Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 505 You stinking outsider, you've come to our city of disaster to beg for food!? (Two chapters combined) 6K

Flames shot into the air, swirling into sparks in mid-air.

Why don't you go up and sing?

"You seem to be good at, uh, I mean, you should be good at the bold and unrestrained type."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron glanced at the official pirates gathered around the campfire, then turned his head to look at Alger Wilson, whose dark blue hair was disheveled like seaweed.

"Well……"

Alger stood there, stunned, and surprisingly blushed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly with his right hand.

Well, judging from this, it's another one who can't sing...

The blond boy rolled his eyes inwardly, then scoffed mockingly:

"Then how would you portray the Ocean Singer?"

"Be careful not to end up looking like a deep-sea mud monster, you know, the kind that makes weird noises!"

"Hahaha……"

Alger Wilson's eye twitched, as if he were seeing Ron for the first time, and he secretly sized up the deity once more.

"I never expected a god to act like hunters on the sea. Shouldn't powerful beings of this level be like Mr. 'The Fool'?"

"If it weren't for His strength and achievements, and the approval of Mr. Fool, I certainly wouldn't believe that the world could be so absurd..."

As his mind raced, he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder and realized that the blond-haired, blond-eyed boy had stood up.

"Let's go, don't waste time, take me to see where the danger is."

"They won't find out."

Ron pointed to the pirates who were either preparing food or singing loudly, and with his slender body, he lifted up a muscular, strong man.

Alger felt a sudden weightlessness and was about to struggle instinctively, but the next second, his feet touched the solid deck.

"Come with me."

With a slightly uneasy glance at the crew and sailors, and seeing that they ignored the noise they had just made, "The Hanged Man" was relieved and led Ron into the cabin.

Today, perhaps we can witness the wisdom and authority of the gods...

After climbing a few steps, Alger Wilson felt a growing sense of anticipation.

This is not something that ordinary people can see.

Even the Pope of the Church of Storms rarely witnesses miracles from the Lord of Storms!

The Pope can't see it, but I can; I'm more powerful than the Pope.

"That's it!"

After walking for several minutes, going up and down many steps, the two finally arrived at a passageway without candlelight.

The corridor floor was covered in dust, and all the doors were locked with chains, so it seemed that few people came here.

No, it's more likely that no one would ever come to such a gloomy and dark place!

This silent, desolate, and eerie atmosphere always unconsciously reminds one of the ship beneath their feet—a ghost ship originating from the Fourth Age.

This ship does not require repair by craftsmen or human piloting.

Therefore, it's hard not to suspect that unseen ancient spirits are navigating the ships and repairing the damaged hulls.

The dwelling places of those ghosts are likely within these rooms sealed off by chains.

bang bang bang...

Suddenly, a series of loud bangings on the door began, and at the same time, Alger heard the distinct sound of footsteps.

Patches of blood-like rust covered the entire corridor, upon which countless irregular footprints appeared.

The change came so suddenly that it even made Alger's heart tremble.

"who!?"

He crossed his legs in quick succession and retreated swiftly behind Ron.

The scene at that moment looked so ridiculous.

A muscular, pale-faced man hid behind a boy.

This is truly a visually striking contrast.

"This has never happened before; it's like something's come!"

Alger Wilson said urgently, because the footsteps beside him were getting closer and closer...

Soon, it jumped behind him.

Behind me! ?

His hair stood on end, and he was about to summon a whirlwind, but someone was faster than him.

A hand, as white as jade, appeared, moving faster than anything else, and forcefully grabbed a wisp of invisible air.

He then squeezed hard, and with a snap, the footsteps behind Alger completely disappeared.

Who exactly is the truly bizarre and terrifying anomaly...?

Alger Wilson was stunned. He never expected that a strange, shapeless monster would be strangled to death by Ron with just one hand!

Is this some kind of crazy thing to do?!

"It's gone now."

Ron withdrew his hand and reminded him.

there is none left?

The Hanged Man hadn't reacted yet; upon hearing this, he instinctively looked around.

Those patches of blood-red rust and messy footprints had disappeared from the cabin at some point!

How is this possible? Could there be a cowardly, bullying-the-weak logic within the very instincts of such a bizarre and terrifying monster?!

Staring blankly at Ron, Alger's thoughts raced as he tried to guess what the god would do next and what profound meaning lay behind it.

Perhaps, they should use their authority to reinforce the seal and then study it slowly, or perhaps they should use their divine status to forcibly crush and disperse the danger...

