franphil Chapter 269: A Scam by Capital
Chapter 269: A Scam by Capital
Chapter 269: A Scam by Capital
"That's fine too."
Xia Er could tell that Medici was really not afraid of a fight, and he accepted it calmly.
Only those from all five families need to fight like cornered beasts.
This is consistent with Mao's usual style of doing things; the more difficult the situation, the tougher his stance becomes.
He didn't necessarily want to be God, so he didn't care, but the guess just now really startled him.
I never thought much of myself when I went crazy before, always thinking I could clean up the mess. At worst, I'd just die before causing any more trouble. But now, when I suspect someone else is going crazy, I'm really scared. I'm afraid some stubborn kid will give up and drag their feet when it's time to die, leaving others to clean up their mess.
Looking at Chael's expression, Medici felt inexplicably discouraged. He looked at Chael with great helplessness and said:
"My dear White Emperor, aren't the paths of the recluse and the perfectionist better? Aren't you quite comfortable using them? Why do you insist on getting involved in everything?"
You don't understand. Xia Er just smiled and didn't give any answer. He was special. Whether it was a transmigrator's cheat or something else, Xia Er felt no sense of security unless he came into contact with more authority over time, mind, destiny, knowledge, chaos, creation, etc.
I'd be happy if it became a bug that the world fixed someday.
If, unfortunately, a thunderbolt were to explode, perhaps only God and the Heavenly Venerable would be able to protect him.
"Alright."
Medici wasn't disappointed that he didn't get a reply from Chael. After all, that was the nature of a hermit. They never spoke about things that truly concerned their own secrets, and they were rather indifferent. But there was nothing to say about that; all Sequence 0 beings were basically like that.
Red Angel felt that the Hermit definitely had a lot in common with the Imaginary Angel Adam. Both of them were the kind of guys who would sacrifice allies without hesitation to complete the exchange, depending on the situation. As for why they wouldn't sacrifice themselves, Little Red curled her lips in disdain. These guys always thought they were more useful than others and couldn't be sacrificed casually.
"I have a question out of curiosity."
"Is the decline of the Sauron family related to you... or rather, the Ironblood Cross Society?"
Seeing that the conversation was coming to an end, Xia Er asked a question as well.
"you guess."
Medici chuckled, revealing a sly expression.
"Quite capable."
Xia Er expressed his admiration, saying that he truly deserved to be called the former King of Angels. Although he lost the promotion match, his record was by no means weak.
"The Soren family has declined."
Medici felt worse than if he had eaten a bitter melon when he saw Chael praise him.
"I can tell."
Xia Er's tone was calm; he already knew this.
"Then they can be considered your descendants."
"You should be capable of intervening, right?"
Medici, reminiscing about the past, suddenly spoke up.
"They're not all dead."
"And what about the angels?"
Shael remained unconcerned. Perhaps the temporary decline had caused the Soren family to lose some of its extraordinary characteristics, but this did not affect the Soren family's survival and honor. The so-called royal title was not a very valuable thing and was not worth caring about.
"Letting Russell Gustav overthrow his own bloodline, ugh, I wonder what kind of expression that woman Sauron would have if she knew."
Medi chuckled strangely twice, and his figure vanished in a flash of fire.
Even God can die.
Even Penglai can perish.
And what about the others?
Chael also turned around, preparing to leave, but suddenly stopped just before leaving the door.
If Banshee weren't haunted, wouldn't Mr. Fool's journey be somewhat incomplete?
Time flew by, and darkness fell in an instant.
The telegraph office was already closed at this time, but Xia'er was still inside. As for the polluted aura, it wasn't actually that strong. The Celestial Venerable's barrier was still very strong most of the time, after all, the Source Castle was still patching up the holes.
He sat in the telegraph office chair, holding a book with a cover entwined with illusory feathered serpents, his fingers rhythmically tapping the telegraph machine in his hand.
Behind him, the old wooden door gradually began to exude an ominous aura, as if dark red bloodstains were dripping down the wall, and the smell of blood began to spread in the room.
"That won't do. I'm just covering someone else's night shift; I don't want to do extra cleaning work."
As Xia Er opened the "Queen of the Feathered Serpent" in his hand, the entire room instantly became incredibly quiet. It wasn't the kind of quiet where no one spoke, but rather a quiet that felt as if a coffin had enveloped the room, a true silence where no one spoke. Even the bloodstains seeping from the wooden door seemed to freeze. All activity seemed to lose its meaning in the face of death.
"It's not just doors that are good at sealing."
He tore off several illusory pages and let them float into the air. These pages turned into tiny white fluff and landed on the door. The old wooden door slowly turned white, and the dangerous aura subsided. The price was that inside the pages, in addition to the pale yellow oil stains, there were also some dark red bloodstains.
It's not a big problem. He doesn't accept the uniqueness of Death anyway. At worst, he can find a skilled thief to help him steal the contamination.
Chaer turned the tainted page and saw a dark red copy on the back: a bridge, a train, and a swollen girl covering her face with a fan. (Too many elements.)
Xia Er took a closer look. The clothes that could still be identified among the tentacles were yellow and black silk garments, not the more elaborate cheongsams. He turned a few more pages, but just looking through a door, the things he could observe were really limited. The only consolation was that there were no rickshaws in the background pictures.
"The influence of this door can still be controlled, but I'll have to deal with the monsters that spawn at night myself, and I'll also need to implant certain psychological suggestions through hypnosis. I'm going to be busy tonight."
Despite his complaints, Xia Er showed no signs of weariness or exhaustion. Referring to the information he had gathered last time, and utilizing the authority of the Grim Reaper and the vast resources of the Underworld as materials, he sculpted a flying head that he had seen in a comic book in his memory.
He first pulled off the extra one, and then used it as a template to create a batch of flying heads with vivid expressions and different ways of dying. Next came some dream demons that could appear in the moonlight, slow-moving but hard-bodied blood corpses.
Once he confirmed that there were enough monsters left for Gehrman Sparrow to happily grind his role-playing progress, Xia Er stopped, realizing that it had been a long time since he had played a role-playing game.
Forget it, acting is a waste of time. I'll just give him a quick hypnosis session and that'll be the end of it.
The next morning, Xia Er handed over the shift to the telegraph office staff who had been sleeping in at home. The monsters that were being created were also hidden away, only to emerge at night and stir up a whirlwind when Gehrman Sparrow's landing was detected.