The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

Just as Morian was reciting the telegram, the thick smoke on the stage began to slowly dissipate.

Quilt's figure reappeared next to that lucky wheel.

He stretched out his white-gloved hand and spun the roulette wheel with an exaggerated smile.

This time, after spinning several times, the two pointers stopped at the same time and pointed to the symbol representing the "color ball" at the top of the roulette wheel!

The roulette wheel shone brightly! It illuminated Quilt like a god in the center of a stage, and the three remaining acrobatic balls at his waist instantly filled up, becoming four again.

"Oh! Thank God, I've won the lottery again!" Quilt exclaimed in a theatrical tone, glancing down at his waist with a smug and triumphant smile. "See, fate never hesitates to bestow its gifts upon the true winners!"

With the arrival of that newly added colored ball, the scales of victory seem to have tipped completely.

On this special "stage," Quillt, with the help of the roulette wheel, his Stand ability to save his life, and his ever-increasing power, is virtually invincible.

The audience erupted in applause and cheers. The blurry black figures fed back streams of "power" to the stage master, who squinted slightly, savoring the sweet taste of his growing power.

This scene also made Morian completely abandon the idea of ​​attrition warfare and then slowly searching for weaknesses.

We must decide the outcome with one decisive blow!

"God probably doesn't have a believer like you. I might as well send you to see Satan," Morian sneered, then swayed as he straightened up.

"At least for now, Lady Luck is on my side." Quilt chuckled, casually tossing a few throwing knives, no longer aiming for a direct hit, but throwing them into the air to torment his enemy.

Seeing several new bloody marks appear on his body, Morian expressionlessly downed two more bottles of recovery potion, and then made a seemingly irrational move.

He abandoned defense and fighting techniques, and just kept swinging his fists at Quilt.

In contrast, a hint of disdain flashed in Quilt's eyes as he perfectly dodged one clumsy attack after another.

Quilt would sometimes do a backflip to dodge punches, sometimes use agile footwork to avoid collisions, and sometimes even make dangerous dodges.

"What? Have you given up?" Quilt's ferocious face gradually twisted, and his smug sense of superiority was on full display.

"Or has the sheer difference in strength driven him to utter madness?"

He deliberately slowed down his movements, letting his fist glide past the edge of his costume, then made a patting motion on his chest, as if he was still shaken.

An exaggerated and theatrical performance is conducive to getting cheers from the audience, which in turn becomes a source of energy for him!

Morian completely ignored the taunts, mechanically repeating the actions of getting injured, taking medicine, and then chasing after the enemy. Whenever a new wound appeared, he would immediately drink several more doses of medicine.

"How boring." Quilt stopped dodging, stood still with his arms outstretched, a mocking, condescending smile on his face. "Should I stop and wait for you?"

Morian, who had been keeping his head down and repeating his attack motions, suddenly raised his head at this moment, his eyes beneath the shattered mask unusually calm.

Ah, that's really... wonderful.

He had been waiting for this moment: the moment when his opponent, due to his overwhelming advantage and greed for audience feedback, became complacent and began to play tricks on him!

Almost the instant Quilt stopped, Morian reached into his robes again, this time pulling out a blue scroll with hurricane runes!

Spiritual essence infused, reel activated!

A violent gust of air rose up from below without warning beneath Quilt's feet, the powerful wind pressure completely enveloping him. He was lifted up by the hurricane without any resistance and suspended in mid-air.

Quilt struggled briefly, but finding it futile, he simply stopped wasting his energy and let the hurricane carry him.

"Fine, but so what?" He scoffed, shouting defiantly at Morian below, "Even if I can't move, what can you do to me...?"

Before the word "method" could even be uttered, the suspended hurricane suddenly dissipated.

Losing the support of the wind, Quilt plummeted from mid-air.

In the chaotic vision of his falling descent, he saw the figure who should have been exhausted swinging a fist that exuded a terrifying aura and was wrapped in crimson shadows as it came crashing down on him.

The fist filled Quilt's entire field of vision in his rapidly dilating pupils.

Impartial and straight, right in the middle!

Click!

The sound of bones breaking was clearly audible, echoing in the silent stage space.

In an instant, Quilt crashed backward like a tattered sack, shattering the entire stage and audience seating area, before crashing back into the dark and damp city of Bet.

Ignore survival, destroy!

The entire stage space, along with the "stand-in colored balls" and the destroyed roulette wheel, collapsed under the attack of this destructive will.

Boom! Boom!

The stage space began to collapse; the curtains, the carpet, and even the blurry shadows of the "audience" below the stage—all illusions were rapidly crumbling.

The next second, the cold rain lashed against Morian's face again.

Not far ahead, on the wet street, Quilt lay sprawled in a mud puddle like a dead dog. He struggled to his feet, looked around, and his disoriented, bewildered eyes were filled with disbelief.

Where are my audience? Where is my stage?!

"No! Impossible!" Quilt roared, disregarding his image, like a child whose beloved toy had been taken away, his previous confidence now completely gone.

"What did you do?!"

"You ruined my stage?!"

"Do you even realize how much this cost me, or how much value it holds?!"

Quilt was trembling with rage. It was the "spiritual construct" he had painstakingly built by discovering the "Fool" ether, which was his trump card and strongest means, and now it had been completely destroyed.

Why can a Level 1 character destroy a spiritual construct? This makes no sense at all!

Quilt tried to muster his power again, but immediately realized that his body was weak. The backlash from the destruction of the "stage" was far more severe than he had imagined.

Damn it! Damn it! From being betrayed by that stupid woman to being searched by the police, and then being ambushed and intercepted by this guy while fleeing in the rain, all this bad luck is just so damn bad!

It's like they've been targeting me from the very beginning!

In the end, they were driven to the brink of despair by these tiny, weak insects, which was more humiliating than defeat itself.

He recalled all his unsatisfactory and frustrating experiences, and his anger and resentment reached their peak. Ignoring his physical weakness, he squeezed out the last bit of spiritual energy and forcibly condensed it in his palm.

A blinding white light shone again, and a phantom flaming spear radiating terrifying heat slowly took shape. The light illuminated his hideous and twisted face, and also revealed Morian's equally scarred figure.

"Heh heh heh, come on! You don't want to kill me?!" Quilt laughed maniacally, as if emboldening himself, "You newbie, go ahead and try!"

"Value?" Morian sneered, his bleeding right hand trembling and hanging limply. "When you were torturing those lives, did you ever consider their value?"