A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

"Where am I..." Qasim's hoarse voice was filled with confusion.

It's no wonder he would be puzzled if he were suddenly awakened after being dead for over a hundred years.

“You’re awake, Mr. Qasim! This is near your house!” Jonathan exclaimed, gesturing excitedly on the ground of the pit.

"I'm alive?" Kasim looked at his skeletal body shrouded in mist, somewhat shocked.

Isn't it taboo to resurrect the dead?

"No, no, no, I woke up." Honest Jonathan wouldn't lie.

“Use the right words, otherwise you’ll get criticized, Mr. Qasim.”

"Why did you wake me up...?"

"What do I want to do?" Jonathan tilted his head and stood on his cane.

“I don’t have anything in particular I want to do, Mr. Qasim.”

"I just want to help you do what you want to do."

“What do I want to do?” Qasim stretched out his bony hands.

The awakened ghost's soul is in chaos, and its memories are also disordered.

He wanted to speak, but he had no throat to make a sound.

However, even without a throat, the sound still travels out from inside the body.

The sound was like an echo emanating from hollow bones.

“Yes, yes, yes, whatever you want to do in life, you can do now,” Jonathan said loudly, opening his arms wide.

"What I want to do... what I want to do..." Qasim murmured repeatedly, and the black mist grew increasingly violent.

"I want to continue..."

“That’s right… I want to live, to keep living, to be immortal, immortal, immortal…” Qasim began to speak fluently.

Every word he uttered exuded an obsession.

He remembered that he had spent his entire life striving for immortality.

He would use his wife and daughter to achieve his goal.

He transformed his wife into a monster and bound his daughter's life to that of the monster, thus completing his experiment on immortality.

However, no matter what he tried, he could not replicate the miracle that had happened to his daughter.

That's impossible. He's the one who put in the most effort, so why is his daughter the one who benefits?

If he were to discover a way to achieve immortality, he would be remembered for eternity and favored by rulers of all kinds.

“Hey, why don’t we go outside first?” Jonathan pointed upwards; he didn’t want to stay in the mud pit for too long.

As he spoke, he even turned around to check if his tuxedo was wrinkled.

"Whoosh—" Just after Jonathan finished speaking, Kasim rose up like smoke and easily left the mud pit.

The decaying corpse in the coffin was still there, but everything contained within the corpse had been condensed into this ghost.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant magic!" Jonathan couldn't help but applaud after seeing Kasim fly away.

Then he clumsily crawled out using both his hands and feet, not at all graceful.

"It's really not an easy job," Jonathan said, leaning on his cane, looking very tired.

“I want to go to my house…I want to go back…” Qasim said ominously.

“No, Mr. Qasim, calm down a bit.”

“I think the best thing for us to do now is to run away,” Jonathan said, shrugging with a hint of helplessness.

"Why? This is my home, my place."

"That was true over a hundred years ago, but it probably doesn't count now." Jonathan forced a wry smile onto his mask.

“He’s right. This is the young lady’s house now. You’re just a dead man.” A cat-man stood on a tree, looking down at Jonathan and Kasim.

“And what are you…” Kasim roared in a hoarse voice, seemingly looking down on the cat-people.

"What is it?"

“Your 112th test subject.” 112 Axe stood beside him, expressionless. —“I want a good beating.” Of course, Jonathan wouldn’t say something so vulgar.

However, in reality, Jonathan and Kasim were being brutally beaten.

The tiny cat-man wielded an axe larger than himself and scraped Qasim against a tree branch.

Jonathan, who hadn't fought back once, was chased around frantically.

“Sir, using violence is not a good habit.” Jonathan pressed down on his hat and continued to run away.

This won't do; we need to find an opportunity to leave with Qasim.

But that depends on whether the cat-man will give it to him.

"Boom!!!!!!!!!!" The axe cleaved the ground, causing it to crack.

"Ah, the hole I dug!" Jonathan screamed as the mud pit he had painstakingly dug was filled with mud and rocks kicked up by 112.

Although this pit is meaningless now, it was still dug by myself, so I have some sentimental attachment to it.

“I’m just a gatekeeper. It’s normal for me to beat up uninvited guests, isn’t it?” 112 said calmly, and swung his axe at Jonathan.

Jonathan ducked low, barely dodging the attack.

Although 112 can't be called a genius who defies the heavens, he has lived for over a hundred years. As long as he doesn't neglect his practice, his strength won't be too weak.

Moreover, his body is that of a cat-man in his prime, or simply put, at its peak.

With just a little bit of combat talent, 112 would be enough to make him one of the strongest figures in the Central Continent.

"No, no, no, usually we'd just chase them away. Killing them would be too much," Jonathan said, wiping the mud off his mask with some difficulty.

"Killing" uninvited visitors is too violent.

“Experiment…when have I ever had an experiment like you?” Qasim, hanging from a tree branch, said with difficulty.

