Chapter 227
When this question was brought up, even the last trace of a smile vanished from Hill's face, replaced by stubborn confusion.
In fact, "ruthless and merciless" is an exaggeration. The trouble he caused, and the people who had to take responsibility because of him, wished they could hang him or throw him into the sea to feed the sharks.
However, White's approach is very simple: he takes action rather than wastes time talking.
For a long time, Hill suspected that White might have some special hobby, but the problem was that he didn't.
He had brought up these things indirectly, and White either appeared calm and respectful of others' hobbies, or looked disgusted and angry after learning that someone had been forced to be insulted.
White remained silent for a long time before finally looking at him with a complicated expression: "I thought you were only willing to accept this kind of training."
Hill: "???"
A moment of deathly silence fell between the two.
Looking at Hill with disbelief in his eyes, White rubbed his throbbing brows and said, "Have you forgotten? On the first day of formal training, you beat up all the instructors and loudly proclaimed, 'None of you dare to hurt me, so what right do you have to discipline me?'"
White couldn't help but question the meaning of life.
Could it be that he misunderstood?
The key point is that after he first beat up Hill because he didn't like him, the guy suddenly became very obedient and happily followed him around like a little shadow.
She brought up this topic again and again in front of him, trying to cover it up, clearly enjoying the experience.
Although Xie Xubai didn't understand, considering the responsibility he bore and the efficiency of disciplining Hill in this way, he gritted his teeth and chose to respect it.
Given the privacy involved, he couldn't possibly read minds to distinguish truth from falsehood.
"As for not letting others manage you, one reason is that we are afraid that the higher-ups will do something to you, since your abilities are special and you can be easily exploited."
White said coldly, "Secondly, you are completely insubordinate. Do you know how many complaints I receive every day? Do you think I would allow you to contact other superiors?"
He even suspected that this guy was acting like a jerk from time to time, deliberately asking for a beating.
Hill was completely stunned.
But upon closer reflection, it seems... it was really because White beat him up that he genuinely decided to follow him.
What's the reason?
Does he enjoy being beaten up?
Hill instinctively let out a sneer. How could that be?
He's vindictive and petty; besides White, who would dare lay a finger on him?
Hill suddenly paused.
...Yes, besides White, who would dare to hurt him?
Just like his once great, upright, and all-powerful father, when he saw him using dodder to devour the enemy's corpses, didn't he also stammer and look fearful, unable to say anything harsh?
Hill was very mischievous as a child. He would climb on the roof and tear off the tiles. He would take apart the television and clock out of curiosity and would put caterpillars in girls' drawers.
His father, however, was a traditional country gentleman who scoffed at the idea of love in education.
Hill had to admit that perhaps a little bit of harshness would make him remember better.
Whenever he cried his heart out, his father would take him fishing by the river or picking grapes in the vineyard.
The cool river water can relieve the pain of a swollen bottom, and the juice of grapes can sweeten your heart.
He could take the fish his father caught to the neighbor's house and ask for a sweet and delicious cheesecake.
Or bring a bowl of frozen grapes to school to cheer up a girl who's been teased.
Hill used to love being held in his father's arms and listening to his father tell him about the principles of life.
His deep voice, weathered by time, seemed to sing the praises of the years.
He listened with longing and hope, as if he were a hero recounting the tale of a prince slaying a dragon, and carefully memorized those words.
Be kind to others, respect women, and do not fear those in power...
What happened next?
Once he possessed immense power, all dissenting voices automatically disappeared.
Many people chattered around him, like devils tempting angels to fall.
"You are so powerful, you can do whatever you want."
"This world is one where the strong rule."
"Morality? Law? They are nothing more than the weak trying to establish order to restrain the strong in order to avoid exposing their inferiority."
"Justice and kindness? No, no, no. People only act justly when it is in their own interest. If you don't believe me, you can try it."
Hill remained silent for a long time.
He didn't speak, and no one else dared to utter a sound.
People around him both feared and admired him.
Those countless fawning and obsequious gazes turned into twisted demonic claws, trying to drag him into hell.
Hill suddenly remembered his father.
A father who was upright and dignified, a father who would loudly denounce criminals when he saw them on the news.
Yet she cast him the same obsequious and submissive gaze as everyone else, speaking in a timid and hesitant voice.
Like a clown taking off his mask.
His towering image crumbled, along with Hill's perception of the world.
He heard himself laugh and say, "Okay."
On that very day, during the formal training session, he thoroughly beat up all the instructors.
No one said much; the instructors couldn't even beat the trainees, which meant they were incompetent.
Even though Hill's methods were excessive and the scene was tragic, no one wanted to mess with him after seeing his bizarre and powerful parasitic ability.
The Apostle Guild would certainly not allow such a challenge to the organization's authority to spread, so they sent even more powerful monitors, including Pei Yuheng.
Faced with superiors he couldn't defeat, Hill also learned to lie low.
But he was unconvinced and sneered and despised.
He knew that sooner or later he would be more powerful than those people, and at that time, it would just be another exchange of status and power.
The weak can't utter a sound in front of the strong; that's the true nature of the world.
What nonsense are you spouting?
Hill was suddenly jolted awake by a cold sneer.
He looked up and saw the young white man staring at him as if he were dirt: "What do you think the Apostle Guild was founded for, and why are we here?"
"If everyone were like you, bullying the weak and fearing the strong, humanity would have ceased to exist the moment the Infinite Game began!"
