I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 108, Level 3 [Flesh and Bone]! (10K long chapter, please vote and subscribe)

The night was dark.

O'Connor walked out of a motel and drove away.

Isabella left ten minutes later.

Instead of going home, she drove directly to Brian and handed him a USB drive.

Brian plugged the USB drive into the laptop, examined it carefully, and then said with satisfaction, "Very good, girl."

They've got their hands on O'Connor's weaknesses too.

Miles betrayed Brian once, but he learned his lesson and will never make the same mistake again.

It was precisely this ability to quickly learn from experience that allowed Brian to rise from a police officer from an ordinary family to his current position.

From now on, everyone who works for him will have something to hide.

O'Connor was no exception, although he always appeared to be loyal.

Brian glanced at Doug but said nothing.

Isabella wrapped her arms around Brian's neck, appearing very intimate.

Brian sneered, "What? O'Connor hasn't satisfied you yet?"

Isabella said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "I don't like spineless cowards, especially not idiots! He wasn't wary at all when we first met, and I filmed him. O'Connor is a good executor, but he lacks common sense. Never let him make decisions; it will be a disaster!"

Isabella grabbed Brian's hand and pulled him towards her.

Brian laughed and pressed Isabella's head down.

Isabella obediently crawled under the desk.

Doug closed the door and left.

Several tens of minutes later, Isabella and Brian began to tidy their clothes.

Isabella's face was flushed, and she looked very satisfied.

As Isabella dressed, she asked, "Last time you asked me to write two CEA cards for that kid named Richard. Who is he?"

Brian glanced at Isabella without changing his expression and calmly said, "He saved my life."

"Come on, Brian," Isabella scoffed. "Don't try to fool me with that. If it were just that, you might give him a CEA card if he asked, but you definitely wouldn't give it to him willingly. We both know what kind of person he is, don't lie to me. Tell me, what's the point of that kid?"

Isabella pressed for more information.

Brian was slightly displeased, but still offered a perfect reason: "He is Christina Shepard's academic successor. Christina has enormous influence in academia and medicine, and you know how much wealthy people value their lives. I've never seen Christina value any young person so much. I think he might even inherit the cell lab in the future; everyone knows how capable people from Tokyo University are. Of course, that's a long way off, at least until Dr. Richard graduates. This is just an early investment in goodwill."

Isabella reapplied her lipstick, rolled up the torn stockings, put them in a plastic bag, and stuffed them into her handbag.

Brian flushed the safety umbrella directly into the toilet.

"Hmph. Men are all the same." Isabella sneered. "So, you're currying favor with that Richard for the damn money in the hands of the rich?"

Brian said nonchalantly, "Who isn't in it for the money? I've heard Richard's doing well at OCME; his skills are praised by all the forensic pathologists. Maybe he'll become a renowned surgical expert someday. Everyone needs a doctor, and so do we."

"Forensic pathologist!" Isabella shuddered and decided to stay away from that damned profession.

Even if Richard is a genius, has excellent surgical skills, and can save lives, I will never let his hands touch my skin!

She is not averse to meat, but she is terrified of forensic medicine, a profession that involves dealing with corpses year-round.

After they got dressed, Isabella immediately made more demands.

She didn't have the patience to wait; she knew all too well that things could go wrong if she waited too long.

Now that Henry Carter has decided to promote her, she's determined to get it done immediately and force Byron to resign and get out of here!

"I have no patience to wait any longer." Isabella regained her composure, looking at Brian with no room for negotiation: "Get Byron out of here! Now!"

19

Brian wasn't angry at all; instead, he gave her an approving look and said, "I like you."

Brian's voice was low and deep, like that of an ambitious lion who had found the perfect partner.

Isabella parted her red lips slightly: "If you like me, help me become the director of the NYPD."

"Oh, oh, oh. You're really ambitious, the first female director of the NYPD." When Isabella first mentioned it, Brian thought she was making an exorbitant demand.

