48 Hours a Day

“Well, I’ve killed a similar guy before, and I don’t mind adding another name to the list,” replied Zhang Heng. “Are you referring to Pestilence from the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Did you kill him? How is that possible?!”

Justitia’s expression finally changed.

“If you tell me you killed other gods, I would have an easier time believing you. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse come from hell. No mortal can cause them any harm. Have a Grade-B or higher grade item that helped you restrain him?”

“You will soon find out the answer to that.”

Zhang Heng didn’t just stand there and wait for his opponent to take the first shot this time. Justitia’s strength was probably higher than Pestilence, where she had demonstrated her ability to allow bullets to pass through her. It almost looked like she was hacking life itself. Zhang Heng knew that this time, he had to be cautious.

He rarely struck first, but the Nepalese saber slashed an arc in the air, slicing directly into the goddess of justice’s chest. In Roman mythology, detailed descriptions of Justitia’s appearance and priesthood were recorded. However, her battle records were blank. It certainly didn’t mean Zhang Heng took his opponent’s sword for a display piece. On her other hand, the scale was there to measure good and evil, and after she looked at it, it was time she executed judgment with her sword. She was neither the god of blacksmiths, nor was she a war goddess like Venus. The best thing Zhang Heng could right now was to end the battle before she could attack him. This time, he went all out.

He had no intention to drag the battle.

On the other hand, Justitia stopped relying on her ability to resist damage. She was even swifter than him, but after sizing up her agility, Zhang Heng breathed a sigh of relief. Her movement speed was still within human limits, and he could make up for it with his Lv3 saber skill.

Including the battle with Pestilence at the hospital, this was the second time he fought against a god. Zhang Heng also discovered some secrets, where there was a big difference in physical strength between different gods. In fact, some gods were no stronger than a mortal. Of course, each had their own bespoke ability. In a way, they were like enhanced versions of the agent.

Gods were different from the players-as long as a player completed a quest, they would grow to become better. Meanwhile, the strength of the celestial beings was more uncertain, fluctuating over time. As for ancient gods, especially those born ages ago, their strength had dropped drastically. Just like Black Sail’s ancient Celtic god, there was no news about her at all after the quest was completed. Zhang Heng even suspected that she must be dead.

The gods that were still alive had also contracted human diseases, such as the old man in the Tang suit, who loved sweets so much he got diabetes. Even Pestilence’s phone held many contacts of medical representatives

– He even had an appointment with the hospital’s chairman to play tennis on Saturday. Ironically, it seemed that a god was interested in improving his health.

As they quietly thrived among the mortals, few could actually tell the difference between them and the regular neighbors. Of course, when they decided a display of powers was in order, people would surely remember the legends tied to these beings. Justitia must have been working in the courthouse for a long time now, and her muscles hadn’t been oiled much. Nonetheless, she managed to escape most of Zhang Heng’s attacks with only her bare feet. After the battle with Zhang Heng ensued for a while, she retreated to the corridor’s end.

Justitia frowned, finally drawing out the sword on her waist.

“Condemnation!”

Justitia chuckled softly, and a ball of golden holy light appeared on the sword. Before he knew it, Zhang Heng’s blade collided with the sword.

The next second, Zhang Heng discovered that he had already left the small hotel’s corridor and was now standing on a grass patch. Justitia was nowhere to be found.

Had it all been an illusion?

As Zhang Heng’s eyes fell upon a person not far away from him, he immediately retracted that thought.

“Are you the one that messed with me?”

The Tang suited elderly uncle had a straw hat and rubber shoes on, looking as if he was going fishing. Half a year had passed since they last met.

He sneezed as a cold gust of wind blew, complaining, “You think I wanted to do that? Why did you provoke that woman? If I didn’t stop the time and bring you out, you would have been killed!”

Zhang Heng raised his eyebrows. “I would have been killed by her?”

“Well, it’s possible you are powerful enough to kill her. But what’s the point? It’s the 21st century now. The Second World War has ended for more than 70 years. Don’t bring yourself down by talking about killing all the time. What she does has nothing to do with you.”

“I owe Shen Xixi and her team a favor,” said Zhang Heng.

The old man opened a bag of QQ candies and poured a whole bunch of them into his mouth, “They can’t die anyway. You can make her pay next time.”

“These have nothing to do with you. Why so worried?” asked Zhang Heng, his eyes darting around his surroundings curiously, trying hard to determine where he was. Almost all grasslands looked the same at night. And not a soul was in sight, which wasn’t good news.

“Stop looking around. We are on a dam now,” said the old man in the Tang suit with a shrug. “When you go back, the battle over there should be over. Also, you are my agent. Of course, I have to take care of you.”

The old man made it sound reasonable, but Zhang Heng didn’t appear to appreciate the gesture very much. He had become increasingly suspicious of him ever since he discovered that his parents and the old man knew each other for a long time. 17 years ago, they were all in the same expedition, and it was very likely that he had seen him at that time.

Whatever Zhang Heng was investigating most likely had a lot to do with the old man. Zhang Heng was wary of him when they first met but he didn’t ask much. The old man in the Tang suit seemed unaware of it and complained about the mosquitoes in the grassland.

Zhang Heng ignored him and walked to the Volvo nearby, the car that the old man must have driven him here with. When the fuel tank was checked, he found out it to be devoid of gas.

“The nearest homestay is 20 kilometers away,” the old man kindly reminded Zhang Heng.

Zhang Heng was a little speechless. “Then how are you going back?”

“I have called backup to come and get me in about two hours. Want to come with me?”