Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Yes, that's the job of a sheriff, the maintainer of social order."

"Is this your first step in secretly ruling humanity?"

“I don’t have that idea, and don’t treat me as a separate category from humans. I am also a human being.”

“I understand. I will assist you in your human disguise, but your inner self is different now. Please don’t forget that.”

You can't argue with that, after all, a normal person's inner self isn't like a soft-boiled egg.

The body has completely entered a state of fasting and will not feel hungry. Except for the head, which is completely calcified and turned into a thin and brittle "eggshell", the limbs do not have any discomfort.

Their tolerance to temperature has decreased, allowing them to perceive hot and cold more clearly, and they have developed different senses of time based on hot and cold.

When the temperature is high, the speed of movement and thinking increases, and time seems to slow down. The opposite is true when it's cold.

In the afternoon, the temperature began to drop, and Lyle planned to go to Andrei, as there was no firewood at home to keep the house warm.

Lyle pointed his finger at the emblem, then fell to the ground.

Night had fallen, and his time had been extended to almost a standstill.

……

The first sensation he regained was a cool touch against Lyle's face, followed by warmth, and then the stinging pain of sunlight shining directly into his slightly open eyes.

When I woke up, it was already the next day.

I slept on the floor all night. Fortunately, it was summer and I was healthy enough that apart from stiff and sore joints and a slight stiff neck, I had no other problems.

Hmm? Neck?

After the head turned into an egg, I could hardly feel that part anymore. When I pressed my palm against the back of my neck, it disappeared; the egg head disappeared.

He reached out and stroked his face, feeling the familiar rough skin, the thin cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and the delicate eyebrows. The texture was familiar and clear, as if that egg-shaped head was just an absurd dream. Lyle felt a sense of disorientation, forgetting what day of the week it was.

Was it a nightmare?

Lyle lowered his hand and almost slipped on something smooth.

Upon closer inspection, it was a perfectly round sphere, about the size of a soccer ball, milky white, with a rubbery surface that was slightly elastic when pressed. It was smooth and seemed to be covered with a layer of mucus.

"what is this?"

"Your fruit." The grape stayed beside Lyle, curiously looking at the sphere. Lyle had been unconscious last night, and the grape had been watching over him.

"My fruit? What do you mean?"

"Indeed, reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles. I have not studied your species in depth, and I have always classified you as primates according to my own habits. But I am afraid I need to revise my understanding again and again. I am now struggling with whether to kick your species out of the animal kingdom."

"To put it simply, last night, your flower blossomed and bore fruit, which is the one in your hand."

Lyle was so startled that he threw the ball away, but caught it before it hit the ground, out of an instinct not to hurt it.

"Tell me more about the grapes." Lyle held the fruit in his arms, making sure there wouldn't be any accidents.

"When the white moon appears, the lump on your face will burst open, and black, plant-like roots will grow out. Thirty centimeters above the ground, a flower bud will emerge. When the red moon appears, the flower bud will bloom. When the red moon ends, the fruit will grow, and the rest of the tissue will wither and turn to sand. Your asexual reproduction will be complete."

"..."

Did they give birth to a Nezha?

Looking at the ball in my arms, it didn't look like a living thing at all. Could it be, as the miracle had said, a split offspring?

I couldn't feel a heartbeat. I shook it up and down, and the inside wasn't fluid; it was solid.

Oops! It's stuck to my hand. Even when I stop holding it and swing my arm in the air, it stays firmly against my palm.

Is it the effect of mucus? It looks like runny egg white, so it shouldn't have such strong adhesion.

In any case, sticking to each other like this isn't a good idea.

The moment that thought crossed his mind, the ball fell, hit the floor, bounced, and returned to Lyle's palm.

After sorting out my thoughts, it seems that I'm using it incorrectly.

The egg of delusion. In other words, is it a test of mind control?

My mind went blank, my eyes were fixed on the ball, and I thought of fixed words.

It stuck together again, not with mucus, but more like some kind of biomagnetic force.

The initial test was a pleasant surprise for Lyle, and he began to have a slightly different opinion of this "cheat code" talent.

The texture is just right; it would be even better if there wasn't any slime.

The surface mucus appears to have evaporated, but it has actually been absorbed by the sphere.

You could add a touch of mineral texture, preferably something transparent.

The sphere became transparent, and the rubbery texture turned into a glassy one, allowing Lyle to see the wooden planks beneath his feet.

It looks a bit like a snowflake when you look at it like this.

