Wasteland Echoer.

Chapter 642 MB-112: Skin of Hatred

"Huh? What are you saying?" The Chooser gasped gruffly, its two eyes, of different sizes, bursting open with the opening and closing of the muscles on its head, dripping crimson fluid.

However, it seemed that the "divinity" within him erased his sense of pain, or perhaps the newly formed muscles had no sensation at all. The Chosen One felt no pain at all, only his lips were turned up as high as possible, and he looked at Dark with a strange expression.

“I mean, I saw you in another dream cycle, the Chosen One. It might have been a dream, or it might not have been a dream at all, but another parallel universe. In any case, the power within you comes from those two Ordered Demons.” Dark pointed to the Chosen One’s heart.

Clearly, the heart of the Chosen One no longer possesses any human attributes; even the divine part has been completely destroyed by the power of the Lord of the Night.

Now, the missing heart has been replaced by a mass of white muscle tissue resembling the brain. Although it has little intelligence or thought, it constantly divides into tiny, visible "cells" to fill the void, transforming into heart muscle and maintaining the blood supply to the whole body.

The remaining white muscle emerged from tiny, fingernail-sized holes in the chest, resembling animal excrement or cement poured into a room from a wall. It adhered to the initially thin skeleton, transforming into increasingly thick, powerful, terrifying, and bizarre muscle tissue that defied description.

"It seems, Chosen One, your divinity has long since vanished, like the Eternal Crimson Lord that Light Socrates saw. The intense 'sorrow' within the Crimson Illusion Ruins forced him to constantly unleash his divinity to avoid a mental breakdown, but the 'sorrow' also turned him into a monster." Dark's voice was exceptionally cold, just like the power he possessed:
"In the year 557 of the New Era, the Ruins of Bitter Depth collapsed, and Ivan XXII and the two thousand so-called elites he left behind perished in the Underworld as atonement. At the end of the same year, the Ruins of Crimson Illusion collapsed, and the continuous 'Crimson Wave' finally stopped bewitching people and bringing fear to humanity. The Lord of Eternal Crimson fell, and the Federation rescued a large number of technologies from the old empire from the 'Universe Shore,' thus continuing the flame of civilization."

"Let's not talk about recent events, but about something a little further back. In the year 527 of the New Era, the Crown Prince of the Zhne Empire led troops to besiege the three Lost Churches in the Silent Highlands, thus starting a war. In the end, the Daughter of the Machine, who was hiding deep in the ruins of the Highlands, was killed by the Orderers and perished. The three churches fell apart. Although Ivante was killed in action, neither humanity nor the Lost were able to wage a larger-scale war."

"What are you trying to say?" the Decision Maker asked in an ethereal, echoing tone.

To his surprise, the continuous convergence of muscles towards the eyeball actually increased the already unbearable internal pressure of the eyeball. With a crisp "bang," the human eyeball, which was slightly expanding, burst open, leaving only a few drooping blood vessels and nerves.

However, the Chosen One still felt no pain. Even as blood and pus flowed to the corners of his mouth, staining his teeth and tongue, he remained oblivious, staring intently at Dark with his dragon-like vertical pupils, awaiting an answer.

"Human civilization will not perish, but this world cannot tolerate rebirth after destruction. Nor can it tolerate a god blinded by greed and self-interest. You, the Chosen One, have abandoned Adaroni, abandoned all those who fought alongside you, and for the power bestowed by the Lord of Night, you are already gravely sinful. Your cold-bloodedness and arrogance have made you unworthy of living in this world." Dark slowly raised his "Imitation-Bear" pistol, but pointed it at his own heart:
"I was once a monstrous creature with petrified skin, living in a daze for decades. It was the Creator and fate that bestowed upon me wisdom, allowing me to exist as a human. I served in the 'Mayan City Special Task Force' and fought alongside Yaroslav, but I am still an officer appointed by the Crusad Federal Council. I have never betrayed my beliefs, nor my efforts to revive human civilization."

"But you betrayed yourself, so you have been sleeping in this underground palace, this prison, until now."

