Lucky billion players, you've never seen one before / I can accumulate my own luck

"There's a ghost!" Dodd shouted, pointing to a room not far away. "Is there a ghost in there?"

"Uh... a ghost?"

The player who asked the question was clearly taken aback for a moment, then asked again, "What does a ghost look like?"

"One has no head, and the other's body is a mangled mess," Dud said anxiously. "Protect me and get me out of here first!"

"Don't rush, boss."

The player continued, "Do I look like a ghost?"

"..."

Dud's body stiffened, like a puppet, and he turned his head stiffly to look at the player who had asked the question.

Before anyone knew it, the other person had transformed into a pale-faced young man.

The young man had two bloody holes in his eyes, and blood was seeping from all seven orifices. His chest cavity looked as if it had been forcibly torn open, rolled up to both sides, and his internal organs had been emptied out.

"I can't find my heart, can you give me yours?"

The young man reached out and grabbed at Dud's chest.

Duds let out a terrified scream and scrambled to break free of the young man's support.

However, an even more desperate situation soon followed.

Dud saw that everyone who had been attracted by his shouts, whether players or dignitaries, were rapidly dissolving, emitting a tremendous stench of decay.

The next second, they all turned into mutilated ghosts, each revealing a sinister smile, and kept approaching Dud.

"Where's my head? Where's my head?"

"It hurts, it hurts so much..."

"Don't eat me, don't eat me..."

Various shrill screams and wails echoed throughout the underground space.

This place suddenly transformed from a normal world into a cave overrun by ghosts and monsters.

Several ghosts pressed down on Dodd.

The moment he touched her, the injuries on "them" were transferred to Duds in equal proportion to his pain.

Dud was writhing on the ground in pain, and even coughed up blood.

He struggled to climb out, and while running away, he took out his phone and dialed the official number.

After quickly recounting his ordeal, he ran towards the room he had left earlier.

Upon arriving at the room, he rushed inside and yelled at the scantily clad woman who was still there, "Get out! Get out of here!"

At this moment, he could no longer distinguish between human and ghost.

After kicking the woman, whose face was full of surprise, out, Dud slammed the door shut and locked it.

The next second, he was suddenly stunned and realized that he was no longer in the room.

The pain in my body disappeared.

The bloodstains at the corner of his mouth had also disappeared.

He had somehow returned to the VIP box where Viscount Charles was.

His tall, thin bodyguard was standing beside him.

Viscount Charles frowned, looking at him with displeasure: "What are you doing? I'm talking to you, are you even hearing me?"

"Ah...I...I..."

Dud didn't know how to answer either.

What happened to him just now?

Fell asleep?

Dreaming?

He subconsciously looked around, and everything was the same as before, with no anomalies or ghosts.

The occasional noises around me suggested that all the distinguished guests had arrived.

"I...I think I just fell asleep?"

"I'm not sure," Dodd said in a somewhat uncertain tone.

Upon hearing this, Viscount Charles gave him a strange look and said, "You fell asleep... You were indeed a little disoriented. Didn't you get enough rest last night? You can fall asleep while we're talking?"

"You probably haven't been getting enough rest."

Dud took a deep breath, relaxing his tense nerves and body.

Thank goodness, thank goodness, it was just a dream, just a dream...

This is the reality.

Those were all fake.

After calming down, Dud said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Your Excellency, I just... I had a strange dream just now, and I'm a little confused."

"Get yourself together! You know what will happen if you mess up tonight's party."

After issuing a warning, Viscount Charles asked, "What dream made you so lost in thought?"

"Well... you might not believe it, but I... dreamt that a group of ghosts were chasing me like crazy."

"I can't believe it," Dud said, still shaken.

"Ghosts?" Viscount Charles asked. "Does a ghost... look like this?"

The next second, Viscount Charles's skin and flesh melted away.

Amidst the pervasive stench, the face of a pale-faced girl with a sinister smile came into Dodd's view.

