Chapter 191 Villains Who Work Hard

456

"Adam—Adam."

The Declined King boredly squeezed the toy in his hand, pressed down the blond human's left eye, and made a soft popping sound in the eye socket, and then watched the eye slowly repair itself and swell again.

He put his thumb against the avatar's temple and pressed down hard, as if he was pinching a decompression toy. He pressed the avatar's temple into a deep depression, and his eyeballs bulged out horribly.

If we had to find a similarity in human behavior, it would be squeezing stuffed bubble wrap to pass the time, and they also made similar sounds.

"The door to the land abandoned by God is about to open for me."

"Origin, I can at least get one of the opportunities for the Kingdom of God to come to the real world."

The current form of the mythical creature no longer has claws, teeth or bones, but this does not prevent it from tormenting others.

He grabbed the avatar with one hand like a doll, stretched out his index finger with the other hand, gently placed it on Adam's abdomen, slowly applied pressure, and finally penetrated his abdomen to create a large hole that was transparent from front to back. In this world similar to the Kingdom of God, illusory blood scattered like light and shadow, and the avatar's eyebrows twitched twice, but still endured the instinctive reaction of pain.

But the painful time it spent was so long, and endless negative emotions and painful memories filled the corners of its memory. It was emotionally unbalanced like a human being, just waiting for the day it was detonated.

"Endure the pain and restrain fear. If you want to make you slip towards humanity, attacking your mind is useless. To deal with the best psychiatrist in the world, direct harm is more effective." The outer god said to him leisurely, "It seems you don't want to say anything."

"Will your body also endure pain?"

He was speaking, but the words he spoke did not belong to any language. Each syllable was as strange as the human vocal cords that could only be uttered after aging and tearing. Just like the rustling of leaves blown by the wind, and the friction of vines and dry branches against each other, this sound did not come from the ears, but sounded directly in the brain of the avatar, arousing goosebumps one after another.

This virtual shell didn't even open its mouth, it didn't even bother to pretend.

He looked down at the toy in his hand, and curled his fingers to touch the lively beating heart - this was what Adam saw. In fact, it should be a more weird and terrifying scene, such as those dry and rough branches piercing him. The abdomen, while fixing his body, extended out small branches and pierced into his internal organs - the horrible touch of the heart being rubbed turned into the ultimate negative emotion and rushed into the mind of the avatar. The amplitude was neither big nor small. The ground shook for a moment, and then his mind went blank, the negative emotions disappeared, and only the pain continued.

"Your true form is much harder to deal with than yours. I don't have time to spend another hundred years torturing Him..."

As this terrifying guest from the stars spoke, he used the branches and roots imitated as hands to interact with Adam's organs, treating the human body's abdominal and chest cavities as a puzzle piece, randomly changing the positions of the internal organs, and filling the piece in different ways. puzzle.

Just torture the avatar. No matter how the creature is transformed by divinity, it still has instincts, such as subconsciously closing its eyes when seeing others throwing punches, and flinching or even phantom pain when watching others get hurt. Save and collect all the pain, joy, hatred, despair, and thoughts of giving up that have occurred countless times over the past hundred years, and press them deep in the mind of the virtual personality.

As a virtual personality consistent with Adam, is it not natural for the main body to be affected by the pain of the subroutine when it returns?

It doesn't speak, it's so boring. The King of Decay crushed His lungs at the thought that the angel could survive without air.

"Human beings" need to breathe, and self-recognition is a human virtual personality. Naturally, the virtual personality also needs to breathe. The Outer God saw that it had lost its usual "operation mode", and suddenly opened its eyes wide with a ferocious and twisted expression, and accepted this part of the pain with satisfaction.

Heart, arteries, lungs... The human body has too many fatal weaknesses, so in what form will the weaknesses of the "visionary" manifest themselves? Of course, he knew that gods and angels had no weaknesses in the physical sense, but he still felt that if the "visionary" had a fatal weakness, it would undoubtedly be the brain.

"You should have heard of 'brain in a vat'."

The Decline King's eyes fell on the cold sweat-covered forehead of the avatar, and he whispered with interest:

"Referring to Al Suhod's writing, can a writer's brain continue to arrange stage plays and put them into reality? Can it serve as the core of a huge system, constantly carrying out fantasy and calculations?"

"Say something, or I'll think you don't need a throat or vocal cords."

The virtual personality was silent for a few seconds and was forced to think: "Are you going to attack the main body?"

"You can only think of this..."

