Chapter 138 The clown is actually me? (Additional chapter for monthly tickets)

Old Father Abraham was enjoying the pleasure of a cat playing with a mouse.

There's no way, he really has been suppressing it for too long.

He clearly knew a lot of things, and he was the one who was secretly manipulating everything. Everyone was just a pitiful pawn in his hands. What a great sense of accomplishment this was? Whenever Abraham thought of everything he had secretly planned, he trembled with excitement.

He really wanted to share this excitement and joy with others... But he couldn't let others know about his deeds, because he always felt that this joy was imperfect and missing something.

However, before the moment of final victory comes, no matter how much he desires in his heart, he can only suppress it and endure it with all his might. Every day of endurance makes this impulse stronger.

And now, this moment has finally arrived.

He could finally announce to everyone what he had done in secret, and finally enjoy the shocked, terrified, and even desperate looks from others.

Scream, wail, howl, despair.

Abraham stretched out his arms wide, hoping to hear the most beautiful music.

But the imagined cheers did not sound.

Puff! He heard a mixture of disdain and mocking laughter.

This voice instantly made Abraham's face gloomy, and his rare good mood was completely destroyed in an instant.

The gloomy eyes looked in the direction of Ron. The voice came from Ron's mouth. Among all the disobedients, he was the biggest and most disgusting one.

He had clearly received the gift of fate and had the ability to peek into fate, but he was not grateful for the gift of fate at all. Instead, he went against fate at every turn.

This guy is the most abominable.

"What are you laughing at?" Abraham frowned.

Ron took a deep breath and managed to control his laughter: "Sorry, although I have received professional training and usually don't laugh, I really can't help it this time."

"You said we are clowns..."

"And what about you?"

Abraham raised his eyebrows: "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you think you are the one manipulating everything in secret, but who can guarantee that you are just a clown being manipulated? The difference is that we know what we are doing and why we do it, but you are even more pathetic. You don't even know why you do these things!"

The expression on Abraham's face became more and more strange. He couldn't even understand what Ron said. He didn't understand what Ron wanted to express.

"Who are you?" Ron laughed and asked again.

Abraham straightened his chest and said, "I am Patrick Andre, I am a saint, I am the guardian of destiny..."

Ron interrupted Abraham rudely: "You are a piece of shit..."

The propaganda speech was forcibly interrupted, and Abraham's face instantly turned red. He glared at Ron. This guy was really rude.

So, the moment he entered the Church of the Goddess of Dawn, he hated this guy very much.

Not far away, Gerald, Lydia and others obviously changed their expressions.

Partridge?

"Do you think you are Partridge?" Ron completely ignored Abraham's angry eyes, and the disdain on his face became even stronger: "Then do you know why Partridge changed his last name from Abraham to Andre?"

Ron asked this casually.

It would be best if I could get an answer from Abraham, but it doesn't matter if I don't.

But what Ron didn't expect was that the expression on Abraham's face suddenly froze. He only knew that his name recorded in history books was Patrick Andre, and Abraham was just his original surname and also his pseudonym.

He took this for granted and did not question the situation.

It was not until Ron asked this question that Abraham was suddenly stunned. Yes, why? What happened that made him change his name from Patrich Abraham to Patrich Andre?

Why is there such a small difference? Why is there no memory in his heart? He suddenly found that in his mind, those ancient memories were like a thick history book, which recorded what happened on a certain day of a certain month of a certain year and what he did, but why these things happened and why he did this, he had no impression at all.

His throat moved subconsciously and he swallowed a mouthful of saliva. His brain was buzzing and he felt a tingling feeling of fear in his spine.

What horrified Abraham the most was that in the past hundred years, he had never had any doubt about this situation... It was as if some force was restricting him from thinking in this direction... No, that's not the case. In fact, he should have had doubts about this strange memory. When Ron raised this question, he had a very strong sense of familiarity. Obviously, this question should have appeared in his mind more than once.

However, for some reason, he did not think too deeply about this issue, which made him subconsciously avoid it.

It was precisely because Abraham had once had doubts in this regard that Ron's words were more likely to stimulate him.

Doubts cannot be completely eradicated, buried, or avoided without answers. This will only turn doubts into compressed springs. When the suppressing force disappears, they will bounce to an unprecedented height... Ron's questions happened to push the pressure away.

Just like now, Abraham's consciousness was instantly confused, all kinds of thoughts kept growing in his mind, and he had many questions that he wanted to know the answers to.

He wanted to know why he hated nuns so much? Why were there so many people like him in Larnaca?

Why did he hate Archibald so much? Seeing Abraham's appearance, Ron's expression became more and more weird. Although his body had suffered a very strong impact, coupled with the overdraft caused by Hercules' protection, he could not recover in a short time, but Ron still struggled to stand up from the ground.

