Player Reload
Chapter 426 - 394: Orange Agent

Chapter 426: Chapter 394: Orange Agent

The original weight of nearly a ton of Gray Rain, under the influence of the [Floating Engine], easily defied gravity and hovered lightly in the air.

Li Cheng held Gray Rain’s ankle, and the two floated down to the ground like dandelions.

Fuding Hualong temporarily drew a parachute, strapped it on, and landed on the ground. Meanwhile, the Red Driver rode Pidgeot down to the surface.

As for the White Horse Tombstone, she first threw the Stone Coffin down from the 24th floor and then leapt after it, producing a huge crater in the middle of the road with a "boom."

Smoke filled the air, she casually dusted off her armor and walked out of the pit, turning to glance at the ground floor of the tall building.

The Canadian lawyer Gary Hoy, whose cause of death was abstract, lay on the cement floor, resting on the shattered glass of a floor-to-ceiling window.

The glass was shattered into shards, but the metal window frame remained intact.

Gary Hoy lay within the window frame, his eyes wide open in death, blood flowing from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, his face pierced by glass shards. After about ten seconds, his body gradually faded away along with the broken glass.

The ground was so clean as if nothing had ever happened.

Li Cheng raised his hand, signaling the others not to speak, while he himself retrieved a large clock from the warehouse and wound it to calculate the time.

The second and minute hands kept rotating as Gary Hoy once again fell from the 24th floor, crashing to the ground.

"The cycle time for each loop is..."

Li Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly, stopping the timing, "Four minutes and fifty seconds."

"What’s going on? Isn’t this another time loop-type Secret Realm?!"

The Red Driver was instantly stressed. He had literally died fifty times in the battery escort mission, and now the mere mention of a time loop left him numb.

"It’s not a time loop; it’s a repeated replay of a death image."

The highest-level White Horse Tombstone also noticed something and shook her head, patting the stone coffin beside her, which she pushed to the ground in front of the tall building.

Bam!

Gary Hoy once again fell from a great height, dissipated and passed through the coffin, crashing to the ground,

Fuding Hualong took out surveillance equipment, scanned carefully, and gave a definite answer, "He has no physical form or soul fluctuation; it’s indeed just a pre-death image."

Stopping mid-sentence, the confusion on Fuding Hualong’s face didn’t abate; instead, it deepened: "Strangely, Gary Hoy was just an ordinary person in the real world, remembered by a small number due to his bizarre death, insignificant himself.

What purpose does the entity behind the construction of this city have to spend effort replicating his pre-death image?

Considering that even the carpet patterns and computer models of Toronto’s Dominion Building are perfectly replicated, it’s definitely not coincidence."

"Who knows, the battlefield is vast and full of wonders; anything is possible."

Li Cheng shrugged, "Once, by accident, I threw a ton of sodium into the river, and suddenly a Golden River God and a Galaxy God appeared."

???

The river god was blown up and killed, right.

This is just like electrofishing in the city sports center swimming pool.

Fuding Hualong kept a poker face, representing the face of the Special Affairs Bureau, trying his best to control the urge to ridicule,

not questioning why Li Cheng’s clock looked like a heavily-scarred desert-themed woman’s personal use, with the hands even moving in the opposite direction.

"This place isn’t safe; we should move toward the radar direction. The closer we get to the Secret Treasure location, the more likely we’ll encounter other players."

Fuding Hualong said, then took out another scroll and released a flock of birds from the paper, sending them into the black, flocculent "snowstorm" to scout in place of drones.

The black snowstorm greatly reduced visibility, and the group moved along the street, sticking together.

"These buildings, how strange."

Red Driver’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper, as along the street stood buildings like high-rises from Tokyo and Seoul, Southeast Asian stilted thatched houses, Middle Eastern dome-style homes, churches, schools, fire stations.

The slum had similarly mixed, diverse architectural styles, but orderly in chaos. All constructions had to be approved by the community committee beforehand, resulting in an ordered mess with a particular charm.

But the architecture beneath their feet seemed like cut-out pieces from different times, different spaces forcibly stitched together. No aesthetics at all.

Squeak—

The door of a Southeast Asian stilted thatched house creaked open, and in the darkness, a pair of eyes reflected the light.

It belonged to a Southeast Asian woman in her forties, her hair disheveled, skeletal in appearance. A portrait of Ho Chi Minh hung on the wall behind her, with a bowl of dark brown poison at her feet.

She clutched a dead infant with a severely malformed skull in her arms.

No need for vocal reminders; you could infer the era from the house style and furnishings alone.

Location, Vietnam. Time, Vietnam War. Characters, civilians poisoned by the US Army’s deadly Agent Orange.

Like Gary Hoy, this Vietnamese woman was also repeating her pre-death image, drinking poison and committing suicide, with a cycle period of three and a half minutes.

Wait, something isn’t right!

White Horse Tombstone’s eyes narrowed; Gary Hoy cycles every four minutes and fifty seconds, everything reset—people, windows, frames.

While the Vietnamese woman, during her cycle, doesn’t have her thatched house door reset closed but continues to slowly open.

In other words, their behavior patterns differ.

Almost instantly connecting the dots, White Horse Tombstone immediately released a skill, conjuring a soil wall in front of the stilted thatched house door.

Unfortunately, she was a step too late.

The wooden door fully opened, revealing the Vietnamese woman’s twisted face as she raised her head suddenly, her face hidden beneath the tangled hair, shrieking as she dropped the dead infant, running towards the players with all limbs.

With every step she took, her nails grew slightly longer, emitting a sharp whistling sound.

Boom!

A meter-thick rammed earth wall was directly shattered, and the Vietnamese woman, or rather the Evil Ghost, broke through the barrier, charging straight towards Red Driver like a bulldozer.

’Really, I’ve been underestimated.’

Red Driver felt slightly angry; his physical strength was indeed the weakest among the four players present, easiest to break through, but he was a Summoner.

"Primape, use Shadow Punch!"

Following Red Driver’s command, Primape (a monkey-like Pocket Monster with a round body covered in gray fur) threw several punches from a distance. The Shadow Fist Marks ignored distance, directly hitting the Evil Ghost.

As the final evolution of Monkey Monster, Primape possesses attributes of Fighting and Ghost types, causing both physical and spiritual energy damage with its attacks.

The Evil Ghost’s shoulders, neck, ribs, and leg bones shattered, emitting a dense sound akin to popping beans, and both legs were simultaneously fractured,

Yet it continued sprinting at a completely irrational full speed.

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