Am I going to be controlled by the players too?

If you can't beat the boss in a game, and there happens to be a cliff in front of you, what does that mean?

In movies, TV series, online novels, or films, there are always legendary secret manuals, divine weapons, or reclusive masters at the bottom of cliffs. But reality is not a movie; jumping off a cliff is simply a death sentence.

Isn't it a coincidence? This isn't reality either!

Do you think there's no way out?

"Heh... Haven't you heard that there's always a way out? As long as I want to walk, the path is right under my feet!"

Cheng Cheng laughed loudly, and under Cicero's astonished gaze, he did not hesitate to leap backward and jump off the cliff!

Cicero silently walked to the edge of the cliff. An owl flew onto his shoulder, and together they looked down. They saw a shadow plummeting rapidly and disappearing without a trace, leaving only a final message echoing in the valley:

"A cold wind blows in the Valley of Despair, cicadas sing in spring and autumn as the youth returns. At the Mountain of Soul Loss, ahhhhhh, damn it—bang!"

Cheng Cheng's vision went black.

A line of large, golden characters slowly appeared.

"GAMEOVER"

Third possible outcome: suicide.

"You could have easily defeated the boss with your skills, but instead you chose to elbow the rocks on the ground from a hundred-meter cliff. You are a warrior who has inherited the Mamba Mentality."

"Achievement Completed: Life, With a Resounding Strike (Note: This is not a quest)"

"Received: Originium*1"

Cheng Cheng: "...What Originium? Isn't this plagiarism of our 'Primordial Spirit' and 'Tomorrow's Weekly'?"

This game is garbage. All it does is plagiarize. The starting difficulty is ridiculously high, and you can even die if you jump off a cliff. I really don't know how to get through it.

The trip made me forget the meaning of travel and wandering; I even remembered the meaning of washing decks, saving humanity, and saving Azeroth.

With a sigh, Cheng Cheng began to ponder.

What should I do next? The combat power difference is too great. Although the system suggests I can rely on skill and memorizing moves to wear down the boss, that's too troublesome. It's better to just spend money. If I spend enough to get a six-life, five-spirit set, how could I not beat the initial boss?

Rather, it's like saying, "You're already playing a second game and you still don't spend money? You're always thinking about getting 0 kills without taking any damage. Where in the world is there such a good thing?"

Having made up his mind, Cheng Cheng began searching for a way to recharge.

There is no system interface at all.

"System, system, recharge."

There was no response from the voice recorder.

"Recharge portal".

Still no response.

"Shop? In-app purchases? Monthly card? Double bonus for first recharge?"

The system interface remained motionless, with only the pitiful "Originium*1" shining alone in the backpack.

Cheng Cheng: "..."

No, how come your recharge portal is hidden even more secretly than in "Yuan Shen"?

So you're even less interested in making money than "Yuanshen"?

Can't you only recharge after passing the first level? Can't we skip the storyline? I'd skip it even if it meant skipping my entire life!

"Forget it, let's roll back."

As long as he can revert to a previous state, he's not afraid of any game difficulty. Even if the path to victory is a narrow, winding trail through a vast mountain, Cheng Cheng is confident he can find it!

…………

The prison cart rocked back and forth, and Cheng Cheng opened his eyes.

It starts all over again, and there it is again, this flickering firelight.

"No—! Aaaaaaaah, damn it, aaaaaaah!"

The grammar teacher's scream rang out precisely on time. Cheng Cheng sat up expressionlessly and fell into deep thought.

"Um, that..." Sylvia's timid voice echoed in his mind, "Excuse me, who are you?"

Cheng Cheng: "..."

Does this mean that after a rollback, we have to go through all the previous dialogues again? That's so troublesome.

“I am Hakimi Mambo, a god-like figure,” Cheng Cheng said coldly. “Shut up and don’t say anything, it’s about to begin.”

"Huh? Start what?"