He gasped for breath, then looked at Abraham again: "How much of the ancient writing invented by Partridge do you know?"

"How many of the twenty-six Chinese pinyin letters do you know?"

Abraham's eyes widened subconsciously, and he felt an inexplicable fear: "Hanyu Pinyin? What is that?"

The smile on Ron's face became more mocking. "Why, you don't even know this? At the beginning, Partridge obtained ancient characters and Chinese Pinyin from Archibald. These two characters have never appeared on the Dusk Continent... Even I know Chinese Pinyin, and you claim to be Partridge, but you don't know it?"

"Don't you know that all the notes left by Partridge were written in Chinese pinyin?"

Everyone around was completely stunned.

One after another, extremely secret information came out of Ron's mouth, constantly challenging their endurance limit.

Not to mention others, even Virgil, who already knew some of the situation, felt creepy.

Father Abraham, the kind-looking and most senior priest in Morol Cathedral, was actually the mastermind behind all the disasters? Father Abraham was actually a saint who had died thousands of years ago? He was even prepared to destroy the entire Larnaca just to follow the trajectory of fate? And now, Ron directly exposed that the ancient characters invented by Saint Partridge were actually invented by Archibald, the blasphemer? He even invented two sets of characters?

Crazy, this world has gone completely crazy.

There is too much information for people to take in.

In the whole scene, Charlene might be the only one who is so heartless.

To be honest, Charlene really has no interest in what happened a thousand years ago.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

Abraham's originally proud and excited face gradually turned pale. His happy attitude could no longer be maintained and disappeared completely. His eyes flickered and his lips trembled constantly: "No, this... this is impossible, you are talking nonsense, I..."

"nonsense?"

Ron suddenly sneered and interrupted Abraham's voice: "Aren't you surprised that there are so many old men like you in Larnaca alone?"

"Did you kill Earl John? Did you also kill the old man in the potion shop? Did you also kill those five old men in the hotel?"

Abraham's eyes suddenly shrank and his throat became a little dry.

"I think you should have a very reasonable explanation in your mind. Let me guess... For example, those old men are not actually human beings, or in other words, not complete people. They are just clones created by you using your own soul or consciousness?"

"When you kill and absorb these clones, your strength will become stronger and your body will become younger, right?"

Abraham's body began to tremble. It was obvious that what Ron said hit the nail on the head.

"Then how do you know if the other old men have the same idea in their minds? Perhaps, in their minds, you are the clone?"

"Of course, it's possible... I mean, it's possible that all of you are clones... No, you're not even clones. You're just puppets created by a certain existence. They're so lifelike that they're almost indistinguishable from real people?"

"Don't you understand yet... You think you are Partridge, but you are not even a human being. You are just a puppet played in the palm of Partridge's hand."

“Shut up!” Abraham was suddenly furious. He was like a mad lion, roaring wildly and manically: “Don’t try to lie to me... I’m Partridge, but because it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten some things…”

Ron laughed again: "Okay, I'll assume you just forgot... But, don't you find it strange? You are a saint, a being that even the Dragon King had to treat with courtesy. But now, you have absorbed sixty or seventy clones. How much of your strength have you recovered?"

"You should have absorbed all of Larnaca's clones long ago. Do you have the strength to recover as a sage? Your current strength is just a joke."

He took out a plastic-sealed diary from the storage ring and threw it to Abraham: "This is Partridge's diary. Can you tell me what's written in it?"

Patridge subconsciously took the diary and looked at the distorted words on it. His pupils trembled violently.

"Every memory you have, every knowledge you have, everything you want to do, is not from your heart, but is just a program set for you by Partridge."

"You are the most pathetic clown."

clown?

The clown is actually me? Haha ...

Abraham suddenly laughed like a lunatic, and he crossed his hands and tore Partridge's notes into pieces.

He tried very hard to regain his confidence, but it was not so easy to pick up his shattered faith.

He wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, but his distorted face had already revealed the fear in his heart. He stepped forward and walked towards Ron:

"call……"

"You are such a sinister and cunning fellow. I was almost fooled by you... I am Partridge. Yes, I am the sage. I am the guardian of destiny."

"I can't be fooled by your words. It's better to kill you first..."

With every step Abraham took closer, the aura on his body continued to expand. Although Ron spoke very badly of Father Abraham, he was still an existence that was no less powerful than the Tree of the Young God.

It was so difficult to defeat the Young God Tree just now. Now everyone is seriously injured and the magic power lost in their bodies has not been restored in time.

A seriously injured Ron could never be his opponent.

Some people struggled to stand up and wanted to help.

But Ron and Virgil were the only ones who remained indifferent, as if they did not take Father Abraham seriously at all.

A glass bottle appeared silently in Ron's hand.

Scattered soul!

Chapter 4 is here, there will be another chapter later

(End of this chapter)