The shattered body of the Thousand-Eyed Tyrant had turned into puddles of purple ichor, but its soul, unwilling to dissipate, still hovered in mid-air like a ball of violently burning purple ghost fire, emitting sharp screeches.

  The Slayer stood to the side, looking down and cleaning the shredded meat from the crevices of his combat boots. For this kind of incorporeal "energy residue," as long as it didn't block his way, he usually couldn't be bothered with it—unless it tried to stand up again.

  But Singularity was different.

  At this moment, he was like a hamster guarding its food, sticking his butt up while lying on the ground, his hands tightly gripping the pitch-black "Banner of Ten Thousand Souls." The runes drawn in cinnabar on the banner were flashing madly, and every flash was like a giant mouth greedily devouring the surrounding air.

  "Collect! Collect! Collect it for me!"

  Singularity stepped in the pattern of the Seven Stars, chanting incantations, and with a wave of the long banner in his hand, an invisible suction force instantly locked onto that ball of the purple Tyrant's soul.

  Although the Tyrant's soul had lost its physical body, it still retained its instinctive ferocity. It tried to flee and even attempted to backlash against this reckless Taoist.

  "ROAR——!"

  The purple ghost fire transformed into a hideous giant face, opening its wide mouth to pounce on Singularity.

  "Hey! You still dare to be fierce to this poor Taoist?"

  Singularity didn't dodge; instead, he pulled out a talisman paper from his bosom with a red "IOU" written on it (that was the receipt for the computing power debt owed to the Celestial Court earlier) and slapped it viciously onto the pole of the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls.

  "You think I *want* to catch you? If it weren't for paying off debts, I'd want to get off work too!"

  "Get in there! From now on, you are the Netherworld's 'Lifetime Free Laborer'!"

  *Hum——!*

  The Banner of Ten Thousand Souls erupted with a golden light. That was the pressure from the Celestial Court's debt (mistake), that was all the mana Singularity poured in.

  The Tyrant's soul let out a desperate wail in the golden light, was forcibly torn apart and elongated, and then, like a wisp of purple smoke, was completely sucked into the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls.

  The runes on the banner lit up once, then returned to calm. Only on the originally black banner surface, there was now an additional pattern of a closed, purple eye.

  "Phew..."

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  Singularity sat on the ground, wiping the greasy sweat from his face. Hugging this heavy banner, his face revealed the kind of smile that was both gratified and calculating, seen only when a capitalist spots free labor.

  He took out the tablet that was still frantically popping up alarms.

  [Netherworld Fiscal Deficit: -3000 Years of Merit (Celestial Court loan interest increasing daily).]

  [King Yama's Hall Status: Surrounded by debt-collecting Heavenly Soldiers.]

  [Judge's Status: Pretending to be dead.]

  "Sigh, life is hard." Singularity sighed, pointing at the deficit on the tablet to show the Slayer (although the Slayer didn't look at all).

  "Great Hero, you don't know. Ever since we started this 'Netherworld Heavy Industrialization,' the electricity bills, material costs, and the computing power fees borrowed to open the Sky Eye... it's just a bottomless pit."

  "King Yama doesn't even dare to take his sedan chair out now, saying he's afraid his assets will be seized by the Celestial Court."

  Singularity patted the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls in his hand.

  "But this is good."

  "This Tyrant's soul is a genuine 'God-Level Energy Core.' Its psychic power is extremely massive and has self-recovery properties. As long as we stuff it into the Netherworld's main reactor..."

  Singularity drew a new architectural diagram on the hologram.

  [New Project: Netherworld Independent Computing Center.]

  [Core CPU: Soul of the Thousand-Eyed Tyrant (Formatted).]

  [Energy Supply: Self-sufficient.]

  "With this, we won't need to rent that broken server from the Celestial Court that's expensive as hell and has no after-sales service!"

  "We can build our own 'Merit Cloud'! We can even provide reverse computing power services to the Celestial Court and earn their money!"

  The more Singularity spoke, the more excited he got, as if he had already seen the day the Netherworld went public and rang the bell.

  "This is called... Energy Independence!"

  The Slayer finally finished cleaning his boots.

  He straightened up and glanced at Singularity, who was still daydreaming about getting rich.

  He didn't care about computing power or deficits.

  He only cared about one point:

  Will this so-called "battery" jump out and bite people again?

  The Slayer walked up to Singularity, extended a finger, and pointed at the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls.

  Then, he made a gesture of "clenching a fist to crush."

  That was a warning.

  *If this thing dares to misbehave, I will crush it along with the banner.*

  Singularity shivered and quickly hugged the banner to his chest to protect it.

  "Don't worry! Great Hero! Absolutely safe!"

  "I've already flashed the '996 Work Schedule' underlying logic code into it! Now, apart from working, it doesn't even have time to dream! It absolutely has no energy to cause trouble!"

  Waste vs Recycle.

  In the Slayer's view, a demon's soul was trash that must be destroyed.

  In Singularity's view, it was coal that could light up thousands of homes in the Netherworld.

  Perhaps this is the so-called... different paths leading to the same destination?

  The Slayer paid no more attention to this money-grubbing Taoist.

  He turned around and looked at his surroundings.

  With the death of the Tyrant and the sealing of its soul, the Spirit slaves who were originally controlled and had now regained consciousness were gathering from all directions.

  They didn't cheer.

  They just quietly watched this green giant who had saved them.

  In those eyes, besides gratitude, there was something that made the Slayer feel a bit... uncomfortable.

  Worship.

  Fanatical worship.

  The Slayer frowned (under the faceplate).

  He wasn't used to this kind of look.

  He was even less used to being surrounded and watched.

  He shouldered his shotgun and stepped forward, preparing to leave.

  But the Spirit race didn't make way. On the contrary, they knelt down.

  Thousands of Spirits, on that scorched ruin, knelt down in unison.

  *Next Chapter: The Gratitude of the Spirits. The Slayer realizes these guys seem to be... clinging to him? He doesn't want to be a god, but they insist on kowtowing to him.*