My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

Zhang Ying stared intently at the humanoid monster wearing a bird-beak mask in front of him, his mind racing.

Although he had one of Li Ziqing's arms, it was already difficult enough to deal with a half-Bound Spirit level monster, let alone a Bound Spirit level monster.

Moreover, this monster's condition is very strange.

Although the name is followed by the word "pseudonym," the words "smallpox" following "pseudonym" are truly impossible to ignore.

smallpox.

The virus that once ravaged the entire world can truly be called a natural disaster.

Throughout history, it has claimed hundreds of millions of lives and destroyed countless civilizations and city-states. One smallpox patient can infect an entire neighborhood, and an entire neighborhood can wipe out an entire city.

Perhaps the real smallpox killer was a natural disaster.

Although the sickly, dead monster in front of us is just an imposter, it is not to be underestimated.

Zhang Ying noticed that the yin energy that had been floating in the sky and around the houses had become much thinner.

All the yin energy surged towards this sick and dead ghost.

It absorbed the yin energy of the entire town.

Or perhaps, the gloomy atmosphere of the entire town exists because of it.

In either case, it means that the monster in front of us has become one with this dead town.

The sick and dead ghost took a step forward and limped towards Zhang Ying.

Its steps were unsteady, its body swaying from side to side, like a baby who has just learned to walk, or like a terminally ill patient making its last struggle.

With each step it took, its body would shake violently, as if it were about to fall apart at any moment.

Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang retreated simultaneously.

"Back off," Zhang Ying said in a low voice, "It's best not to get close until we know what it will do."

Shen Yugang had wanted to run away for a long time, and upon hearing Zhang Ying's words, he wished he could grow four legs. But his legs wouldn't obey him, and he could only tremble as he moved backward.

Zhang Ying's gaze never left the sick and dead ghost.

Since smallpox is an extinct virus, he had never been vaccinated against smallpox.

Not only him, but Shen Yugang didn't have it either. The vast majority of people in the world today don't have it. Smallpox was eradicated so long ago that, apart from samples preserved in laboratories, the virus has become a term in history books.

But if you get infected here, the terms in history books will become nightmares in real life.

The sick and dead ghost walked out of the house.

The sunlight shone on it, and the bird-beak mask reflected a dull luster.

Shen Yugang hid behind Zhang Ying, clutching the back of Zhang Ying's clothes tightly, curled up into a ball, not daring to breathe. His teeth were chattering, making a soft gurgling sound.

Zhang Ying stared intently at the Sick Death Ghost in front of him, raising his ghostly hand, ready to unleash his ghostly domain to deal with its attacks.

The tip of his fingertip glowed with a faint dark red light. Blood slowly condensed on his wrist, waiting to pour out at his whim.

The disease-induced death has taken another step forward.

Then the second step.

third step.

It walked with extreme difficulty, each step like wading through mud, its legs weak and its body swaying forward and backward.

When it took the fourth step, its left foot tripped over its right foot, and its whole body leaned forward.

Bang

The sick and dead creature fell to the ground.

That was a hard fall; its body practically fell apart!

An arm detached from the shoulder and rolled half a meter away; a bird-beak mask fell off the face, revealing a grayish-white, featureless face underneath; the torso split in two, its contents spilling onto the ground, black and sticky.

Zhang Ying was stunned for a moment.

This thing will fall apart if you drop it?

But then, the limbs scattered on the ground began to wriggle.

The arm rolled back on its own, attaching itself to the shoulder. After wriggling a few times at the joint, it returned to its original position. The two halves of the torso closed together, the crack shut like a zipper.

The bird-beak mask floated up from the ground and reappeared on the blank face.

It stood up again.

The diseased and dead ghost is like a fleshy ball that is terminally ill, its body weak and about to fall apart at any moment.

It stood there, its body still trembling slightly, like a patient with a persistent high fever, struggling even to stand upright.

But Zhang Ying did not underestimate it because of this.

For every step the sick and dead take forward, he takes a step back.

The distance between the two remained at about ten meters. For every step the ill-fated ghost took, Zhang Ying took a step back.

The sick and dead ghost fell down again, but got up again.

With each fall and rise, the sickly ghost's steps gradually became steady. Its legs no longer felt weak, its body no longer swayed, and each step became increasingly firm.

It is adapting to this body.

Zhang Ying noticed this and frowned deeply.

The sickly, deadly creature took a few more steps, and this time, it stood firmly. It straightened its back, its body no longer swaying, as if it had finally gained complete control of this body.

Even stranger changes occurred to it.

Its once uneven, tumor-covered body began to become smooth. The bumps and depressions seemed to have been smoothed out by an invisible hand, and the skin changed from grayish-black to a dull pale white, revealing a morbid texture on its surface.

The black fabric, like a plant sprouting, grew simultaneously from its shoulders, chest, and back, extending downwards and fluttering gently in the wind.

A black coat grew out of its body.

Immediately afterwards, a leather hat grew out from the top of its head, with the brim slightly upturned, covering part of the bird beak mask.

