Chapter 145: Ignorance is Fearless

Hearing what the female reporter said, the cameraman let out a cunning smile. "Obviously."

In truth, they were by no means legitimate reporters; they were merely a bunch of internet trolls who wrote articles and fabricated explosive scandals. The so-called careful editing was nothing more than distorting facts and confusing the public.

A few hours later, they appeared inside a rented apartment. A man wearing glasses was operating a computer. After a short while, he leaned back in his chair and said to the female reporter standing behind him, "I have edited it according to your requirements. Take a look at the result."

The female reporter nodded, her eyes fixing on the computer screen.

At that moment, the screen displayed Alta, who was recounting something with a terrified expression on his face. "Westford is a madman. He killed all of us."

"Westford!" At this point, the sound of Ellosa's voice rang out, and the camera panned to Ellosa. Ellosa appeared to have fallen into some painful memory, taking a long time to finally snap back to reality.

"Mr. Ellosa, can you tell us what exactly happened? What did Westford do?"

Upon hearing the reporter's question, Ellosa unexpectedly lunged forward and grabbed the reporter by the throat, roaring as he choked her. "He wants everyone to die! Everyone!"

After Ellosa was subdued and restrained, the camera shifted back to Alta. The reporter asked, "Why did Westford want to kill you, or rather, everyone?"

Alta slowly set down his teacup and said with a calm demeanor, "Because he thinks all of us are foolish and do not deserve to live."

The video ended there. The female reporter nodded with satisfaction after watching it. Paired with the copy she had written beforehand, she posted it online without a second thought.

The headline read: *Shocking! Westford Actually Believes Everyone Else is Too Stupid Except Him, and He Wants to Annihilate Humanity!*

The content of the article roughly listed a plethora of malicious deeds supposedly committed by Westford, along with various fabricated interpersonal relationships, all designed to hoodwink anyone who read the piece.

One must remember that the Empire of the Setting Sun had deep-rooted issues with racism. Thus, based on the persona of Westford painted in the article, this was quite literally an upgraded, enhanced version of racism. Ordinary racism merely looked down upon other ethnic groups; this Westford simply looked down upon all of humanity except himself.

Therefore, the female reporter was convinced that this article would cause a sensation and bring her immense benefits.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before the article caused a massive uproar throughout the entire Empire of the Setting Sun. The view count soared like a rocket, leaving the female reporter and her team dizzy with excitement. They had already begun fantasizing about the wonderful life that awaited them once they went viral.

However, their joy was short-lived, as their article was abruptly blocked, and their account was banned.

"Did the authorities react this quickly?" the female reporter muttered, somewhat astonished.

Right at that moment, the sound of blaring sirens suddenly erupted from outside. It seemed that a fleet of police cars had arrived directly beneath their apartment building.

Crying out that something was wrong, the female reporter immediately wanted to make a run for it, but she grossly underestimated the capabilities of the police in the Empire of the Setting Sun. Before they could even make a move, several SWAT officers smashed through the windows and subdued them in the blink of an eye.

Subsequently, they were hauled down to the police station and subjected to a thorough, grueling interrogation.

Eventually, a new article surfaced. In this article, the reporter expressed profound remorse for spreading rumors about Mr. Westford, detailing precisely how she had manipulated and edited the video. In short, it was a complete and total retraction of everything she had previously published.

As soon as this article came out, public opinion swung in the opposite direction. People began hurling abuses at the female reporter; some even initiated doxxing campaigns against her. In short, she faced the wrath of the entire internet.

Although the female reporter was eventually released and sent back to her rented apartment, everyone on her team abandoned her, and her untarnished persona of never fabricating news completely collapsed. The very people she had previously smeared now piled on to kick her when she was down, driving her reputation into an indescribably filthy gutter.

Now, whenever she opened her phone or computer, she was met with overwhelming floods of abusive messages. These messages made her feel an unprecedented sense of a mental breakdown.

First, she felt fury; then, she began frantically smashing everything inside the rental apartment; finally, her gaze turned vicious and cold.

