"That is actually not a type of power, but a physical crystal!" Alvin said. "On the Dylan Continent, we call it Divine Definition!"
"Definition?" Bai Yang was sowhat curious. "What does that an?"
"It ans... sothing that only deities can define. It carries special attributes related to the essence of gods!"
What Alvin said was quite abstract, so Bai Yang understood it abstractly. "It's a form of lie, but materialized, correct?"
"Yes!" Alvin nodded. "Because the Divine Spark lost the protection of Divine Fire, it shattered itself when crossing the world barrier. What remains are the trace crystals!"
"If you were a true god who had ascended to divinity, these traces wouldn't matter because they themselves possess supre definition authority. The traces on these crystals can be reclaid at any ti, but you currently cannot!"
Bai Yang certainly knew he couldn't. He was rely a "false god" possessing a Divine Spark. He lacked all four elents of godhood, so of course he didn't have such capability.
If he truly could ascend to godhood, all these things would transform into his fundantal authority.
However, Bai Yang had grand ambitions. He didn't want to ascend as the God of Lies; he aid for the true supre position!
He wanted to ascend to great divinity as the God of Stories or the Creator!
"How many such crystals are there?" Bai Yang asked. "When I crossed into this world, I rember only stopping at three places..."
"Yes, three places: the North Pole, Central Asia, and here," Alvin said. "You need to recover them before the seekers from the Dylan Continent arrive here, to avoid attracting the attention of true deities."
Bai Yang indicated his understanding. "Then we can only hope the Divine War on the Dylan Continent lasts a bit longer, giving us more ti!"
But of course, one shouldn't rely solely on hope from others, so he needed to accelerate his pace!
At that mont, the car gradually ca to a stop, and the several people inside slowly disembarked.
The driver casually counted heads. "Five, six, six... yes, six people total, all off."
He drove away, leaving behind a figure that dissipated on the spot.
...
San Diego City, West District.
Life in the slums seed largely unchanged from before.
And the "Gray Wolf" gang located at the southernmost part of the West District still maintained their arrogant, swaggering deanor!
They were herding so won toward the most terrifying building in this area—the "Red Mansion."
These won, disheveled and dirty, of various ethnicities, were led like livestock by a rope into this building painted with red lacquer.
From outside, they could seemingly hear piercing, miserable wails coming from inside.
Hearing these sounds, the won appeared even more terrified, but under the threat of gun barrels, they had no choice but to enter.
Their expressions of fear seed even more vivid in the darkness.
anwhile, the conversation of the gang underlings echoed around them.
"These illegal immigrants are really unfortunate, running into our boss here. No jobs and facing deportation..."
"Exactly! If not for our boss's kindness, they wouldn't even get to work in the Red Mansion, right?"
"By the way, are all these people illegal immigrants?"
"Who knows? We're close to the xican border here. What kind of legitimate people would be around? Just grab them! Do you think the police can interfere with Gray Wolf's business?"
"Good point..."
The two n walked away, leaving only the miserable wails from the "Red Mansion" echoing in their ears.
In the distance, a man of Native Arican descent was roaming this area, shouting a na in his ancient, mysterious language!
He approached, his shouts growing increasingly anxious and panicked, which naturally drew the attention of the surrounding "Gray Wolf" mbers.
"Another one coming to look for soone? Handle it!" A man who looked like a supervisor patted a gang mber holding a gun beside him.
"Tell them this isn't Los Angeles where they need to worry about police. This is a border city!"
The gang mber was a Black man. Hearing this, he glared maliciously at the approaching man and raised his gun. "Of course, sir!"
"BANG!" A gunshot rang out, and the man dropped to one knee.
"BANG!" Another shot, and the man collapsed face-down on the ground.
Only then did the Black gang mber approach, looking at this strangely dressed man, and fired a shot into each of his hands.
The man wailed in agony on the ground, but elicited no pity from the shooter.
This scene made many onlookers in the vicinity fall completely silent in fear!
This wasn't just malicious fun; it was also a warning to everyone around!
A warning about the Gray Wolf gang's brutality, effective against anyone!
Soon, the crowd dispersed, leaving only the man lying on the ground, moaning in pain.
His blood was nearly drained, and he soon lost even the strength to cry out.
At that mont, from an unseen location, Bai Yang coldly watched this scene.
"Indeed, this gang remains as brutal and evil as ever. Such pure evil!" Bai Yang remarked.
He had rely passed by this gang's territory before and was relentlessly chased by a group until he barely escaped by reaching the city center.
His reason for fleeing to Vespuchi Town was also connected to these individuals' ruthless practice of indiscriminately capturing people.
Now, seeing that these people hadn't changed, Bai Yang felt reassured.
"This kind of gang perfectly fits the definition for establishing authority and spreading influence!" he said slowly, gazing at the man before him, gently leaning down and placing his hand on the man's head.
"Let see what you desire..."
Ivan Ruiz was the man's na.
He was born in a Native Arican reservation in California, a man struggling to survive on this barren land.
His life was dull, marred by poverty, discrimination, ignorance, and foolishness.
Until one day, he found his true love—a young woman from a neighboring tribe nad Layla Winnonah.
Ivan loved this na because Layla was a gentle young woman. They built a happy family together and were blessed with a child, their happy culmination.
He transford from his previous aimless existence, working diligently, laboring hard, saving money ticulously, all to secure a happy future for her.
Today, Layla wanted to buy a prenatal gift for their child.
Overjoyed, Ivan took the money he had saved from working under white employers over the years, held his wife's hand, and ca to San Diego City.
But, during a shopping trip half an hour ago, in a mont of distraction, Ivan lost his wife's hand, and he never held it again.
The reason he ca to this place was that he found the plant bracelet he had given his wife discarded in a puddle at a street corner.
And now, this bracelet was clutched tightly in his hand; even after his hands were shot, he hadn't let go!
"Cocijo! O Spear-Bearer with Burning Headdress! Carve the blood pact in the ancestral flint forest—let my charge beco the wrath of the stars!"
Cocijo is the na of the god of war and sacrifice in Mayan mythology, the na Ivan was invoking.
This remnant of an ancient tribe actually still preserved such sacrificial customs, which greatly surprised Bai Yang!
He looked at this man, observing the bracelet tightly gripped in his hand, and nodded gently.
This man's will and suffering had t the standard!
"Then, as you wish!" Bai Yang gently tapped the bracelet, infusing a trace of Divine Power into it.
"Alvin, implant a mory of a blessing nad Cocijo into him, then enhance him into a warrior from Mayan legends!"
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