Abnormal creatures' communication group

“What a wonderful city.”

The cell man opened his arms, with a sharp crown that almost covered his eyes. His expression was unrecognizable, as if he was welcoming something, or cheering.

But the Blaze Man and the Wither Skeleton just wanted to shudder. After the contact during this period of time, they bet that this madman must be playing a game or was angry again.

Especially the Blaze Man, he sensed anger from the other party's subtle words.

The cell people were indeed angry that such a shabby, unruly place with messy streets and no managers stood here quietly and peacefully.

Why!

He recalled the conversation between him and those two idiots.

"Are you saying that some pig-headed people ruled this place, relying on outdated weapons and haphazard fighting to become the uncrowned champion here?"

"How interesting! They sound like they haven't gotten over their primal desire for gold. They don't even have the ability to mint currency. How on earth do they hold themselves together? Is it because of some illusory unity?"

"This is really interesting. I can't wait to meet their so-called leader. Maybe I can even crown him. It would be an honor for him."

"No." He heard the fiery man refute his words firmly, without a trace of respect. "They have no king."

"Do you mean they haven't formed a unified regime yet?"

The Cell Man vaguely guessed the answer, but he still pretended to be exaggerated and raised his hands to cover his eyes, hiding the scarlet and violent look. "Oh my God, how did you lose to them? Let me guess, was it because of stupidity?"

"? Of course they have a unified standard of right, a unified culture, and unified laws, but they just don't have a unified manager."

This sentence accurately hit the wound that the cell man had been trying desperately to cover up, the wound that had already festered and rotted.

Now that it had been cut open and bloodied, those ugly, battered wounds were exposed nakedly in the sunlight, and he was forced to see them.

He has to face his shameful past and cannot deny it.

Experience can shape a person, but at the same time, what a person encounters is also partly due to himself, so what kind of person he is will also determine what kind of experience he encounters.

The cell man is no longer a hot-headed kid, nor is he the commander who was once a powerful figure on the battlefield and only needed to consider victory and survival. He is a king who decides the life and death of all those who follow him.

The Cell Man soon figured out the little tricks used in the chat group. He realized that the other party was trying other small means to change his character, but he had to admit that the other party succeeded. If it were the old him, he would probably choose to directly kill all the living things on the island, arrogantly raising a middle finger with a smug smile in his eyes.

But he didn't, not only because the only meaning of doing so would be to sink with this broken world, never seeing more wonderful things, never reaching higher heights, and never being able to overturn the gods from their high thrones.

But he thought about it for a long time, and he still couldn't figure out whether he should continue.

Especially when faced with the devastation, the kindness he encountered and his dictatorship began to conflict violently.

His intuition told him that if he followed the other party's instructions, he would be able to own a rich kingdom and return to his throne. He could even see the wider world and conquer it.

But! He! When! Did! He! Follow! Anyone!'s! Instructions?

Even if it is not mandatory.

Every time he looked at the mission, he seemed to be back in the past, when he had to try his best to complete everything in order to get a little bit of food. He watched with hunger and cold as the other party threw his only food on the ground, but he never picked it up because his hands and feet had almost no feeling. He tried for a long time before he could barely bend down to reach the food.

Some of the animals around them were already lying on the ground impatiently, gnawing at the food like dogs, and then carefully scraping the ground clean with their tongues.

By the time he finally finished eating, the area where food was distributed was almost empty.

So he tried to deceive himself, he tried to strip away the most violent part of himself, clumsily trying to disguise himself as what the system expected him to be.

Because if he were not such a bad person, and did not have such a strong desire for control, he would be able to accept those tasks with peace of mind, accept the help of the system with peace of mind, and watch the kingdom being rebuilt with peace of mind.

Maybe I wasn't that bad in the past.

He tried to convince himself.

Hadn't he been a wise king for a while? He became an idol admired by everyone, with statues erected for him. He also felt angry at injustice and sad at tragedy.

It was he who completely overthrew the rule of those guys and brought hope to the island. If it weren't for him, the island might still be living in even more terrible dire straits.

This slow, blunt-knife-like cutting of flesh was more terrifying than death, otherwise so many people wouldn't have responded to his call.

Perhaps, perhaps he just took a slightly wrong path back then, and those mistakes and some conspiracies were entangled together and eventually led to that result. This was not entirely under his control. As long as he forgot those things, resurrected those he had killed, and restored those he had harmed to their original state, he could continue to be the supreme king in his kingdom, a wise king.

What a great plot.

The cell people could hardly help but applaud themselves.

Then this illusion of comfort was cruelly shattered by the other party.

