mories of my life before transmigration suddenly flooded into my mind.
I was reading in the dormitory when my brothers called to drink.
I didn’t really want to go, but a certain bad influence claid that drinking could prevent brain clots, clear the blockages in the brain, and enlighten my spirit, allowing my long-dormant talent for love to shine again. By rereading the classic secret books I had collected for years, I would surely transform into a master of love and a tender warm man, warming her with a single sentence all day long, effortlessly winning the heart of my dream goddess, marrying a rich and beautiful woman, and reaching the peak of my life.
Rod couldn’t resist the warm invitation of his bad influence and his own desires, and although he wasn’t much of a drinker, he still went.
It seed to actually work, as after drinking and finishing books like "Sea King’s True Scripture" and "Scumbag’s Divine Skill," Rod felt that he had grasped the true aning of life and understood "Emotional Intelligence," no longer misreading the atmosphere and being disliked by girls.
The only thing he lacked was courage.
Then, he rembered the "Dream Analysis" he had just been reading about, the symbol associated with courage.
Before sleep, he ford the symbol with his hands as described in the book, placed it over his chest, and closed his eyes peacefully.
He thought that when he woke up, a new bright path in life would unfold before him, but he ended up truly "peaceful."
Thoughts flashed by in an instant, and a strong idea suddenly surged in Rod’s heart.
If all of this was truly related to it, then.
Could I possibly return?
The very mont the thought surfaced, his blood vessels in his brain pulsed crazily, his heart nearly burst with the longing to return ho, drawing him toward family, brothers, the internet, the keyboard, and encouraging him were wives from reality or virtual, present or future.
Infinite courage rose within his heart.
There was nothing left to fear.
Rod ran quickly towards the target point.
Being in such unknown danger, decisive and focused action might not always yield good results, but it is the path closest to success.
Hesitation, indecision, and standing still—which might seem safe—often lead to worse outcos.
Although uncertain, this was the only possibility that remained.
Perhaps with just a light touch, he could instantly teleport ho.
Rod took a leap and jumped into the eerie pattern.
The next instant, his body heated up as if sothing blazingly hot penetrated him.
Then everything went dark, and countless images assaulted him.
On a dark wasteland, a company was walking alone.
Within the group, a hand reached high, crushing a black skull, with a very distinct eye pattern on the back of the hand.
The company beca chaotic, as ghostly figures moved among them.
Everyone died.
The images disappeared, the strange sensations faded, and Rod ca back to his senses. The pattern he had stepped on began evaporating, and black blood stead up, turning into fine black dust, dispersing in every direction.
The light dimd a few shades.
"What happened?"
Rod was bewildered. What did those images an? What were the heat and swelling?
And, had the strange symbol just disappeared like that?
Won’t you give a surprise?
Looking around, the sight of corpses strewn everywhere was unnerving, yet there was a sense of familiarity.
Suddenly, a thought popped up:
"Could it be that what I just saw was the scene of this troop’s annihilation?"
"And the hand that crushed the crown of the skull—was it the killer’s?"
But what use is knowing the killer to ? Will his corpse open a teleportation gate and send ho if I kill him?
As he was pondering, Rod suddenly noticed shadows fluttering around him and a strange whining sound in the air; all the bodies were shrouded in shadow.
"What’s going on?"
"I didn’t release so kind of ghostly thing, did I?"
Whoosh!
A beast covered in black fur stepped in from the edge of light and dark.
As the firelight touched it for an instant, it burst into roaring flas, with black smoke spreading with the flas into the sky.
Its movents stiffened montarily, but didn’t stop entirely, as if trudging through mire.
"Fuck!"
Rod was scared out of his wits and kept backing away.
"What the hell is this thing! I didn’t ask for this kind of surprise!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
More black-haired monsters stepped out from the Black Fog.
The flying ash and the blazing fire made them look extrely terrifying.
Bang!
In panic, Rod accidentally tripped over a corpse.
Just as he was about to get up, the corpse suddenly grabbed his ankle.
"Fuck!"
The hair on Rod’s body stood on end as he kicked away the hand of the corpse and leaped away like a startled rabbit.
"The corpses are alive!"
What was worse, upon turning his head, Rod saw that within a hundred ters, every single corpse was starting to squirm.
"Shit!"
Rod couldn’t say anything else.
He had nowhere to run, nor did he know where he could run to.
Am I done for?
In his state of panic, Rod suddenly caught a glimpse of a shooting star crossing the distant sky out of the corner of his eye.
His thoughts were montarily stirred.
He imdiately rembered that this was the rescuer from Royal City.
In his mories, Royal City was the pillar of all their beliefs.
As a Human Kingdom that could survive in such a harsh and dark environnt, they must have their own way of operating to deal with threats from the hostile outside world and invasions of monsters.
The migration team had lost contact here, they must have discovered sothing unusual!
"Hey!"
Rod shouted, hope suddenly rising in his heart.
It wasn’t just the hope of being rescued, but also a greater hope.
He had just stepped into the pattern and witnessed the scene of the migration team’s annihilation.
Combining the traces left at the scene, it could be inferred that this was definitely a preditated murder.
And the characteristic of the murderer was a very distinct eye pattern carved on the back of the hand.
This was an extrely important clue for solving the case, and if he provided it to the rescuers, he should get so reward, right?
Based on his experience in the original world, a major case involving the murder of hundreds would at least warrant issuing an S-level wanted order, right? Providing crucial information for the capture of an S-level fugitive would not be too much to ask for the allocation of an apartnt in the Royal City, would it?
If things really went as he hoped, not to say anything else, at least the probability of surviving had greatly increased.
"I’m here! I’m here!"
Rod danced in front of the light and jumped around, waving his hands frantically.
And the teor in the sky seed to have noticed him and turned to fly towards him.
"Good! I’ve got hope now!"
However, amidst the ecstasy, Rod suddenly realized that on the back of his waving hand, there was a black imprint.
The black lines intertwined up and down, forming a huge pupil.
It was exactly the sa as the one he had seen before.
You’re kidding, right?
Rod froze completely.
This... Was I actually the murderer?
Am I reporting myself to be allocated a cell in Royal City?
Thump.
The teor landed.
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