Chapter 174

It's not entirely accurate to categorize everyone as blonde and blue-eyed, because there are also a few people with red skin and brown hair, and black skin and black hair in the group.

Before the crowd could get a clear look at their faces, a figure rushed out of the group and flashed through the crowd like lightning.

It's not an exaggeration, it was real lightning.

The man was enveloped in a purple-white electric current, like an overloaded plasma ball about to explode.

Players nearby felt the stinging pain of the electric current scraping their skin and quickly retreated, when suddenly they heard a deafening crackling sound.

They looked up abruptly, their eyes wide with shock, to see countless bolts of electricity coalesce into a powerful bolt of lightning that pierced through the chest of the gauntlet, tearing open a large hole!

Bang.

The Slender Man's smile froze, and his massive body slowly collapsed to the ground.

A dark-skinned young man, who looked to be under twenty, stood in front of it. He was wearing a green and white jersey, and his reddish-brown hair was tied in dreadlocks. He looked down at it, and his body crackled with electricity that had not yet dissipated.

From the moment this person appeared until he pierced through the Giraffe, the entire process took no more than two seconds.

Few people had time to react; all they could see with their naked eyes were afterimages streaking across the sky, and they could hear the explosive sounds of ions colliding.

After a moment, staring at the motionless body of the thin, ghostly figure, a player suddenly realized what was happening and shouted with ecstatic joy, "Dead! The monster has been killed!"

Immediately, someone exclaimed in surprise, "What kind of strength does this person have? This is an S-rank dungeon monster, and he actually killed it in one hit?!"

"Boss! This is a real boss! We're saved!"

With the danger averted, the female player breathed a sigh of relief, but upon turning around, she noticed her teammate's strange expression and couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong?"

"..." The teammate was a man in his thirties, with a refined and easy-going appearance, and wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

He gripped the tool he was about to use, not bothering to reply, and looked solemnly at the dreadlocked boy who had stepped forward to kill the Slender Ghost.

The boy looked up and met his eyes.

In an instant, the bespectacled man saw the boy raise the corners of his mouth and give him a contemptuous and arrogant smile, as if looking at an ant he had stepped on.

The bespectacled man suddenly gripped the prop tightly.

I knew I hadn't misheard.

Just now, the boy, accompanied by lightning, swept past him, and he heard a short whisper from above.

It wasn't Chinese; it was a minor language from South Africa. The speed was too fast to understand, but it was full of sarcasm.

Judging from the arrogant look in the eyes of the dreadlocked boy, it's probably an insulting and derogatory term.

Most players believe that in the early stages of the game, the system divided the world into continents and imposed regional restrictions in order to sow discord among human groups.

But few people know that it was not the system that first made this request, but politicians from the Americas.

American politicians are firmly opposed to the equal distribution of resources and strongly demand that the system allocate space according to national strength and the level of development of regions.

Because the players' factions are not entirely based on race or nationality, but can be selected voluntarily, they took advantage of the fact that no one understood the rules and used coercion and inducement to suppress players from other continents, forcing some cross-border countries and small countries with no resistance to join the Americas, just as a bargaining chip to expand their territory.

Subsequently, under the banner of "cultivating a savior," they occupied the high ground of public opinion and morally coerced other continents to contribute core resources.

It has to be said that this is their forte and a tactic they often use, and quite a few people have been incited to do so.

Furthermore, they secretly dispatched many players with charm skills to entice players from other continents to switch their factions.

They will stop at nothing to seize manpower.

Fortunately, the leaders of the Central Continent reacted quickly and dispatched rescue teams as soon as they discovered the large number of missing people.

It was fortunate that the game was still in its early stages back then, unlike now, where most players have enough points to open their own private territories. If someone were suddenly arrested, they would be in a truly helpless situation, with no way to get out of trouble.

When the missing players were found, they were locked up in a dilapidated makeshift factory along with players from other continents. They were injected with an unknown substance, which tormented them to the point of being delirious, and they almost signed a contract in their dazed state.

Not only do they trick them into changing sides, but they also want to make them slaves and spies so that they can turn against their own continent!

This incident enraged many leaders in the Central Continent, and their original plans to sign alliance agreements with other continents were abandoned, resulting in a stalemate.

The Central District has abandoned its usual politeness and has taken an extremely hard line, demanding that the system activate regional protection.