The king was not a necessity, but just a symbolic figure that was needed under the circumstances at the time. He led the uprising, but he did not pull everyone out of the quagmire. If he were alone, it would be impossible for him to do such a thing with his strength at the time.

But he was able to kick everyone back with the most selfish reasons, and did not give them any room for hope.

Look, this country has no king, no ruler, and they live so happily. They are equal, proud, and strong. They do not need to be responsible to a so-called king. They only need to be responsible to themselves and their compatriots, that's all.

If that brand new country is really established, and he finds that it can live better without him, what should he do? Should he flee from his own country in disgrace?

"It's really curious. It seems that this journey is starting to become interesting." The cell man walked over there arrogantly, but his mind was still on what he was thinking just now.

No! He would never run away from his kingdom in disgrace. That kingdom could only be his. If it was not his, then he would destroy it, even if he never had the chance to rebuild it again.

444 Another Competition (This title is so scary)

The ghost saw the gray mist again, thick and undispellable, wrapping him completely.

The ghost should have pretended not to see it, because the other party did not reach out to it, nor did he tell it that he needed help. Then, according to the ghost's character, it would not interfere in other people's affairs. No matter what consequences this matter led to, it had nothing to do with it, and the person in charge would bear the responsibility.

"No."

But the ghost spoke, and it was not the two thin and weightless words on the sign. Instead, it was a crisp, childish voice whose gender could not be determined, mixed with some vague and unclear sounds, as if there were low whispers entangled in it.

Empty and heavy.

It thought of Quino again, that was the journey it was most unwilling to take.

At first, it couldn't understand, because it had witnessed too many sacrifices, and those sacrifices only left some faint marks, which it gladly accepted. If it had the chance, it might change those destinies, just like the chat group gave it the right to choose, but if there was no chance, it probably wouldn't be too sad.

It thought about it for a long time and vaguely figured it out.

The victims either completed their mission like the female warrior and died in battle without regrets, or died on the road to fulfilling their ideals because of their own shortcomings like the guy holding the round shield, or sacrificed heroically for their ideals.

Only Quino did not die before completing his mission, nor did he die during his mission. The mission did not require him to sacrifice himself, but he simply gave up his life on his own.

Because the other party feels that the world does not need him and there is nothing worth his concern. This emptiness and nothingness is also what ghosts fear.

It was born into this world for a mission. If its mission is accomplished, then does it have no value in existence?

If there is no value in my existence, then shouldn't I disappear?

This problem once troubled the ghost for a long time, so it kept doing tasks, and kept doing tasks.

It wants to use this opportunity to find the value of its existence, no matter what it has gained or what others have given it.

The chat group and its friends gave it an excuse to exist, preventing it from being consumed by its own savagery and allowing it to maintain its identity rather than degenerating into a mindless void god. The white flower certainly soothed people, but for how long? Without those outstretched hands, would it really still exist in this world?

The ghost also wants to help others, just as it begins to find itself and decide what it can do.

As the words began to flow, a heavy aura surged forward, causing the Cell Man's expression to take a sharp turn for the worse. The color in the Withered Skeleton's eyes became even more fanatical, and the only normal Flame Man present felt horrified.

In the other person's voice, he seemed to see a world of pure black. There was nothing, nothing existed, only the purest wildness that was ready to devour him.

Even the cell people were inevitably affected by the sound, looking directly at the pure black world, and were in a trance for a moment.

But when he came to his senses, his rage doubled.

Even though it was just two simple words, he knew very well who the other person was talking to.

The eyes hidden in the shadows were stained scarlet, and the corners of the mouth that were originally slightly raised were instantly pulled down, and the face was full of anger.

"No?" He asked back lightly, his tone was very soft, but if you listened carefully you could hear it clearly.

"What's not working?"

"Are you—ordering me?"

He bit the last few words very hard, as if he wanted to tear something into pieces and throw it into a blender, leaving no chance of survival.

"You have no right to command a king. I will not bow down for any reason. I am not your puppet, nor your subordinate. Please watch your words." Several throwing knives were suddenly caught between the fingers of the cell man. He finally raised his head slowly, revealing the expression that had been hidden in the shadows.

His eyes were filled with anger, like an enraged lion or a dragon whose territory had been invaded.

"Or, let me teach you what words are appropriate."

The cell man on the brink of explosion would not tolerate any explanation, just like when he looked coldly at those dying people and lightly gave the order to behead them.

Maybe the ghost had something to say, maybe there was some connection between these two words, or maybe there was some reason, but he didn't care. He just wanted to have another great fight. Only then could he crumple up all the confusion and helplessness and throw them aside.

After all, there is not enough time for him to think about random things during a fight.

His wrist turned flexibly, and the sound of breaking through the air was heard almost simultaneously. His speed was so fast that not even an afterimage was left. Only his empty hand and the flying knife that had already flown out could prove that he had just completed all those actions.

