The Wicked System: Path of the Devourer Chapter 3 The Wicked System Awakens

The shout struck like a thunderbolt, shocking Qin Lan out of her stupor. Finding an unknown reservoir of strength, she violently shoved Zhang Wenbin away and scrambled to her feet.

For the first time since the assault began, he saw her true face—hair in total disarray, her complexion flushed a mesmerizing scarlet. She shot Zhang Wenbin a glare that hovered between rage and coy reproach before guiltily snapping her gaze downward, her hands frantically working to adjust her violently displaced, rumpled bra.

Zhang Wenbin was filled with bitter reluctance. The prime cut of meat he'd practically had in his jaws had been violently snatched away. He merely cursed the brevity of the journey; give him another thirty minutes, and he would have absolutely dominated and ravaged this coy widow right then and there.

The demonic cravings refused to recede, his engorged member throbbing with a painful, unyielding fury. Gritting his teeth, his hands shot out to aggressively grope her buttocks one last time. "My good sister, I definitely still want to find you."

Qin Lan violently shoved him away once more, her expression a mix of indignation and deep-seated shame. "Don't you dare mess around! We're already in the village. If you try anything indecent again, I'll scream and have you beaten to death!"

"Sister, but you really enjoyed it too, didn't you?" Zhang Wenbin taunted relentlessly. His hands ignored the boundary of cloth, forcefully swiping against her crotch area. He could distinctly feel the dampness saturating the fabric of that sacred territory.

The violating touch sent violent tremors through Qin Lan's body. She furiously slapped at Zhang Wenbin's hands, her face practically bleeding with heat. "Get away from me! I'm sweating from the heat. What does a little brat like you know about 'enjoying' anything?!"

The scant thirty minutes they had spent entangled together felt like an eternity. Now, she was overwhelmed by a crippling, agonizing awkwardness.

Because it wasn't just her outer pants that were slightly damp; her underwear was fundamentally soaked through. Qin Lan was utterly unprepared for this little bastard to be so obscenely bold, filled with such predatory audacity that he'd force himself upon a complete stranger in the back of a moving bus.

Yet, a perverse sliver of resentment blossomed in Qin Lan's mind. She had been terrified and tense, yes. But the sensation of the man's rough, foreign hands forcefully seizing and violating her breasts, paired with the relentless, bestial bucking from below, had unleashed tidal waves of catastrophic stimulation.

It had made her long-starved body feel unspeakably, divinely euphoric. Just a moment longer—perhaps a mere second more—and she might have surrendered to the exquisite ruin of a world-shattering climax.

At this dark, treasonous thought, Qin Lan's gaze unconsciously drifted down toward Zhang Wenbin's crotch.

A massive tent pitched itself violently against the fabric of his trousers. Based on their prior contact, the dimensions were terrifying, boasting the unyielding hardness of forged steel. If such a monstrous weapon were to truly breach her depths... she probably would have climaxed instantly, sparing her this current agony of being suspended halfway to heaven.

That sensation... The intrusive thought terrified Qin Lan to the core of her soul. She cursed herself internally—Am I a filthy slut? I was being bullied! How could I possibly think such shameful things?!

Just then, the shuttle bus finally groaned to a stop. Qin Lan flusteredly averted her gaze and hissed, "Hurry up and roll out of here. I don't ever want to see you again."

"Good sister, we'll definitely be seeing each other."

Taking advantage of her distraction, Zhang Wenbin stole a brazen kiss on her cheek. Seeing her body flinch but fail to reject the violation ignited a torturous itch in his soul. Alas, they had arrived, and under the watchful eyes of the public, he couldn't push the boundaries further. He was forced to suppress his violent impulses.

Given the mountainous pile of goods blocking the path, Zhang Wenbin bypassed the aisle entirely, vaulting straight out the window with his luggage on his back. Landing on solid ground, he cast a lingering, predatory glance at the coy widow still aboard.

A sturdy old man approached to welcome him, chuckling, "You must be Wenbin. How'd you end up on the cargo transport? And look, you even bumped into your sister-in-law."

"My sister-in-law?" Zhang Wenbin was momentarily startled. He whipped his head back to gaze at the stunning, dumbfounded widow on the bus.

The old village chief laughed jovially. "She was married to your cousin from the same clan, Zhang Wenqiang. It's a true pity Wenqiang passed away so early. Who would've thought you two would run into each other—what a total coincidence!"