Now it seems she's serious.

"Who says a woman can't be the NYPD chief? Isn't this a perfect opportunity to promote diversity policies?"

Brian pondered for a moment, then hesitated.

"If you support me as the bureau chief, I will bring you many female voters."

"I will seriously consider this matter."

The two walked out of the office side by side, and Doug followed.

"Where do we go next?"

Isabella, as usual, gave Doug a flirty wink, but Doug, as usual, ignored her.

Brian said, "The situation is much better now. All we need to do is take down that old bastard Henry, and control of the NYPD will be back in our hands."

He didn't need to hide his purpose from Isabella.

The two share the same goal.

"Kill Byron right now!" Isabella emphasized repeatedly.

She had no patience to wait even a moment.

Her life motto is: every action must yield results, and every effort must be rewarded.

"No problem. That old bastard dared to threaten me, I won't let him get away with it." Brian's voice was laced with bloodlust.

"I'll go with you," Isabella pressed on.

Brian scoffed. "Looks like you don't have much faith in me."

Isabella said coldly, "My experience tells me that anything can fly away before the meat is eaten. As the Eastern proverb says, even a cooked duck can fly away. I need to eat the meat, digest it, and then it will be mine!"

"The wisdom of the East is truly remarkable," Brian casually remarked, thinking to himself that perhaps he should also learn more about the proverbs of the East.

I just don't know if my lord is truly the Lord of the East, or just someone wearing the skin of the Lord of the East?

If he is a god, why would he wear the skin of Lord Tou?

In the United States, wouldn't it be better to use a white person or someone of that race?

Could he be a deity from Tokyo University?

Brian was lost in thought.

dong dong dong.

There was a knock on the door.

.

Who is it?

The person who opened the door was Byron's wife, a kind-faced old lady.

She saw Brian Anderson and gave him a warm hug.

"Brian, it's been a long time."

"Anselm, it's been a long time. I've come to see my old friend."

Mrs. Byron smiled and said, "He's sitting inside, not feeling well, and not in a good mood."

Brian reassured him, "It's okay. The NYPD fire was a disaster, and everyone needs time to adjust."

Mrs. Byron smiled kindly and said, "You still have such a good way with words. You two chat."

97

She took a broom and a snow shovel and went into the yard, leaving the space to the two men.

Brian walked into the study carrying a bottle of wine.

Byron sat in the shadows of the sofa, watching him coldly.

Brian didn't seem to mind, smiling as he raised the bottle in his hand and placed it on the liquor cabinet.

"I never drink your wine," Byron said coldly, showing no politeness whatsoever.

Brian didn't care. He casually picked through Byron's liquor cabinet, eventually choosing the most expensive bottle, shaking it, and opening it without any hesitation.

Byron felt a pang of pain, and his face twitched.

Brian, holding a bottle of liquor in one hand and two glasses in the other, placed them in front of the two men: "I quite enjoy your liquor."

"It's very impolite to take other people's things without permission."

"Yeah?"

"You don't even say thank you."

Brian looked Byron straight in the eye and said slowly, "I never take; I always steal."

Byron's lips twitched slightly: "Did you come here specifically to mock me?"

Brian smiled and stood by the window looking out.

From this vantage point, one could see Mrs. Byron shoveling snow in the yard. Despite her age, she still retained her charm: "I remember what Mrs. Byron looked like when she was young; she was very beautiful."

Byron gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He glared at Brian, then looked on in dismay to find Brian looking energetic, with a straight back, shiny hair, and smooth skin.

Byron himself had gray hair, sunken skin, and even age spots.

Brian was even a few years older than him, but now Byron looked like he was twenty years older than Brian!

God is so unfair!

"If you came here to mock me, you've achieved your goal and can leave now."

Brian laughed. "I wouldn't do something so pointless. I've won my whole life, and I'll keep winning. I never flaunt my achievements in front of a loser. Only incompetent people do that. I'm different from you; I only fight the strong."

