Chapter 244

The boy, whose body was wrapped in bandages, didn't say a word, as if he couldn't be bothered to answer his question.

The bearded man touched his nose dejectedly, about to pull his head back, when he suddenly heard the boy utter two words: "...anchor point".

"It's mine, the anchor point..."

The voice was hoarse and filled with exhaustion and uneven breathing. Looking further down, a large pool of blood flowed down from the boy's slightly bent body, slamming heavily onto the ground and forming a small puddle of blood within seconds.

The middle-aged man's brow twitched violently. He propped himself up, limped over, and turned the boy around to take a look.

Just as expected!

The opponent's chest was covered in blood, severely injured by a sharp weapon or spell. The wound was so deep that bone was visible, the bandages were torn in several places, and the flesh was turned inside out. It was a truly shocking sight!

"My goodness! Do you have any more items? Quickly, look for them! If all else fails, use your points to exchange for a few low-level healing spells!"

After the uncle finished speaking, he realized that he was talking nonsense. After several fierce battles, all the means to save their lives had been used up. Who had any extra points left in their pocket?

He frantically scanned his surroundings, so anxious that he knelt down and turned one of the corpses over, muttering "Forgive me, forgive me," as he pried the unused props from the corpse's hand.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a healing item.

So we had no choice but to keep searching.

One by one, the corpses were turned over by the old man's hands, their unclosed eyes staring at the gray sky.

In an infinite game, players who are used to seeing death usually end up in one of three ways.

One type gradually develops a morbid enjoyment of the power of life and death; the other type becomes increasingly indifferent and numb, treating it like simply chopping vegetables.

Another type is when the pressure accumulates to the point of collapse, leading to escapism from games or even suicide to erase memories.

Although there was nothing wrong on the surface, it was noticeable that the uncle was searching at a slower and slower pace.

At one point, he suddenly froze, staring at the familiar face of a corpse, as if he had been frozen in place, his lips trembling uncontrollably.

"No, it doesn't matter."

At that moment, the boy's weak voice came through: "I can heal myself, I won't die."

"I won't die..." The boy lowered his head, repeating the sentence over and over, as if he were devoutly casting a spell to prolong his life. "I made a promise with them."

The man suddenly came to his senses.

As if deeply moved by the boy's last words, he wiped his face with a bitter smile: "I really can't die. If I die, I won't remember anything, including those promises and commitments... Sigh!"

He tried to help the boy sit down, but the latter shook his head and insisted, "Sit down. I want to sleep. No."

"..." The uncle stared at his extremely serious face, hesitated for a long time, and then tentatively changed his advice, "If you stand like this, your muscles will be tense, which will put pressure on the wound and make the bleeding go faster. People who could have survived will die now."

The composed young man suddenly looked at the middle-aged man, his pupils trembling, and his panic was visible to the naked eye.

The uncle only felt a blur before his eyes, and in the blink of an eye, the boy slid to the ground like an eel slipping through his fingers, lying flat and peacefully.

"I... I remember now." The boy's voice trembled with pain as he said solemnly, "That's right, thank you."

Uncle: "..."

Where on earth did this lovable character come from?

The uncle had witnessed the boy's ruthless charge into battle during the fight. With each swift movement, blood splattered as his blade fell. Every strike was as decisive and swift as autumn leaves swept away by the wind. The boy's gaze was cold and icy, devoid of any warmth.

After seeing too many scenes of slaughtering like mowing grass, one might get the illusion that the boy isn't human, but a killing machine.

However, after exchanging a few words with him, I realized that the young man was simply single-minded.

The middle-aged man, both amused and exasperated, sat down next to the boy, when suddenly a sharp pain shot through him, causing him to gasp.

Looking down, I noticed that my right leg, which had been given only basic treatment, was bleeding. I guessed that the movement had been too strong and had reopened the wound.

He currently has no healing items left, and has no choice but to endure it. However, on the battlefield, a leg injury is almost a death sentence.

The middle-aged man sighed with a worried look on his face, but when he looked up, he saw the boy tear off a piece of bandage from his body and hand it to him: "Use this, it will help."

The boy still remembers what Yu You (Xie Xubai's pseudonym) once taught him: Only by giving back kindness can there be reciprocity.

The man was stunned for a moment, and as he took the bandage, a tool notification popped up in front of him.

It turns out that this bandage is actually an S-level recovery item; even the torn or fallen parts have A-level healing power!

When he looked again at the boy's wound, he saw that the flesh was tightening and healing, and he suddenly realized why the other party could remain calm despite being so badly injured.

He didn't stand on ceremony, thanked them, and followed the instructions to wrap the half-bandage around the wound, stopping the bleeding in less than a second.

The uncle was overjoyed!

This also indirectly shows how serious the boy's injuries were, as he was still bleeding even while talking.

The key point is that the boy still has the will to survive. Since that's the case, he should stay away from dangerous areas and try to survive to the end.

