Chinese Superman

Chapter 223: So what about the mechanics? Don't you understand the beauty of extreme numbers?

"Sizzle"

A sickening metallic crackling sound.

With the violent impact, the muddy path trembled violently, and countless eerie auras rose from the flesh and mud-paved surface, transforming into distorted faces that emitted piercing screams.

Then the wide, flat front of the bus dented.

The entire front of the car caved inward, as if it had crashed into a steel pillar.

The sheet metal rolled up, parts flew off, and streams of dark red liquid gushed out from the cracks, flowing onto the ground. At first glance, it looked like gasoline, but it was actually blood that was about to congeal.

A bus was bleeding, and it was bleeding heavily. Nothing could be more bizarre than this.

The blood quickly pooled into a crimson, viscous mass, overflowing from Xia Xinghan's feet.

Xia Xinghan, however, remained completely still and unharmed.

"Is this the impact of some strange force? Interesting. My super brain seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second when it was hit."

Xia Xinghan recalled the "Boundless Void" of the Evil God's Giant Eye. Although the principles were different, the effects were similar. One used infinite information to overwhelm the brain, while the other used strange power to crash the brain or thinking.

However, just as the thought shifted, another unexpected change occurred.

The car lights have changed.

The two yellow headlights on either side of the front of the car suddenly turned scarlet.

When the red light shone on Xia Xinghan, he felt his body stiffen slightly, as if he had been frozen in place by something.

It's not a physical constraint, but a conceptual effect.

"To be seen is to be locked on; to be locked on is to be immobilized."

Xia Xinghan instantly deduced several strange forces emanating from the bus.

"It really is an idealistic system."

At the same time, the pool of blood that had flowed from the front of the bus seemed to come alive. The viscous, dark red blood writhed on the ground, like a living liquid, spreading upwards from Xia Xinghan's feet.

Blood covered his feet, then his ankles, then his calves, and then his knees.

With each inch he covered, he felt his power being suppressed a little.

This feeling is somewhat familiar.

"Tomb Guardian Beast —"

Xia Xinghan was all too familiar to him.

He first suffered a loss at the hands of the Ye family, and then the Ye family was destroyed. Based on the tomb guardian beast, he created the [Nine Netherworld Suppressing Mystery Diagram].

The pool of blood at this moment has an effect similar to the mystical power of the tomb guardian beast.

"stare"

The slightly deformed front door of the bus suddenly opened and folded up.

A figure rushed out of the car door.

He was a fat man.

He was extremely fat, as fat as a ball. Compared to him, Tian Shu was nothing.

But he was unusually agile, and what he was wearing was not ordinary clothes, but a paper shroud.

The paper was a stark white, and the workmanship was rough.

The fat man was still holding a knife in his hand.

An exaggeratedly large butcher knife.

The blade was three feet long and as wide as a palm, with a blunt edge and mottled bloodstains.

The bloodstains were not yet dry, still bright and dripping, as if the slaughter had just taken place. Each drop of blood wriggled, reflecting a distorted face.

The fat man swung his knife, aiming for Xia Xinghan's neck.

The knife fell.

"clang"

The sound of metal clashing.

The fat man's eyes widened.

The weapon, capable of easily dismembering a bizarre Class A pig-slaughtering knife, struck Xia Xinghan's neck, yet remained completely still.

"This—this—"

The fat man's mouth was wide open, and his face under the paper shroud was as white as paper.

Xia Xinghan, whose body was mostly covered in sticky, foul blood, slowly turned his head, grabbed the rusty pig-slaughtering knife with one hand, and looked at him calmly.

"Finished chopping?"

"what?"

"The ghost bus can't kill me, I can't control the ghost's blood pressure, and I can't dismember you with a butcher's knife! Damn it, could I have encountered some SSS-level supernatural event?!"

The fat man's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

He made a quick decision, abruptly loosening his grip on the knife handle and retreating rapidly.

At the same time, he also lifted the paper shroud, revealing layers upon layers of yellow paper underneath.

It turned out he wasn't really fat; his clothes were just stuffed with yellow paper meant for the dead.

"Splash!"

As the fat man retreated, the yellow paper fluttered in the wind, seemingly dancing wildly in the air, yet also appearing to have a clear target, before finally landing on Xia Xinghan amidst the chaos.

The dark red ghost blood, soaking the dried yellow paper, caused some inexplicable "chemical reaction," turning into some kind of "black mud" that was smeared on Xia Xinghan's body.

This is a superposition of bizarre forces!

"Damn it, we used so much yellow paper, we couldn't even break even by robbing a coffin shop."

"However, with the combined suppression of demon blood and yellow paper, even if you're fierce and powerful, you'll have to quiet down for a while!"

The fat man, feeling a pang of regret, cursed under his breath and quickly returned to the bus.

He was about to board the train, one foot already on the step inside the carriage, his figure noticeably thinner, when he suddenly stopped.

Because a hand was placed on his shoulder.

The fat man stiffly turned his head to look at the hand.

The owner of the hand was standing behind him, his handsome face very close.

