62. What If

Seated on the living room's long sofa was Hobart, an elderly man with graying temples, dressed in a casual black suit. His right hand tightly gripped an unusual "cane" covered in bizarre, dark-red symbols.

"You've arrived," he said in a deep voice, scanning Marr and Hu Weifeng standing at the entrance. "I didn't expect anyone to still be interested in my knowledge. Care for some tea?"

He gestured toward two exquisite porcelain cups prepared on the table before him.

Hu Weifeng gave a slight nod and was the first to walk over, taking a seat on the sofa opposite him. "Thank you, but no need."

Marr followed and sat down as well, observing the gentle and refined old man across from him. Hobart had been born in the Western Federation, and his "work" prior to retirement had taken place there as well, which was why he had neither enemies nor friends in this place—both of which were perilous for a retired hell cultist.

Hobart did not force them to drink the black tea laced with chronic poison; setting out the porcelain cups was merely a gesture of professional courtesy, with no real expectation that they would actually drink it.

Had it not been for this assignment, he would have actually quite enjoyed exchanging knowledge with a younger generation. However, since they were paying him, doing a bit of work for the politicians offering him sanctuary was hardly difficult.

Moreover, if he were to turn them away, Hobart would offend not only the politicians providing his shelter but also arouse the dissatisfaction of his former colleagues—and he knew very well what kind of bastards his former colleagues were.

After all, he used to be one of them.

Gazing at them, Hobart asked, "What is it you are looking for me to find out?"

Regardless of what he said, these Coordination Bureau employees would never be able to carry this knowledge back out. Therefore, he intended to fully satisfy their demands, allowing them to be buried alongside the knowledge.

It was a blissful way to die.

Hu Weifeng asked, "We want your help to figure out what these hell cultists are doing, which demon they are summoning, and how we can stop it. Don't worry, once you're finished, Marr will erase this memory so those cultists won't be able to find you."

They were right upstairs, after all.

Hobart said, "Actually, I can guess what they're up to without even looking. Among the participants, there are both devil and demon cultists, right? Normally, we are sworn enemies, but an仪式 that allows us to join forces, combined with the various phenomena I've observed these past few days... I can tell you with certainty..."

"They are building a Gate of Hell."

In reality, however, Hobart had just deduced this answer because the masterminds were right here.

Hu Weifeng asked, "A Gate of Hell?"

Hobart explained, "You've seen rituals for summoning demons and devils, haven't you? A Gate of Hell is a special type. Rather than a summoning ritual, a more accurate description would be a portal."

"Once a Gate of Hell is constructed, it can briefly connect Hell to reality. Whether devils or demons, avatars or true forms, they can all descend into the mortal realm through the Gate of Hell. According to my estimation, what they are trying to manufacture is a Tier IV portal."

"But it won't be just one or two Arch-avatars coming to reality; after all, this is the masterpiece of five secret cults. Therefore, there will be at least five Tier IV avatars appearing, and if they are avatars of high-tier demons, they will be slightly stronger than other Tier IVs."

"Of course, if that Director of yours were to make a trip here, he could certainly scare all of them back to Hell."

In the end, he even made a lighthearted jab at Qin Luan.

Hu Weifeng said, "Can you help us find the exact location of those hell cultists? We can provide you with..."

Before he could finish, Hobart shook his head.

"I am retired. Can you understand the significance of that? In fact, a hell cultist's retirement means no longer engaging in any criminal activities, but that doesn't mean we no longer have faith."

"We worship a special Arch-devil whom you call the Recluse, and his doctrine advocates that we no longer entangle ourselves in worldly conflicts. If I were to help you, I would be breaking the doctrine I adhere to."

The existence of this doctrine was true, but cultists who worshipped the Recluses did not view it as any sort of ultimate truth.

Right now, he was actively helping those devil cultists deal with Marr and Hu Weifeng.

Marr spoke up before Hu Weifeng could open his mouth: "Then can you give us the knowledge on how to find the Gate of Hell?"

Hobart pondered, "Perhaps I could. But this is quite complex knowledge that requires over a dozen years of study to master. The two of you alone certainly have no way of learning it."

Marr asked curiously, "Are you sure there are only two of us here?"

Hobart smiled and said, "Of course. I possess powerful spiritual perception, which is precisely why I converted to the Recluse faction fifteen years ago. Furthermore, what do you think this room is? It is a powerful magical ritual I've crafted over the years. If you hadn't come according to my conditions, I would have sensed it long ago."

Indeed, he had also stipulated conditions such as bringing no eavesdropping devices, with the sole purpose of keeping everything that happened inside this room contained within it, ensuring it could under no circumstances leak out.

Huang Qingfeng had promised that after Marr and Hu Weifeng were taken away, he could continue living his life as usual.

"Very well." Marr looked at Hu Weifeng. "I'd like to ask about some rather personal matters. It might take a little time. Is that alright?"

Hu Weifeng was momentarily stunned.

If Marr wanted to ask something, why hadn't he mentioned it beforehand?

Yet he harbored no suspicion about it: "Of course, as long as it doesn't delay official business."

Hobart smiled and said, "If your colleague has no objections, I am naturally more than happy to answer a young man's questions. Ask away."

He was also waiting for the devil cultists upstairs to prepare their ritual.

Marr nodded. "I want to know what on earth angels are, and what the relationship is between the demons and devils you worship and them?"

Hu Weifeng looked at Marr in astonishment; he had not expected the other man to ask about such things. This hardly felt like a question born of mere curiosity.

Hobart was also slightly taken aback.

"I didn't expect young people to still care about this nowadays," Hobart said, narrowing his eyes. "Have you seen them?"

Marr nodded. "That's right."

Hobart wore an "I knew it" expression.

"When I was young, I used to think I was a villain from the movies, a scoundrel who made mortals tremble. That's why I worshipped demons so frantically—it made me feel filled with evil power."

"But upon learning the truth, I chose to join the Recluse faction because I realized then that I wasn't a true bad guy at all, and my past life and pursuits were entirely meaningless."

"Do you find it laughable? What we are actually opposing is an existence far more evil and terrifying than any Arch-demon of Hell."

"The so-called angels carry a special invisibility spell upon themselves. As long as a qualified mortal can see them, guess what the standard is?"

Marr narrowed his eyes and asked, "Souls that can burn?"

Hobart gave Marr a smile, though it carried a hint of pity.

"Exactly. That is what they are doing—hunting mortals to feed the flames of Heaven so they continue to burn. You are truly lucky to have survived after seeing them."

Unfortunately, his good luck had already abandoned him.

Marr was just about to ask the most crucial question: "Suppose..."

At that exact moment, however, Hobart abruptly interrupted him:

"I truly wish this conversation wasn't taking place under these circumstances. But when all is said and done, ha, I am still a demon cultist. Forgive me, you two, and they are paying..."

He wore the evil smile he used to sport in his youth.

"So you need to die."