"Excuse me, miss, may I take a moment of your ti—"

"Take a moment of my ass! Get lost!"

After once again fending off a clueless lecher, Quinn felt like he was about to snap, in the most literal sense.

Sealed artifacts, magical items, ancient entities… One event after another had assaulted him, each bringing its own wave of corruption, which he had somehow endured. But one occurrence finally broke his resolve.

The Fallen Mother Goddess, once one of the three pillars and ruler of all feminine forces, stood at the pinnacle of Outer Gods even after losing her pillar strength. Being invaded by such an existence was no trivial matter. Although Quinn had gained a wealth of precious knowledge, it had come with significant side effects.

During his uncertain days adrift at sea, he felt his spirit marred with countless scars. The Fallen Mother Goddess had left numerous marks on him, leading Quinn to understand that if he dared to utter her name again, not even the Fool by his side could save him.

He had tried tearing away the corrupted parts of his spirit, even though this would weaken him and induce temporary madness. However, the high rank of the Fallen Mother Goddess made the corruption cling like a stubborn leech, impossible to shake off.

Quinn naively thought things couldn't get worse, but the mysterious world had no bottom line. He had forgotten about the physical changes.

When one strange man after another approached him, even attempting to drag him away, he realized something was wrong. If his charm transcended gender boundaries, he wouldn't have been single for over twenty years.

He irritably ruffled his messy green hair. Upon checking urgently, he found that the feminine force of the Fallen Mother Goddess had altered his body to some extent.

But due to limited time and distance, and because her main attacks targeted his spirit, he was lucky enough to only suffer feminization of his appearance while preserving his prized manhood.

Could things get any worse…? I just came out to crush a cult… Quinn wandered aimlessly through the unfamiliar town, not caring how conspicuous he looked in his tattered bishop's robe. Corruption still ravaged his spirit.

Too many things had happened. He didn't want to think about ancient entities or pillars. "Bring on the corruption! I can't deal with you anymore!" he thought in despair. "If I lose control, I'll use my power to bury myself in the earth, giving official Beyonders enough time to arrive."

Just then, a rich aroma wafted into Quinn's nose from the harbor. It smelled like grilled fish… so delicious! Quinn felt his mouth watering uncontrollably.

Come to think of it, I’m out of money…

His eyes lit up with an idea. He pulled out a wooden comb he had secretly conjured, quickly tidying his seaweed-like hair. Then he took out a handful of leaves, rubbing them on his face to reveal the delicate features altered by the feminine force. He headed towards an alleyway where he heard a man's lecherous laughter.

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Not long after.

Quinn walked out of the alley, leaving a few unconscious men behind him, flipping a few bloodstained copper coins in his hand. From the thugs, he learned that he was on Banshee Island, far from Bikini Beach.

A nearby tree told him it was nearing evening, the air becoming more humid, and Banshee Harbor was gradually blanketed in thick fog.

Hmm? Something’s not right. Quinn noticed the sudden drop in foot traffic. Though it was the peak time for fishermen returning and workers getting off, the residents of Banshee Harbor had all retreated home, tightly shutting their doors.

A bit creepy… Quinn felt increasingly uneasy. The houses on both sides of the road had all closed their doors and drawn their curtains, as if avoiding something.

From street corners, alleys, and behind covered windows, it seemed like watchful eyes were constantly on him, stirring his spiritual senses.

Suddenly, a floating black shadow shot out from an alley, aiming straight for the back of Quinn’s head!

Thud! Without turning, Quinn cautiously conjured a slender wooden spike, thrusting it backward and piercing the shadow. Countless branches erupted, tearing the shadow apart.

He turned to see the original form of the shadow—a desiccated human head!

Staring wordlessly at the remains, he raised a hand to cover his face. Nights here are as "lively" as days… Quinn thought wearily.

With the harbor growing more complicated, Quinn couldn’t predict what would happen next, but based on his experience, he knew he needed to find shelter to better assess the situation.

The houses along the street were all "occupied," unlikely to welcome a stranger. To find a place to stay, his only option was… an inn!

Quinn quickly devised a plan and, without hesitation, ran towards the area near the harbor, his tired eyes gleaming with a hint of madness.

As the sea breeze flowed gently, thick fog enveloped Banshee Harbor like the grasp of a monstrous hand. Quinn sprinted along the street, not using his ability to burrow underground.

He stopped in front of a restaurant, "Green Lemon Restaurant," he read aloud from the sign. The lights inside were still on, suggesting it was open. Harbor-side restaurants often offered lodging.

Just as he was about to push the door open, he heard an argument inside.

"No, we must go back!" a young girl shouted.

"If there's a problem, staying here will be more dangerous. The ship has cannons and armed sailors," a deep male voice responded, tinged with uncertain trembling.

Those wanting to stay seemed persuaded, and Quinn saw a family pushing the door open, accompanied by three burly men who looked like bodyguards.

"Ah!" The girl, holding her brother’s hand, screamed in terror upon seeing the scene outside the restaurant.

Before her stood a person whose delicate appearance made it hard to determine his gender. He wore a tattered bishop's robe, stained with sticky blood. His eyes glowed green in the night like a wild beast’s, filled with murky madness.

Most terrifying was his long, verdant hair, swaying as if alive, rooted in the brick road, pulsing as if it had a life of its own, like a tree demon from legends.

"Who are you?!"

The three bodyguards, seeing the figure clearly, swiftly drew their pistols, staring at him in fear. They felt today’s series of events were shattering their worldview.

"I’m just passing through."

Quinn glanced at them, puzzled by their extreme reaction. As he was about to enter, another shriveled head flew towards them from the brick road outside the restaurant.

Quinn reflexively flung out a wooden spike, piercing the head and reducing it to pieces.

Immediately, a holy beam of light descended, enveloping the remains and making them disappear. This light didn’t come from anyone present.

Step, step, step. Two black silhouettes emerged from the thick fog. Quinn turned, squinting to see the leading figure clearly.

Then, he exclaimed in surprise:

"Gehrman Sparrow?"