Byron's face turned ashen; every word was like a thorn, piercing deep into his heart. In the end, he bravely endured it: "Enough! What exactly do you want? I have no time for playing games with you."

Brian laughed heartily: "See? You've always been so impatient."

Byron gritted his teeth: "I'm impatient! This evidence has been hidden for over thirty years. If you hadn't been lucky enough to have the fire destroy it, you would be dead."

But it's no use saying anything now.

After the fire, I became the most vulnerable party.

Brian laughed. "Looks like God is on my side too. Maybe it's because you went against Saint Debbie that God sent down divine punishment."

"What bullshit saintess?" Byron gritted his teeth.

He doesn't believe in that stuff.

Seeing that Byron was about to lose control, Brian took out a letter and placed it on the table, saying bluntly, "You resign. Mayor Manderson wrote a personal letter agreeing not to pursue the matter further and will try to persuade Chief Henry."

Byron's heart skipped a beat; this was exactly what he needed right now.

If you are held accountable for dereliction of duty, not only will you lose your pension, but you might also be arrested and imprisoned.

He had served as the chief of general affairs at the IAB his entire life and could not accept this humiliation.

Byron suppressed his excitement, tried to remain calm, and steadily opened the letter.

The letter contained only three lines: "Dear Mr. Byron, Merry Christmas and may you enjoy your later years. —Manderson-Bell"

The words were subtle, but enough.

Politicians can sometimes break their promises, but at other times they must keep their word.

Now is the time for Mayor to keep his promise.

Byron's heart finally settled.

In an instant, his body hunched over, as if he had given up on everything: "Let it end like this, all of this."

Brian smiled and raised his glass: "That was a wise decision."

"How did you do that?" Byron asked, unwilling to give up.

"What is it?"

"That fire."

Brian said seriously, "Don't frame me. How would I know how the NYPD fire started? It must have been due to your mismanagement."

Byron curled his lip. "You're always so cautious. What's the point?"

Brian smiled without saying a word.

He learned his lesson after discovering that the old scoundrel had hidden a piece of evidence for thirty years.

The two looked at each other for a long time.

Brian never mentioned leaving.

Byron had no choice but to pick up his phone in front of Brian and send a short message to Henry Carter: "Due to my health condition, I hereby formally submit my resignation and hope that Director Carter will approve it."

Brian finally laughed: "Old friend, enjoy your retirement."

He finished the drink in one gulp and placed the glass on the wine cabinet.

"Your wine tastes awful."

After saying that, he turned and left.

Byron watched his retreating figure, seething with hatred.

"What an rude jerk!"

Brian went into the yard, gave Mrs. Byron a warm kiss on the cheek to say goodbye, and then got into his car and left.

Mrs. Byron entered and quietly asked, "How is it?"

Byron gritted his teeth: "That guy is too cautious."

He pulled a listening device from under the table and smashed it: "He's very tight-lipped; there's no evidence whatsoever."

Mrs. Byron was not surprised. She looked at the contents of the letter and said, "That's good. At least I can retire peacefully."

Byron sighed.

He was very unwilling, but what could he do? He had never been able to defeat Brian in his entire life.

Then forget it.

Brian got back into the car, and the vehicle slowly started moving.

Isabella asked anxiously, "How is it?"

"Byron has already sent a message to Henry Carter, submitting his resignation. You will soon become the official Chief of General Affairs."

Isabella finally smiled with satisfaction and gave Brian a big kiss on the cheek.

Brian quickly pushed her away and calmly said, "Keep your distance."

Isabella scoffed, "You're good at putting on airs in public."

"Stop the car!" Isabella pushed open the door and got out, leaving in her high heels. She was in a hurry to get back to the NYPD to confirm the matter.

The vehicle started again.

Doug glanced at Brian in the rearview mirror as he drove: "Boss, is Mayor Manderson really planning to pardon Byron? How did you get that letter? Byron's escaped, who's going to take the blame?"

