What?! My anime figures have all come true!

Chapter 185 Where exactly is the bad cat?

"Oh, oh ...

On the other side, the dark mage softly repeated Nyarlathotep's words, pondering whether it was the other person's name or a spell, since he had never heard such a language before.

In this timeline where the small town becomes Yingzhou Province, Japanese is just a local dialect. Therefore, the Federation people who have not been influenced by Japanese anime and have not had much contact with Yingzhou Province naturally cannot understand it.

In Chen Xiao's previous life, Japanese anime had a great influence on Europe and America. On Douyin (TikTok), you could see groups of black kids who couldn't even do basic math performing Naruto and Sasuke in front of the camera, shouting "La Sen Lan" and "Shidori" at the same time.

If this were in her past life, and Nyaruko had said this, people would have known she was joking or teasing them.

But the dark sorcerer didn't know that.

Either the silver-haired girl's name is that, or she recited a spell to counteract her own power.

That's why he so decisively cut off contact.

It's a bit overgrown with weeds.

"One after another—it just never ends!"

The dark sorcerer stepped down from the altar, removed his spell-casting robes, and revealed an appearance no different from that of an ordinary villager, which was extremely deceptive.

"That idiot Derek! He drank two glasses of cheap whiskey and dared to spout nonsense into the Black Queen's secret manual! As a result, he summoned some unknown 'thing' that turned most of the town into—into that kind of thing!"

He angrily kicked an empty wine bottle beside the altar, and the bottle rolled into the shadows with a crisp cracking sound.

And there's more than just this one bottle.

There were also many beer bottles scattered around.

"Such a huge commotion—it swarmed the city's big corporations like vultures smelling carrion, and the National Guard practically sealed off the valley's exit like an iron barrel! And those superheroes flying around—as if they wanted everyone to know how special they were!"

When the topic of superheroes came up, the dark sorcerer spat dismissively, saying, "They're just a bunch of brainwashed humanoid weapons who think they're so free."

He didn't even see the other person's soul when he died.

I guess those capitalists took them and recycled them.

"Now—now there's some silver-haired girl out of nowhere! My ultimate Frankenstein's monster got kicked to death before even reaching the front lines! Fuck! I can't live like this anymore!"

The black sorcerer's angry curses echoed in the church's secret chamber.

"This is retribution! You blasphemous cultists are destined to suffer the consequences!"

At that moment, an angry female voice came from behind the altar.

The dark wizard turned his head and saw a cage made of thick steel bars in the corner of the church's secret room. Inside the cage was a young woman of about twenty-three or twenty-four years old—Chris White.

Chris spread her arms to shield the seven or eight young people huddled together behind her as much as possible. Her short, flaxen hair was a little messy, her cheeks were stained with dirt, and her clothes were torn in many places, but there was no fear in her bright green eyes as she stared intently at the dark mage.

"Retribution? Dear reporter, if it weren't for me, you, and those terrified lambs behind you," would have turned into those monsters outside with three extra arms or mouths on their belly buttons, or even less than human beings, just days ago when my brother caused the anomaly! It was I who activated the protective ritual of this old altar, pulling you all in! It was also me who used my savings to buy weapons and ammunition to protect you!"

The dark mage turned his head and looked at Chris with the eyes of someone looking at a fool, like a savior who was not understood.

Chris: You'd be a fool to believe that!

She clearly remembered that just as she was being dragged into the depths of the church by two villagers with fanatical eyes, this villager in black robes pointed at her and said to several other people in black robes: "—Pure souls, especially wombs bearing new life, are the best sacrifices for sacrificial rituals!"

And now he's playing the savior here?

"You wanted to use me as a sacrifice."

"Cress said coldly, her hands unconsciously protecting her still flat stomach."

"I heard everything you and your accomplices said."

"Oh----"

The black mage didn't explain anything further, just snorted coldly, then turned and walked to the other side of the altar, where several corpses lay scattered about.

But it doesn't look like a real corpse; it's a dummy pieced together from various pieces of rotting flesh.

More importantly, they also had some old hunting rifles, crudely made homemade pistols, and even a few well-maintained standard rifles scattered around them—in a small town in the Federation, this was considered heavy firepower.

The dark mage crouched down, a hint of pain flashing across his face.

He carefully pulled out a palm-sized, intricately carved compass from his robes, made of obsidian and dark silver metal, and then took out several small bottles containing dark red powder and fluorescent blue liquid.

Then the black magician began chanting incantations, and the pointer on the compass began to spin wildly. The powder and liquid flew up on their own and seeped into the pieced-together corpses on the ground.

"Get up, guys—we're not done yet."

The black magician's voice was weary.

Then, something truly terrifying happened.

The mangled corpses began to twitch, the broken bones creaked and rejoined, and the rotten and broken sutures were covered by a dull membrane.

A few seconds later, they all opened their eyes. Their eyes were cloudy, and a faint dark red light flickered deep in their pupils. Then, the villagers stiffly got up, silently picked up their weapons, and walked out of the church at the command of the black magician.

"call----"

The dark mage, having resurrected the minions, wiped non-existent sweat from his brow, his pained expression becoming even more pronounced.

"Damn it—resurrecting these 'bodies' doesn't require many dark magic materials, the key is—"

His gaze swept over the spot where the bodies had been lying, especially the scattered ammunition boxes and several rifles that looked expensive, and he clenched his teeth.

"The key is these guns! These bullets! I bought them all from the black market with my own hard-earned money! The company uses standard-issue rifles, the National Guard has heavy weaponry, and those monsters' claws are harder than alloy! My savings are dwindling—after a month, my money and my stockpiled rare materials are almost gone! FCK!!!"

The dark sorcerer grew angrier as he spoke, and then couldn't help but kick the altar again.

But these weren't the things that truly broke his heart.

"No, that's not right! The most troublesome thing now is—the thing Derek summoned!" The source of everything—

That damn black cat! Where did it go?!