Players from other continents are prohibited from entering the Central Continent without permission. All statements, rumors, or defamation about the Central Continent will be further filtered and screened.

From the start of the game until now, this rule of non-aggression has always existed between the Central Continent and other continents.

It's like an invisible wall, keeping out both open and covert attacks, and the bloodshed.

But now, regional protection has been lifted, and the wall has disappeared.

Players from any continent have both good and bad sides; you can't generalize and condemn everyone.

However, it cannot be ignored that in an infinite world where civilization has collapsed and there is no legal constraint, the evil side of human nature will be amplified infinitely.

Such as prejudice, bullying, exploitation, and discrimination.

The bespectacled man frowned seriously and whispered to his bewildered teammates, "I have a bad feeling. These people probably don't have good intentions. Everyone be on guard."

Knowing that players from all continents would be working together to complete the challenge, everyone prepared. For example, the bespectacled man spent a lot of points in advance to learn the language translation skill.

He looked at the foreign team, whose leader was a man in his forties.

With his light blonde hair and deep facial features, he had a hint of European and American mixed-race features. He wore a military-style camouflage short-sleeved shirt with a bulletproof vest on top, the attire of an international mercenary.

He had a buzz cut, broad shoulders and a burly build, and sharp eyes.

Suspected team leader.

The bespectacled man adjusted his glasses, called to another teammate who had also learned translation skills, and walked towards the burly mercenary.

The live stream room was already in an uproar.

The geographical restrictions not only limit the dungeon background and the players, but also prevent viewers from freely entering live stream rooms in other continents.

Now that the restrictions have been lifted, the entire hall is packed with all sorts of people.

Black hair, red hair, blonde hair, brown hair... there are heads of all colors.

Watching foreigners on a live stream screen is a completely different experience from meeting them face-to-face in person.

An eerie atmosphere filled the air, and the audience stared at each other, falling into a deathly silence.

The stalemate was broken when the dreadlocked boy intervened.

Many foreign spectators were so excited that they shouted loudly, their faces flushed, as if they had finally gotten their revenge, and arrogantly raised their middle fingers at the audience in the Central District.

The audience in the Central Continent was targeted for no apparent reason.

They also have short tempers; if it weren't for the fact that skills and attacks on players are prohibited in the live stream lobby, they would have already thrown a punch.

Not to be outdone, they returned two international friendship gestures. The Central Continent audience smiled on the surface, but turned around and asked in annoyance and confusion, "What are these foreign devils babbling about? Someone who can translate, come over here!"

The translator hadn't arrived yet, but someone managed to find the bespectacled man's live stream room by secretly glancing at the room number.

"What exactly is going on? Can someone analyze this for me? I just came from Little Magician's live stream, and this damn system hasn't given me any clues or even the rules."

"We haven't given any rules here, but just now the streamer and his team encountered a monster in a suit, you see, that big lump lying on the ground. It can use illusion magic to turn people into dolls. When players first enter the game, they are disoriented and confused, and many people have accidentally fallen for it!"

"So cunning? The person who could turn the tables is truly amazing!"

"Yes, this is a monster from the S-rank Ghost King dungeon, and it can use wide-range confusion skills, so it's at least an elite monster. Judging from the wounds, it was clearly only dealt with in one move! Just who was the big shot who did this?"

The chat fell silent for a moment; no one answered.

The audience member from Central Asia who raised the question glanced at the strange atmosphere, then at the jubilant foreign audience on the other side, and unsurprisingly saw someone grinning and making an insulting gesture.

It immediately dawned on them that only streamers from other continents could have killed the monster, which was why these people were so arrogant.

The audience in Central Continent couldn't help but mutter under their breath, "Damn it, this scoundrel has gotten his way!"

"What kind of manners are these!"

"Just killing an elite monster, what's there to be so smug about?"

I felt an indescribable sense of frustration.

The bespectacled man who went to negotiate with the mercenaries also got a cold shoulder.

Despite having anticipated it, the bespectacled man was still enraged by their outrageous demands, and he retorted angrily, "You want us to sign contracts to become your suicide squads? On what grounds?"

The one who made this request was not the mercenary captain, but one of his subordinates.

The mercenary glanced at him indifferently, without saying a word. The next second, the dreadlocked black teenager appeared next to the bespectacled man.

A flash of lightning!