Brian and Doug exchanged a glance in the rearview mirror for a second, then Brian chuckled and said, "That letter was forged by me."

Doug raised an eyebrow: "That's a brilliant idea."

Richard took his phone and walked to the garage, where he found a keychain under a hat in the back seat.

The keychain is made from a photo of the two of them, taken that day in front of OCME, showing them standing under a streetlamp.

It appears to be handcrafted from pure silver. Such a custom-made item would probably cost at least several hundred dollars, which is quite extravagant for Helen's income.

Richard said into the phone, "I really like it, thank you."

Helen then smiled: "I'm going back tomorrow. Get some rest, and I hope to see you soon."

Richard hung up the phone, put the keychain in his pocket, and went back to his room.

Debbie looked a little listless, lying on the sofa with her cat in her arms, lost in thought.

Today's events were a bit too much for her.

Even if Richard temporarily alleviated her fear, the memories would replay and resurface in her mind, causing new fears.

For ordinary people, Richard's ability to control desires makes it impossible to maintain desires at a certain level for an extended period.

It can only be controlled for the instant the magic is used.

Ultimately, it depends on one's own psychological adjustment.

However, the most difficult time has passed, and now it's up to Debbie to do it herself.

The shadow hopped and skipped, but when it saw Richard come in, it shrank into Debbie's arms and didn't dare to look at Richard at all.

This cat is indeed a bit eerie; it can even sense that something is wrong with me.

How lofty is its spirit?

It can't be more than 10, right?

"I'm going upstairs to sleep." Debbie hugged the cat and went upstairs dejectedly.

Richard sat in his study, wearing glasses, studying reports and future plans.

After busying herself for a while, Catherine brought over two cups of hot coffee and handed one to Richard.

The two leaned against the window, looking at the snow scene outside.

The heavy snow has started again, and it just won't stop.

A small Christmas tree stood in the yard, decorated with colorful lights, creating a festive atmosphere.

In the distance, the piercing sirens of police cars blared again, and fire trucks sped past not far away.

Following the fire at the NYPD headquarters, control over the entire city of New York was significantly reduced.

The gang, which had just been suppressed to the brink of collapse, has resurfaced and is causing trouble in retaliation.

Police sirens could be heard everywhere all day.

Of course, the most tragic incident was the Princeton shooting.

It is said that among the more than thirty people who died, one was the son of a city councilor and another was the daughter of a billionaire.

The mayor and police chief must be having a tough time these next few days.

Richard's lips curled into a slight smile.

The more chaotic the better; the more chaotic it is, the more corpses OCME will have.

Catherine said softly, "Actually, I was a little scared today. When I saw the news, I was wondering whether we should continue with Debbie's canonization."

Regardless, she is Debbie's mother.

I said I wasn't scared at the time, but after calming down, I still feel a little scared.

If Debbie were to have her head smashed in public, even Richard wouldn't be able to handle it directly. It would be difficult to explain if she were to be resurrected after her head was smashed.

Richard calmly asked, "If Debbie weren't a saint, could today's events have been avoided?"

Catherine thought for a moment: "No. That person killed randomly."

Shootings are common throughout the United States; this is all too common, and even schools cannot guarantee absolute safety.

Richard nodded. "So the stronger Debbie is, the safer she will be. If she becomes a saint, the church should arrange some security measures for her, which would actually make her safer."

"You're right." Catherine wrapped her arms around Richard's waist, inhaling his scent, and her uneasy heart calmed down a little.

Richard turned to look at her.

The moonlight streamed through the window and fell on Catherine's face, making her look radiant and beautiful.

As she spent more time with Richard, Catherine's style became increasingly Eastern, including her makeup, which was quite different from that of other American women.

"Debbie is asleep," she whispered.

"Um.

""

Catherine is asleep.

Richard, wearing his pajamas, went upstairs and entered Debbie's room.

The usually boisterous little girl is now curled up, hugging her tiny shadow as she sleeps in bed.