"It's nothing, just a game."

Without giving the girl time to think, Cheng Cheng cleaved open the wooden door with his sword and charged towards the cultists...

The next moment, several cultists were cut in two, their screams echoing as blood and flesh flew everywhere, staining the ground of the deserted village red.

"GAME OVER"

In this rewind, his swordsmanship became even more exquisite, but he was tricked by a feint from Cicero and died on the spot after taking a fast and slow slash.

"GAME OVER"

On his sixth attempt, he finally figured out Cicero's moves, but at the last moment, he was killed because he was greedy for the right move.

"GAME OVER"

The seventh time, the eighth time, the ninth time...

With each death, Cheng Cheng would replay the events in the dark void, analyzing Cicero's every move, every breath, and every glance.

Gradually, he began to be able to anticipate the opponent's attacks.

Gradually, his movements became more concise and elegant.

Gradually, under his control, Sylvia's body transformed from a delicate young lady into a pure...

Killing machine.

…………

The twenty-second time.

The prison cart rocked back and forth, and Cheng Cheng opened his eyes.

"No—! Aaaaaaaah, damn it, aaaaaaah!"

The familiar screams.

Cheng Cheng stood up, stretched his wrists, and pulled out the last weapon, the "training sword," from his backpack.

Beside the altar, the leader of the cult turned around and glanced at the prison cart.

"This girl—"

Before he could finish speaking, the prison van door was kicked open with a loud bang.

The white-haired girl, carrying a long sword, walked out slowly, her pale red eyes gleaming coldly in the firelight.

"Skip it, I'm tired of the lines." Cheng Cheng twirled his sword. "Let's get straight to the fight."

Cicero frowned and waved for his men to come forward.

A dozen or so cultists charged forward with howls, thrusting their swords, spears, and halberds at the girl.

Then--

They witnessed a massacre.

No, it was less of a massacre and more of a performance.

The white-haired girl's figure moved through the rain like a ghost, like a white grim reaper dancing under the moon. Her agile figure leaped among the cultists, each swing of her sword deftly taking a life, each dodge perfectly avoiding the attacks.

No superfluous movements, no wasted energy, precise and elegant, like the purest, most lethal...

Death Waltz.

"boom!"

The last henchman collapsed, clutching his throat.

Cheng Cheng flicked the remaining blood off his sword and looked at Cicero:

"It's your turn."

The playfulness on Cicero's face vanished, replaced by a solemn expression that was a mixture of horror and rage.

"What exactly are you?" He slowly drew his black sword, the blade pointing directly at Cheng Cheng. "The Claire family couldn't have raised a monster like you... But it's fine, killing you and offering your bizarre killing skills to the Demon God will be a great achievement!"

Cheng Cheng remained silent, only brandishing his sword in response!

"Martial Arts Technique: Judgment of Purification!"

The pitch-black sword light tore through the rain curtain, so fast that its trajectory was almost invisible!

But Cheng Cheng didn't need to look. He closed his eyes, turned to the side, and the sword's edge grazed his cheek.

Cicero flicked his wrist, changing the sword's stance from a slash to a thrust—

Cheng Cheng swung his sword backhand, striking the side of the blade precisely and deflecting the sword's momentum!

"what?!"

Cicero's pupils contracted sharply.

Cheng Cheng gave him no time to react, ducked down, slid past him, and swung his sword at his neck!

"call--"

Cicero barely managed to dodge by turning his head, but the sharp blade sliced ​​off one of his ears, along with a large chunk of bloody scalp covered in hair.

"Ugh, you're so mean! You—"

Cheng Cheng didn't waste any words. His sword light turned into afterimages, each strike aimed at Cicero's defensive weaknesses. Each attack forced Cicero to retreat, revealing more and more openings in his defenses...

Finally, as the eighteenth sword fell—

"Crack!"

Cicero's last wrist snapped off, and the black sword clattered to the ground.