"This is my own choice. I will wait... wait for Adaloni to join forces and wipe out all the remaining... all human nations, and establish... a new, new world." The Chosen One roared, panting and swaying.

"The New World?" Darke laughed.
"Do you know what 'Hate Skin' really is? Then I'll tell you, lest you be unknowingly deceived by the Lord of the Night. MB-112: Hate Skin was never a product of this world; it came from the universe. Back then, Ivan XXII's space program wasn't entirely unsuccessful. He did successfully send a red-haired boy into outer space, allowing him to see the hidden back of Earth in the darkness through the starlight reflected from the moonlight in the dim universe."

"In reality, the Earth's angle of deviation from the equator is far more exaggerated than we imagine, which results in a sea area that is never exposed to sunlight for most of the time. The Crusaders call it the 'Ancient Dark Zone'."

"The realm of the 'ancient gods' is inherently dark... The Lord of the Night... wants to... unite with them, so that darkness... will become the dominant force in the world." The Chosen One brandished his fist, his muscles taut and slightly twitching, and angrily threw a punch at Dark.

His bulky body looked ridiculous with the high agility bonus from the [Troublemaker] class ability. These punches, which appeared to be released in slow motion in Dark's eyes, were easily dodged by him with a simple sidestep.

Immediately afterwards, he kicked the Chosen One, who was staggering to his feet, and then pulled the trigger on one of the broken dragon wings on his back.

boom!
The silver bullet grazed the junction of the wing and back, severing the tendons. The tattered dragon wing floated gracefully in the air like a falling leaf for several seconds before slowly landing, turning into a pile of rotten, broken leaves.

“Besides the lack of sunlight, a thick fog permeates the vast ocean sky above, stretching from the endless icy sea to the Black Min Islands. I suspect this is why ships cannot successfully traverse the ancient realm of the gods. I think it's not the enormous waves that hinder progress, but rather the chaotic magnetic field, coupled with the disorientation of day and night, that causes the explorers to lose their way.” Dark continued, pressing his foot on the back of the Chosen One and grinding hard on the broken wing:

"MB-112: Hateful Skin, is a mysterious monster that was naturally generated in the universe. It is said that in order to prevent the red-haired boy from spying on their territory in the universe, the ancient gods fired γ-K01 rays at the spaceship, which caused the boy's heart to mutate and forced him to guide the spaceship back to land at Lake Jobel, which is still under the rule of Crusaders."

"Later, the mutated heart completely devoured the red-haired boy's body one night, turning him into a lump of flesh with consciousness. Anyone who gets close to him will become obsessed with the muscles and fantasize about wearing the 'Hateful Muscles' and showing off a beautiful and strong figure."

"Humans who cannot obtain the 'Flesh of Hatred' will become addicted to endless fantasies about the flesh and die from the pain of unfulfilled desires. Therefore, Emperor Crusad did not accept this rank of monster and even erased all information about the red-haired boy from all official records, and changed the record of this space voyage from success to failure."

"So, the entire continent isn't actually flat; we really live on a planet?" Adaloni looked at Dark with a puzzled expression. Dark was instantly speechless!

"Brother, the flat Earth theory is hundreds of years outdated. When we get to Khitanris, I advise you to brush up on your scientific knowledge. After all, magic is declining now, and future humans won't be able to rely on it. Back to 'Hateful Muscles'." Dark removed his foot from the Chooser, jumped aside, looked at the Chooser whose muscles had swelled even more, and continued:
"The 'Hate-Induced Skin' was taken in by the Khitanris branch of the banned organization. Anyone wishing to study it had to wear special metal glasses to avoid mental interference. They discovered that the 'Hate-Induced Skin' had excellent compatibility with the vast majority of animals."

"No matter how small the piece is cut, it can be perfectly attached to the flesh to fill the gaps or heal the wounds. However, the 'Flesh of Hatred' that is not connected to the main body can only last for 120 days, after which it will quickly wither and die. The Eventre people once studied its use to save soldiers."