A gorgeous widow, and one bound to me by familial ties as a sister-in-law...

A surge of pure, unadulterated evil swamped Zhang Wenbin's mind. He turned back, flashing a venomous, charming smile. "Sister-in-law! Well then, once I'm done with my business, I'll definitely come by your house to pay my respects."

"Okay... sure!" Caught under the scrutiny of the public eye, Qin Lan agreed in a state of absolute, flustered panic. Plagued by immense guilt, she irrationally feared that refusing him would somehow expose what had just transpired between them.

To the onlookers, Zhang Wenbin appeared handsomely striking, his smile radiant and utterly harmless. But in Qin Lan's eyes, that smile was steeped in profane depravity. It felt as if, in the very next second, he intended to strip her entirely naked. Filled with a terrifying mix of shame and anger, she bowed her head, lacking the courage to meet his predatory gaze.

The village chief led the way, calling over his shoulder, "Let's go pack up those things first."

At the village entrance stood a dilapidated temple. No one knew its true era of construction; the village elders merely claimed it had existed for as long as they could remember. Yet, no one could definitively say which deity resided within, so they universally referred to it as the 'Earth God Temple.'

Calling it a temple was generous. It was a single-room structure barely over three square meters. Over half its roof tiles were shattered, and the offering altar was missing a leg—God knows how many times it had been haphazardly repaired. It was as decrepit as a ruin.

"This is practically a condemned building now. Once it's demolished, there are no plans to rebuild. Just light some incense and escort your 'godfather' away," the chief instructed.

Zhang Wenbin lit an incense stick and let it burn, planting it into the censer before performing three kneels and nine kowtows. Internally, he grumbled in annoyance. If it weren't for the 1,000 yuan demolition subsidy, there's no way in hell I would have hauled my ass all the way back here to worship a 'godfather' whose identity I don't even know.

Rural superstitions harbored bizarre traditions. For instance, if a child cried excessively at night or fell ill, they'd be assigned a 'godfather'—be it a rock at a crossroads, a massive tree in the village, or any manner of absurd entity.

When Zhang Wenbin was a child, a persistent, raging fever had terrified his parents. After seeking medical help to no avail, they brought him back to the village to consult a blind fortune-teller. The blind man declared that Zhang Wenbin's birth date aligned with Extreme Yang vitality. Being born during the Ghost Month further cemented his Yang essence as profoundly, terrifyingly anomalous—in layman's terms, his astrological destiny was terrifyingly unyielding.

Under the blind man's guidance, Zhang Wenbin formally took the nameless Earth God in this wild temple at the village entrance as his godfather. Miraculously, right after the ritual, his fever miraculously broke.

Born and raised in the city, Zhang Wenbin could count the number of times he'd returned to the countryside on one hand. He only recognized the old village chief because the man frequently visited the city. He had returned to the village precisely because the chief had called to inform him the old wild temple was slated for demolition.

With 1,000 yuan on the line, he returned; otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered.

Having completed the ritual, Zhang Wenbin stepped into the murky temple, carefully attempting to lift the statue that vaguely resembled a charred black lump of coal.

Perhaps owing to centuries of decay and weathering, the moment his fingers brushed the surface, a piercing, soul-shattering agony ripped through him. Instantly losing consciousness, his body crumpled to the ground.

Unaware of the anomaly, the old village chief had delivered his instructions and left, completely oblivious to the creeping horror unfolding behind him.

In broad daylight, an arctic, supernatural chill began to radiate from the ancient, wild temple, as bone-piercingly sinister as the dead of winter.

The weathered statue expelled a dense, billowing cloud of black mist. The dark fog coiled and writhed as if sentient, acting like a predatory viper that had finally locked onto a beloved prey. It descended with a manic, terrifying frenzy, drilling rapidly into the unconscious vessel of Zhang Wenbin's body.

As the black mist thoroughly assimilated, the statue began to disintegrate into nothingness. On the broken altar, the only remaining object was a solitary ring, tinged with a sickly, sallow hue.

A chilling, utterly emotionless voice resonated through the ether:

[System Notification: Extreme Yang Constitution verified. Host criteria fulfilled. The Wicked System is now initializing...]

Inside the pitch-black confines of the ruined temple, the unconscious Zhang Wenbin unleashed a blood-curdling scream of pure agony. Yet, at that exact moment, the temple seemed entirely severed from reality. Outside its crumbling walls, not a single sound could be heard.