Under Ming Po's gaze, the "Frankenstein" Title above Chang Ning's head gradually twisted, faded, and vanished.
When the existence known as "Frankenstein" dissipated, the entire world began to collapse and disintegrate.
The tremors escalated from faint vibrations to violent shaking, and the old-fashioned televisions began to rattle. The ones at the very top tumbled down, hitting the ground with a loud crash and exploding into a shower of glass shards.
Half of the red lights on the ceiling tore loose, swinging back and forth across the room like pendulums.
Watching his own Title slowly change from "Werewolf" to "Frankenstein," Ming Po looked thoughtfully at his right hand, closing his eyes to feel the desires welling up from the bottom of his heart.
It was completely different from the sensation of equipping "Werewolf."
He no longer possessed that intense urge to destroy, that restless agitation that refused to let him stay still. Instead, it was replaced by an incredibly arrogant sense of inflated ego, a flicker of lust, and an overwhelming need to prove himself... or rather, a desire to beco famous.
Normally, Ming Po was the type who hated trouble. Unless absolutely necessary, he would never strike up a conversation with strangers.
Socializing usually ant hassle. It required constantly worrying about how to avoid inconveniencing others, weighing whether to agree to favors, and calculating how to decline requests without ruining the relationship. The maintenance cost of friendship was simply too high.
But the current Ming Po? If he saw soone live-streaming on the street, he would very likely walk right up with a smile, say hello, and eagerly try to insert himself into the fra.
Switching between these two Titles felt like transforming from a cold-blooded serial killer into an extroverted influencer desperate for fa.
Overall, however, it was manageable.
These desires could absolutely be tad.
Moreover, for soone as inherently insecure as Chang Ning, the intense sense of self it provided was exactly what he needed to compensate for that weakness in his humanity. This need for validation was probably the source of that fanatical roleplaying high he experienced earlier while using the voice changer.
"Hey, are you still alive?"
Ming Po gave Chang Ning a light kick.
Chang Ning twitched. A fountain of fresh blood spurted from his slit throat once again... yet he still was not completely dead.
Even though his head had been pierced repeatedly and his neck nearly severed, a sliver of vitality remained.
Clearly, this creature could no longer be called human.
It was likely because Chang Ning was the master of this space, Ming Po guessed.
Until this space completely self-destructed, Chang Ning would retain a shred of consciousness.
If the guy was still alive, maybe he could borrow his finger.
The Werewolf Title's healing abilities obviously could not reattach severed limbs. But now, using his new power, Ming Po could replace his missing right pinky.
He could have gone back for his own finger, of course. But this space was on the verge of collapsing. To retrieve it, he would need to find another elevator keycard and ride all the way back up. With no idea when he might be kicked out of this space, finding a replacent nearby was the smarter move.
With that in mind, Ming Po squatted down and grabbed Chang Ning's slender, elegant left hand, rather than the stronger right hand.
Right at that mont, Chang Ning suddenly reversed his grip and grabbed Ming Po's hand.
Ming Po's eyes turned icy, and his left hand swiftly drew a knife.
His right hand was never his dominant hand anyway. That was exactly why he had used it instead of his stronger left hand when reaching through the wire sh for the key earlier.
Ming Po had deliberately attacked Chang Ning with his right hand repeatedly just to plant that false assumption in his mind.
In a high-speed battle, there was no ti to think. Everything relied on bodily instincts.
Therefore, as long as he trained the opponent to develop the wrong instincts, he could manipulate their actions as effortlessly as casting an illusion.
Just like training a dog.
"Take... take it..."
However, Chang Ning let out a hoarse rasp.
His slashed throat prevented him from shaking his head, and his one remaining eye stared imploringly at Ming Po.
Ming Po paused slightly, eting Chang Ning's gaze.
The dying man's eye had beco clear and filled with sorrow. Having lost the power of the Domain of Force, that intense, unshakeable confidence was completely gone.
"You can... have it..."
Chang Ning forced the words out, slowly opening his hand and pressing his pinky into Ming Po's palm. "Please... check on... for ..."
"Check on Ke'er for you, right?"
Ming Po interrupted him, sparing the dying man the agonizing effort of squeezing out words two syllables at a ti.