A person and a cat were curled up in the middle of the huge bed, looking small and a little pitiful.

.

Richard could hear Debbie's stomach rumbling.

She's dieting again.

He didn't know why Debbie was so insistent on cheerleading.

She clearly can't do anything else.

This is the only thing she persisted in, even at such a high cost.

Dieting is difficult, let alone having to maintain dance training while dieting.

Richard sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Debbie, feeling as if she were a little pet he had raised.

Shadow groggily raised his head, sensed someone coming up, and saw it was Richard. He was so frightened that his hair stood on end, and he jumped off the bed and crawled under it, too scared to come out.

Richard smiled.

This cat is indeed extraordinary.

When will they kill him and resurrect him as a servant?

"Meow!" The shadow scurried away in a panic.

Debbie seemed to have been woken up.

In her sleep, she reached out and grabbed, but couldn't find a shadow. However, she grabbed Richard, rolled over, hugged his waist, and rubbed her head against him, muttering something.

The sound was very soft, but Richard could hear it.

She was calling out "Daddy," and there were tears welling up in her eyes.

Richard watched silently for a while, then placed his hand on Debbie's waist.

She was only wearing a very short, cropped camisole nightgown, and her sleeping posture was rather unseemly, exposing her entire waist, which was completely white.

Debbie dances all year round, so she doesn't have much fat around her waist, and you can even see the lines of her abs.

Even by the standards of Eastern women, she is considered on the thinner side.

In addition, Western women naturally have wider hips, making their waist-to-hip ratio appear more prominent.

But that's still not enough.

Richard had seen that Super Bowl cheerleading uniform; it looked like something a child would wear.

Even most Asian women would find it difficult to fit into, let alone an American woman like Debbie.

Debbie murmured again in her sleep, "Daddy."

A few more tears rolled down her cheeks.

Richard patted her on the back, like he was coaxing a pet.

Debbie fell asleep again.

Richard thought to himself silently.

The flesh and blood control technique requires extracting fresh flesh and blood from a wound. How does that work?

He doesn't yet understand what fresh flesh and blood are; this requires a long period of research.

Another question is about the skill description: it allows you to absorb fresh flesh and blood from the wounds of any animal.

Here's a crucial question: why a wound?

Why can't it be absorbed when it comes into contact with the skin?

What's the difference between a wound and skin?

How big of a wound is considered a wound?

Do mosquito bites count?

The panel provides no explanation.

Since there's no explanation, then theoretically even some very small wounds would count.

Even smaller things, like plucking a hair, don't they also leave a tiny hole?

If this is considered a wound, then what is the limit of a wound?

Most people have extremely fine abrasions on their skin surface, but they are not visible to the naked eye.

Friction from wearing clothes, scratches, scrubbing during bathing, and even dry weather can all cause damage to epidermal cells, exposing the living cells underneath.

In other words, there are always wounds on the surface of the human body, but we just can't feel them.

Is the definition of a wound simply that the epidermal cells have ruptured, exposing the underlying living cells?

Why?

Why are the epidermal cells not functioning properly?

In an instant, a flash of inspiration struck Richard.

correct!

The surface of human skin is entirely composed of the stratum corneum, which is made up of dead, nucleus-free keratinocytes.

From a purely medical perspective, the human body is covered by a layer of dead cells, which acts like a protective shell, keeping the body inside.

In other words, flesh and blood control can only work on living flesh and blood, while epidermal cells are not living cells, so exposed wounds are required.

From this perspective, since there is always minute wear and tear on the surface of human skin, meaning that there are always traces of living cells exposed on the epidermis, it's just that ordinary people can't see them.

Richard's fingers gently pressed against Debbie's waist.

Flesh and Blood Control Activated!

In an instant, he saw a three-dimensional image of Debbie's entire body: blood vessels, tendons, fat, and organs, like a living skeleton superimposed on the girl's body.

