Black sail

Chapter 684 LXIV. The Woman Sings, the Man Dies.

The scene of the mainland martial arts competition.

The stage is suspended above the arena. After the performance, it will also serve as the "Sky Arena" for the final battle of the champions. The champions of the Continental Martial Arts Tournament and the strongest in the world must make the most of their prestige.

It has excellent sound insulation.

Despite the cheers from the crowd outside and the music played by the Prism Soundcore Band, the atmosphere outside was already incredibly exciting.

But the dressing room and backstage area inside the suspended stage remained quiet.

As the biggest star, Qili will be the one to connect the past and the future, and will appear in the middle.

In front of the full-length mirror, several stylists were busy working on Qili, touching up her makeup, refining details, and adjusting the accessories on her clothes.

Qili, on the other hand, felt no nervousness whatsoever. She had attended countless grand ceremonies, whether in the East or West of the Narrow Sea, or even in the Southern Continent, and was already quite adept at it.

Because the event organizers are incredibly powerful, the Aran military government is terrifying. Such an annual opportunity to amass wealth and replenish the national treasury is rare, so they must provide comprehensive protection.

Not only did the Aifugeni Foundation have its own makeup artists, but the organizers also provided stylists who were court etiquette officials.

"You are simply... a perfect work of art."

Even the court stylist was at a loss for words. It was his first time working with Qili, and he didn't know how to put it. He could only say that she was the most perfect creation of beauty and the Holy Spirit of the Covenant.

A mysterious and elusive atmosphere gives rise to enigmatic symbols, just as it is impossible to exhaust all the secrets of a library.

Her shadows were not her appendages, but independent ghosts, the sum of the despair of all those who died for her and those who admired her.

Like a labyrinth, every moment you gaze upon her carries with it all the unfinished regrets, becoming an eternal, unsolvable mystery.

The court stylist couldn't hold back any longer and used a string of exaggerated words to praise her.

It wasn't that he had been mentally impaired; even without any fluctuations of etheric arcane energy, she did possess a strange magical power.

"Thank you."

That was the only answer Qili could give.

She knew she had a kind of "brain-depressing aura." Many business tycoons or local strongmen, no matter how much she had heard about their achievements, would become silly and say strange things after she got to know them.

It's not that I'm annoyed, it's just that I've completely gotten used to this situation.

Qili never goes to disputed areas and only lives in the First World where homeland is safe. That's the kind of people she encounters.

Because of her extreme versatility, Qili can pull off any type of makeup look.

In many grand events, apart from some specific themes that need to be coordinated with the organizers, when choosing makeup and styling, makeup artists generally blindly choose the solemn and dignified style with a bit of a divine descent feel, because Qili can completely carry it. Needless to say, her appearance and figure are also excellent, and most importantly, her posture and demeanor are impeccable.

This time, the makeup and styling were a bit different, as they were planned and prepared in advance.

Clothing is the embodiment of vitality. A gorgeous backless long dress with a classic black and gold texture, the texture and lines of the back are like a statue kissed by the moonlight, radiating a warm and cold light. It is also a blasphemous ladder of desire to climb evil pleasure. The decorative glass pieces and intertwined floral patterns on the hem and neckline are like the illusion of time being gilded.

Makeup and costumes are integrated.

The Eye Wave is a tributary of the Almazbek (the longest river west of the Narrow Sea), its meandering course concealing an untamed wildness, flowing over all silent desires.

The red on the lips, in a desolate world, makes desire sprout and loneliness burn.

Because of her somewhat melancholic temperament, she is so beautiful that it even evokes a sense of melancholy.

The makeup artist was still working on her thick, long black hair.

"The adjutant you mentioned, doesn't he exist?"

Qili asked her assistant, as someone who makes a living with her voice, her timbre was exceptionally gifted.

She needed to confirm this, because she had never encountered anything like it before. The Eternal Sect actually had such a talent. Since it was a place dedicated to cultivation, they should be pure and free from desires. She didn't know what had gotten into her.

Qili also likes to read novels when she has free time.

But the novels in the Western Continent... are far more perverted than a little bit.

The monsters that the nun faced were terrifying, and her superior, the priest, was an even more repulsive figure with a face full of scars and a weight of 300 pounds.