He paused for a moment, then suddenly remembered the boy's initial answer: "By the way, what did you mean by 'anchor point' earlier?"

The Speaker of Parliament had previously told him that the anchor point could be a person, a thing, or a deep-seated belief.

It is like an anchor dropped by a ship in a storm; as long as it exists, it will not lose its way.

Without thinking, the boy said, "Yu You and Lele."

Who is that? That name sounds so familiar... Wait a minute!

The uncle's pupils widened suddenly as he recalled the widely circulated rumors from the past—the strange tales that occurred in the "Dragon Slayer" dungeon.

Then look at the boy's signature outfit.

Covered in bandages from head to toe? It's confirmed! This young man is none other than the infamous "scapegoat" Chan Sheng! He was so covered in dirt that I didn't recognize him at all.

As we all know, Chan Sheng possesses a substitution skill that can ignore dungeon restrictions. At the same time, he is not very intelligent and is particularly obedient, which makes him highly sought after by many players.

However, this fervent pursuit contains a degree of utilitarianism, treating teenagers as scapegoats.

If it were someone else, whose life and death were not in their own hands, who was constantly tossing and turning in various ways to die, and who was constantly being used as a reusable blood bag, they would probably have gone mad and turned evil long ago.

Only this dim-witted kid doesn't care about anything, or perhaps he's completely unaware of how miserable he is.

He was dazed and unconscious, and no one else could save him.

Like a drowning person, if you throw a swimming ring to them, anyone with a brain knows they can grab it and use the buoyancy to swim to shore. But a silly child will spit out water and shout, "Glug... your thing... cough cough glug... fell!"

Then they thrashed about in the water, trying every possible way to throw the swimming ring back.

That's pretty much how nonsensical it is.

Therefore, many viewers felt sorry for Chan Sheng, and many people thought he was pathetic and angry at his lack of ambition.

As for the older man... he's a bit of both.

He once anonymously donated money to Chansheng at the urging of his fans; it wasn't much, just a token of his appreciation.

It was only later that they learned that all the points had been taken by the organizers, and Chan Sheng, whose memory had been wiped due to being replaced, was still clueless and knew nothing.

Even when the councilor later upheld justice for Chan Sheng and arrested those guys to confront him in court, the boy still politely greeted those who had wronged him, which made the older man laugh in exasperation.

After getting angry, he didn't know what to say, so he just let out a heavy sigh.

Even before the Infinite Game, a creature like Chan Sheng might not have survived, let alone in this cannibalistic world. There are so many unfortunate people that there's no way to save them all.

The people in the courtroom had different gazes: some were amused, some were pitied, and many others harbored ill intentions. Only the boy remained bewildered.

That scene seemed to foreshadow the boy's tragic end, and the fervor for advocating for justice for him gradually cooled down.

People gradually became accustomed to the idea that "the cicada is born to die in someone else's place," and even felt that this was its only value.

Looking at the solitary Chan Sheng, the middle-aged man suddenly realized, "Where is your guardian?"

"Guardian" is a euphemism; the uncle cursed those guys in his heart as accomplices trying to exchange lives, but he couldn't say it to Chan Sheng's face.

Chan Sheng said, "I'm all grown up now, I don't need a guardian."

The uncle was both amused and exasperated, thinking to himself that this guy was a complete idiot, and then he couldn't help but sigh.

Chan Sheng took a breath, his gaze icy, and said matter-of-factly, "Also, those who want me to take the blame are not qualified to supervise me."

Uncle: "..."

The uncle stared wide-eyed in astonishment!

"You actually knew those people were just trying to use you as a shield?"

Chan Sheng nodded: "I know."

He had always known.

It's not quite right to say "always". It's more accurate to say that I only realized what I had been through when I was pushed out as a scapegoat. But by then, it was too late to say anything.

Until "The Dragon Slayer," Yu again protected him from all dangers. He seemed to see a towering figure in that slender silhouette, and in that inexplicable and overwhelming emotion, he lived peacefully to the end.

Until in "Dragon Slayer Boy", a quirky boy gave him his room, allowing him to safely pass through the dark night when monsters raged, and even gave him his own scales, promising to meet again.

Chan Sheng repeated again, "I will survive."

"..." The middle-aged man stared at him, his pupils trembling, unable to describe the turmoil in his heart.

Having witnessed the boy's hopeless state, I realized how shocking and precious such a change was.

They had just survived an attack and were resting in a barrier.

The sky was overcast and devoid of sunlight. Smoke billowed everywhere, and a fierce wind carrying the smell of burning and blood swept across the ruined fortress. Faint whispers of pain could be heard in the air, but they quickly vanished without a trace.

This oppressive and quiet atmosphere brings not only fear, but also loneliness, as if the chill seeps into the skin everywhere, and there is nothing around to warm oneself.

