Abnormal creatures' communication group

Otherwise, the other party will definitely not be so easy to talk to, and it would be unfair to take such an easy advantage if you don't take this opportunity to scold the other party.

However, he saw everything that the hopeless king did and the changes he made, and it seemed that he was not so hopeless after all.

"I think I've worked hard enough to save this, uh, miserable world. Don't let anyone step on me again, right?"

The cell man chewed the chicken leg bones until they crunched, and he also ate up all the soft bone marrow without spitting out even a residue.

"Didn't you tell me to scold you?" The collector couldn't help it. He put down the work at hand and looked at the man speechlessly.

The cell man licked his fingers casually. He had wanted to do this for a long time when he was in power. The feeling of every move being regulated by so-called etiquette made him inexplicably covered with goose bumps.

Back then, there were so many things, so how could life not be as free as in the army? Back then, even if I wanted to smell a little blood, I had to find an excuse to go hunting. He slowly licked the oil stains on his fingers, then replied calmly. "I'm just being polite, don't take it seriously."

"...You deserve to be kicked out." The collector was completely speechless. He turned his head away and didn't bother to watch the other party do his own thing.

When the cell man saw that the other party ignored him, he felt bored, put the cells into the jar, and turned away.

It is not so safe once you go out. The monsters wandering around do not pose any threat to it, but if you are too arrogant to ignore them, there is a tower nearby, and the thick smell of blood mixed with the stench of corpses will rush into your nostrils crazily.

If the cell people walked indifferently on the muddy ground mixed with blood and corpses, and if they felt sad about such common things, they would have been overwhelmed by pain and despair long ago.

He kicked open the tower door and only had time to say hello.

"—Guys, did you miss me? Your king is back."

The overwhelming monsters did not understand what he said and just rushed towards him. They were crowded together in the narrow tower.

"This is truly a sad thing. Repeating something without any memories can easily make people tired." He babbled on and on, holding a long-handled sickle in his hand. With a swing, flesh was torn and bones were broken. Their heads flew off their shoulders, their bodies still swaying and standing upright, and then they were swept to the ground by the crowded companions.

He jumped up the wall and grabbed the ladder. Seeing that the monsters missed, he jumped down heavily and stepped on the head of a monster. He heard a crisp sound of bone breaking. Before the monster fell, he jumped down again swiftly and landed on an open space not far away.

He was half-crouching on the ground, carrying a blood-stained sickle on his back.

"What a shame! If it were in the past, you would have been much more interesting. You might have pointed at me angrily and cursed, then raised your hands and threw everything you could at me, or you might have huddled timidly behind the crowd, waiting to watch my show, instead of being nowhere like now."

Before he finished his sentence, he had already drawn the weapon from behind, dragged it on the ground, leaving a white mark, and then swung it heavily, watching those poor guys fall down.

"Honestly, if I'd been a little bit further along, you would have given me a warm welcome with flowers, right? But I don't like warm welcomes, and the quality of the food you serve is also inconsistent. Last time, I believed your tricks and ate a piece, but even with my physique, I still had diarrhea and collapsed. It was late at night, and I was still squatting in the toilet. My stupid guard captain thought someone had poisoned my food, and he was so nervous that he dragged the confused soldiers around on patrol."

When he slung the sickle over his shoulder again, there was no monster standing in front of him. Broken flesh, broken limbs, and some guys' shriveled brain stems slid out from their severed heads. They were dead, deader than dead, and could only lie powerlessly on the ground.

"Guess what?" he continued, unable to stop. "Finally, my loyal captain of the guards came up to me, looking nervous, then knelt on one knee, rambling on about his mistakes. Finally, he kowtowed several times, repeating over and over how sorry he was for not catching the assassin. It was a truly awful scene."

When he said this, he suddenly raised his head and laughed out loud. However, if you looked closely, you would find tears in the corners of his eyes. The crystal tears even wet the soft cloth under his armor. Unfortunately, there were only corpses and brainless monsters on the ground, and no one was destined to see this scene.

"So I told him at that time that there was no assassin, but that he had simply accepted some kindness that he couldn't afford. Just like now, was it the plague that destroyed the country, or that arrogant person?"

As for whether these two things are related, it may not be important. At least in the eyes of cell people, there is some connection.

325 Supervisor's Notes

【Weapon Master】A Great Cell: !! Why is the Collector so hard to deal with?

[Iron Man] Ordinary Rich People: Hey, what happened to you? Tell us and cheer us up.

【Traveler】Have you seen my sister? : Do you need help?

[Chess Player] The unknown person nailed in the coffin: Is there anything we can do to help?

[God of the Void] Ghost: Chop him when he jumps down, use the little bugs he releases to accumulate spells, and then hit him with spells.