In a sparring match not long after, Xie Xubai, whose strength was far inferior to his, endured the pain of being parasitized until Xie Xubai revealed a weakness. He then put his words into practice and beat Xie Xubai to the ground.
Those punches, one after another, jolted Hill awake from his morbid and rotten views, forcefully pulling him back from the precarious edge of the swamp.
“So…” Hill blinked, “if I said I don’t like getting beaten up, would you try a different approach?”
White watched him quietly, then suddenly raised her hand.
Hill reflexively clutched his head.
But no fist fell; instead, White's warm, thin hand gently rubbed his head: "Hill, you no longer need that kind of restraint."
He said sincerely, "I encountered a group of robbers on the road who were parasitized by the blasphemous vine. I thought you were causing trouble again, but it seems that you have kept up with the principles you set for yourself."
“That’s good,” White said. “I misunderstood you, I’m sorry.”
The dodder's ability to suck blood and flesh is both a skill characteristic and an attack method. Just as White believes that the existence of vampires is reasonable, he would not force Hill to do good deeds during extraordinary times.
In a death game where reincarnation is possible, it's difficult to define justice and injustice using life and death as a single concept.
White then strictly ordered Hill not to harm innocent people and to control the amount of flesh and blood he consumed.
Avoid accumulating mental stress, as it can easily lead to alienation and rage.
Hill had sworn to White that he would only kill those who deserved to die and those who were enemies of humanity.
He did it.
The robbers and traitors are those who deserve to die, while the citizens of the game kingdom and the gatekeeper boss are the enemies.
It is neither just nor selfless, nor can it be called kind and virtuous.
It was simply that we held onto our principles in a chaotic and distorted world, nothing more.
When Hill met White's eyes, her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away.
"Then the second question..."
Hill suddenly felt a dryness in his throat. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, repeating this several times, before finally managing to ask with difficulty, "What exactly happened the day you devoured the Eleventh Apostle's divine core? Why did the game's rules change? Why did you suddenly disappear?"
He struggled to utter the question that had been nagging at him for so long, tormenting him and keeping him awake all night: "Why...why didn't it hurt at all when you ate my divine core?"
That is the divine core, connected to the soul.
Hill expected to experience unbearable pain, but he felt no pain at all.
He thought of some reasons that terrified him, such as White's ability to transfer pain... He pondered these thoughts day and night, and they became an obsession with getting an answer.
Boom—!
A deafening thunderclap seemed to resound in Xie Xubai's mind, suddenly pulling him into the deep pool of memories, as if a surging wave had engulfed his mouth and nose, leaving him feeling dizzy and suffocated.
...
The surroundings were chaotic and noisy, with the piercing sound of alarms echoing throughout the base.
Someone yelled, "White has gone mad! He killed the Second Apostle! Run, everyone run! Go to the Overseer's Council!!"
"What is he doing? Is he trying to devour the Second Apostle's divine core?"
"My God—"
The dreamer was completely bewildered.
What are they saying?
Did White kill the Second Apostle?
How is that possible?
They had finally managed to condense their divine cores, transcending the realm of gods, and were on the verge of having the ability to fight the Outer Gods to the death in the final instance and turn the tide.
How could White, who values human victory more than his own life, possibly kill the Second Angel at this time?
But when the dreamer looked up, he saw blood-stained white feathers fluttering down from the clouds, like falling snow.
This is the territory of the Apostles' Guild. The original leaders spent a lot of points to expand it by tens of thousands of miles, building mountains, rivers and plains according to the original appearance of the earth.
Every tree and every grain of rice was planted by their own hands; it was their longed-for home.
In the midst of that fierce battle, the river overflowed, the mountains crumbled, and the artificial sun, like a burning fireball, fell from the sky, crashing into the farmland and igniting a raging fire.
All the meticulous arrangements were reduced to ashes in the fire.
The sky was filled with pitch-black spatial rifts and purple lightning, resembling a scene from the apocalypse.
The expressions of the two combatants were not clearly visible in the backlight, but one could vaguely see that half of the Second Apostle's wing had been broken off.
White's hand ruthlessly pierced through the Second Apostle's chest, slowly pulling out a luminous divine core and placing it into his mouth.
Golden blood rained down, and the Second Apostle's shrill screams echoed throughout the heavens and earth.
The crowd scattered in panic, screams and roars echoing everywhere.
The dreamer's hands and feet were ice-cold, as if he had fallen into an ice cave in the dead of winter, feeling bewildered and angry.
The next second, the white Satan who caused the tragedy disappeared from the sky and appeared in front of him in the blink of an eye.
sorry……
The man whispered in his ear.
Listen closely and you can feel the man's voice trembling uncontrollably at the end, but his actions are as resolute and ruthless as peeling away the second apostle's divine core, as he slowly extends his blood-stained hand into the man's chest.
The dreamer suddenly opened his eyes, sat up, and gasped for breath, his forehead covered in sweat.
"Fifth brother!"
Someone was calling him.
He paused, his fierce eyes following the movement, the Roman numeral "six" emblem on his white robe gleaming in the sunlight.
The Sixth Apostle said, "The Third Brother sent word that White has entered the Black Tower. Is there anything you would like to say to him? She can deliver it for us."
The Fifth Apostle shook his head and closed his eyes.
After a long silence, he said in a hoarse voice, "I just want him to experience what it's like to have his divine core ripped out."
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