After drawing cards, the evil god became my source of吐槽 (tu cao, a form of humorous commentary/criti

Chapter 133

The footsteps were already very close.

Several figures emerged from behind the bushes, dressed in uniform dark combat uniforms. Their faces had no obvious markings, and their auras were well concealed, yet they could not suppress the habitual indifference and scrutiny.

They were clearly no strangers to this kind of scene.

An overturned car, shattered glass, the pervasive smell of gasoline, and a target that should have been dead.

Just as one of them raised his hand, preparing to open the severely deformed car door, the air suddenly changed.

It was as if some unseen force had suddenly cooled the temperature.

The wind stopped.

The blades of grass stood still in mid-air, and even the dust seemed to have been paused.

The next second, a pitch-black rift opened silently.

That wasn't the generation of a mysterious magnetic field; it was more like some kind of being being temporarily allowed to descend.

Black mist billowed out, condensing into a tall, human-shaped silhouette.

It was draped in a tattered black cloak, beneath which lay not flesh and blood, but an unfathomable void. Pale, skeletal hands emerged from its sleeves, firmly gripping a massive scythe, its blade curved and gleaming with a cold, otherworldly light.

At that moment, even those who were used to seeing unusual events couldn't help but hold their breath.

"……what?"

Someone muttered a curse under their breath and subconsciously took a half step back.

Before they could react further, the overturned car door creaked open from the inside.

The airbags have deflated.

An Jing slowly stepped out of the car.

Her movements were slow, and she even seemed somewhat tired. Her black coat was dusty, and there was a small bloodstain on her forehead that meandered down her skin, but she didn't look disheveled.

She stood beside the researcher's body, her gaze lingering briefly before shifting away.

When she looked up again, there was no emotion left in her eyes.

It was as cold as a completely frozen lake.

"People from the Secret Service?"

She asked the question, her voice not loud, but clearly heard by everyone.

The group of people were clearly taken aback and subconsciously exchanged glances.

no answer.

The next second, one of them sneered, his tone impatient and wary: "Enough with the nonsense."

"It seems that it really is true." An Jing tilted his head slightly as if he had been confirmed.

This action, which should have appeared casual, inexplicably carried a chilling undertone in this moment.

She looked at them as if they were items about to be disposed of.

"Why is it that people like you," she began slowly, her words deliberate yet each one like a pebble falling to the ground, "don't value life at all?"

The moment she finished speaking, she raised her hand.

There were no extra movements, just a very casual wave.

It's like signaling the start.

Beneath the black cloak, the enormous scythe suddenly rose.

The air was torn apart by an invisible force, producing a teeth-grinding buzzing sound.

"Do it—!"

One of them finally realized what was happening and drew his gun, only to find that his wrist was being gripped tightly by something, and he couldn't even lift it.

Fear was clearly visible on their faces for the first time.

The next instant, the scythe fell.

There were no scenes of blood splattering.

That was a more bizarre and thorough disappearance.

As the black blade swept across, the four people's bodies seemed to be swallowed into another dimension the instant they touched the blade. They were completely erased before they could even scream.

Bones, flesh and blood, consciousness.

Nothing is left.

Only a wisp of air remained, quickly returning to calm.

As if they had never existed.

Death stood silently for a moment, then transformed into a wisp of black mist and merged back into An Jing's body.

The world has regained its sound.

The wind rustled the grass, and the chirping of unknown insects drifted from afar.

All that remained were overturned vehicles, shattered roads, and the young researcher who would never wake up again.

An Jing stood there, silent for a few seconds.

Then, as if she had done something she had long anticipated, she slowly took out her phone and dialed a number.

The call was answered almost instantly.

"Hello? An Jing?" Yuri's voice was as crisp as ever, but she paused slightly when she heard background noise. "Weren't you already on your way?"

An Jing leaned against the car door, her voice so calm it didn't sound like she'd just experienced an attack.

"I was attacked."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

“The new researcher who picked me up is dead,” she continued, her tone calm to the point of being cold. “The ones who tried to stop me are dead too.”

Yuri: "...?"

"I'll head to the mission location first," An Jing said as if reporting something completely ordinary. "Send someone to handle the situation." A distinct gasp came from the other end of the phone.

"Wait, wait a minute—An Jing, what did you just say? Who died? What happened? Are you hurt? Who was the other person?"

Before Yuri could finish her series of questions, the call was disconnected.

beep--

The busy signal sounded particularly jarring in my ears.

Yuri stood there, holding her phone, looking as if she had been struck by lightning.

The good news is that An Jingren is alright.

The bad news is…

It seems she committed murder.

And judging from their tone, there was more than one.

Yuri took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She raised her hand to rub her temples, her mind a jumbled mess.

wrong.

If they were truly from the Secret Service, they couldn't have disappeared without a trace.

It's even more impossible that there wasn't even a body.

She suddenly realized something, and her eyes gradually darkened.

"Prepare the car," she said coldly to her subordinate beside her. "I'll go myself."

the other side.

An Jing has left the accident scene.

She flagged down a car on the roadside and explained in the simplest way that she wanted to go to the airport.

The driver glanced at her slightly disheveled appearance but didn't ask any questions, simply nodding in agreement.

The car restarted, and the city lights gradually came on.

An Jing leaned against the car window and closed her eyes.

The exhaustion seemed to have finally found an outlet, surging up all at once.

She could clearly feel the depletion of her mental energy, the feedback from the cards, and the increasingly unbearable sense of emptiness.

We've reached a critical point.

Not the body, but the mind.

That young face flashed through my mind.

I was just talking to her nervously, my eyes filled with longing and admiration.

In the blink of an eye, he became a cold corpse.

Is all of this really what she was supposed to have to endure?
Luo Chuan said that humanity needs a future.

He Lin also said that as long as there are still people alive, there is hope.

What are the survivors doing?
The pursuit of fame and fortune, the struggle for power and influence, have torn the already fragile order to shreds.

She suddenly felt a little lost.

When will all this finally stop?
The car entered the airport expressway.

An Jing opened her eyes, regaining her almost indifferent calm.

She had already bought a ticket to the small fishing village city.

The mission is still waiting for her.

As for the others…

I can only let it go temporarily.

at the same time.

Yuri has arrived at the accident scene.

The overturned car was cordoned off, and professionals were investigating. She immediately spotted the body covered with a white sheet.

Yuri's hand trembled slightly as she lifted the white cloth.

too young.

They even have a student-like air about them.

Her throat tightened, and an indescribable sense of guilt welled up in her chest.

If she comes to pick it up herself.

If it weren't for having a newcomer fill in.

Perhaps none of this would have happened.

As for the people An Jing mentioned...

Yuri searched almost the entire area, but couldn't find even the slightest trace.

There are no bodies.

There is no blood.

It's like it evaporated into thin air.

She stood there, silent for a long time.

In the end, he simply raised his hand and closed the record board.

“This matter,” she said in a low voice, “ends here.”

Some truths have been suppressed.

They could only be suppressed.

(End of this chapter)