The ghost pulled out the bone nails the moment the other party attacked. After all, that strong malice was stuck to its body without any concealment.

Of course it could explain, but its intuition told it that the other party's condition was very unstable. Perhaps a good fight now would help stabilize the other party's mentality.

Moreover, a refreshing battle is also what it desires and pursues!

It takes pleasure in this hearty battle, second only to the snacks.

It looked at the flying knives calmly, jumped up, and faced them head-on. It swung the bone nails in its hand quickly, and those flying knives were easily deflected or knocked away, without exception.

The ghost has amazing agility and reaction speed, because the only weapon it can rely on is its bone nails. It has no shield, no armor, and the cloak is just a prop to increase its flexibility. Its body is also fragile and cannot withstand multiple blows.

It all adds up to a powerful offensive weapon.

Perhaps this is exactly what the creators wanted, because they were dealing with a god. If they were afraid and thought about defending themselves when facing a god, they would probably die faster than anything else.

So it only has the most extreme attack.

The black shadow swooped forward quickly with an unmatched posture, but the cell man was well prepared. He should have learned some lessons from the last competition. Moreover, the ghost only had a few tricks to use, while the means displayed by the cell man were far from the end.

Black light gathered on the ghost's bone nail, but it did not chop out, because a huge clamp was placed at the place where it landed. The clamp was like a beast with a ferocious mouth opened, waiting to hunt it at any time.

The cell man seemed to be prepared. He held a twisted dagger in his hand and swung it to attack.

The ghost looked at the trap. If it bit him, he would either be freed from the void or take the hit.

Or become hollow again and give up attacking.

But the ghost chose another path.

It swung the bone nail lightly downwards, and the tough, inflexible bone nail hit the huge trap heavily. The ghost used a little force and the trap closed instantly, but it was just a blow and the bone nail had already been pulled back.

The cell man's additional attack also missed perfectly. It used the bone nails to borrow the trap and leaped high up. Pure black and orderly transparent wings stretched out from its back. It looked down at the cell man, and the black void gathered in its body.

The next moment, it slammed into the ground.

The void, which was even more violent than before, surged out rapidly, as if to drown everything.

Black feathers surrounded the cell man, dense lightning collided in the feathers, and the cell man immediately floated in the air.

Like a ghost, it shows the same extremely high movement speed as a ghost escaping into the void.

He quickly distanced himself.

A crossbow appeared in his hand. Without thinking, he shot a few arrows from the direction where he had been standing before. Regardless of whether they hit the target or not, he quickly moved away, moving madly at a dazzling speed.

He knew very well that the opponent's motion capture speed was extremely fast, and he also understood that the opponent could escape into the void, but the moment he fought with the opponent, he was very sure that the opponent would definitely not dodge blindly, so he now had to use continuous attacks to force the opponent to defend blindly.

The best offense is defense. If you just defend blindly, there will always be mistakes, and he just wants to seize the opportunity of that mistake.

A crisp collision sound came from the middle point, and all the arrows flying over were deflected without a single one missing. This was a highly difficult show of strength, because the opponent could obviously take a dodgy approach instead of this kind of counterattack that danced on the edge of a knife.

The cell man almost laughed out of anger, but he forgot that he had done the same thing before, treating those so-called defeated opponents with absolute arrogance.

But now he was really angry, so he rushed forward quickly. Those crackling little lightning bolts were not decorations, and based on his last fight with the ghost, he easily judged that the other party was a little more fragile than he thought.

Even these crackling little lightning flashes might be enough to injure the ghost, and the other party would not escape into the void again, at least not before it suffered a loss.

It's no big deal if he uses some harmless tricks in his pursuit of victory.

Just like when he faced the giant, he firmly believed that he could win even without using these tricks, but what's wrong with using some tricks to make the victory easier?

But what he didn't know was that the ghost's dodging was just a conditioned reflex, because it was indeed quite fragile before. Even ordinary collisions with living creatures would probably cause some wounds, making it quite like a fragile porcelain doll.

However, after several system enhancements, coupled with the daily immersion in the void, this body can't catch arrows with its bare hands, but at least it is no longer as fragile as a porcelain doll as before.

The ghost looked at the cell man rushing towards him and subconsciously made a defensive move, but the black light accumulated on its weapon proved that it was ready to attack at any time.

But the cell man just floated past it and did nothing else, and the crackling little lightning made its cloak a little wrinkled.

This made the ghost look at the other person in confusion, and then he put his short hands behind his back with great effort, trying to pull his cloak straight.

The cell man watched everything that happened in silence, and then floated over again quickly without any warning.