The Outer God sighed in an extremely humane manner, pinched the avatar's neck with two fingers, and crushed it lightly. The avatar's head rolled to the side like a ball without a string, as if it had been hit hard. The virtual personality saw its own back. Its spine was broken, its vocal cords were torn, and the flesh and blood inside its neck were separated, leaving only the outer skin still connected. It won't be able to make any sound for a while.

It happened that he had nothing to say, so he simply closed his eyes and tilted his head to pretend that he was dead. Because its mind is in chaos, the roots of the Outer God can always gently caress its cerebral cortex when it is trying to regain its sanity, twisting its only rationality into inarticulate gibberish and nonsense with malice. It makes him unable to control himself like an epileptic patient.

The human body is mainly composed of water, and piercing a person's body is actually no different from piercing a bag filled with water. Without the extraordinary characteristics, the body and mythical creature form that had only been strengthened once did not have much defense... The Decline King fiddled with Adam's head and straightened his head with the spine disconnected.

He had to fix the props after kneading them. After all, they still had a use.

The virtual personality's limbs were constantly twitching, and its two eyebrows came together like worms, enduring unimaginable and boundless pain.

“I will not catch Him, for He will come to me and fall into my hands.”

His voice had an almost hypnotic magic power, and in an instant, the virtual personality felt that the pain in his body disappeared, and he even felt a little relaxed. The consciousness returned, and if it hadn't been for the fact that it still couldn't control its head and throat, it would have almost suspected that everything it had just encountered was an illusion.

"Your struggle is in vain, just like humans who are destined to slip into the abyss of death."

"Your body cannot escape my grasp, and you will all be controlled by me."

“Sacrificing others doesn’t make you look like you have a big picture, you should lead by example and be a meaningless sacrifice.”

"This is the curse I give you."

"so……"

"Do you want to die now?"

The voice of the Outer God can be described as gentle.

He looked at the virtual personality just like a human looks at a tiny reptile. Life and death depended on His preference.

…

Edward took the thin book away from his face, then opened his eyes, stretched out on the sofa.

"Six hundred and seventy-two questions were asked, thirteen were 'yes', and the rest were all rejections. Even a virtual personality with factory settings still has strong patience and mental toughness." He muttered, as if The container's half-asleep status and half-hearted acting create a state somewhere between an alien god and a demon. Then his expressions and movements began to become flexible, and the part of consciousness that made up "Edward Vaughn" came to the surface. Edward found the glasses that he had thrown away before taking a nap from the carpet, put them on, and stood up to make himself a cup of coffee.

When the kettle began to steam, Edward slowly and leisurely ground the coffee powder. He always preferred the Fermo coffee from the Pas Valley produced in the southern continent, which has a mellow taste. Without the high shipping charges and tariffs, the price of direct sales from the origin was only about two-thirds of that sold within Loen. Edward bought ten cans in one go and drank it slowly.

"In fact, it only takes one surrender, and the rest is the icing on the cake, increasing the success rate."

"The 'audience' approach is really interesting. I sit in the audience in the early stage and go behind the scenes in the later stage... Is this a natural way to write after seeing a lot? I just don't know what the writer has accomplished in these thousands of years. What a masterpiece."

The hotel was filled with the bitter aroma of coffee. Edward took out the filter paper and filter cup, assembled and rinsed them, put in the coffee powder, and then slowly added water to them to filter out the coffee solution.

After more than ten minutes, He got a cup of warm coffee, about 300 ml.

Looking at the ordinary brown-black liquid surface of the coffee, Edward had a sudden idea. After letting it cool down, he poured milk into the coffee.

"If I remember correctly, the full name of the writer is 'fairy tale writer', right? Although it may be just a prefix added by the creator's personal preference, but look at Adam, who has written so many arrangements and wars, what kind of cult fairy tales are they? …”

At four or five o'clock in the afternoon, the sun had not yet set in the southern continent. Edward sat at the window with a cup of coffee and began to process the recent backlog of intelligence information. He drank a corner of the devil's path symbol in the latte art in one gulp.

"The North family chose to establish a major cooperative relationship with the Church of Steam? Well, the dark night is too risky, and the storm is difficult to deal with. They chose the food industry, and they can purchase a large number of machines from the Church of Steam. This is the right approach."

Edward gave a casual reminder:

"Carry out normal business struggles to expand industry, show your own brand, and show ambition appropriately, then the church will feel that they control you."

"Try to gain the trust of the church in the early stage and strive to become the main food supplier for Loen's rear during the war."

It is much easier to directly manipulate the frontline rations than the devils living in the corners of the southern continent to perform murders one by one. What's more, during this period, there is plenty of time and space to "properly" let some competitors disappear.