But before he could finish thinking, he saw the boy with the ponytail stride forward, randomly pick the nearest room, kick open the tightly closed door, and enter like a pirate encountering a beautiful lady, before slamming the door shut behind him.

Bang—click.

They even locked it from the inside.

???

Shouldn't we first investigate and analyze the situation carefully before making a targeted plan?

Are you the "sailor" or am I the "sailor"?

Alger Wilson stood there, unable to recover for a long time, until finally he took a deep breath and stepped back to a greater distance, his eyes fixed on the door that Ron had just forcefully opened and then tightly closed.

……

The room was covered in dust, and its interior decorations had long since decayed; a light touch would turn it into a pile of collapsed ashes.

Ron looked around and found the room to be quite secluded.

It was dark and gloomy, with extremely simple interior furnishings. The floorboards creaked underfoot, making it even less comfortable than the second-class cabins on the White Agate.

However, these clues, which would be very thought-provoking for ordinary people, were not worth Ron's attention.

He strode forward and found a full-length mirror reflecting a slightly flushed red.

The mirror has an old-fashioned border frame, clearly a product of a bygone era.

A few rays of crimson moonlight shone through the dirty round windows into the dark, enclosed cabin.

Da da da—

In the dim environment, in the enclosed space, it seemed as if footsteps were rapidly approaching.

Just as the blond boy was about to look around, he discovered that an invisible force was hindering his movements.

If he dares to turn his head, his neck will be completely broken!

Click.

A bizarre cracking sound, accompanied by a series of gasps, suddenly echoed through the room, even causing the hurried footsteps behind Ron to pause momentarily, startling him so much that he took a half-step back!

The blond boy's head was turned 180 degrees backward, with only a thin layer of skin connecting his neck and head.

Its head drooped upside down on its back, and countless drops of blood and a strong, eerie pollution sprayed from the laceration.

In that instant, everything around seemed to fall into nothingness, and wherever the divine blood passed, golden radiance permeated the air.

The distortion and pollution originating from the spiritual realm caused the reality within the room to rapidly change.

The divine blood on the ground writhed and transformed into various strange, indescribable, incomprehensible, and paradoxical things. They quickly intertwined and combined, instantly turning the room into a distorted and bizarre space-time.

There were eyes connected by nerves, countless black-haired arthropods, and bizarre monsters growing from the earth. Some looked like cows but had human faces; some were ordinary boxes filled with flesh and entrails as if they were alive; and others were giants countless meters tall, their bodies covered with pustules of all sizes, inside which seemed to be gestating planets of flesh and blood and burning spiky balls.

"Want your head?"

Suddenly, Ron, whose head was hanging upside down on his back, asked with a smile.

Then he bent his arm backward, bone spurs protruding from his elbow, and with a twisted angle that no human could possibly do, he ripped off his own head and threw it over.

The invisible footsteps seemed to be dumbfounded. Through the only mirror that remained in the bizarre room, Ron could clearly see a headless body standing frozen in place.

His joints seemed to be glued shut, and he dared not move at all, only letting Ron's head rest gently on his broken neck, biting down so tightly that there was no gap.

For beings at Ron's level, the form of life is no longer confined to the physical body. A "true god" will die if his head is removed, but an "Old One" will not. As long as their characteristics and authority are not lost, no amount of physical injury matters.

Because the extraordinary is immortal, just like the countless puppets of the "Lord of Mysteries," if its characteristics are recovered in time, then it is not considered a loss.

To be honest, Mr. Ron is capable of any kind of play, whether it's a small whip, pepper spray, or a thick candle, he'll stuff it in as much as possible if it's not full.

Hehehe.

The sound of air leaking from the neck came again. The headless corpse, controlled by something, seemed to want to make a final struggle, but in just an instant, it was completely consumed by the boy's head.

"That's terrifying."

The blond boy rubbed his head, muttered something under his breath, and then went to his own body and poked at his exposed trachea.

How to put it? The suction is quite strong, it feels itchy, warm, and moisturizing.

People should at least not, and cannot

With a stiff twitch of his lips, the boy manipulated his body to pass over his own and arrive in front of the full-length mirror.

He took a step, and just like that, he stepped inside, heading to another world.

To infiltrate, one needs some unique methods; he's not a dead ghost who can find loopholes in everything.

If we really have to compare them, Ron and the "Primordial Creator" are both the type who are incredibly strong and can fly like bricks, and are invincible in a head-on confrontation. But when it comes to the bizarre, the "Lord of Mysteries" is the one to take the crown.

