Fu Songcheng watched the spy’s self-satisfied manner and silently twitched the corner of his mouth.
Greed and conceit were the easiest tools to exploit.
He only needed to give a gentle push, and these people would run into the tracks he’d set.
Under the spy’s precise control, the mechanical insect became a tiny black dot in the night, silently crossing most of the village and finally landing on the window lattice of the broken thatched hut where Lu Xiao was.
The spy impatiently enlarged the holographic screen.
Fu Songcheng leaned in to look as well.
However, the scene displayed on the screen greatly disappointed Fu Songcheng.
There were no sinister objects in the room as he’d speculated.
The place was messy—very messy.
A chair missing a leg, a water basin lying on the floor, dry grass scattered everywhere…
And Lu Xiao herself was facing away from the window, her whole body almost sprawled over that rickety, broken wooden table.
She was writing.
The spy furrowed his brow tightly, maneuvering the insect to fine-tune its angle through the window crack, trying to see exactly what Lu Xiao was doing.
In her hand, Lu Xiao held only the most ordinary piece of charcoal. Spread before her was a stack of yellowed old letter paper.
Rustle, rustle, rustle…
The extremely faint sound of charcoal scraping paper came back through the insect’s receiver.
The spy was frantic with impatience. He tried to magnify the focus, to capture the contents on the letter paper.
But the angle was truly terrible, and Lu Xiao’s body blocked most of the light—he could only vaguely make out scattered, sparse writing on the paper.
“Damn it, she’s blocking it!”
The spy cursed under his breath, not daring to bring the insect too close.
Fu Songcheng stood behind the spy, also watching the screen. Lu Xiao had started setting up by the water the moment she entered the instance, trying to scatter the soul of him, the Evil God—he’d deduced there’d be important clues in her room.
Unfortunately, the spy’s insect couldn’t probe it either.
And he estimated the time was about right.
He still had to go back and check on his own “worry-inducing” believer.
Just as Fu Songcheng’s soul body transformed into yin wind, rushing back—on the other side, the battlefield had already reached an unquestionable end.
Bang!
The village chief player’s body, like a kite with its string cut, was slammed viciously into the wall once more.
This time, the wall could no longer withstand such massive destructive force and collapsed with a roar, half-burying him in rubble and dust.
“Cough… blargh!”
The village chief vomited a large mouthful of blood.
His prized metalized arms were now covered in spiderweb-like cracks.
The originally metallic skin had gone dull and lusterless, some places even sunken in, revealing the bloody, mangled bone beneath.
Too painful.
His internal organs felt as if they’d been churned through a meat grinder.
“Stop… stop…”
The village chief’s lips writhed with difficulty, his voice hoarse as a broken bellows.
He desperately tried to raise his hand to reach the recovery potions in his virtual backpack.
Yet his fingers had barely bent when a black shadow descended like the Grim Reaper’s scythe.
Yu Huaiting gave him no chance to catch his breath.
“Told you—I don’t like people teaching me how to do things.” Yu Huaiting’s voice was cheerful. His wrist turned, the greatsword’s edge already aimed at the village chief’s neck.
Since you dared to show a health bar, be ready for it to be emptied.
“You madman…” The village chief’s eyes flew wide, his pupils full of terror and unwillingness. He howled in despair, trying to make a final struggle with words.
“Thanks~”
Yu Huaiting gripped the hilt with both hands and swung the greatsword down without hesitation.
The village chief had just breathed his last when Fu Songcheng returned.
“…”
Fu Songcheng paused in midair.
Just now, to plant the mental suggestion on the spy and then follow the spy to peek at Lu Xiao’s situation, he had indeed wasted a bit of time.
Whatever—it’s just a player dying.
If Yu Huaiting wanted to kill, then let him kill.
The village chief player’s wide-open eyes still held the terror and disbelief of his final moment.
A high-level player—who hadn’t even had time to reveal his trump card—had been physically sent off by Yu Huaiting just like that.
Yu Huaiting slowly straightened up and casually shook the blood off his greatsword. He didn’t even glance at the corpse on the floor, just panted lightly, settling the surging adrenaline in his body.
Done and dusted. Feeling great.
Meanwhile, Fu Songcheng, floating in midair, looked at the headless corpse on the ground and suddenly had a bold idea.
As the “Evil God,” he’d so far tried mental contamination and possessing objects.
Then… what about dead bodies?
An Evil God should know some corpse-manipulating tricks, shouldn’t he?
This high-level player’s corpse—though its head was gone, its physical constitution was still top-tier. If he could control it and turn it into a puppet, it would be absolutely useful for scouting or as a meat shield.
Most importantly, Fu Songcheng was very curious just how far his divine authority in this instance could go.
Thinking it, doing it.
Fu Songcheng focused his attention and slowly raised both hands.
As his thought turned, a thick, ominous black-purple mist began pouring endlessly from his transparent soul body.
The mist was cold, viscous, and seemed to carry a kind of life force, rapidly spreading toward the headless corpse on the ground.
Soon, the black-purple mist completely enveloped the village chief’s corpse.
Fu Songcheng closed his eyes, trying to seep his mental power through the mist into the corpse.
“Move…” he recited inwardly.
Within the mist, the fingers of the already-rigid headless corpse suddenly twitched neurotically.
Immediately after, the black-purple mist wrapping the corpse’s surface began rolling rhythmically, as if the corpse were breathing.
Joy rose in Fu Songcheng’s heart.
He could feel his mental power gradually taking over control of this body—though still clumsy, it genuinely worked.
However, Fu Songcheng had forgotten Yu Huaiting was still beside him.
Yu Huaiting had been resting with his eyes closed when he suddenly felt the surrounding temperature plummet, an extremely cold, evil aura emanating from the corpse on the ground.
He snapped his eyes open, his pupils contracting instantly.
There, the village chief’s corpse—whose head he’d chopped off—was now wrapped in a strange black-purple mist, and was… trying to stand back up!
“Fuck!” Yu Huaiting cursed inwardly, every muscle in his body instantly tensing.
“Playing zombie on me?”
In his dictionary, for a monster that got back up after being killed once, there was only one solution—chop it into even smaller pieces!
Yu Huaiting let out an angry roar. The greatsword he’d just lowered was swung up again with lightning speed.
The greatsword carved a fierce half-moon black afterimage through the air, carrying even more violent kinetic energy than when he’d killed the man, and slashed down viciously.
Crack!
The massive force directly cut the corpse—just controlled by Fu Songcheng, not yet fully steady on its feet—cleanly in half at the waist!
Under the greatsword’s terrifying cleave, the black-purple mist was instantly torn to shreds by the fierce wind.
Fu Songcheng felt a faint stabbing pain in his mind—the backlash of his mental power attached to the corpse being severed.
This time, this body was thoroughly ruined.
Even if Fu Songcheng had heaven-reaching skills, he couldn’t stitch a pile of minced meat into a puppet.
Yu Huaiting held his sword-swinging posture, eyes sharply fixed on the corpse split in two on the ground, guarding against any further movement.
He waited a full half minute, confirmed the purple-black mist had completely dissipated and the corpse showed no further movement, and only then snorted coldly, hoisting the greatsword back onto his shoulder.
“Hmph. Songcheng-gege will definitely praise me for being cautious~”
And in midair, Fu Songcheng’s transparent soul body hovered stiffly.
He maintained his pose of both hands pressed down, casting the spell, his expression completely frozen.
Speechless.
Truly speechless.
He didn’t even have the desire to complain anymore. He closed his eyes and refused to look at Yu Huaiting.
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