Pixel Maniac in the Comic World

Chapter 4 Something
  Terry blinked, as if a speck of dust visible to the naked eye flew out of the air, and then quickly enlarged under the reflection of his pupils, a brass-colored square appeared out of thin air more than a foot away from his chest.

Almost subconsciously, Terry stretched out his right hand and grabbed the brass cube.

Under the slow-motion lens, the five fingers seemed to open very slowly, and the block was constantly decomposing and fissuring in the air, giving birth to four, and four to sixteen - until the shape of a pixel brass sword appeared, and Tai Rui's right hand finally grasped the hilt of the sword.

Looking at the brass sword in his hand, which was made up of countless brass cubes, Terry raised his hand and waved it.

The cracking is not over, each pixel block is still splitting, just like the 480p picture quality slowly evolving towards Blu-ray 4K. In the end, a simple-looking copper dagger with a metallic luster all over the body followed Terry. The force of the swing stopped and was completely frozen.

"Cool!"

Putting the dagger upright, Terry's eyes showed a little fascination, and he carefully looked at the shining sword body.

The entire copper sword is about the length of an adult male's arm span and about two fingers wide. From the tip to the sword grid to the hilt, the entire body is made of brass. The hilt has a spiral shape to increase the friction of holding it. It has strength, but does not have the corresponding volume of metal weight in the hand.

A weapon made of pure copper should be very heavy, but Terry felt that this sword was very light in his hand.

"Is it because of the dexterity bonus of the prefix entry?"

"Come down! Uncle!"

Uncle's shout suddenly came from downstairs, interrupting Terry's eagerness to try.

The bronze sword still didn't respond, and Terry couldn't help but shed a drop of cold sweat on his temples.

"Hurry up! It's the first day of transfer registration. Don't be late. You have to leave a good impression on the school!"

Do you want to take this sword to school?

Three seconds later, Terry's eyes looked a little confused.

Uncle Martin regularly calls in the house cleaning crew, and the sword is unsafe wherever it is hidden and will be discovered.

"Come down for breakfast! Terry!"

"Uh, come right away, uncle!"

His uncle's repeated urging forced Terry to give up his continued experiments with the copper dagger.

Recycle!

The bronze sword still lay quietly in his hand, without any feedback to his consciousness.

"Recycle!"

Turning his wrist to form a not-so-smooth sword flower, Terry raised his sword and made a chopping motion. The blade made a crisp whistling sound as it rubbed against the air.

What's going on? Can't the weapon be put back into the inventory after it's summoned?

Terry stared at the dagger in his hand.

Terry opened his mouth to respond, looked around anxiously and blankly, and then immediately rejected the idea of ​​hiding the dagger in the room.

"Recycle!"

There is no way to explain the origin of this sword to Uncle Martin, okay?
  "Recycle!"

Do you want to cut something?
  With the sharp blade in his hand, Terry had some inexplicable impulse in his heart. He turned around and looked around, trying to find something to test the sharpness of this copper sword.

"Aren't you down yet? Terry! Speed ​​up!"

"Recycle!"

"Switch?"

The texture in his hand suddenly sank, and a copper metal pickaxe half a man's height replaced the copper sword.

Terry's eyes lit up.

"Switch!"

This time it turned into a double-edged giant ax about the size of two volleyballs. It was also made of brass and was heavier than the previous two.

Terry had to use both hands to hold on to the copper ax and prevent it from falling.

"Switch!"

Newbie gift pack!

This time, a palm-sized leather bag lay quietly in Terry's hand. It was small in size and almost negligible in weight.

"That's no problem." He grabbed the coat draped on the back of the chair and stuffed the newbie gift bag into his inner pocket. Terry hurried out and went downstairs, while his uncle sat at the dining table, looking slightly unhappy.

"Procrastination is not a good habit, Terry. Remember, you have to be quick in everything you do."

Terry smiled awkwardly, his eyes rolled around, and he keenly noticed the breakfast on the dining table.

"Want to eat polenta today, uncle?"

"Um - actually it was originally polenta soup, but there was something wrong with the heat."

Uncle Martin was successfully distracted, and his originally serious face looked a little embarrassed: "I think it tastes okay. If you don't want to eat it, you can find a convenience store on the road to buy some bread later."

"How could it be, uncle?"

Terry pulled up his chair and said, "I'm not picky about food."

……

Half an hour later, Terry was sitting in the passenger seat holding his schoolbag, while Martin was driving intently.

It's not that Terry is too old to be independent. In fact, he can take the subway to Queens by himself and complete the transfer registration procedures alone.

But Martin insisted on sending him there.

"Starting today, you can rent a house in Queens by yourself."

While waiting for the traffic light, Martin suddenly said, but he did not turn around, but looked straight ahead.

"I will call you regularly for living expenses. If it is not enough, remember to tell me."

"Um……"

Terry agreed in a low voice.

Then the car fell into silence. Martin quietly raised his eyes and glanced at Terry who was distracted through the rearview mirror, opened his mouth, and sighed imperceptibly.

"You can buy whatever you want, uncle is not short of money."

"As for your headache this morning, I will help you contact the doctor this afternoon and send you the location and contact information then."

"..."

"Why do I have to go to Queens?"

Terry looked out the window with his eyes in a daze, and suddenly asked a confused question.

Martin trembled slightly when he heard this, and his hands unnaturally touched the steering wheel a few times.

"I thought we were done discussing this..."

"Training me to live independently? That's a poor excuse, uncle."

Terry interrupted Martin's explanation and turned back to look at this relative who had the same black hair and yellow skin as himself.

Martin was silent for several seconds, then slowly started the car when the traffic light turned green.

He seemed to be a little irritated, and suddenly he punched the steering wheel with his fist, and a harsh horn sounded. Fortunately, there was no vehicle in front of him, otherwise it might have caused a scolding war between low-quality drivers.

"You have to understand me, Terry."

"We are yellow people!"

Martin's chewing muscles kept clenching: "If we want to survive in New York, there are some things we have to do and some dangers we have to face, so I can't let you stay by my side, Terry."

"Believe me, Terry, I will be able to do a bigger career soon. Then we can go wherever we want. Uncle will take you to Hawaii, take you to Las Vegas - you want to go Where? How about going to the North Pole to see the aurora?"

Terry stretched out his hand and gently put it on Martin's shoulder. The latter's words suddenly stopped, and the car fell into silence again.

"Are you in danger, uncle?"

Martin trembled, took a deep breath, and then became calm again.

He stretched out a hand and pressed it on the back of Terry's hand.

"Uncle will not be in danger. Uncle is much more capable than you think."

"As long as you stay in Queens with peace of mind, no one can intimidate Martin Lee!"

(End of this chapter)