It's not that Qili likes reading this kind of novel, it's just that all the best-selling novels on the market have so-called "explosive" plot points.

There are no restrictions on subject matter here. As long as you don't engage in ideological work and like printing pamphlets, you can write whatever you want.

"Yes, a priest just came over and said so, but he's only been here a little while."

To avoid affecting Qili's condition, the assistant didn't bring it up. After the performance, this floating stage would be used as a sky arena, and it would most likely be destroyed by those monsters. After the performance, everyone would retreat to the backstage area of ​​the arena for rehearsals and previews.

And the adjutant would meet her in the dressing room where Qili had previously rehearsed.

"Damn..."

Only these two words came out of Qili.

I'm afraid this adjutant is like the priests in novels—too scary.

"You'll come with me later."

Qili said to her assistant.

The assistant was also sweating. To be honest, there were many details she hadn't been told, for fear of affecting her performance.

The Eternal Sect acts with far more ruthlessness than the military government. These charlatans are all delusional; once they've made the arrangements, they're expected to take care of everything.

The Eternal Cult has feudal power; female clergy must serve the Dragon Lord until they are thirty, but it doesn't matter if it's male.

The adjutant won a fierce battle and wanted to see Qili. It was nothing special; he took care of everything.

"it is good."

The assistant could only offer a perfunctory response for the time being.

The Eternal Sect's idea was for the adjutant and Qili to quickly finish their business in the lounge, but they obviously couldn't say that openly, and only allowed Qili to meet with them alone.

But the assistant could only wait and talk to her later, afraid that she would throw a tantrum and refuse to perform. At that time, the Evegeni Foundation would not only be dealt with by the Aran military government, but also by the Eternal Church.

You could chop off tens of millions of heads!

The performance venue.

As the cultural performances in September came and went, the atmosphere at the scene was electric. Landlords, rich and powerful people from all over the country came, and the bets on the championship match were getting bigger and bigger.

"I still want to thank you. Without you, I probably would never have seen this in my life."

Garen clicked his tongue in amazement.

This floating stage is the culmination of Magic Energy Industries' efforts. The stage lighting effects are impeccable; they were created entirely for the performance, spraying gold flakes, ribbons, and even spitting fire.

Outside, organizers were coordinating a large-scale fireworks display, which kept going off non-stop. For the Arameans, whose state religion was the eternal church, today was like a New Year's celebration.

What I want is for everyone to get dizzy and confused, and hurry up and place their bets.

In the Western Continent, it's mostly male-dominated, with very few guys performing. The organizers know this, though; it's all beautiful women, beautiful women, and more beautiful women.

I'll let you control the big picture with your small head. Hurry up and place your bets for me. If you win, you can buy and enjoy whatever you want.

"You're welcome, you've helped me a lot too."

Glenn remained unmoved by the performance; he had left it to fate to decide Lister's destiny. Those who had bet all their money had already advanced to the final round.

She never expected it to come to this. With so much money in hand, destroying the current Donghai International would still be difficult, but it would be more than enough to buy one person's life.

Today, we are surrounded by dignitaries and distinguished guests from various countries.

The chief of Lostra Chess and Card Game Company, the priest of the Holy Spirit Church, and the representative of the Pedan Atomic Heart Church—these extraterrestrial allies were also present, thanks to Lin Jun's magnanimous hospitality.

The biggest event of the year in September saw people partying like they were on steroids. The bands not only played and sang their hearts out but also knew how to interact with the audience, and even the nobles didn't put on airs and wailed.

Micah had already scouted the location and knew where the lounge was.

It would be a shame to not come out and see the performance.

He pulled his hat brim low, wore an armband with the dragon emblem on his arm, and swiped his ID card to enter the performance venue, becoming an ordinary member of the audience.

There's still some time before the glamorous performance, but the show on stage right now is already quite exciting.

The corpses of historical sinners, fragments of ancient royal artifacts, a dragon from the stars, and the legend of the overlord's bloodline.

A headshot that will soon be flying all over the world.

All of that was left behind.

Tonight, he cared not about the world war, but only about the silhouette of the poster on the wall of the Flemish Revenge cabin.

(End of this chapter)