【Iron Man】Ordinary rich people: ????

【Traveler】Have you seen my sister? :???

[Chess Player] The nameless person nailed in the coffin: Is the ghost also facing the same trouble?

[God of the Void] Ghost: The trouble has been solved, I am providing possible solutions.

[Chess Player] The Nameless Person Nailed in the Coffin: Ghost, that's the world of the Cell People over there. You know, it's different from your own world. It's probably just the names that overlap. So you two might be facing different problems, and your methods might not work on his side. How about this, why don't we listen to what he has to say first? If my problems are similar to yours, it's not too late to use your methods. If you can't solve them yourself, you can always ask us for help, right?

[Weapon Master] A Great Cell: Huh? I don't have anything to do here. I just came here to complain and rant. After I'm done, I'll leave. You guys can just pretend nothing happened, or that you didn't see it. If you really feel like you can't pretend you didn't see it, you can poke your own eyes out.

【Iron Man】Ordinary rich people: Climb, climb quickly.

[Abnormality Shelter] Today's abnormality is out of control again: Is this how you usually communicate?

[Iron Man] Ordinary rich man: No, this idiot is an exception, ignore him.

[Judge] A lonely skeleton: ...I shouldn't have opened this chat group today. Fortunately, I don't have any eyes to poke out. After all, I'm just a skeleton.

[Iron Man] Ordinary rich man: But you can’t pretend you didn’t see it, right? We have to be blind together.

[Chess Player] The nameless person nailed in the coffin: Come on, Stark. Stop fanning the flames. You know that guy's character. Even if you're pissed off, you should be used to it. Cool down. It's not worth it.

[Traveler] Have you seen my sister? : Newbie, don't mind me. Although we sometimes have heated arguments and curse at each other, we're all very friendly and treat each other as friends.

[Abnormality Shelter] Today's abnormality is out of control again: It's okay, I know.

After the supervisor replied to the last sentence, he took out a pen and continued to take notes.

A great cell. His real name is suspected to be Cell Man, though it's a possible codename. Based on his title, we can infer he's definitely skilled in weaponry. It's unclear what specific weapons he encompasses, whether they include ancient cold weapons or even modern hot weapons. This is something worth considering. He has a short temper and is self-centered, so he's not very popular in the group.

An ordinary wealthy man. His real name is Tony Stark. His otherworldly existence boasts advanced technology, even reaching the realm of interstellar travel. He's also a self-centered individual with a sharp tongue, but a good person. He's very kind to another member of his group, Ghost. He possesses many resources and can borrow from them when necessary, never refusing them as long as they can afford to do so.

An unknown person nailed to a coffin. His real name is suspected to be "Doctor," though it's possible it's just a codename. He's a very easygoing person and currently has the highest emotional intelligence in the group, having frequently tried to smooth things over. The group respects him greatly, and he's also very kind to another member of the group, named Ghost. He seems quite adept at strategic planning, and perhaps his advice could be used as a reference when directing staff on Abnormality management.

Have you seen my sister? Her real name is Sora. She's a relatively naive and simple person, easily tricked by others and kindhearted. She's suspected to be the most peaceful person in the group. She's suspected to have a friend named Wilson, though it's unclear which member of the group he's friends with. She also has a special liking for another member of the group named Ghost.

Ghost. His real name is suspected to be Ghost, though it's not ruled out as a code name. He has a simple personality but isn't naive. He misjudges many common sense issues. He's suspected to be the strongest in the group, and indeed has a rather cute appearance.

The following records were all what he observed last time. After the last neat period in the sky, he slowly closed the notebook and placed it in his hollowed-out vernacular novel. He always had a premonition that he had to guard against something. This premonition was unreasonable, but he believed in his intuition.

The cell man looked at the reaction on the screen with boredom and calmly closed his chat group. He thought that the guy over there was going to be so angry that he would come over and chop him. Oh, even if he didn't agree, the other party couldn't come over.

At this moment, he was hanging on the flagpole on a tall tower, swaying in the wind. Perhaps feeling a little dizzy, he subconsciously shook his head, and then his whole body began to shake violently. The rope rubbed against the flagpole, making a creaking sound that sounded particularly harsh.

He immediately dared not move and was blown by the wind obediently. He even dared to blow away the leaves that were blown on his face with caution, for fear that he would fall down accidentally. You know, this is his own body. If he fell from such a high distance, who knows what would happen to it. He would have to be mute for a long time. By then, the collector who was mending his body would probably be furious and would want to point at his head and ask him loudly why he got into this state again?

Perhaps he really felt a little bored, so he kicked the wall lightly, twisted the rope, and shouted loudly to the only person in the tower.

"Do you—want—to—understand—?"

