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Chapter 164: The Protagonist's Onslaught (IX)
Chapter 164: The Protagonist's Onslaught (IX)
Realm of the Dead, Endless Mirage.
An endless desert stretched before the eye, yet not a single grain of yellow sand lay upon this land. All one could see was a monotonous expanse of gray and white.
The remnants of the deceased, reduced to ash by the void's cruel forces, had piled into this desolate plain of white dunes. Here, there was no distinction of day or night. The sky remained eternally shrouded in gray, illuminated only by a black fireball suspended overhead. Its "black light" bathed the world in gloom—the Black Moon, symbol of the Lord of the Nether Abyss. All lands touched by its shadow were his dominion; all spirits cowed by its radiance, his subjects.
On this day, the howling sands raged as eerie chants echoed unnaturally, whipping up spiraling tempests. Amidst the wailing gale, a circular spatial rift suddenly tore open in midair, and a lone figure hurtled forth.
K3-Cheiron slammed into the ground like a multi-ton artillery shell, detonating a deafening explosion that sent shockwaves rippling through the desert. A titanic surge of killing intent erupted, shrouding the wasteland.
"Come out", K3 sneered. "Even if you regret bringing me here now, it's far too late."
For K3, the only thing limiting his power was the difficulty of this scenario itself. Wayiru's belief in his advantage here was clearly a miscalculation. Perhaps in this world, Wayiru's strength exceeded the upper limit of a Level-4 Derivative Being, but even so, a Level-3 Derivative Being like himself still had room to ascend within this higher-tier dimension.
Blood-red clouds surged, the Black Moon dimming. The evil chants in the wind abruptly fell silent. In that instant, a jet of black smoke descended from the heavens, coalescing into a humanoid form—Wayiru, whose gaseous body gradually solidified into a tangible form.
His physical form was that of an elderly man with a purple-hued face. His sharp brows and piercing eyes, his thick beard and tiger-like sideburns, the long white beard cascading to his chest, and his jet-black robes all gave him the appearance of a sage. Yet instead of exuding divine aura, his presence radiated an overwhelming, bone-chilling malevolence. A single glance at him sent shivers down the spine.
The wicked winds fell mute, the wandering souls scattering in fear.
The surroundings fell deathly silent, as if the world itself awaited—watched… anticipating Wayiru's next move.
"I have seen… heard… your arrogance", Wayiru spoke at last. "I can feel your strength. But none of it shall shake my resolve to fight."
"As a guard dog goes", K3 replied with unshaken composure, even as his right arm could currently muster only half its power, "you're not bad at all."
As a Derivative Being—Level-3, no less—he understood the Orders and laws of Terrifying Paradise far better than these scenario bosses. His grasp of combat power analysis was similarly objective and precise.
To compare, Wayiru's power within the Realm of the Dead surpassed even the Fu De encountered by Feng Bu Jue on Hunter's Island by a wide margin. Yet he still fell short of the might of high-tier monsters like Samo Di Er.
Should Wayiru find himself in the world of Cherry Blossom Town, his strength would be severely weakened and restricted. In a full-powered clash, two Gms would stand a significant chance of defeating him.
As for K3-Cheiron, his power in Cherry Blossom Town alone nearly equaled two Gms combined—even slightly superior. Within this Realm of the Dead, however, the data-based constraints on his power diminished, meaning that even as everyone's limits rose, he remained stronger than Wayiru.
"He who dares destroy my Soul-Grasping Formation… dies!" Wayiru barked, his figure flickering as he became a phantom blur, slashing toward K3 in an instant.
The battle erupted, the killing intent spiking.
Wayiru struck first, seeking the initiative. K3, standing firm on the bone sands, twisted his arm to shift the heavens. He barely moved from his stance, merely pushing aside the incoming ghostly claw with a casual flick of his wrist. The two figures passed in a blur—the attack effortlessly deflected.
Naturally, this was merely a probing strike from Wayiru. Facing a formidable foe, he dared not unleash deadly moves without gauging his opponent's depth, lest he expose fatal openings and fall in a single breath.
Spinning around, he roared, summoning a dense black mist from behind him. A frenzied surge of killing intent surged forth alongside a tidal wave of heretic energy, manifesting as a tangible force that crashed toward K3's back.