The fog, like a hazy dream, obscured the surrounding crimson. Ron remained in freefall, forced to control his body and cover his head with his hands to prevent his head from falling off.

Suddenly, a look of surprise flashed across the golden eyes as they realized they had found themselves in a strange city.

A city ravaged by disaster!

When Ron first saw the blood-like rust, he sensed the scent of this source substance, but

"That wrecked ship is actually connected directly to the city of disaster!?"

"At first I thought there would be a transit point, but I really didn't expect to be able to sneak in so easily."

The blond boy turned his head 360 degrees, curiously looking around, and finally confirmed that the city shrouded in deep red sky was exactly the same as the one he had seen in Bansi Port.

"interesting."

Ron muttered something to himself, then walked out of the secluded alley and onto the main street paved with stone slabs.

Contrary to Ron's expectations, the "City of Calamity" was not as deserted as the "Wilderness of Knowledge"; on the contrary, it was quite lively in some ways.

One after another, two-wheeled vehicles pulled by human power drove past the boy, while in the middle of the road, a huge thing, like a steam train, was slowly moving forward on the tracks.

Ron wasn't illiterate; on the contrary, as an omniscient being, he immediately recognized what these two modes of transportation, with their distinct styles from those of the Northern Continent, were.

"Rickshaws, trams, and wow, even cars! Wow!"

While marveling at these things that were full of the characteristics of the era, the golden eyes moved away and looked at the swaying figures walking on the street.

Ron was initially puzzled by the existence of "citizens" within the "City of Calamity".

However, when he thought about the characteristics of the "Hunter" method of forming a legion, and the "Witch's" habit of always throwing silver parties, he felt relieved and stopped having doubts.

If no one lives in a "city of disaster," can it still be called a "city"?

"Yuanbao" also has the function of keeping the secret couple fresh so they don't completely spoil!

"That does fit, but where did these people come from? Are they from the previous era? Or are they people from the Western Continent who were corrupted by the source matter?"

His gaze swept over the monster dressed in a cheongsam, holding a round fan, with swollen limbs oozing pus, and the blond boy gave up on investigating it.

It doesn't matter where they come from, as long as they ultimately achieve their goal.

Ron rubbed his head to make himself appear more normal, then manipulated his body to emerge from the shadows, attempting to find a powerful figure in this "City of Calamity" similar to a "Celestial Master" for friendly negotiations.

"Stop right there, you damn out-of-town bastard, here to beg for food?!"

Just then, a muffled, hoarse voice, as if it were filled with phlegm, came from behind Ron. The voice was so unclear that it was only thanks to the boy's omniscience that they were able to understand each other.

beggar!?

Suddenly, Ron recalled the time when he first entered Backlund.

"Where did this stinky-footed patrolman come from? You're the beggar!"

The blond boy turned his head 180 degrees and saw a dark blue-gray zombie dressed in black, like a uniform, behind him. Ron quickly put himself in the shoes of a local and cursed back.

Behind him, the zombie's face was mostly rotten, with insects crawling in and out, but this seemingly somewhat rational creature was oblivious, like a human wearing a monster's skin.

When the zombie sheriff saw that Ron's head could turn 180 degrees, his entire attitude changed 180 degrees as well.

"Excuse me, sir, I thought you were an outsider. Today is the mayoral election, and we absolutely cannot let outsiders in."

See, that's politeness!

"From outside?"

Ron asked, puzzled, following up on the conversation.

In this godforsaken place, besides Ron Sothos, who else could be there?

"Yes, every mayoral election, there are always outsiders who come from nowhere to cause trouble. They are very abnormal; even their complexion is not the healthy bluish-black color."

At this point, the zombie stopped speaking in a muffled voice filled with phlegm, and glanced meaningfully at Ron's head.

A mayoral election? You guys are doing this? What are you doing here? Is this still the source material?!

Upon hearing this, the boy's lips twitched slightly, and he immediately took off his head and kicked it around like a ball for a while, which startled the security guard so much that his face turned a little red.

"Can we confirm now whether I'm from out of town?"

The headless body held its head and asked in a muffled voice.

"Yes, yes, that's confirmed. None of the locals are as strange as you."

The zombie in uniform turned and left, jumping around as if it had encountered some kind of mentally ill person.

"."

Seeing this, the great and boundless wisdom was speechless for a moment, never expecting that he would be disliked by a strange living corpse.

"What a strange place, a strange city. Maybe I need to change my perspective."