The Demon Family was grateful for the response, and the leader, the talker named Milan, expressed his loyalty and gratitude for the umpteenth time.

A young and ambitious person is always easy to control, whether he is a demon or not. The North family was originally the most powerful among the three major demon families, but was suppressed because Beria defected to the Mother Tree of Desire early and was slow to commit his allegiance. After being suppressed for nearly a thousand years, the North family, which has become the worst-off among the three major families, couldn't wait to rush over and hugged the legs of another newly promoted demon king. The most loyal.

Of course, talking about loyalty to a demon is a stupid thing to do.

If you have to say what the devil is loyal to, the answer can only be his own desires and power.

After processing the North family's prayers, Edward turned his attention to the two young people he had chosen in the southern continent.

In a sense, people who can pray directly to God and have a high probability of receiving a direct response from God are favored by God, but God himself does not think so. He favors no one equally, answering prayers is simply necessary to achieve the goal faster.

"Have they begun to suspect that I am indeed Si'a? Well, this way it will be difficult for the indulgent faction to see the problem, unless Si'a himself comes to ask - he certainly doesn't have the time, and he doesn't look down on such small things. With him His brain capacity is the limit if he can save his life under the vigilance of the Seven Gods and carry out some bloody revenge on the Northern Continent colonies from time to time."

Edward noticed their current position.

"It's in East Balam. It's quite fast. It's so close to the Harvest Plains. Next time, we can ask them to sacrifice some meat other than human beings."

The Harvest Plain is an important production area for animal husbandry in the Southern Continent. The mild climate and abundant aquatic plants produce very delicious Southern Continent specialty beef and mutton. There is a delicacy called Sauce Grilled Steak in the interior of East Balam, which is also a popular specialty in the northern continent. Grilled beef steak in a sauce made with southern continental spices, plus eggs, rice, potatoes, onions, garlic, olive oil, a little cumin and chilli.

The steak is medium rare, charred on the outside and tender on the inside, and full of flavor. It has a completely different flavor from the pan-fried steak in the North Continent.

"After all, only the middle part of the back and the meat below the waist are closer to the taste of steak."

"As for the Beyonders, most of them taste pretty good..."

"Yes, actually it's not bad to engage in cannibalism in this era. Let's talk to North about it later."

Edward drank coffee and talked to himself for a while. He was not in a hurry to respond to them. He just hinted as usual that they should continue deep into West Balam, cross the harvest plain, and go to the Highland Kingdom ruins and Star Plateau where the Indulgence faction is the main activity. Try to participate in this year's rose. The great priest of the school.

"...Although that is actually quite boring. Apart from praising you, you are just indulging your desires. Even the food is not delicious."

You can't rely entirely on others to seize other pathway sequence one, let alone the true Creator. As long as we can rely on these two young people to touch Si'a's location, the cult will be in internal strife and the gods will die violently. How satisfying!

It is still effective to test the true Creator's bottom line. He does not reach out to the uniqueness, but seeks to seize the prisoner's way to the first sequence. He can't continue to find trouble!

457

Medici put his feet up on the table, and after listening to the Lord's response for a while, he picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at Traynor's head.

Traynor tilted his head and looked at Red Angel doubtfully.

"You performed very well in this operation." Medici said lazily. "Providing important clues and summarizing the action reports along the way are the most important. You have done a good job in intelligence. You have practiced at Sauron's house. ?”

Traynor nodded: "The intelligence department is managed jointly by the Secret Order and the Sauron family. I once interned there for a period of time."

Medici nodded, not taking it too seriously:

"The Iron-Blooded Cross has been very enthusiastic about its activities recently. You just happened to successfully complete an assist and you can set a good example."

"Forget it if I get a personal certificate first. Can you give me a holiday?"

"Capable people should be given more jobs."

Traynor then took out the resignation procedure that he had prepared long ago from the drawer in front of the Red Angel.

As the administrator of the Intis section and one of the few saints left, he even had it stamped to himself.

Medici stretched out his legs and pushed the drawer back: "Don't be so boring. The reward and punishment system of the Aurora Society has been very successful and fully mobilized the enthusiasm of the staff (Trainor: They are already very active.), so I think Iron-Blooded It can also be implemented within the Cross Society. As long as you are reported to the Aurora Society, you can compete with the Aurora Society's divine envoys for months to be an outstanding employee and set an example."

God's messengers? Traynor's mind came to those unfamiliar Mr. and Mrs. Alphabet. It is said that in order to compete for the outstanding employee with the first monthly performance, they have broken out countless small civil wars internally, and they have broken their heads in various senses. Blood flow.