The bespectacled man's pupils narrowed, and he quickly raised his arm, managing to block the boy's lightning-infused punch with a bang. He was knocked back several steps, and his sleeves were scorched black.

"Hey, you little trash." The dreadlocked boy spoke in a strange accent, his tone sarcastic, "What gives you the right to refuse the boss's request? With your reaction speed slower than a tortoise?"

"You son of a bitch—" The teammate next to him was furious, but was stopped by the man with glasses.

He scrutinized the dreadlocked boy seriously: "Lightning Kid, ranked ninth on the Americas Power Ranking, with potential for both Strength and Speed ​​A, I recognize you."

The dreadlocked boy proudly flashed a set of white teeth, but before he could speak, he was interrupted by the bespectacled man with a sneer: "But if I may be so bold, a ranking of 55th on the overall strength list is really not good enough."

Ignoring the dreadlocked boy's wide, angry eyes, the bespectacled man looked at the leading mercenary and called out his name: "Brian, 'Thor,' I am the third squad leader of the [Peak] Guild, and also on behalf of the members of the Central Continent Foreign Affairs Organization, to raise a question to you."

The bespectacled man's eyes were sharp, and he spoke clearly, asking in a neither humble nor arrogant manner: "Is it your personal request that you make us sign the Death Squad Contract, or the intention of the Americas Region, or the European and American Federation?"

Upon hearing the title "Peak," the pale blond mercenary, who had been looking down at people, finally raised his eyelids and coldly fixed his emotionless gaze on the bespectacled man.

"peak?"

The mercenary's gaze swept around and then settled on the back of the bespectacled man's hand.

There was a gold pattern of a Chinese dragon printed there. It was S-shaped, majestic, with its eyes wide open in anger, exuding a faintly awe-inspiring power.

At this moment, its golden patterns shimmered continuously, and its eyes were like deep, dark pools. When their gazes met, one felt a strong sense of being looked down upon.

In an infinite world where cognition can be transformed into power, as long as myths and legends exist, faith will arise, and as long as faith exists, deities will be born and descend.

However, due to the system's intentional limitations, not every deity can awaken. God-like figures, such as Pangu and Zeus, who are involved in the laws of the universe, have no chance to appear.

In their quest to find the gods still alive, to sign a pact with them, and to gain the power to save the world, players once painstakingly forged a path to summon the gods with their own flesh and bones. Fortunately, they succeeded, even at an extremely tragic cost.

The Golden Dragon is the contracted deity of the Peak Guild Master.

Territorial protection is not absolute; there are level restrictions, and those with strong abilities can bypass these restrictions and move freely.

Of course, given that each continent has god-level big shots who have made contracts with deities, anyone who intrudes will be detected immediately, so under normal circumstances, no one will force their way in.

They usually send out a perfunctory application letter, and then embellish the open and covert struggles between god-level players as: regular learning exchanges and occasional friendly sparring.

As for the peak, they are probably the group of people that other continental powerhouses least want to provoke.

They inherited the will of the soldiers of Central Continent. While top-tier players in other continents were thinking about how to protect themselves, they were thinking about how to use their own deaths to gain more benefits.

"Changing one is no loss, changing two is a huge profit." This bloody statement once puzzled and horrified foreign players.

Another point is that those at the peak of their careers tend to protect their own.

And it is extremely, extremely, extremely protective of its own.

The pale blond mercenary spoke slowly, "Sorry, I didn't recognize you, my friends."

"That's just what I thought." His gaze swept down, his pupils crackling with purple lightning, like a hammer hanging overhead. "The weak submit to the strong; that's common sense—"

The mercenary's voice was not as rugged as his appearance; on the contrary, it could be described as gentle.

But his gaze and attitude were extremely oppressive, as if he would grab the head of anyone who disagreed and slam them to the ground at any moment!

The bespectacled man's face immediately darkened.

The viewers in the Central Plains region of the live stream were furious.

The audience in the Americas was absolutely thrilled, cheering and shouting wildly!

They didn't see the blond mercenary's arrogance as bullying the weak. They were proud of his toughness and imposing presence.

The audience in Zhongzhou District gritted their teeth: "Damn it, can't we just go over there and beat them up?"

"Who is this arrogant man? I really want to punch him!"

Some people noticed the mercenary's incredibly high viewership in his livestream and realized something was wrong. They checked his identity information and immediately broke out in a cold sweat, muttering, "Damn it, how could it be him?"