"However, to unleash the full power of 'Hateful Skin,' the heart must be pierced, allowing the main body of 'Hateful Skin' to fill the wound. But the user must possess exceptional mental strength, at least the ability to resist 'charm' and 'seduction' to perfectly suppress him. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise, what will happen?" The Decision Maker rushed up to Dark and looked down at him.

This time, he didn't attack Dark at all. Instead, he used his newly grown dragon claws to grab Dark's shoulders and asked urgently.

“Otherwise, the ‘Ancient God’ power possessed by ‘Hateful Skin’ will constantly interfere with your will, causing you to succumb to low whispers and evil thoughts. You will be confused, then believe, then sink, and finally go mad!” Dark sneered.

"Of course, you can also use its power, after all, 'Hateful Skin' can transform any part of your body into what the 'Ancient Gods' desire. Every time you use it, your 'divinity' and 'personality' will be destroyed by it."

"Once you have completely lost your humanity and 'divinity,' you will become a puppet with endless brute force, belonging to the 'ancient' and the dark."

The decision-maker did not object, but stared blankly at Dark's lips.
About a minute later, a biting wind that shouldn't have been there suddenly swept around his body, causing his wriggling hair to sway wildly, and also causing the flaming clothes that were attached to him to maintain his last bit of dignity to completely fall away.

Dark, black and red specks of light surged from his brain, and the "Flesh of Hatred" further covered the Chooser's body, causing the other tattered wing belonging to the dragon to fall off.

Then, two newly formed blue hands, covered with eyeballs and cracks, replaced the original wings. Combined with the dim black and red light spots, they further stimulated the power of the "Hateful Skin," making the remaining spirituality in the Chooser's vertical pupil even more pitiful.

"Hehehe, hehehe." A chilling laugh emanated from the Chosen One's throat. After the "Hateful Skin" completely destroyed the Chosen One's consciousness, it fully released the power of the Ordered Monster, causing the Chosen One's muscles to turn abnormally black. Apart from the originally bizarre parts, the rest of the muscles looked as if they had been painted with a layer of black paint.

"The Chosen One has fallen. He died from desire and greed. Desire itself is not terrible, but when greed amplifies it completely, even gods cannot remain unscathed." Dark coldly stared at the walking corpse that had long lost its divinity and whose body once belonged to the Chosen One, and said with regret.

However, when all the spider lilies on the ground in the core area of ​​the palace withered, the countless crimson and azure energies were not collected by the Chosen One, but were all poured into the body of the only high-ranking professional present who possessed "divinity".

These complex energies, condensed from "sorrow," extraordinary power, ancient power, and demonic energy, all belonged to Dark, the [Troublemaker], after the suppression of the Chosen One was removed. Countless sparks, like elfin spirits, rushed into Dark's nostrils and mouth, causing his eyes to first flash crimson, then gleam with a blue light.

After a burst of crimson and azure flames appeared on his body, Dark felt the white "battle" sequence core becoming more and more solid. The pitch-black black sequence core, representing "abandonment," was slowly forming deep within his mind. It seemed that he was just one step away from breaking through the shackles of sequence 3 and advancing to sequence 2: abandonment.

The fluctuating energy allowed the Decision Maker, a body that had lost most of its physical form and relied solely on its instinctive thirst for flesh and blood, to smell an exciting aroma.

The Decision Maker greedily grinned, revealing jagged, yet exceptionally sharp teeth, and charged towards Dark.

This time, Dark did not dodge. Instead, he quickly mobilized all the water-based magical energy within his body. Relying on magical energy that was nearly twice as strong as before, he swiftly condensed a sharp ice spike. At the same time, just as the Chooser leaped up and was about to smash down, he pressed it into the Chooser's only remaining vertical pupil, which was almost half the size of his head.

Phew!

White blood splattered everywhere, slowing down the decision-maker's actions.

Instead of sitting idly by or hesitating, Dark immediately pulled the trigger as many times as possible, targeting the vulnerable mind of the decision-maker.

Bang! Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!
Finally, when the smoke from the gunfire cleared, the Chooser's brain had turned into a worthless pile of minced meat, and the "Hate Muscles" in his heart had abandoned the Chooser, who had followed him for hundreds of years, and was heading towards a more powerful new master, Dark.