In Ron's view, it was perfectly justifiable to exclude outsiders, and even hunt them down. Any source material was incompatible with extraordinary beings who did not follow the proper means. Even the "true gods" at the very top of the single sequence had to be corrupted before they could be accepted by later generations.

However, their xenophobia, not only towards outsiders but also towards insiders, is quite strange among all the source beings.

"The behavior of people here is inevitably influenced by the source matter, so perhaps it can be seen as something like a rule. Those so-called 'outsiders' may be humans from the Western Continent who have gained power through the blessings of the source matter."

"But why?"

Among all the source materials, the "City of Calamity" is the most active.

Not only did it take root in Bansi Harbor, but it also polluted Medici during the Quaternary period, and judging from the condition of this ship, it also seems to be related to the Tudor Empire.

As for the primordial witch and the blood emperor sleeping together, besides the bearded man's influence, it was most likely also related to this primal essence.

In a flash of thought, Ron manipulated his body to raise his head high, secretly scanning the entire city.

After a while, he frowned slightly, as if he had discovered something.

"Tsk, this source material seems to be very active. Is it choosing a master for itself?"

"We can't underestimate anyone. Why do I believe that only the 'Dead Ghost' and the 'Primordial One' have prepared a backup plan for resurrection, while the other Ancients are completely unprepared?"

"This might be the response of the previous 'Root of Calamity,' selecting suitable individuals who fit the characteristics of twisted contradictions, just like the row of cured meats on Source Castle."

"So becoming mayor means taking control of the disaster-stricken city? Isn't that a bit too easy?"

As Ron pondered, he suddenly noticed that the crowd on the street quickened their pace, with pedestrians, cars, bicycles, and rickshaws all heading in one direction.

The mayoral election has begun!

Upon seeing this, the blond boy waved and got into a rickshaw. He adjusted his head and sat elegantly in the rickshaw, intending to join in the fun.

"Get off! All you stinking men, get off the stage! Only women can run for mayor!"

"Pah! You filthy woman, what kind of trash are you? If it weren't for our men's patrol team, you would have been sold into a brothel long ago!"

"That's unfair talk. Women's rights are everyone's rights, and everyone has a duty to protect them. What right do you, you despicable man, have to prevent us women from running for office?!"

A swollen, pus-filled corpse, holding a round fan and whose gender was indistinguishable, charged aggressively towards a monster with distinctly male features. She slapped the male zombie hard across the face, nearly tearing off his jawbone.

The male zombie was also quite unusual; he looked at his comrades behind him as if he had gained some kind of power.

With a light push off the ground, he lunged forward and unleashed a fist reeking of rust, nearly ripping open the bloated female zombie.

"I work from 8 AM!"

"How dare you insult women?!"

The battle between the two monsters acted as a fuse, plunging the election site into chaos. Men and women alike had bloodshot eyes and started fighting at the slightest provocation.

Frost and fire, disease and natural disasters followed one after another. Even the rotting corpses who were preparing their speeches for the mayoral election could not suppress their instinctive twisting and tearing each other's bodies apart.

For thousands of years, through hundreds of elections, it's always been this kind of chaos. Since no one's going to die anyway, why should those stinking men/women become mayors?!

This contradiction seems to originate from the deepest level of the source, making the awkwardness and distortion more concrete.

As soon as Ron arrived, before he could even pay, he saw the rickshaw driver quickly join the fray, leaving him dumbfounded.

He stroked his chin, glanced at the chaotic scene, and finally shifted his gaze to the megaphone in front of the podium.

"Stop fighting!"

The blond boy jogged to the podium and shouted.

The megaphone worked remarkably well. Ron's loud roar revealed a certain level of authority, sending a chill through the grappling monsters who quickly broke free from their fight and turned their attention to Ron on the podium.

The boy cleared his throat and waved his hand, saying:

"Today I'm going to be mayor. Who's in favor? Who's opposed?"

As soon as he finished speaking, it aroused public indignation, and the citizens below the stage all bared their teeth and shouted in unison.

"Stop talking nonsense, are you a man or a woman?"

"If you're a woman/man, get off the stage right now!!!"

Upon hearing this, the blond boy sneered and pulled down his pants.

There were swords, spears, halberds, axes, hooks, forks, maces, clubs, whips, maces, hammers, claws, crutches, and meteor hammers—weapons with points, blades, cords, chains, barbed hooks, and even daggers. There was also an armed helicopter and a shopping bag.

In an instant, the scene fell silent!

With a gun and a hole in it, how can you tell if I'm male or female?

When it comes to being perverted, even "City of Calamity" has to take a backseat!

(End of this chapter)