In just a few stumbling steps, the Deathly Haunted Creature transformed from an ugly tumor into a bizarre yet elegant medieval bird-beaked doctor.

It stood there, its black coat reaching its ankles, a bird-beak mask beneath its leather hat gleaming coldly, and its dark yellow eyes peering ahead through the mask's eye openings.

She exuded an indescribable eerie beauty.

Zhang Ying swallowed.

If we had acted immediately, while it was still unsteady, it might have been a good opportunity.

But it's too late to say anything now.

That thing had completely taken control of the body, and it seemed to be much stronger than before.

We can only wait and see how to deal with this strange, deadly disease before figuring out a solution.

The sick and dead ghost did not continue forward.

It stood there, its black coat fluttering gently in the still air, as if it had a life of its own. The dark yellow eyes in the mask's eye sockets stared intently at Zhang Ying and his companion, their gaze cold and empty, devoid of any emotion.

Click!

The bird's beak was originally tightly closed, its sharp beak pressed together. But now, it slowly opened, the upper and lower beaks separating to reveal the dark, gaping mouth inside.

A thick cloud of yin energy spewed out from that mouth.

The black air currents condensed into a single stream, drawing a straight trajectory in mid-air. Wherever it passed, the air became viscous, and the sunlight seemed to be sucked away.

The yin energy rushed straight towards Zhang Ying and Shen Yugang.

This ominous aura gave Zhang Ying a very uneasy feeling.

It wasn't just cold, it wasn't just oppression, but a nausea and fear that surged from the very core of my being.

He reacted immediately.

The cunning hand rose, and blood poured out from the ball joint of the wrist, spreading out at the feet.

The area within a ten-meter radius was instantly covered by the blood spilled from the ghost's hand. The red liquid spread across the ground like a thin carpet, covering the yellow soil and gravel, as well as the withered grass and pebbles.

The realm of the uncanny unfolds.

Zhang Ying suddenly waved his hand, manipulating the blood on the ground to resist the attacking Yin energy.

Blood rose from the ground, forming a red wall that blocked Zhang Ying from the dead ghost.

The yin energy crashed against the blood wall, making a hissing sound, as if something was being burned.

He controlled his blood to envelop the yin energy.

The blood, enveloped in yin energy, began to boil.

Bubbles rose from the surface of the blood wall, densely packed, making soft popping sounds as they burst.

The color of the blood is darkening, from bright red to dark red, and from dark red to almost black.

Zhang Ying sensed that something was wrong.

The blood was gradually slipping out of his control.

The part covered in yin energy seemed infected, becoming sluggish and heavy, no longer obeying his commands. He tried to dismantle the blood again, but the power seemed to be stuck by something, unable to move.

We can't delay any longer.

Zhang Ying gritted his teeth and forcibly condensed the blood that was wrapped in yin energy.

The blood churned and compressed in mid-air, condensing into a slender blade of energy. The blade was dark red, with black light emanating from its edges, the struggle of the Yin energy contained within.

He swung his arm violently.

The crimson blade of energy slashed towards the sick and dead monster.

The blade of energy shot through the air at incredible speed, leaving a dark red afterimage in mid-air. The Sickly Ghost neither dodged nor avoided it, simply standing there, as if it hadn't seen the blade of energy at all, or as if it didn't care at all.

The air blade struck the body of the sick and dead ghost.

laugh--

The black coat was slashed open, and a deep cut appeared on the torso of the morbidly dead monster, running from the left shoulder to the right rib.

The skin and flesh on both sides of the incision rolled back, revealing the bones and internal organs underneath.

The bloody wound contained no bright red blood, only dark gray mucus.

The mucus writhed at the edges of the wound, as if trying to reconnect the severed tissue.

Zhang Ying noticed that the blood tainted with yin energy began to take effect after entering the body of the diseased and dead ghost.

At the edge of the wound, which had been ravaged by the disease, dense red rashes and pustules began to appear.

The red rashes spread visibly across the body of the morbidly ill, radiating outwards from the wounds, climbing up the chest to the shoulders, and extending downwards along the abdomen. Pustules swelled, burst, oozing a pale yellow fluid, and then new pustules appeared.

The symptoms of smallpox spread extremely rapidly on the surface of the disease.

But the spread did not last long.

The rashes and pustules spread to a certain extent, then suddenly stopped.

The body, which had been dying from the disease, gradually adapted to these lesions. The rashes and pustules stopped spreading and instead began to fade away at an extremely rapid pace, disappearing from the skin's surface as if they had never existed.

Immediately afterwards, the wounds that had been slashed open by the blood-red energy blades began to heal.

The skin and flesh on both sides of the wound healed together, and the black coat that had been cut open was also stitched up together, perfectly.

The demon that died of illness returned to its original state, as if it had never been struck.

Zhang Ying stared intently at the demon of illness, his brows furrowed.

For some reason, he felt that the aura emanating from the sickly, dead ghost in front of him was even stronger than before.

Perhaps it's not just my imagination.

It's getting stronger!

With each attack and each repair, it becomes a little stronger than before!