Even the youngest girl, no matter how quickly or how soft her skin recovers, will still have all sorts of scratches and abrasions on her skin.

For example, a hard belt can easily chafe the skin around the waist, but most of the time you don't even feel it because it's so subtle.

Bra marks can also leave deep indentations, which are essentially abrasions of keratinocytes.

It also exists elsewhere, but in more subtle ways.

Since there's a wound, it should be able to absorb fresh blood and flesh!

Richard's vision suddenly changed, and the three-dimensional image controlled by flesh and blood changed again, becoming even more detailed!

He could clearly see a patch of skin where his fingers were touching; countless keratinocytes formed the body's first protective layer, beneath which were vibrant, living cells.

The epidermal cells are covered with grooves and ravines, which are tiny wounds that can only be seen with a magnifying glass.

All of this was exposed to Richard's view.

Once the wound is discovered, the Flesh and Blood Control effect takes effect immediately.

Subcutaneous fat is precisely separated and absorbed, transformed into fresh flesh and blood, and flows into the Blood and Corpse Box.

However, because the wound was too small, the process was very slow.

Richard kept adjusting the position of his fingers, moving them slowly across the skin to extract fat bit by bit, ensuring even absorption.

Debbie probably felt a little itchy, so she squirmed and changed to a flat position, which exposed her entire abdomen.

Richard gently pressed on her right side of her abdomen.

Fresh flesh and blood slowly flowed out.

Debbie didn't frown in her sleep; instead, she looked relaxed, which meant she wasn't in pain, or at least not uncomfortable.

Richard stopped after drawing about 0.5 units of fresh flesh and blood.

According to his repeated calculations, one unit is roughly equivalent to about 1.5 kilograms of fat.

That's already a lot.

Debbie's senses are quite obvious, take it slow, no rush.

Another advantage of this liposuction method is that ordinary people can only reduce fat through dieting and exercise when they want to lose weight.

Many women will see their fat decrease in areas they don't want to lose.

Richard's method only reduces fat in specific areas, making it the most perfect way to lose fat!

At that moment, a system notification suddenly sounded.

"Ding! You have independently discovered a way to observe flesh and blood at the microscopic level, and your understanding of flesh and blood has become more profound. Knowledge of [Flesh and Blood and Bones]: Level 2, 99% → 109%"

"Ding! The [Flesh and Bone] knowledge branch has been upgraded to level 3 with a 9% increase! Constitution +9."

"Ding! Your constitution has reached 18 points, exceeding the human limit. Upgrading [Flesh and Bones] will no longer increase your constitution unless you use magic to modify your body to raise its limit."

"Ding! You have learned a new skill, [Skeleton Nest]: Find a piece of land of bones and build a skeleton nest. The requirements for building a skeleton nest vary depending on the environment of the bone land, and the functions of the generated skeleton nest will also be different."

The continuous system notifications greatly surprised Richard.

This growth was so unexpected; he felt that his physical abilities had improved tremendously.

A searing heat surged from deep within the bones, like magma filling every skeletal structure, causing the muscle fibers to tremble slightly and re-weave into a denser network.

My skin felt taut, as if it had been compressed by an invisible force.

My breathing became deep and slow, and my heartbeat was steady and powerful, like a finely tuned engine.

He could even feel the contraction of every muscle fiber and the surge of blood with each beat.

The whole world seemed to slow down, and even the falling snowflakes in the distance seemed to slow down.

This is a comprehensive upgrade in reaction, speed, strength, defense, and endurance!

Richard tested his defensive abilities by lightly slicing his arm with a dagger.

The skin is like tough cowhide, with extremely strong elasticity and toughness.

When the tip of the knife gently pokes down, the skin feels pain but not injury; it only sinks in, experiencing tremendous resistance.

If you apply even a little pressure, it will still bleed.

Of course, Ji Cha's slight exertion was equivalent to an ordinary person's full strength.

Therefore, if this were the era of cold weapons, I would be invincible.

It's a pity we have guns now.

