Am I going to be controlled by the players too?

A jet-black sword light tore through the rain curtain, pointing straight at Cheng Cheng's throat.

Holy crap!

Cheng Cheng's pupils contracted sharply. With a combat power of 800 against 1300, the advantage was in his hands!

"Look! The demon god has descended!" he exclaimed, pointing sharply at the altar.

"what?"

All the Tantric practitioners were taken aback, and even Cicero couldn't help but look back.

The wind is tight, shout!

Cheng Cheng smashed the skull of the enemy in front of him with a single blow, then turned and ran wildly down the mountain!

The level difference is too great to overcome; we might as well look for a way to avoid the boss fight!

"Hmph, trying to escape?" Cicero scoffed. "Chase them!"

Cheng Cheng was very confident.

Just kidding, I'm a sports student. My best time in the 100 meters in high school was 10.01 seconds. If it weren't for the money manipulating the stopwatch to 11 seconds, I would have been in the world competition long ago. When it comes to running, who am I afraid of?

Moreover, this body is now at level 9, my physical abilities have increased many times over, and I ran away in advance, do you still think you can catch up with me?

The scenery on both sides rushed past as Cheng Cheng achieved the best result of his life!

"If I had that speed in reality, I could beat Usain Bolt and win the world championship!"

As he was thinking this, a strange sound came from behind him:

"Boom boom boom boom boom boom—"

Turning around, I saw that the group of cultists had somehow produced more than a dozen ghost fire motorcycles, looking fierce and menacing, and they were speeding down from the mountaintop!

Cheng Cheng: "..."

No way, why are you riding motorcycles in a Western fantasy setting?! Are you guys Vulcan Mavica?!

I was thinking it was the Middle Ages when I saw things like torches, wooden carts, and longswords. Turns out your technology level is pretty high!

Cheng Cheng gritted his teeth and, without hesitation, plunged into the dark woods beside him.

The complex terrain in the forest managed to slow the motorcycle down a little, but the pursuers behind it still kept close behind.

"Quick, chase them!"

"Catch the heretic and reward him with five credits!"

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh!"

A generous reward will surely bring forth brave men; soon, a cultist began to shout:

"The one in the beige coat in front is a heretic!"

Without thinking, Cheng Cheng ripped off his British-style coat and threw it away.

"Chase!"

"The one with the long white hair in front is a heretic!"

Cheng Cheng frowned, pulled out the "training sword" from his backpack, and with a backhand swing, shaved his waist-length white hair into a neat short haircut.

"Don't let her get away!"

"The one wearing a JK uniform in front of you is a heretic!"

"This trick again?" Cheng Cheng cursed, his first instinct being to unbutton the JK uniform—

"The one wearing clothes in front is a heretic!"

"Charge! Charge! Charge!"

"Yay! I snagged the young lady's used jacket!"

"Let me smell it!"

Cheng Cheng froze.

"Holy crap! I'm the only one running ahead, what are you guys yelling about?!"

Is love just a bunch of perverts trying to trick me into stripping naked?!

Chapter 4, Pay attention, this is how the Book of a Hundred Lifetimes is used!

Cheng Cheng was so angry that he cursed loudly and ran even faster.

Finally, the trees ahead parted, and as the light faded, what appeared before us was—

It is a bottomless cliff.

Is there no road ahead?

Behind him, a dozen or so cultists surrounded him. Cicero, holding a black sword, slowly stepped forward, a mocking expression on his face like a cat catching a mouse.

"Run! Why have you stopped running?"

Cheng Cheng took a deep breath and held the spiked club horizontally in front of his chest.

The last stand!

He roared and charged into the crowd. Now, he had far more control over this body than before, and his combat power had increased again. Although his staff technique was chaotic, every move was deadly. Each strike was accompanied by the muffled sound of bones shattering and splattering blood.

Moments later, all the soldiers except Cicero lay dead in pools of blood.

“Not bad.” Cicero nodded approvingly, raising his sword. “You’re a strong man… but unfortunately, not as strong as me!”