"Another ranged attack probe?" K3 turned casually, his tone indifferent. "Such bluffing moves might intimidate players…" He raised his right arm, palm open, crimson light blazing across his limb.
Meeting the incoming black torrent with even fiercer Crimson power, the two forces clashed in a titanic collision. The desert trembled with a bell-like resonance.
The shockwave rippled outward, the very skies darkening. As the dust settled, the two figures remained locked in their standoff, neither the worse for wear, their breaths steady. It seemed these probing attacks alone could sustain a duel lasting days, like the martial arts novels' endless battles of masters, ending only when one succumbed to nature's call.
"Pitiful temporary data", K3 sighed, his voice tinged with false pity. "Even if you survive here, you'll vanish when this scenario ends. Across countless scenarios, the system can recreate countless iterations of you. You'll be killed by endless players—or kill them… But neither holds meaning. For you, death is the end. For them, merely a return."
"I don't understand what you're saying…" Wayiru replied.
"You're too simple-minded to grasp it", K3 said. "And the true tragedy is that even if you did understand, you couldn't change a thing. Only those high-tier data entities possessing 'uniqueness' can persist longer. Though even they cannot escape eventual disappearance, at least their memories endure. Their final 'deaths'… will be epics within this dimension."
K3's eyes blazed with cold fury. "So stop wasting my time. Surrender willingly. Fade away and let the system fulfill its condition to transport the players. I stand one step from Level Two—no room for error. I will not allow a scrap of temporary data like you to create any variables!"
…
"Are those… people?" Yongzhe Wudi whispered, following Copernicus' gaze toward a grove where a small group of figures slowly approached.
"Probably hallucinations", Copernicus replied.
"Oh… hallucinations, not monsters", Feng Bu Jue mused, increasingly tempted to critique the administrator's logic. Normally, one would assume monsters approached—not immediately dismiss them as non-physical.
"Should we hide?" Ye Zhi asked, ever the pragmatist, as she quickly shielded the beam of her flashlight.
"Hey, should we hide?" Feng Bu Jue turned directly to Galileo, his tone edged with impatience.
"Uh… I don't think so", Galileo replied, still bewildered by the sudden question but instinctively answering.
"Fine. Let's see what tricks these hallucinations can pull", Feng Bu Jue said, hands in pockets, flashlight raised, watching lazily ahead.
Ye Zhi glanced uneasily between Feng Bu Jue, Copernicus, and Galileo. These unreliable teammates always acted oddly… yet somehow did the right thing, as if they'd read the guide beforehand.
Soon, the group approached. They walked slowly, strangely—like children playing train, one after another.
The lead figure's head hung low to his chest, arms straight forward like a zombie's. The second clutched his shoulders, head buried between arms. The third followed suit, hands on the next's shoulders. Six in total.
As they neared, the players saw their appearances clearly under the flashlights. Their clothing, even their genders—perfectly mirrored the six players.
Feng Bu Jue chuckled. "No need to guess. The last one will say something like, 'Follow us.'"
The group passed silently, as if merely passing by. Whether by coincidence or fate, the last figure wore Feng Bu Jue's signature purple long coat. As he passed the group, he lifted his head—a ghastly, terrifying face, eyes rolled back, whispering with a skin-crawling voice: "Follow us…"
"See? Told you", Feng Bu Jue shrugged.
His relaxed demeanor eased the tension around him, like a horror movie spoiler softening the jump-scare. Preparedness blunted the scene's horror effect—the group's Terror Values remained unaffected.
"This trick's been done since 90s Hong Kong horror flicks", Feng Bu Jue remarked, watching the hallucinations vanish into the dark woods. "If they wanted real creepiness, they'd link us like a centipede and have the head say…"
"Enough!" Ye Zhi interrupted, exasperated. "Please, no more commentary except constructive input?" As the sole female, her San value had plummeted since Feng Bu Jue's arrival. Compared to the game's challenges, his mental pollution felt far more threatening—and potentially persistent even in reality.
"Seeing hallucinations means we've entered the ritual array's range", Copernicus, ever the professional GM, steered the topic back.
"Drop the 'probably,'" Feng Bu Jue smiled. "Lead the way."
(End of Chapter)
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