Some people pressed for an answer: "Who exactly is he?"

"His nickname is Brian Odinson..."

“Odinson?” Someone found the foreign surname strangely familiar, and suddenly remembered a character often mentioned in a good Hollywood movie, blurting out, “Isn’t Odin the king of the gods in Norse mythology?”

Then he saw his companion's extremely pale face and gasped, "Could it be?"

“Yes, Brian’s surname is derived from Odin. He is a god-level player ranked sixth in the overall strength ranking of the entire continent.” The more the audience member spoke, the more his heart sank. “It is rumored that he obtained the power of the gods in the dungeon, and the god who signed a contract with him was none other than Thor.”

At that moment, the audience members from Zhongzhou District who heard these words nearby felt their hearts tighten instantly!

.

Xie Xubai's rhetorical question seemed extremely damaging. Even when Xie Xubai looked at the chessboard again, the cloaked man was giving him a cold, deathly stare.

It seems that "no one loves me" really hit a nerve.

Serial killers are typically cold-blooded, inhuman, and highly dangerous antisocial individuals.

To be honest, Xie Xubai was a little surprised that the cloaked man cared so much about "love".

If we investigate further, could we find the cloaked man's weakness and then find a way to kill him?

Xie Xubai looked at the chess piece that the cloaked man was stroking with his fingertips, and after a moment, said calmly, "It seems that if I don't make a move, you can't make any more moves either."

"Nonsense," the cloaked figure sneered. "What kind of Go player can place two stones in a row?"

Playing two pieces in a row is a foul and will result in losing the entire game.

Xie Xubai paused for a moment, then glanced at the chess pieces under the cloaked man's seat.

The surface of the bottom one was shrouded in a hazy mist, like a silky, smoky black ribbon.

These are the black pieces that have been placed into the world of the chessboard.

But it did not disappear.

When the Slender Man was killed, Xie Xubai made a point of observing it and found that it was still hanging in mid-air perfectly fine, without any change.

That only illustrates a terrifying fact.

Xie Xubai suddenly asked in a calm voice, "Your chess piece was killed by the player, aren't you worried at all?"

The cloaked figure looked at him and gave a slight smirk.

Xie Xubai said, "Or did it never die at all?"

There was a silence of about ten seconds.

The cloaked figure suddenly chuckled softly.

He casually propped his chin up with one hand, his eyes gleaming with mockery. His words were concise yet chilling: "When have you ever seen a chess piece killed by the chessboard?"

The mockery wasn't directed at Xie Xubai.

Rather, it is the world of chess, filled with countless players who consider themselves powerful but are completely unaware of their own predicament.

.

When the Slender Man fell down, the bespectacled man's companion naturally didn't forget to run over to check on him.

This is an S-rank Ghost King dungeon; a single mistake could be fatal. If you don't intentionally finish off the monster, the chance of it coming back to life is almost 100%.

After a frenzied beating, burning and freezing, the thin, ghostly figure's corpse was ground into powder, and the ashes were scattered. Only then did their hearts, which had been hanging in their throats, finally settle down.

Surrounding the cart were many fluffy, palm-sized dolls, who were alienated players, huffing and puffing as they climbed up the cart's metal frame.

The observing players cautiously approached, examining the doll's clothes and claiming their companions.

The fact that the doll-like player's name hasn't gone gray in the contacts list means that they haven't completely died.

Perhaps they can find a way to help their companions regain their human form in the trials to come.

At that moment, an extremely cold aura invaded the players' limbs and bones from behind, and a huge shadow loomed over them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my love~" A strange and cheerful voice suddenly rang out.

The players froze, overwhelmed by a wave of fear, and turned back in disbelief.

The tall, thin, ghostly figure of the gentleman, who had long been "dead," stood behind them, almost touching their backs.

They felt short of breath, and the air became unusually thick. The thick, cold air, like a soft, slippery tongue, eagerly rushed in through their mouths and noses, probing into their internal organs.

They were horrified to see adorable, fairytale-like patterns gradually appearing on their hands.

Those are the patterns on the doll's fabric.

The thin, ghostly figure's lips curled upwards into an unbelievable arc, almost reaching his ears, as if painted on with white oil paint.

A chilling, inhuman feeling washed over us. Its eyes narrowed to slits, and it gave a polite, gentlemanly smile: "The Black King's game is about to begin. Would you like to join us?"