"Is that so..." Cheng Cheng pondered for a moment, then asked, "A sage from my hometown once said: 'When the strong are angry, they draw their swords and charge at the stronger; when the weak are angry, they draw their swords at the weaker.' Do you agree with this statement?"

Cicero: "I agree, I approve."

“Then as the stronger one, you cannot swing your sword at me,” Cheng Cheng said seriously. “Moreover, I am the stronger one, and you are the stronger one. If I swing my sword at you, you cannot fight back, otherwise you will become the weak one.”

“That makes sense…” Cicero paused for a moment, then became enraged, “Enough talk, take this!”

Tsk, why doesn't this guy fall for verbal attacks?

Unfortunately, I don't have any skills like using idiot attacks to directly short-circuit the other person's brain with words.

Before I could even finish complaining, the opponent had already unleashed their skill—

"Martial Arts Technique: Judgment of Purification!"

It's that trick again!

But this time, Cheng Cheng saw it clearly!

He saw the incredibly fast sword light trail, and the purple lightning that flashed alongside the sword's edge!

Cheng Cheng suddenly leaned back, the black blade almost grazing his nose, the force of the wind making his cheek sting.

He dodged it!

Cheng Cheng was overjoyed, but before he could get up to retaliate, Cicero flipped his wrist, changing his sword strike from a slash to a thrust, still incredibly fast.

"Pfft!"

The sword tip pierced Cheng Cheng's thigh in an instant, and the excruciating pain made him pause.

Cicero's attacks were like a relentless storm. Wounds continued to accumulate, and strength was rapidly draining away with the blood. Although ninety percent of the pain was blocked, the feeling of power loss could not be eliminated.

As for Sylvia in his mind, she had long since fainted from the pain and hadn't spoken for a long time.

No, this won't do, we'll be worn down sooner or later!

Looking into Cicero's cold eyes, Cheng Cheng made a firm decision.

Damn it, it's just a game anyway, I'll trade damage with you!

Seeing Cicero thrust his sword straight at his heart again, Cheng Cheng did not dodge or evade this time, but instead suddenly turned to the left!

"puff!"

The black sword pierced through his left shoulder in an instant, pinning him to the spot!

A look of surprise flashed across Cicero's eyes; he hadn't expected his opponent to use such a suicidal tactic.

It's now!

"Take this from Old Cheng!"

Cheng Cheng used all his strength to swing the spiked club in his right hand in a full moon shape and smash it down hard on Cicero's head!

This strike embodied all his strength and madness!

Cicero's pupils contracted sharply. He tried to draw his sword and retreat, but the blade was jammed by muscles and bones, making him a fraction of a second too slow! He could only awkwardly tilt his head back!

"boom--!"

The spiked club grazed his cheek and slammed into his shoulder, the crisp sound of bones breaking clearly audible!

"Ugh!"

Cicero let out a muffled groan, staggered back several steps, his left shoulder instantly caved in, his entire arm was useless, and his face was no longer playful, but instead filled with horror and rage.

How could a pampered young lady resort to such a reckless, life-or-death fighting style?!

"you wanna die!"

Cicero was completely enraged. He drew his black sword, spraying blood, and with a backhand slash, unleashed a fierce sword light!

"Shh!"

Cheng Cheng felt a chill on his right arm, and then his right arm, which was holding the spiked club, flew off the cliff at shoulder level.

Holy crap!

Looking at his empty right shoulder, Cheng Cheng was also stunned.

This game even involves losing limbs when you get injured? That's so realistic!

"What, is that all you have to offer? Isn't that enough to satisfy me?"

Cicero's eyes were icy cold, and a trace of blood clung to the corner of his mouth as he relentlessly pushed Cheng Cheng to the edge of the cliff.

What to do? Now that I've lost an arm, I'm even less likely to win!

Looking at Cicero, who was full of fighting spirit in front of him, Cheng Cheng gritted his teeth, then looked at the bottomless cliff behind him, and a thought instantly came to mind.