Dudley froze on the spot, his jaw clenching uncontrollably.

BOOM—the girl's head exploded, splattering brain matter all over his body.

Some of it even splashed into his mouth.

"It hurts, it hurts so much..."

"Don't eat me, don't eat me..."

A mournful wail followed.

Dud turned his head stiffly, and the skilled man who was supposed to be his bodyguard had somehow turned into a moving, mangled corpse.

Thud, thud, thud...!

The door to the private room was slammed shut from the outside.

The banging on the door grew louder and louder, as if countless evil spirits were piling up outside, vying to rush in.

despair.

Dodd felt an overwhelming sense of despair.

A devastating despair.

What is real, and what is fake?

Where does the truth begin, and where does the falsehood begin?

He... couldn't tell anymore.

He even doubted whether the world he lived in and his experiences over the years were truly real.

Evolution Game, 004 Division, 001 Division, Roman City, Wayne Street, Underground Boxing Ring, Brother, Sister... are they all just a fleeting dream?

Boom——!

The door was broken.

The pale figures rushed in and pounced on Dodd inside.

They kept making hissing and wailing noises.

A moment later, Dud also cried out in pain, "It hurts!"

"It hurts."

"It hurts……"

……

Fan Xiao frowned, reached out and pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve his fatigue.

"Brother Fan, are you alright?"

"Brother Fan, give me a hug."

"Brother Fan, have some candy..."

A group of little girls surrounded Fan Xiao, pushing Yan Keke to the edge.

The little girl showed a displeased expression.

Once the other little girls had calmed down, she slipped aside to approach Fan Xiao and asked, "Brother Fan, are you feeling alright?"

"It's alright," Fan Xiao smiled at her. "With your help, the consumption is much less than I expected."

"That's good."

Yan Keke smiled – happy for her friends.

People have finally shed the label of only knowing how to eat white rice.

This label was something they actively added to themselves.

Although Fan Xiao didn't care, they had their own sense of self-awareness.

Thankfully, they've finally found a place where they can make a difference.

The large-scale illusion in the underground boxing ring involved too many and too complex illusions; Fan Xiao alone could not materialize it with his mental strength.

Even if one has enough mental strength, being distracted by manipulating so many illusions at the same time is a test of one's energy.

So, Fan Xiao subcontracted the work to them.

The combined mental strength of these 36 people is naturally unmatched by any single individual.

The process of 36 people simultaneously controlling illusions and working together to piece together and construct the illusion is easier and simpler in terms of precision.

Furthermore, as the dungeon level increases, their spiritual bodies also strengthen, and their spiritual power increases; the two are positively correlated.

In other words, they can always be a help to Fan Xiao and will not fall behind.

"Let's go, government-organized players will be here soon."

After reminding Yan Keke and the others, Fan Xiao put on his hat and straightened the collar of his coat.

He did not stop Dud from calling the official organization earlier.

If he wanted to, he could definitely prevent the other party from making the call.

Even the phone call might be filled with comments like, "Does my voice sound like a ghost?"—utterly helpless, with no one to turn to, and the sense of despair is overwhelming.

He didn't do that because he remembered the rules of conduct of the "Born Tribunal" that Tina had taught him before.

The assassination was merely a process, not the goal.

What is the purpose of assassination, and what is the guiding principle? That's the key point.

From this perspective, it was destined that his assassination could not be hidden beneath the surface; he had to make a powerful "voice" out.

Only by speaking out can we create a lasting impact.

It was precisely because he thought of this that he gave up the idea of ​​pretending to be a "punk girl" and shifting the blame to Mammon.

They need to have their own "assassin fame".

Otherwise, everything is fake, and he's as if he doesn't exist, let alone have any impact on society.

Before the government-organized players arrived, Fan Xiao turned and walked away into the distance.

Behind him, a commotion arose from the underground boxing ring in Wayne Street.