Richard estimated that his current physical abilities were roughly equivalent to those of a third-rate martial arts master in a wuxia novel, such as the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan or the Four Ghosts of the Yellow River.

The necromancer's physique is already so high, it would be great if he got the warrior system instead.

If a warrior's specialization reaches level three, even in the free-for-all shooting game of America, their physique and defense would grow to the point where they'd say "I don't eat beef."

Unfortunately, the mage still has to play it safe.

What's more troublesome is that once one's physique exceeds human limits, one must use magic to modify the body in order to continue improving it.

How to modify it?

Richard didn't know.

You can't exactly transform yourself into a lich, can you?

Richard didn't want to become something that was neither human nor ghost.

And this skeleton nest sounds like it's for summoning skeletons or ghosts, but the requirements are unclear, so there's no way to prepare anything in advance.

The best place for bones, now has a very good target: Hart Island.

There are definitely enough skeletons there.

However, only after landing on the island and observing the land of bones can the skeleton nest give a clear construction requirement.

The Flesh and Blood Control skill was enhanced, allowing him to see cells and extract fat without injury.

The effect of liposuction is already quite good, but it is not the best use. If this skill were used to treat cancer, it would be a killer!

Richard can extract and kill all cancer cells. As long as the cancer is not in its late stage and the disease has progressed to the point of organ failure, Richard can even completely eradicate the cancer.

Of course, Richard wouldn't rush into treatment, as that would bring huge risks and hidden dangers.

The best way would be for Debbie to shake hands with a cancer patient and act like a saint, while she pretends to support the patient, thus extracting a large number of cancer cells into "fresh flesh and blood".

However, this shouldn't be done too often, otherwise it will definitely attract the attention of medical companies.

Therefore, even when using Debbie as a cover, it should be used cautiously, and each use should be valuable.

The ability to extract cells without causing injury must have many other special uses.

For example, if some nerve cells are removed from certain locations, such as the spinal cord, a person will suffer from high-level paraplegia.

It might even be able to precisely extract brain cells, perhaps even causing Alzheimer's disease?

We can't find anything by searching!

The scope of this magic is vast, and there are many areas that still need to be explored, each of which seems inhumane.

Li realized that he was becoming more and more like an evil necromancer.

Richard touched the keychain Helen had given him in his pocket, and on the middle finger of his other hand was a plain ring engraved with "Christmas" and "DD," the initials of Debbie Dixon.

However, this upgrade is the best Christmas gift!

In a dimly lit room, only the monitor emitted a blinding light.

With bloodshot eyes, Liam huddled in front of the computer. He was so hungry that he couldn't stand it anymore, so he picked up a half-empty bottle of Coke and a cold hamburger from the table and ate them to barely fill his stomach.

He spent endless time browsing the internet, finding only a sliver of happiness there.

Well, the main methods are farming blue planes and OF.

He especially followed OF, and he paid attention to many OF female bodhisattvas, spending most of the money he earned from delivering packages on them.

Suddenly, he came across a female bodhisattva named Rose.

All videos do not show the head or nipples; they only feature seductive photos and videos, purely showcasing the body.

It's a bit of a shame, but she really has a fantastic figure.

And it stopped updating a month ago.

Even so, this female bodhisattva named Rose has gained thousands of followers, purely because of her good figure.

Liam casually posted a comment: "These junks are everywhere on Miami beaches, and they charge money for them?"

After saying that, he continued watching Rose's video.

There weren't many videos, and he finished watching them quickly. To his surprise, in the last video, Rose was wearing a D.Va outfit!

"I gave you this dress before!"

A little over a month ago, when he was delivering a package, the packaging was damaged, and inside was a D.VA costume.

He initially thought it was a cosplayer's outfit, so he just glanced at it, stuffed the outfit back in, and sealed it up.

I never expected that Rose would wear it!

Is it possible that they are wearing the same outfit?

Is it really that much of a coincidence?

Is Rose in New York?