The fog in Qasim became very ethereal, as if it might be blown away by the wind at any moment.

He had no recollection of having such a violent cat-man among his test subjects.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember, after all, there were hundreds of test subjects,” 112 said in a very flat tone.

There were hundreds of test subjects, and 112 was just one of them.

However, he happened to be picked up by the kind-hearted Angela.

Of the hundreds of test subjects, even those that survived were discarded.

Of all the discarded test subjects, only he was discovered by Lady Angelia.

“More than a hundred years have passed, and it seems you remember nothing.” 112 glanced at Qasim and said coldly.

"What did you say? More than a hundred years?" Although his expression was unreadable, Qasim's tone was at least one of surprise.

“That’s right, more than a hundred years have passed, Mr. Qasim,” Jonathan added.

"Over a hundred years!? How could you still be alive?"

“But that’s the truth.” After thinking for a moment, 112 decided to give up on the troublesome Jonathan and head straight for Kasim.

First, we must execute Qasim, who has somehow "come back to life."

"impossible!"

If 112 wasn't lying to him, it means this cat-man has lived for over a hundred years.

The failed attempts should all be those that couldn't become immortal, so why did this cat-person survive?!

"Why! Why!!!!" Kasim screamed hoarsely. He could only resign himself to lying in the coffin. Why was this cat-man able to live until now?

"Why don't you ask yourself?" With that, the huge axe cleaved Qasim in two.

"Ah...oh no, he's been split in two." Jonathan stared in disbelief at Kasim, who had been split in two.

That was quite a beating.

“However, sir, your biggest mistake is ignoring me,” Jonathan said, spreading his hands to 112, who had his back to him.

Of course, he wasn't planning on a sneak attack or anything like that.

He said from the beginning that the first thing to do was to make a runaway.

Jonathan clapped his hands, and the split Qasim reformed and was then sucked into one of Jonathan's thermos flasks.

"What have you done to me?!" came Qasim's furious voice from inside the thermos.

“I had a hard time saving you, Mr. Kasim, please calm down a bit,” Jonathan said helplessly.

Jonathan didn't particularly like people who were so easily angered.

He likes people who can speak properly, especially those who will listen to his nonsense.

After all, he's a chatterbox, and his biggest hobby is rambling on and on.

“It seems we can’t beat this cat-man, Mr. Qasim.”

"Any good ideas?" Jonathan asked Kasim, who was inside the thermos, while dodging 112's attacks.

"Run first." In stark contrast to his previous rage, Qasim uttered an extremely cowardly line.

"We'll make a long-term plan after we leave."

“All I need is to find the opportunity to find my beloved wife,” Qasim said somberly.

At present, it seems very unrealistic to try to cross 112 to enter the old house.

But Qasim still insisted on going in, because he wanted to find his most perfect test subject.

Of course, he also wanted to know why 112 was able to live forever. If he had known back then, he wouldn't have been buried in a coffin.

"That's great!" Jonathan was overjoyed when he heard Kasim say he was going to run away.

"If they keep fighting, my hat will be ripped open." He touched the torn brim of his hat with heartache.

“State all your purposes.” 112 The axe slammed heavily onto the ground with a loud thud.

"No, no, if you force me to confess, I'll tell you everything." Jonathan shook his head frantically.

He's so honest, he'd be in deep trouble if he were forced to confess.

"So, Mr. Catman, Mr. Catman, I'll take my leave now." Jonathan bowed.

The next moment, Jonathan jumped into the air and flew away like a missile with a "whoosh".

Jonathan held his hat in one hand, had put the thermos somewhere, and was holding his cane in the other, his whole body tracing an arc in the air.

112 froze on the spot, dragging the axe on the ground, unable to lift it for a long time.

"This guy..." Jonathan was running away like this, and even if 112 wanted to chase him, he couldn't catch up.

He had never heard of escaping in this way before. Was this even considered flying?

He glanced back at the old house, but ultimately decided to continue guarding the gate.

Miss Angelia is among them, and he cannot abandon his duty as her guard.

However, 112 was struggling with another matter at this moment—whether or not to tell Angelia about it.

Telling Miss Angelia would definitely make her feel depressed.

However, if we don't say anything, things will get even worse when Kasim actually appears in front of Miss Angelia.

“Miss Angelia…” 112 truly felt that this young lady’s life was full of misfortune.

I really wish I could help her more. "Gurgle, gurgle—" On Clinton Street, some swaying figures made strange noises.

These figures were originally normal people.

Now, even if these figures are wearing clothes or armor, they can no longer be considered human.

Their bodies were covered with thorns and roses, and the blooming roses kept shaking off their petals.

After the petals fall to the ground, they increase in value rapidly, becoming a strange thing that resembles a flower but cannot be called a flower.

The plant's roots completely enveloped the person, leaving only their hands and feet exposed for movement.