"...What's the reward for first place?"

"The Lord's divine spell."

...Although it was a charm given by the true god, representing supreme favor and glory, what came to Traynor's mind was the image of children in the nursery fighting for the little red flower in the teacher's hand. He shook his head: "I No shortage of charms.”

Are you speaking human language? Medici laughed angrily: "You are not missing either! The Aurora Society is still worried about your parachute landing to grab the first place. Since you don't believe in the Lord, then please believe in me in the future."

…

In the land abandoned by God, the frequency of lightning gradually decreases in the evening.

A few hundred meters outside Silver City, several men with torches and armors and animal skins were patrolling.

This is the daily activity of the residents of Silver City, and it is also the task that cannot be slacked off. As they were walking, one of them suddenly paused, then pointed at the bottomless darkness ahead: "——Look!"

Is there anything unusual? The others instantly entered a state of alert, clenching the weapons in their hands and looking in the direction pointed by their companions. They saw a glimmer of light quietly appearing in the darkness, a bright, stable point of light that did not flicker like a flame.

This ray of light does not belong to the patrol! Today's hunting team did not come back from this direction!

The light does not come from Silver City, where does it come from? The people in the patrol team felt astonishment, fear, nervousness, worry and other emotions at the same time, as well as a hint of unspeakable curiosity and expectation.

"...Alert!" the captain immediately issued the order. They changed into battle formation and waited for the dim firelight to approach.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment, and every second was so slow. Finally, after the fire light grew bigger, a figure was illuminated.

A figure, at least a human-like figure... The patrol team in Silver City held their breath at the same time. They had no experience with visitors in the dark and didn't know how to deal with them. They could only wait quietly for the figure to approach them and walk to their door. In the firelight.

The visitor had a stooped figure and was wearing a dark black robe made of a material the City of Silver had never seen before.

His face was wrinkled and peaceful, but his dark eyes shone with a cunning light, proving that he was not as kind as he appeared.

This is an old man. After seeing the person clearly, this word appeared in everyone's mind——

old.

Except for the long-lived saints, Silver City is composed of young adults, middle-aged people and children. There are very few "aging" people in the true sense. There were too few people who had lost their fertility, had no ability to hunt, were not mortally wounded, and had younger generations who brought enough food to support them. The old man Yudel who was parasitized by Amon that Derrick met at the bottom of the round tower was already aging naturally in an extremely rare way.

The steady light came from the lantern in the old man's hand. It seemed to be an extraordinary item.

As they looked at the old man, the old man looked at them. The old man smiled and said:

"Hello."

"I come from the Emerald City, bringing with me the will of the great Lord."

They speak giant language, which is rational and communicative...but these are cultists from other cities who believe in evil gods! The patrol team was terrified, but their bodies were out of control at all, as stiff as stone. The old man still had a peaceful smile on his face. He pulled out a flashing jewelry from his collar and held it up in front of the patrol team.

It was a cross made of silver.

It is the sign of the Lord!

As the light enveloped them, the consciousness of the patrol team began to fade, and their vigilance was purified unconsciously.

"Lambs, I ask you on behalf of the Lord: Is there a child with strange signs born in your city?"

The Angel of the Holy Word waited quietly for the patrol team to speak. As early as half a year ago, He came here and asked the patrol team at that time, but did not get the answer he wanted.

"In our city..." One of them opened his eyes and spoke involuntarily.

"A child is about to be born... Our chief said..." Another person's mind was also controlled and he added.

"He is a little angel who brings good luck..."

The Holy Word Angel suddenly opened his eyes wide, and then smiled. The shackles on the patrol team disappeared in an instant. They woke up from a dream and once again assumed a vigilant and fighting posture in front of Steve.

"Don't be nervous, I am a guest from the Emerald City, your compatriot, and the Lord's shepherd."

The lantern in Steve's hand bloomed with light, warm and bright, shining on several people, quietly disintegrating their vigilance and negative emotions. Seeing that they still refused to let go, Steve smiled slightly and took a step back to the boundary between the firelight and the shadow.

"I'm waiting five hundred meters away."

"I would like to meet your chief."

TBC

——————

The day after he gave up participating in the selection of outstanding employees of the Aurora Society, Traynor received a letter of thanks jointly written by the angels of the gods.

The letter praised Traynor as a glorious, noble, full of dedication and friendship, and a compatriot who has escaped from vulgar taste. He is the model of the Aurora Society, the yearning of God’s envoys, and the well-deserved outstanding Lamb of the Lord!

Traynor burned it after reading it, wrote himself another resignation letter and stamped it just in case.