The Witch’s mood sank like the Titanic, sinking, sinking...
Even a single God of North Wind is difficult to deal with. That woman can summon missiles, cannons, heavy machine guns, and autocannons out of thin air,
as well as so near-future fearso personal weapons.
Dealing with her is bound to cause significant commotion, attracting those ubiquitous grotesque creations.
As for Baraleika, she is the strongest in the entire Gru Super Psychology Departnt.
During the Sky Fighting Arena and Realms Corridor, the syndicate mbers shared their experiences with various opponents, and the Witch rembers Tai Hao’s evaluation of Baraleika.
"That woman? Uh, she’s quite formidable. Although I managed to beat her one-on-one, neither of us fought seriously. Her real strength certainly isn’t limited to the eighteenth rank. If any of you encounter her alone—except if in a state of losing control—it’s better to run away or call for help from others."
As the chief disciple of the syndicate, Tai Hao rarely gives outsiders such high praise, and his words left a deep impression on the Witch and the others.
Click.
The sound of a magazine being loaded ca from behind.
Baraleika’s eyes were half-closed with a lack of energy, a cigarette hanging from her lips, as she held a Stechkin APS Automatic Pistol, its muzzle pointed at the Witch’s back.
Although under Spiritual Sense detection, that automatic pistol seed ordinary, with no extraordinary force waves, and hadn’t triggered warnings from any protective gear,
the Witch felt alard, her hair standing on end, a sense of being watched by a predatory carnivorous animal arose spontaneously.
Death.
Being shot by that gun would an death.
"..."
The Witch froze in place, the pendant on her wrist emitting a faint glow, gradually dimming.
She slowly raised her hands, indicating she had no hostile intent, while looking at the distant and elevated God of North Wind, she said expressionlessly: "I have an automatic trigger alarm device on .
If I face a mortal threat and lose my freedom, independence, and consciousness, I’ll be forcibly awakened instantly, letting surrender and exit the ga automatically.
So, whatever you intend to do, you cannot threaten . I might just quit directly."
"So why not just quit then?"
Baraleika grinned, casually releasing the APS—the black automatic pistol didn’t fall to the ground but hovered in the air, its muzzle still aiming at the Witch, "Don’t worry, if we wanted to kill you, we would have done it already."
The Witch’s face darkened, her voice tough yet weak, "Then what do you want?"
Baraleika exchanged a look with the distant God of North Wind, who then retracted her futuristic-style near-future sniper and gently landed on the stone steps, shining a flashlight onto the Witch’s belt.
23:29:33
The countdown on the belts of the three was identical.
"Exactly the sa..."
Baraleika murmured, taking a drag of her cigarette, the glow of the cigarette butt pulsing with each breath, flickering unpredictably.
The Witch instinctively asked, "What?"
"Ti."
Baraleika gestured to their belts casually, "Indeed, these things protect players from creatures in the script world, it’s a life-saving tool while also a pace-setter propelling players to kill each other in the battle ga."
Perhaps noticing the expression on the Witch’s face, Baraleika slowly continued in a lazy voice full of magnetism, "When I say script world creatures, I’m not talking about those human-headed donkey horses; I an stronger things.
Compared to those things, the human-headed donkey horses are rely weak ant swarms without intelligence..."
Baraleika chuckled, looking down at the Witch, whose expression was clouded, as she remarked casually, "You must be trying to contact other mbers of the syndicate right now?
Sorry, these floors of the building absorb most forms of stray energy,
short-range communication is okay,
but long-distance communication cannot connect at all.
We’ve tested it.
So don’t expect your companions to co to your rescue.
Additionally...."
Baraleika looked at the Witch, who was a head shorter than her, and smiled, "You don’t need to worry about or my teammates stealing the crystal powder from your belt for now."
The Witch said expressionlessly, "What do you an?
According to your statents, isn’t the powder in the belt ant to protect players from certain monsters?
Everybody only gets powder that lasts 24 hours, forcing player groups to kill each other from the start, plundering powder to buy ti for themselves.
Or are you planning to hold hostage? Use to force other mbers of the syndicate to surrender, hand over powder?
Then you might be disappointed.
In this segnt, players can freely choose to surrender and exit, and others will not surrender just for ..."
"You guessed wrong."
Baraleika shook her head and gestured toward the wall with large numbers "37", "We are on the thirty-seventh floor, and we escaped from a pipeline on the thirty-ninth floor.
Which ans this building is at least forty floors high, very spacious, with communication difficulties.
Under these circumstances, given how dispersed the players are, there’s no way they can find other players quickly, to gain powder for maintaining identity verification radiation devices.
players, each lasting 24 hours, living 168 hours here, with only 50 remaining...
Simple mathematics shows that, even if all powder is pooled together, it’s not enough for 50 people to survive 168 hours.
If we consider reverse logic, trying to guess the motives of the battle ga, we can arrive at several possibilities..."
The Witch’s mind raced and she quickly responded, "First, the powder isn’t enough; players, even if they kill each other, are sure to use up all the powder they find within four to five days, and thus face attacks.
At that ti, most of the surviving players will be hunted down.
Second, the powder is insufficient, but players can occasionally put in powder to gain protection. Without powder refills, they must hide from danger.
Third, besides mutual slaughter, players can also gain a small amount of powder from the script world in other ways to survive for seven days..."
"Correct, you are indeed smart."
Baraleika nodded, "The first and second possibilities are unlikely; if you’ve seen the so-called [Security Guards] on the 39th floor slaughtering anomalous constructs,
you’d know it’s extrely difficult for even the top 50 players to survive within the security guards’ encirclent.
Thus, the third possibility is most likely.
So places on this map hide the crystal powder that maintains devices, along with information that lets us understand the background setting of the map world.
So long as we find supplies, we have no need to eliminate you or obtain the powder you have—you are a great helper in battle and a syndicate hostage.
In any case, both losing control and Tai Hao will not turn a blind eye to your death; they might even form an alliance with us to confront the larger population of the European Heavy Industry Group—
The latter must have guessed what I’m thinking, and has already begun to organize groups, searching for certain instrunts and devices over various floors.
You still have value to us."
"Heh."
With a smirk on her lips, just as she was about to make a sarcastic remark, the Witch heard a distant explosion.
Boom!!!
A sword of flas, hundreds of ters long, pierced the tal roof of the sky,
casting brilliant light into the obscured 37th floor that had been dim for who knows how long.
Whoosh.
After one strike, the burning sword slowly disappeared, molten fiery red steel dripping like a crimson waterfall.
Through the cracks in the broken sky, one could see the dark and murky space above the roof.
Michael’s Sword of Flas...
The Witch took a deep breath; even with her keen eyesight, she hadn’t recognized the precise length of the fla sword, nor could she guess which floor Michael was on,
or what she faced, to unleash such a blow.
"No matter how many tis you see it, it’s still spectacular..."
Baraleika sighed as she watched the rapidly cooling red-hot steel drip, then gestured for the Witch and God of North Wind to follow her, away from the direction of the Sword of Flas.
"Hmm?"
The Witch glanced at the sky crack behind her, shifting her attention from the hovering pistol to Baraleika, asking: "Aren’t you looking for alliances? Go find Michael!"
"A Divine Envoy walking among mortals does not care about the opinions of mortals."
Baraleika said coolly, "How could a Divine Envoy form alliances with mortals?"
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