The reason why the uncle was so concerned about Chan Sheng's life and death was simply because his leg injury prevented him from walking far, and he was at his wit's end and could not survive. On his deathbed, he longed for a companion by his side.

To understand why they encountered such a situation, we must go back to the fact that the system and the Black Tower Kingdom simultaneously issued two completely different missions.

The lord of this level has gone mad for some reason, and any player who refuses to join the rebel army will be fiercely hunted down.

Under the onslaught of bullets, some players succumbed and chose to compromise and defect, while most players realized something was wrong with the system and fought back to the very end.

The man knew that even now, there were more than two of them fighting.

Even after this wave of attacks ended, the noise of people could still be heard not far away.

This scene was truly amazing. Men, women, young and old, from all continents were present. Before the battle began, there had been no communication between them, and they didn't even speak the same language. Most of them were strangers who didn't know each other until they joined the battle.

Yet they were able to protect each other until the very end.

When the uncle was exchanging information with someone, he learned that Xie Xubai had also appeared in this instance, and was even from the Black King's faction. No wonder Chan Sheng took on the mission to quell the rebellion.

"Isn't this great!" He suddenly laughed heartily, happy for the boy who had escaped tragedy. "You finally have a reason to live."

Chan Sheng looked at him, adhering to Xie Xubai's principle of give and take, and asked, "And what about you?"

The middle-aged man laughed nonchalantly and said, "Me? If I can live, I will; if I can't, so be it! I'm old now, and I've long since become indifferent to life and death."

Chan Sheng asked, "Why do you hate the system?"

The man's smile froze.

He didn't know that the fool had such keen observation skills. He touched his nose and remained silent for a long time: "There's no particular reason. Anyone who was living a good life would hate the instigator if they were dragged into this game and lived in fear."

Actually, in the early stages of this Infinite Game, the uncle enjoyed it for a while.

After all, he was all alone in reality. His parents had passed away one after another, he worked overtime until the early hours of the morning every day, had no time to find a wife, and his friends gradually drifted apart because he couldn't find the time to get together.

But in the game, as long as you have a skill, you can always find a team to go to the trial pool together.

Relationships between people can become tense and hostile due to crises, but they can also be brought together by a shared crisis. The uncle quickly found a group of like-minded companions.

Then someone dies, and their memory is wiped clean.

Faced with his and his companions' concerns, all they saw was vigilance and alienation.

Then he accidentally died, and his memory was wiped.

Faced with an unfamiliar place and a group of strangers carrying weapons, the uncle's first reaction, chilled to the bone, was: they are definitely human traffickers!

As soon as the question was uttered, a woman in the crowd couldn't help but tear up and burst into tears.

It was only later that the man learned that the woman was his girlfriend.

It's hard to imagine that an old man like him could find a girlfriend, but the diary she gave him clearly and in detail recorded how the two of them gradually fell in love during their tumultuous and dangerous adventures.

But the uncle didn't feel anything.

No matter how much his girlfriend cried, no matter how regretful and disappointed his former companions looked at him, no matter how passionate and tender the words in his diary were, he felt nothing.

Later, he repeatedly looked through the diary and saw how much the two of them used to love each other. Even if he didn't feel anything anymore, his conscience still bothered him, and he always felt sorry for the other person.

When he composed himself and mustered the courage to find the woman and take responsibility, he learned that she had recently gone down into the trial pool and unfortunately died.

It's not surprising, because in today's world, death is so commonplace.

In an instant, it felt as if an invisible dagger had pierced my heart, causing excruciating pain.

The man's vision went black, but he ran off to find someone without thinking.

The artificial sun shone down, blinding and devoid of warmth. Players thronged the streets, their expressions indifferent, their steps hurried.

After searching for a long time, he finally caught a glimpse of the person's back in the distance, and he shouted excitedly.

But the man turned around blankly at the sound, his face seemingly familiar, yet he cast a strange and wary glance at him.

...

Recalling the past makes my heart tremble with pain.

The middle-aged man had quit smoking a long time ago, but now he wanted one more. After a long while, he slowly exhaled: "...No matter what the system is, it's not its place to manage this world. It has no right to erase anyone's memories."

Dust billowed in the distance, shouts filled the air, and a new offensive was about to erupt.

The surviving players all felt the terrifying pressure from the demigod-level power.

On the other side, a vast army of thousands of soldiers and horses swept across the sky and scorched the sun.

Our troops are wounded and exhausted.

But that's what everyone was thinking.

—This will be the last wave of attacks.

Within the dilapidated walls, figures gritted their teeth and stood up. Each figure, viewed from above, was a tiny dot, and then countless dots connected to form a line, resembling a city wall hastily erected before a flood.

Chan Sheng and the uncle helped each other to their feet, and amidst the clamor, they gripped their weapons without hesitation.

A chilling golden light suddenly appeared, following the echoes of countless wills, like an eagle soaring through the sky, leaping amidst the smoke and fire of war.