Snowflakes began to fall gently inside the sphere, and the music from the music box echoed in Lyle's ears. At the center of the sphere was a tiny figure holding the ball—it was himself. He was also gazing at his own sphere, and at the tiny figure holding the ball inside...

Lyle shook his head, clearing his mind, and the infinite nesting dolls inside the ball disappeared.

"How about some gold coins?"

Several oliu lay inside the egg, but no matter how much he shook it, it wouldn't fall out.

It's just a decoration.

This ball doesn't seem to have any practical value anymore.

Perhaps she wanted to refute his words.

The surface of the egg once again oozed a clear, sticky fluid.

When an unknown liquid appears before you, and you don't know what it is, a cautious person won't touch it. A reckless person, judging it to be appealing, will only have one option in mind.

Take a lick.

It has no taste, and its texture is similar to a mixture of water and tasteless jelly. After eating it, you will not feel anything in your body.

I thought it would taste good.

The mucus turned golden yellow and had a sweet taste.

Scrape off a small amount with your finger and lick it off.

It's meat! It smells like meat!

Without hesitation, I boiled a pot of water, and after instinctively confirming that it would not harm the eggs, I put the water into the pot, added seasonal vegetables and seasonings, and simmered it for an hour to make the broth.

As Lyle stirred the soup with his spoon, he pondered, "My talent is to pave the way for me to become a culinary god, the king of soups with mysterious mucus."

out of the pot.

A large, plump egg was scooped out, its surface glistening with moisture. The original vegetables and seasonings were nowhere to be seen, and the water had been reduced by more than half.

been eaten?

Holding the basketball-sized egg in my hand, the temperature was slightly higher than before, but still below human body temperature.

Is this thing a slime?

Chapter 53 Ace Air Combat

A gemstone resembling onyx lay horizontally on the table, its shiny surface sprinkled with cheap, shredded vegetable leaves that had oxidized and turned yellow. This was not some wildly imaginative performance art.

The fibers dissolved, disappearing without a trace, like fish that have sunk to the bottom of the sea.

Lyle tapped its surface, and it softened the moment his knuckles touched it, making a soft, squelching sound.

It was indeed "eaten up".

It's unclear whether it was digested or transported to an invisible location, which makes it difficult to classify as a living organism or some kind of device.

It is currently known that it can change its material composition or disguise itself at will, can "devour" organic matter, and tentatively considers itself "safe." It secretes mucus.

Its characteristics do match the description of the Delusional Egg by Mr. Miracle, but apart from that, it has nothing particularly outstanding.

As he stroked the surface, the smooth texture traveled through the leather to his skin. Although Lyle had come into direct contact with the egg when he first woke up without any adverse effects, he still maintained the most important characteristic of a qualified transmigrator.

Gou.

As long as I run fast enough and perform acrobatics along the way, death can't catch me.

It had returned to its original palm size, perhaps because it had been digested, or perhaps because it had shrunk. Lyle held it in his hand and began tonight's teleportation.

The grapes didn't follow.

After Lyle devoured his dinner, Grape bid farewell and left to begin his great adventure.

Lyle had no objection; Grape was a good girl, and she knew her place, especially after she had looked after him for two nights.

...Tonight, Ariana is an elegant dark purple.

Her long dress was a daring petal-shaped gown, like an inverted orchid, with a black pearl strung at the waist. The smooth fabric extended upwards, wrapping around her chest, and was as revealing as a Western evening gown, very beautiful, if Ariana hadn't covered all her exposed skin with a scarf.

Like a doll, they sit on the chair with their heads tilted to the side, quietly forming a picture.

A white cane lay across her lap.

"You've arrived."

"I am coming."

Ariana reached out and raised the staff, the dragon carving on the head of the staff shimmering in the lamplight.

"Does it look like a dragon?"

Lyle examined it closely and found it to be exactly the same as the dragon in his memory. In fact, the details of the dragon scales and head were even more exquisite than he had imagined. The slender body was coiled on the top of the staff, lifelike, as if it were about to take flight at any moment.

However, the old habit of emphasizing spirit over form has led to the creation of a masterpiece in terms of shape carving. But the spirit it expresses lacks the majesty and grandeur of a dragon. Instead, it has a feminine beauty that makes it immediately clear that it is a female dragon.

But it's beautiful enough already.

“Yes.” Lyle reached out his hand, mentally preparing some words of gratitude.

Ariana withdrew her hand and held the cane in her arms as if it were a precious treasure.

"I'm a little reluctant to give it to you." She rubbed her fingers against the staff, then reluctantly pressed it against the veil.