The sound seemed to be blown away by the strong wind, but the person sitting in the tower with his eyes closed still heard it and replied indifferently.

"Don't expect me to believe you so easily, and don't expect me to have any sympathy for you. Unless you are determined enough to prove it to me, you can just keep hanging there, or try to kill me when the next time comes. Other than that, don't try to shake me with any words, let alone try to convince me."

The cell man here wanted to say a few more words, but the rope seemed to have been twisted to its limit, so he spun rapidly in the air. The speed was not very fast, but it was enough to dazzle people.

Fortunately, to him, this was just a drizzle. When he found an opportunity, he kicked the wall and turned around, and he was able to talk with a smile on his face again.

"Don't be so heartless. After all, you used to be one of my supporters. I gave you a lot of tolerance and rights, didn't I? I allowed you to successfully build a clock tower out of thin air here and fulfill your dream."

The other man paused, wiping his sword, as if completely enraged, unable to maintain his usual calm tone. "Don't bring it up, you damned wretch! Things shouldn't have been this bad. Everything should have been just as beautiful as it was. You, with your selfish desires, destroyed this island, ruined everything. What right do you have to beg for forgiveness? If you truly wanted forgiveness, why didn't you consider going to Hell and personally asking those people if they're willing to forgive you? Or did you know you were destined to get a negative answer, so you dragged yourself along, dragging a long-dead corpse along, living in shameless despair?"

The cell man really didn't say anything this time. It wasn't because he was offended by the other party's remarks. Why would he care about such irrelevant words? It was just that the rope was twisted to the limit and broke naturally. He was now hooking the flagpole with his feet, trying to survive, but the flagpole also made an unusual sound, and there was only a little time left before it broke.

With a dull sound of breaking, he let out a scream and fell down magnificently. Just when he was about to hit the ground, someone grabbed his armor and lifted him up to a position only a few dozen centimeters above the ground. He looked up and saw the guy wearing a mask but still unable to control his anger.

Just as he was about to laugh, he was ruthlessly thrown to the ground face down with a loud thud.

326 Little Collector

"Failed again." When the collector heard the sound of someone pushing the door, he calmly repeated what he believed to be the facts in a matter-of-fact tone.

"No." The cell man wiped the blood and dirt off his face without any annoyance, took out a glass bottle of orange liquid from his waist and drank it all, then skillfully took a glass of freshly squeezed cell juice.

The bloody wounds on his body healed in the blink of an eye. The cell man sighed in satisfaction and subconsciously stretched his muscles. "Comfortable."

"Success...?" After hearing the person's answer, the collector immediately put down the equipment he was fiddling with and raised his head, which had been lowered, to look at the person.

This matter does not allow him to be negligent. Even though his goals and ideas have been distorted step by step in the absurd and never-ending cycle of time, he still has not forgotten his original intention. He wants to see this kingdom return to its original appearance, and he wants to save this terrible world.

The cell man calmly squatted on the ground, stretching his legs. He jumped a few times and then said nonchalantly, "It's half and half, not a success, but at least it's not a failure."

Favorites, who was excited just now, calmed down in an instant as if a bucket of cold water was poured on him after hearing the other party's words. He lowered his head expressionlessly, treated those sturdy glass bottle caps extremely roughly, and vented his inner irritation on the poor and innocent experimental equipment.

"If you mean you won't be beaten out by that Time Guardian, even if that's halfway successful, then I wholeheartedly recommend you pretend to die 18 different ways in front of her. Maybe one of them will touch her heart."

"So are your experimental materials ready?" The cell man asked an irrelevant question.

"Why are you asking that?" The collector was a little surprised, but before he could ask more questions, he was blocked by the other party.

"After all, I promised the other party to let the other party see the feasibility of our method. Otherwise, how could the other party agree to join us?" When the cell man said this, he always felt that he was really kind now. Facing the ridicule of his subordinates, he could still explain patiently instead of asking the other party to shut up and do as he was told.

"What?" The collector instinctively stood up from his seat, almost knocking over a few bottles and jars. Fortunately, he quickly saved them. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"Joke? I never joke." The Cell Man frowned. "At least I don't make jokes like this. They're not interesting."

"I'll prepare it right away." He suddenly became excited, rummaging through boxes and drawers to find his things, muttering something as he searched.

At the same time, the cell man also noticed a little guy who was peeking over here from a room. His outfit looked particularly familiar, as if he was carved from the same mold as Favorites.

The cell man, who was just wondering whether to go out and harm a few unlucky zombies in order to pass the long and boring waiting time, immediately became interested. He walked over quickly with a piece of red cloth in his hand, ready to tie it into a bow at any time.

The little guy who looked like the collector was probably frightened. He slammed the door shut and disappeared from people's sight.