Liam quickly searched through his previous delivery records and soon found the order, which was placed a month and a half ago at YC Apartments.

Liam wasn't sure either, so he tentatively sent Rose a private message: "I know you live in YC Apartments. If you don't want your identity to be revealed, continue posting videos tomorrow."

Helen lay in her little room, the one she often lived in as a child, which her grandmother had kept and kept very clean year-round.

She opened the 0F client on her phone and decided to delete all the videos, bidding farewell to 0F completely.

After a period of confirmation, OCME's revenue is sufficient to offset OF's revenue, and it can even earn more.

On OF, because she doesn't show her face or nipples and posts few videos, her sales aren't good; they're barely enough to make a living.

My grandmother's whole family are devout Catholics. If they were discovered, they would be driven to the brink of suicide.

Helen made up her mind and deleted the videos one by one.

After deleting all the videos, then delete the private messages.

Most of the private messages are just vulgar and meaningless comments from lewd people.

Suddenly, a new private message popped up: "I know you live in YC Apartments. If you don't want your identity to be revealed, continue posting videos tomorrow."

Helen froze.

A wave of immense fear washed over her; what she had always feared had become a reality.

impossible!

How did this person find me?!

Does anyone know I live in YC Apartments?

I have never shown my face, and I have checked it repeatedly every time I upload a video.

She has no obvious markings such as tattoos on her body, so it's impossible for anyone to recognize her just by looking at her body.

Moreover, she usually dresses very conservatively, and apart from that dinner party, no one could see her figure at all.

Who exactly is this person?

Who still knows they have OF, Richard?

Certainly not.

Richard wouldn't do something so pointless. If he wanted to see me, he could just come to my house; I wouldn't refuse...

Could it be a hacker?

Helen didn't understand hacking techniques, nor did she know what hackers could do, or whether they were OF officials.

Her mind went blank, and it took her a while to come to her senses before she realized what was happening; her sleepiness had completely vanished.

She immediately sat up and frantically sent back a message: "You're breaking the law and violating my privacy rights. Stop immediately, or I'll call the police!"

Liam was just testing the waters casually; D.Va's cosplay outfit was very common, and he wasn't particularly confident.

But Rose actually replied!

Furthermore, she deleted all the videos, which means that Rose must have guessed correctly to be so scared as to delete all the videos.

She lives in YC Apartments!

Liam got excited and immediately sent another message: "Deleting the videos won't help, I've already saved them all. If you don't post any new videos tomorrow, I'll post your OF account on the door of the YC apartment building."

Oh no! We've really been targeted! Helen felt a chill run down her spine. She had been worried about this kind of trouble, but she hadn't completely lost her mind yet: "I will never send any more videos. I can give you some money, otherwise I'll call the police."

money?

Liam was stunned; he never expected to be able to get money from OF Girls.

As a former engineer at an aerospace structure company, his only expertise was in designing and repairing various electronic systems on aircraft.

From childhood to adulthood, the only women he had ever encountered were online; he had never even had direct contact with a woman.

Later, that damn Dongda guy stole his business, and he lost his job, so he had to work as a food delivery driver.

"Okay, give me 0.1 Bitcoin, right now! Otherwise, I'll release your information publicly!"

The two newbies started a heated online battle, each making numerous mistakes.

Helen was a little confused: "Bitcoin? What country's currency is that?"

"Fk!" Liam almost cursed out loud.

The stupid OF girl must be one of those brainless college cheerleaders who went to a lousy public university, didn't have the guts to find a sugar daddy, and could only make money by making some suggestive videos.

In an instant, Liam conjured up the image of a naive and sweet girl in his mind.

Teaching this stupid woman how to use BitCity is practically impossible!

Liam decisively gave up: "Go prepare cash, old currency, not consecutive serial numbers. I'll tell you the time and place of the transaction. Don't try to track me down, or I'll publish your information directly."

The message has ended.

What should I do? Helen stared blankly at her phone.

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