirling's hands. "Master, please take care. Is there anything else you need? Should we arrange for a few maids to take care of you? Without your servants, it will be inconvenient."

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Never mind!" Stirling considered for a moment, then refused Lance's offer. Living alone was entirely to keep his secret; with more people around, it was easy to be discovered.

  "Remember, don't reveal our relationship to anyone in the future. Don't see me off; I can go out by myself." Stirling suddenly remembered something, gave Lance a few more instructions, then picked up the offerings from Lance, pushed open the door, and went out.

  Before leaving, Stirling took the flashbang that was placed on the door latch. Although the trip had gone smoothly, he still needed to take it.

  Stirling carried the things out of the manor. Seeing the flowers, insects, and fish in the courtyard again, he felt a strange sense of familiarity compared to when he had arrived.

  Upon reaching the manor gate, a carriage was already waiting. Stirling opened the carriage door and got in. The carriage then slowly drove away.

  That night, Stirling sat at the table inside the house, looking at the blood-color statue before him, rubbing his hands together vigorously, then placing his palms on the statue's head.

  The next moment, Stirling activated the Malice-Converting Technique, immediately feeling a burning sensation in his palm. Then, lines of updates appeared in Stirling's vision.

  [You refined a trace of Yearning Malice, lifespan +1 day]

  [You refined a trace of Yearning Malice, lifespan +1 day]

  [You refined a trace of Yearning Malice, lifespan +1 day]

  …

  Watching the rapidly scrolling notifications, Stirling felt an overwhelming sense of conviction. Controlling Lance was definitely the right decision, and he nearly burst into wild laughter.

  Stirling absorbed the malice for three hours. Then, the crimson statue dissolved into a cloud of white powder on the table.

  Only 12 years? Although he was prepared, Stirling was still disappointed.

  Stirling estimates that this crimson statue should have given him at least thirty to forty years of lifespan. But unexpectedly, Lance had already used most of it, granting him only 12 years.

  Stirling curled her lip, then took out the longsword, drew it, and inspected it.

  In the dim light, the longsword still emitted a chilling gleam, and the wisps of malice emanating from it added to its extraordinary nature.

  It was rumored that weapons forged from Malice possessed an inherently sinister effect.

  Lance's longsword was clearly forged with Yearning Malice. Stirling guessed that being stabbed by this substance would feel like being pierced by Yearning Malice. In either case, one might instantly lose their composure and succumb to overwhelming lust.

  These demons certainly know how to play games.

  Stirling narrowed his eyes and grasped the longsword between two fingers. He circulated the Malice-Converting Technique again.

  At that moment, Stirling discovered that the longsword in his hand was trembling violently, as if resisting something, but all its efforts were in vain. The familiar notification appeared in his vision the next instant:

  [You have refined a trace of Yearning Malice, lifespan +3 days]

  [You have refined a trace of Yearning Malice, lifespan +3 days]

  …

  This time, only a short while later, no more notifications appeared in Stirling's eyes. Unlike the statue, the longsword in his hand hadn't turned to dust; only some fine cracks appeared on its blade.

  Stirling looked at the longsword in his hand, then applied a slight force, and the longsword instantly shattered into countless tiny fragments that fell onto the table.

  Immediately afterwards, Stirling took out his pack, swept the sword fragments and hilt into his sleeve, and prepared to throw them into the ash pit the next day.

  In four hours, Stirling gained approximately 17 years of lifespan, rebounding from his original 3 years to around 20 years.

  Stroking his chin, Stirling then took out a Blood Force Pill and continued his intensive training for the evening.

  Meanwhile, underground in the city government office.

  Monk Sahaya stood before an array intricately carved with patterns, gazing at the azure statue at its core, his hands clasped in prayer, his face expressionless.

  Behind him stood a bald monk, dressed identically to him, clearly from the same Vajra Temple.

  "Senior, will we be able to successfully infiltrate Malice today?"

  Monk Sahaya looked at the azure Buddha statue before him and calmly replied:

  "Don't worry, Junior. A few days ago, I used Pathos Malice to distract the Yearning Palace, and I've already fixed this new statue to the Yearning Palace's Grand Array."

  "Today, we'll see the work."

  His junior, Monk Prana, looked at the grand array before him and clasped his hands together:

  "After refining the first Fetal Mother Flesh Infant Pill and handing it to Hoffmann, Senior, are you sure that you can guide the Buddha to descend?"

  Sahaya turned to look at the cauldron beside him, which was burning with raging flames, and said, "Once Hoffmann converts to the Buddha, the entire city will be saved."

  "No matter how powerful the Yearning Palace is here, it cannot stop the coming results."

  "The city will welcome our Buddha and meet great liberation."