But who was the Cell Man? He was used to being lawless. When there was order in the past, he was the most powerful one. Not to mention now that there was no order, burning, killing, and looting were just as easy as pie.

He grabbed the sickle on his back with his backhand, held it with both hands and swung it hard to break open the door. The moment he broke open the door, he heard a tiny scream.

It was probably from the little guy. He found the voice even more amusing and didn't feel any sympathy at all. It was just a game anyway and it wouldn't really hurt the other person.

He stepped on the ruins of the door, waited for the smoke to clear, and then looked inside.

It was pitch black inside, with no light except for the faint glow coming from the newly broken door, but she had heard some small noises, and that was enough for her.

In this dimly lit room, which was not very spacious and where he couldn't see the way, he took two leisurely steps towards the place where the sound came from before. Then he heard the little guy's heartbeat getting faster and faster, and the slight sound of it hitting the wall when it trembled.

The closer he got, the more the little guy trembled. He found it very interesting. After all, there were only monsters on this island, or some guys who were not afraid of death. This was the first time he had seen someone so scared that he would hide from him in such a long time.

"I got you." He deliberately lowered his already deep voice, and each word jumped out of his mouth. The sound was like the precursor of a devil's attack. Each syllable accurately hit the other's trembling heart, making the fear even worse. The suffocating feeling of oppression made the little guy about to faint.

Perhaps he noticed that something was wrong with the little guy, so the cell man stood still and did not take any further action. This was not out of kindness. After all, how could a prey that had fainted be alive and kicking be fun?

"Stop, what are you doing?" Fortunately, the collector's ears were not decorations, and such a violent movement naturally attracted his attention. He put down the things in his hands and rushed over in two steps. The face hidden under the hood was almost full of "fuck you" and the curses that he forced himself to hold back.

"I was just playing with the kids." The cell man casually dropped the sickle on the ground with a loud noise, then spread his hands, showing no remorse. "Don't worry, I know my limits."

"...If you have any sense, there will be something fishy going on. Get out of the way. You're scaring him."

The Collector couldn't help but clench his fists and suppress his anger.

It's hard, the fist is hard.

"Okay, okay, I get it, but you're being really mean, aren't you? You didn't even tell me there was such an interesting little guy."

The Cell Man, still sporting that playful smile, simply picked up his weapon and hung it back up, then crossed his arms and rested them behind his head. "And I really know my limits. Isn't he still alive and kicking?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the collector picked up the little guy who had experienced so much ups and downs and was completely unconscious, and went to the bright place. He turned around and glanced at everyone, and snorted coldly.

"...Well, this one is, at least he's still alive, right?" The cellman, caught red-handed, subconsciously began to avert his gaze. "So, did you find the information? I don't want to wait too long. You know, if it takes too long, I'll just want to have some fun. After all, crawling around in the sewers is much more interesting than waiting here in boredom."

"You've said this countless times. If you think crawling through the sewers is really that fun, you can go ahead and do it right now. I'll go negotiate with the other party on my own."

The Collector opened the door to the opposite room, placed the little one on the bed, and tucked him in. He then locked the door and confronted the other man. "I'd be truly grateful if you could stop causing me so much trouble... I don't quite understand how you ended up like this."

"Okay, I know you're going to bring up the fact that I was an asshole, but can we just let it go? It's in the past."

"No, that's not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is how you went from being a conscienceless but at least smart bastard to a conscienceless and brainless bastard. Look at the stupid things you did. And that guy is not a kid. He is my assistant and will be my successor in the future."

The collector tried his best to keep his composure, so as not to be tempted to take action when he saw the other person's face. He could do it before, but not now.

"So you exploit child labor?" Cell continued to stare at him in disbelief, subconsciously asking. "Okay, I understand. Now that the law is broken, you can do illegal things with impunity, right?"

"..."

It's hard, my fist is hard, so hard that I wish I could punch his head through. Why on earth did I resurrect this idiot?

327 Persuasion, the Past of the Time Keeper

Favorites had always known that killing was extremely cruel. He had also recovered broken limbs on the battlefield, and based on the burning, broken, bloody corpses, he vaguely judged the degree of cruelty at that time, but he had never seen with his own eyes how the cell people killed people, never.

Now he saw it. The word "tyrant" was completely inadequate to describe the cruelty of this killing. The long-handled sickle that required heavy hands to hold was so light in the other party's hands that it seemed to weigh nothing.

The monsters were cut into broken pieces, and blood was smeared on each other's bodies layer by layer. The thick plasma made the sickles unrecognizable.

No wonder the water outside every laboratory is dirty and bright red, with some broken pieces of flesh floating on it. He thought those things were contaminated by corpses. Now he thinks that they were probably used by the cell people to wash the weapons and blood on their bodies.