He had sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, a nose as straight as a hanging gall bladder, and clearly defined lips.

It was an extremely handsome face, but in the fat man's eyes, it was more terrifying than any ghost.

Because that face didn't have the slightest hint of eeriness, but it possessed something far more terrifying than eeriness—absolute strength!

"Why are you running?"

Xia Xinghan remained calm, a faint smile playing on his lips. His voice was light and casual, yet it sent a shiver down the fat man's spine.

"How—how is this possible—"

The fat man's voice trembled, "How did you do that!?"

Because there were at least dozens of yellow papers stained with ghost blood clinging to his body, enough to suppress the S-class eerie creature for a moment.

But the result was that the strange power resulting from the combination of the two was completely unable to suppress Xia Xinghan.

The dark red and yellow paper, like dried-out wall plaster, was cracked and looked as if all the moisture had been drained away. It crumbled into powder at the slightest touch and fell off Xia Xinghan's body.

"My goodness, this is too eerie and ferocious!"

"Could he be the Ghost Lord of the Yin-Yang Path?!"

The fat man's legs went weak, and he almost knelt down.

But he did not kneel.

With all his might, the fat man turned and shouted into the dark carriage, "Captain! It's getting dangerous, let's get out of here!!"

His voice was choked with sobs, filled with fear, and also with a sense of despair, as if to say, "I've done my best."

The carriage was pitch black.

A strange blackness that devours all light sources.

The light shining through the car door only illuminated the pedals and the first row of seats; beyond that, nothing could be seen.

But at that moment, two eerie, chilling green lights appeared in the darkness.

Those are eyes.

The man in the driver's seat slowly turned his head.

He was wearing an old driver's hat, the brim pulled low so that his whole face was obscured. Only the lower half of his face, visible beneath the brim, was as pale as paper, as white as paper money, as white as a dead person.

His skin was completely bloodless, and his lips were deathly pale.

He was wearing a dark blue driver's uniform covered with all sorts of strange little objects, such as a bunch of rusty keys, a pocket watch, several yellowed tickets, and a thumb-sized, black and red pendant.

The man glanced at the fat man, then looked at Xia Xinghan standing outside the car.

Those eyes were a ghastly green, like two flickering will-o'-the-wisps.

But he didn't say anything.

Xia Xinghan didn't even look at him.

He simply patted the fat man's shoulder lightly, then strode towards the car door.

The fat man instinctively shrank to the side to make way for him.

Xia Xinghan stood at the car door, his gaze fixed on the pitch-black depths.

"There's no need to continue fighting."

His voice was calm, as if he were stating a fact.

"I am a living person."

The fat man hesitated for a moment, then nodded and said, "Captain, when I chopped him with the butcher's knife just now, the feel was indeed not like a sentient being, but rather like the flesh and blood of a living person."

In the darkness of the driver's cab, two green lights flickered faintly.

"Besides, you can't beat me either," Xia Xinghan added.

The fat man opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

At the very least, he definitely couldn't beat them.

Although he still had a few pieces of the bizarre puzzle on him that he hadn't fully utilized, the fat man knew that even if he played all his cards, it would be to no avail.

The gap is too big.

Facing Xia Xinghan was like facing the captain of the army.

Xia Xinghan continued, "Although I don't possess any strange powers or your so-called mechanisms, I have one advantage."

"That's the ultimate value!"

"My stats are so high that the system might not be able to suppress them."

These words, spoken calmly, stirred up a storm in the fat man's heart.

The mechanism can't control the numerical values?

Are you kidding me?

In this world, the bizarre is everything.

Guns and cannons? Useless!

Talismans? Useless!

Holy water? Useless!

Martial arts? Useless!

Those beings without any mechanisms, relying solely on brute force, were long ago torn to shreds by the bizarre, and it was an instant kill, without any suspense.

Mechanisms overcome everything!

This is common sense!!

Only the bizarre can fight the bizarre; that's common sense!

But this person—

It defies common sense about bizarre apocalyptic scenarios!

The fat man glanced at the bus with its dented front, then at his empty hands, and finally at the yellow paper scraps that had fallen from Xia Xinghan's body.

He was silent.

If even the mechanisms can't suppress this value, then the question is, just how high must this value be?!

Xia Xinghan's voice suddenly turned cold.

"I'll say it one last time."

"I am here to support you and quell the monstrous chaos ravaging this world, not as an enemy."

"If you attack again without explanation..."

His gaze swept across the darkness, over the two green lights, and over the other figures that were faintly visible inside the dark carriage.

"Don't blame me for disregarding our alliance; I can only kill a few people to calm you down."

The voice just fell.

A rope silently emerged from behind Xia Xinghan.

It was a very old hemp rope, with a rough surface and a grayish-brown color, as if it had been taken from the beam of an old house.

The rope was covered in dust and had several dark red marks, which were probably dried blood from chafed skin.

The hemp rope, like a snake, silently approached Xia Xinghan's neck.

It was put on silently and quietly.

Xia Xinghan did not turn around.

As if they were completely unaware of all this.

>