He felt no resistance to this request.
In fact, Ming Po had always thought the little girl was quite pitiful.
If she really was left an orphan now, giving her a helping hand wouldn't be a problem.
Besides, wealth in the Material Realm ant nothing to the current Chang Ning anyway. Other than burning so paper money for himself, what else could he do with it?
"Fine, give her address."
As Ming Po spoke, a crimson glow ignited in the depths of his pupils.
As the power activated, Ming Po felt his hands transform into sharp surgical scalpels. At the sa ti, a grid of lines appeared in his vision... as if analyzing how to perfectly butcher a person into pri cuts of beef.
Convenient for a hotpot.
Now, if he willed it, he could effortlessly amputate any specific limb from another person.
The corners of Chang Ning's mouth twitched upward, attempting to form a smile. Imdiately after, he intermittently choked out the address.
Despite having just been killed by Ming Po, he held no fear that Ming Po would harm Ke'er.
It was an indescribable, unspoken understanding.
"Whoa."
Ming Po marveled as he applied slight pressure with his left index finger.
He t only a faint resistance, like snapping a toothpick or breaking a Pocky stick with his fingers. He effortlessly detached Chang Ning's left pinky.
Taking the severed digit, he pressed it against the healed skin where his own right pinky used to be.
Instantly, the cross-section of contact flared with a crimson light.
It glowed like red-hot iron in a blacksmith's forge.
Following that, a searing pain shot through his hand—
It was an excruciating, bone-deep agony, yet Ming Po did not flinch. He rely focused intently on the cross-section of his right pinky.
There was a slight discoloration between the two parts of the finger, barely noticeable unless scrutinized closely. However, fine stitching marks were visible right at the joint where they connected...
'Looks like I need to wear a ring,' Ming Po thought.
Just then, a bizarre surge of mories flowed into his body.
Just like when he inhabited Gu Tao's body and instinctively understood how to use a compound bow without a teacher, this little finger harbored fragnted mories of parkour.
He watched 'himself' leap from a tall building, catching the edge of an adjacent skyscraper. With a powerful pull of his arms, he vaulted over the ledge with fluid grace.
The narrow gap he had just cleared hovered over a sheer drop of at least fifty ters. A fall from that height ant certain death.
"Oh, pulling Jackie Chan stunts now!"
Ming Po's eyes lit up.
He had naturally never tried anything like this before, but now he felt absolute mastery over the skill.
This was quite interesting. It felt incredibly thrilling!
But concurrently, a stark realization surfaced in Ming Po's mind: his soul wasn't strong enough yet. His body could only handle the burden of one more extra appendage. Any more, and he risked mutating just like Chang Ning.
Only one more capacity...
It seed that until he acquired an ability to regenerate severed limbs, there was no chance of detaching this right pinky. That being the case, if he took this Title into the ga, he could only plunder one additional body part at most.
Since that was how it worked...
Ming Po lowered his head and stared at Chang Ning's face.
Having finished relaying Ke'er's address, Chang Ning had closed his eyes, quietly awaiting his death...
Right at that mont, fissures finally began to tear through the room.
The floorboard splintered and caved in, leaving one of Chang Ning's legs dangling into the void.
Wasting no more ti, Ming Po stepped over to him.
As the crimson glow ignited in his pupils, that scanner-like ability activated once again!
"I'll be borrowing your face!"
His newly whole right hand clamped down onto Chang Ning's face.
Then, he forcefully ripped it off!
Beneath that handso facade lay an incredibly ordinary visage. Whether it was the eyes, the facial structure, or the condition of the skin, it was the definition of an average bystander... perhaps even worse than average.
"So this is your real face."
Ming Po sighed. "Now, we have truly t."
With that, Ming Po pressed the stolen face directly against his own.
A burning agony seared his face, and fine stitching marks manifested along his hairline and jawline. In the next breath, a torrent of knowledge regarding acting, vocal music, and the art of smiling flooded his mind.
Ming Po mimicked the face's original owner, forming an incredibly warm and approachable smile. "It's done, Chang Ning...
"Farewell. Never participate in the Ga of Deception again."
As Ming Po's words fell, the world shattered completely.
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