Life Dungeon Game

He paused for a moment, then slowly said,

"Everyone can be K."

After saying that, he dragged his suitcase and left the coffee shop.

“K···”

Christos picked up the playing card on the table.

That was a King of Spades.

"Your coffee."

The intelligent robot delivered the coffee to Christos.

"Thank you."

Christos reached for the coffee.

At the same time, a hand reached out from the side and took the playing cards from Christos's hand.

"It seems your 'meeting' went well,"

The silver-haired man with a ponytail looked at the playing cards in his hand.

"In playing cards, K means king, leader, ruler, and in older times, the word referred to the person who succeeds to the leadership position."

The spade symbolizes a sword, and some interpretations suggest it represents justice.

What does this mean? A king wielding a sword to uphold justice?

"Maybe they just randomly picked a playing card and put it in front of me."

Christos shrugged.

“Indeed,” the silver-haired man smiled, looking at Christos, “So, will this be our new ally?”

Upon hearing this, Christos pondered for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, the people in this organization give me the feeling that they are more like passers-by in this world. As members of the masses, they witness the development of history and observe its development, but they do not participate in history. They are just doing their own thing step by step."

He paused, looking out the window at the slowly closing factory gates, "and then planted the seeds of fire, letting them burn fiercely in the direction they were meant to burn."

"From your description, it sounds like some kind of secretive organization, like a mastermind behind the scenes." The silver-haired man chuckled, putting down the playing cards in his hand. "It seems like this organization has a significant influence on you?"

"Yes."

Christos nodded slightly, the scene of that night when the man suddenly charged towards the evil god's offspring gradually replaying in his mind. "He made me believe that there really are heroic martyrs in this world,"

He turned his gaze back to the man in front of him. "We are not alone."

The silver-haired man's gaze fell on the playing cards in his hand.

He actually heard what He Ao said when he left.

'Everyone can be K.'

-

Sitting in the taxi heading to Aston District, Heo glanced at the three playing cards in his hand. All three cards were Kings, just Kings of different suits.

He didn't know much about patterns; he just chose the code name K.

"You have arrived at your destination."

The driverless taxi slowly came to a stop, and He Ao looked up at the window.

A brightly lit sign came into his view.

Huimei Communications

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Chapter 165 Anvis Group's 'Apology' (Please subscribe and collect)

Huimei Communications is the small shop run by Roger, the underground doctor whom Reggie knew back then.

He Ao dragged his suitcase and carried his briefcase as he walked into the small shop.

There was no one in the front shop, so He Ao skillfully passed through the small door and entered the private clinic in the back.

"coming?"

Roger squatted beside a corpse that shimmered with a faint gray glow, fiddling with something as he casually asked a question.

“Hmm,” He Ao squatted down, laid the suitcase down, unzipped it, revealing a corpse inside with its chest pierced through, “New.”

······

He Ao could clearly sense Roger's silence for a moment. He stood up and looked at He Ao.

Do you think it's too late for me to call the police now?

“I had enough time. I acted in self-defense,” Heo shrugged. “Even if I go to court, they won’t convict me.”

Roger glanced at Heo, then at the two blood-soaked corpses.

His face was full of expressions that said, "Do you think I'd believe your nonsense?"

But he still crouched down, parted the assassin's wounds in the suitcase, and glanced at them. "Another D-rank?"

He lowered his hand and stood up. "I haven't seen a single D-rank in ten years here, and you killed two overnight. Are you just collecting cabbages here?"

"I'm probably just lucky."

He reached out and dragged the assassin's body out.

"Don't leave it lying around. These bloodstains are hard to clean. Put it on that dissection table over there."

Roger saw him clumsily starting to move the body and quickly said something.

He Ao chuckled and carried the body over.

"This talent sequence is most likely talent sequence 56: Assassin."

"I shouldn't have saved that old man in the first place. Now one problem after another has come my way. First, there was that old man, who was alright; he only bought some things from me. Then there's you, who actually started bringing corpses here, as if I really like these corpses."

Roger turned around and looked at Slanka's corpse. As he skillfully picked up the scalpel beside him and continued the dissection, he said, "If I ever end up in jail, it'll be because of you."

“It’s not so bad that you’re in prison,” He Ao said, arranging the body. “Those who can go in are all talented people. Don’t you have an endless supply of excellent material? As long as you get their consent and the procedures are legal.”

“Ah, that makes a lot of sense,” Roger nodded in rare agreement. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

Then he looked at He Ao and said, "You're a good kid. Think about it. After you die, let me cut open your brain and take a look."

He Ao thought about it carefully, "I might not be able to leave behind a complete corpse."

"Right."

Roger nodded.

Neither of them felt there was anything wrong with the topic.

"So, is it possible to extract Slanka's talent sequence completely?"

He walked behind Roger and looked at Slanka's body.

“Different talent sequences require different extraordinary materials to assist in extraction, and the higher the level, the longer the extraction time,” Roger stopped what he was doing. “This guy’s talent sequence should be Talent Sequence 40: Magician. It’ll probably take until this afternoon to extract it.”

"What about that one?"

He Ao pointed to being

The assassin was placed aside.

“Now that you know his talent sequence, things will be easier,” Roger said, glancing up at the assassin’s corpse. “Tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” He Ao tightened his mask and picked up the short sword beside him. “Then I’ll come find you tomorrow morning.”

According to Middle-earth law, Roger's unauthorized autopsy was illegal.

However, Middle-earth has this law, but the Commonwealth does not.

However, there is another federal law that states it is illegal not to cremate a body within three days of its death.

Violations of this law can lead to serious criminal charges, community service, or imprisonment.

Furthermore, this law is handled by a dedicated mortuary, which is strictly enforced. Its oversight is only slightly weaker than that of the tax authorities, so even the gang members in Aston District who engage in indiscriminate gang fights do not carelessly dispose of corpses.

He glanced at Roger, who was engrossed in his own thoughts, took two steps back, and began packing his things.

Roger did indeed possess the ability to extract talent sequences, just as Ortega had suspected.

This somewhat paranoid and insane underground doctor is probably not as simple as he seems on the surface.

In fact, Viana had demonstrated her ability to extract talent sequences to Heo, but Heo did not seek her out.

First, Viana may not have mastered the ability to extract other talent sequences. Her understanding of the Witch Church and its talent sequences does not necessarily mean that she understands other talent sequences in the same way.

Secondly, and most importantly, Viana is still too young. If Heo shows her the dagger and the butcher's pistol, she will definitely question him about his relationship with Roy, and may even press him relentlessly.

This is not what He Ao wanted to see; his time was extremely limited.

In contrast, Roger was more reserved and profound.

As can be seen from the last time He borrowed the short sword to buy extraordinary materials from Roger, Roger would not ask any questions; he only recognized Rigitt's short sword.

Having this sword is like having a pass; you can ask for his help at a certain cost.

Roger never asked why; he simply kept his promise and did his part.

Of course, Roger wasn't without feelings either.

After all, anyone who shows up with this sword will receive his help.

-

He Ao walked out of the clinic with his suitcase, bought a basic backpack from a roadside stall, then found a small alley, took out the clothes tucked inside his combat uniform, and changed into them.

Then he tucked the cloak into his backpack and the short sword inside his jacket.

The dark clouds in the sky gradually obscured the bright sunshine.

He Ao went home, put his suitcase inside, took off his combat uniform to charge it, and then washed off all the more noticeable bloodstains on his body in the bathroom.