The brutal beating she suffered at the police station, the venomous abuse online, the exorbitant compensation demands, and the dissolution of her team—all these events had inflicted an immense wave of negative emotions upon her. Staring fixedly at the computer screen, she clenched her teeth and muttered word by word through gritted teeth, "I will definitely find the evidence and prove it to all of you!"

She knew that although her video had been cobbled together through selective editing, the fact that Westford had killed those thirteen wealthy elites was almost certainly true. She believed that as long as she investigated, she would undoubtedly dig up something extraordinary.

As for Westford's future retaliation? She would simply pack up and flee—what could the other party possibly do to her? This was truly the fearlessness of the ignorant.

Yet, she was not the only person at the hospital that day. Coupled with the fact that the dozen or so people who died were all extremely influential figures, how could it possibly fail to attract public attention?

Despite the authorities of the Empire of the Setting Sun desperately trying to suppress the public discourse, a legend rapidly began circulating throughout the country.

Inside a bar, Fernanda held a glass of beer, wearing a wicked smile as he watched the dancer on the stage. He had already decided to spend a wonderful night with this woman.

Just at that moment, however, his ears perked up because two people sitting not far from him were discussing something that caught his interest.

"Did you know? Westford is actually an emissary from hell. He killed thirteen tycoons and drove two others insane."

"Who did you hear that from? Clearly, it was because those thirteen tycoons called him stupid, and when he found out, he slaughtered them like that. The other two just happened to be there to gawk, so they spared their lives and are just pretending to be crazy so they can keep living."

As the two were talking, someone else chimed in. "What kind of rumors are those? The latest news is that Westford belongs to the Nightmare Doll Cult, and he's openly provoking the authority of the royal family of the Empire of the Setting Sun!"

"What? The Nightmare Doll Cult? You mean that newly emerged evil cult?"

"Yeah, have you heard of it too? This cult is just too bizarre; it just popped up out of nowhere."

Over the past few days, an evil cult had suddenly appeared. Many of the believers in this church had defected from the Heavenly God Church, and their explicit goal was to go head-to-head with the Heavenly God Church and the deities themselves, everywhere propagating the theory that gods were useless.

Because Hill had taken all the credit for defeating the uncanny entities upon himself, the majority of citizens had no idea that actual deities had intervened to fight the supernatural horrors.

Once an idea took root, it became uncontrollable. More and more people were waking up, realizing that the gods had never truly helped them. Instead, the image of the Nightmare Doll was magnified infinitely in the hearts of these people.

This was actually not difficult to understand. For people who had maintained religious faith for years, once that faith collapsed, they desperately needed to find a replacement. The faith of the Nightmare Doll happened to fit their requirements precisely.

Of course, this was only among a very small minority of people. The awareness of the Nightmare Doll Cult was still extremely low, known only to a handful of individuals; the vast majority of people's faith in the Heavenly God Church remained unshakable.

At this point, the conversationalists seemed to notice Fernanda eavesdropping. They all shut their mouths and began drinking in silence.

Fernanda didn't say anything further either. He simply set down his beer glass, picked up his hat from the table, and walked straight out of the bar.

When he reached the doorway of the bar, he put his hat back on, his eyes brimming with delight. In truth, he had gone out this time under the direct orders of Feng Tianlin.

Feng Tianlin had told him to go out and play, and not to return until he accidentally overheard news related to Feng Tianlin.

And now, the time for him to return had arrived.

Upon returning to the House of Horror, the very first person he saw was Feng Tianlin in his doll form.

At that moment, Feng Tianlin was lounging leisurely on the bed, deep in thought about something. Seeing Fernanda arrive, he slowly spoke up, "What? Have you already managed to accidentally overhear news about me from the outside?"

He understood that if Fernanda could accidentally hear news of himself, then others could as well. This proved that he was finally beginning to establish influence in the Empire of the Setting Sun.

And now, all he needed to do was link his identity as the Doll with Westford.