Read Novel Full Chapter 635: The Divine Executioners
Chapter 635: The Divine Executioners
Marcus snapped his eyes open.
For one moment, he was certain he was still trapped in some nightmare, because what had just happened simply could not have happened.
His beautiful paradise, his secret domain built from years of careful manipulation and stolen souls—it could not be broken. It was inviolable. It was his.
A laugh began to build in his chest, the reflexive release of a man convinced he’d merely dreamed his own destruction.
But the the sound quickly died in his throat.
Four figures stood in perfect stillness around his bed. Dark trench coats hung from their shoulders with the weight of authority.
Their faces carried expressions that made his blood run cold—not cruel, not angry, but solemn.
The look of men who had already judged him and found him wanting.
But this…this was impossible!
The room he occupied now was a secret chamber buried beneath his home, accessible only through passages he’d designed himself, hidden from even his own family.
It was the greatest weakness of his ability: when he walked through the worlds of his own mind, his physical form lay defenseless.
That was why he’d constructed this fortress within a fortress, this chamber that no one should have been able to find.
Yet here they stood.
He opened his mouth to speak, to summon the lightning that had made him legendary—
And then he saw it.
The emblem on their chests. The angel with wings spread wide, and above those wings, an eye overseeing the angel itself.
His face drained of blood until he felt like a corpse wearing his own skin.
He knew exactly who they were.
The Bureau of Blessed Investigation and Enforcement.
Or some would call them the Divine Executioners.
The organization under the direct command of the Maiden of Fate herself, tasked with regulating all Blessed activity, monitoring those who wielded powers that could level cities, and ensuring they never crossed the lines that separated protector from predator.
In a world where mortals lived alongside those who could bend reality to their will, the Bureau existed to maintain the fragile balance.
They were the ones who came when a Blessed went rogue, who hunted down those who thought their powers placed them above consequence.
Elite Blessed and non-Blessed alike, trained specifically to neutralize threats that ordinary forces couldn’t hope to contain.
And they were here looking at him with those terrible, knowing expressions.
He was done. He knew it in his bones.
Move, his mind screamed. Fight. Escape. DO SOMETHING.
He threw himself sideways, scrambling for the edge of the bed, reaching for the lightning that had always answered his call—
Bang!
He hit the floor with a crash that drove the air from his lungs, chains clanking against the hardwood.
He looked down at his wrists, his ankles, and found them bound in shackles etched with blue runes that pulsed with a soft, malevolent glow. Already he could feel them working, suppressing his energy, draining the strength from his limbs until even lifting his head felt like an impossible labor.
The lead officer stepped forward. Bald, broad-shouldered, with a face that had seen too much and forgotten nothing. His voice was flat, official, utterly devoid of emotion.
“Marcus Williams. By the authority of the Maiden of Fate, you are under arrest.”
Marcus choked.
“For the internal trafficking of hundreds of victims into your domain…” the officer continued, each word precise and devastating. “…and for using those victims as entertainment for yourself and your guests. Additional charges will be recited at a later time.”
He moved behind Marcus, grabbing the chains that bound his shackled hands and hauling him upright with effortless strength.
“For now, I would advise you not to resist. It would make this easier for all of us.”
Marcus’s mind fractured. The words spilled out before he could stop them, desperate and wild.
“No—stop, please, you’ve got this all wrong! This is a mistake! I’m Marcus Williams—the Lightning Deity! You can’t just drag someone like me away!”
His voice cracked, rising to something manic, something unhinged.
But the officers’ expressions never changed.
They simply pulled him forward, dragging him through the corridors of his own home like a criminal, like a thing.
And in that moment, Marcus understood the full scope of his destruction.
Mika had done exactly as he’d promised. The information had been released—all of it.
A wave of despair crashed over him, so overwhelming he nearly collapsed.
But that was only the beginning.
When they reached the ground floor and pulled him through his own front door, the flash of cameras blinded him.
A crowd of reporters surged forward, their questions cutting through the night air like knives.
“MARCUS WILLIAMS! IS IT TRUE THAT YOU’VE BEEN TRAFFICKING CHILDREN INTO YOUR OWN BLESSING TO CONDUCT SADISTIC ACTS?”
“HOW MANY VICTIMS HAVE YOU TAKEN OVER THE YEARS? CAN YOU GIVE US A NUMBER?”
“ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THE INCREASED KIDNAPPING RATES ACROSS THE EASTERN TERRITORIES?”
“HOW DOES IT FEEL TO GO FROM BEING CELEBRATED AS A HERO TO BEING EXPOSED AS A MONSTER?”
“WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO THE FAMILIES OF YOUR VICTIMS?”
The questions hammered against him, each one a blade that cut deeper than the last.
But what hurt most was the way they looked at him.
Pure, unadulterated disgust.
These weren’t the carefully neutral expressions of journalists doing their jobs.
These were the faces of human beings staring at something repulsive, something that made them want to shower just from being in his presence.
Marcus realized, with a cold horror that every single news outlet in the world now knew what he had done.
His crimes were public knowledge now, and there would be no hiding from them.
But his despair was only beginning.
“LET ME GO!” The voice cut through the commotion. “Let me go! I’m pregnant! I have a child inside of me! What the hell do you think you’re doing, handling me like this?!”
Marcus froze.
That voice. He knew that voice.
Slowly, as though moving through water, he turned his head.
His sister stood in the middle of the lawn, her white hair disheveled, her golden eyes blazing with fury and terror.
She was six months pregnant, her belly swollen beneath her rumpled clothing, and she was being dragged toward a reinforced transport vehicle by two Bureau agents who showed no concern for her condition.
“Stop!” Marcus heard himself shout, his voice raw. “What’s going on? What are you doing with her? Why are you taking her? She didn’t do anything wrong!”
The bald officer didn’t even glance back. “Orders from above.” He replied flatly. “You and your entire family are to be taken into custody.”
“No!” Marcus struggled harder against his restraints, the runes flaring painfully against his skin. “No, they did nothing wrong! They’re innocent! They don’t know anything about—”
But the officers were already moving, and he could only watch in horror as the rest of his family was pulled from their beds and dragged into the night.
His father, dignified even in his pajamas. His mother, weeping silently.
His uncles, his nieces, his nephews. His two younger brothers, both shouting protests that fell on deaf ears.
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!”
“WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”
“PLEASE, SOMEONE TELL US WHAT’S GOING ON!”
“MARCUS! MARCUS, WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
Some of them were innocent, of course. And then there were some of them had visited his domain and had partaken in its pleasures.
They tried to act innocent now, tried to claim ignorance, but the Bureau didn’t seem to care about their performances.
Marcus’s sister caught sight of him across the lawn.
“Marcus!” She screamed, fighting against her captors. “Marcus, what’s going on? What’s happening? Tell them I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“They’re saying horrible things about you—disgusting things! Tell them it’s not true! Just tell them!”
Marcus opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
What could he possibly say?
How could he look his pregnant sister in the eyes and tell her that yes, that he had built a secret world where he tortured innocent people for entertainment, that he had invited others to join him in his depravity?
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
And then he saw it—the moment the hope drained from her face, replaced by something far more terrible: the realization that her brother was everything they said he was.
She didn’t scream again. She didn’t fight. She just stared at him with those golden eyes, so like his own and let herself be shoved into the truck with the rest of their family.
Marcus felt something inside him break.
Then it was his turn.
They marched him forward through a gauntlet of flashing cameras, his face illuminated by bursts of artificial light that made him feel like a specimen under examination.
He felt hollowed out, his soul scraped clean, leaving nothing but an empty shell that moved because it was being moved.
They threw him into another truck. The doors closed. The engine rumbled to life.
And Marcus Williams, hero, legend, the Lightning Deity was gone.
—
In truth, the scene outside Marcus’s home should have been much larger.
Marcus Williams was a man whose face had graced countless magazine covers and news broadcasts.
For someone of his stature to be arrested on charges this heinous, half the journalists in the world should have been camped outside his gates, fighting for the perfect angle on the story of the century.
Instead, only seven or eight news crews had gathered.
But this wasn’t because the world didn’t care about Marcus’s crimes.
It was because similar scenes were unfolding all over the world!
Thousands of sting operations were being conducted simultaneously, every single one executed by the Bureau of Blessed Investigation and Enforcement.
Every member of the Dream Realm conspiracy was being taken down, one by one, in a synchronized assault that would reshape the world’s power structure forever.
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