Fresh scent of earth and flowers...
Li Ang opened his eyes and glanced around.
This was roughly a wasteland; underfoot was brownish-yellow soil with scattered, indistinguishable weeds and wildflowers growing sparsely,
A hundred ters ahead lay a lush forest, while two hundred ters behind on the plain stood nurous stone monunts.
The surfaces of those monunts were pitch black, with varying heights and shapes. Even the smallest monunt had a part exposed above ground asuring three ters high and one ter wide.
The side of each monunt facing Li Ang was etched with unique golden lines, appearing both like calligraphic script and so unknown patterns.
Naturally, the most notable feature of the monunts was their bases—distinct from the common Bixi mythical creature bases (one of the nine sons of the dragon, also known as Baxia, resembling a turtle, carrying a monunt).
Instead, they were vivid stone statues of grotesque, twisted-limb entities.
All the stone-carved creatures seed to have erged from the darkest, most horrifying nightmares, with grim faces, silently screaming, seemingly trying to break free from the eternal suppression of the monunt.
The monunts were spaced a standard thirty ters apart, forming a fragnted line that divided the wasteland into two halves.
The gentle sunlight streaming down from the elevated sun pierced through the drifting clouds, shining upon the cold, smooth, pitch-black surfaces of the monunts, oddly instilling a chill deep within.
Of course, these details were temporarily unimportant...
Li Ang turned his head to observe the other figures standing on the sa wasteland.
A tall man, wearing a brown coat, holding an open book in his hands;
A robust, athletic, suit-wearing young blond man with sharply defined features;
A red-haired female pirate with a long knife at her waist;
A young man piloting a humanoid ch;
A woman holding a longbow, a quiver at her waist, wearing a mask that covered only the upper half of her face;
Uh-oh.
The several individuals scattered across the wasteland exchanged glances, clearly reading this sentint in each other's eyes.
Hoenhem from the Bell Tower, David, Amber, Ding Zhensi, Liu Wu Dai, and Li Ang donned in the dragon head white lab coat.
The six players appearing in this script task were indeed all strong contenders who survived to the end and lived through the door contest war.
According to the common logic where task difficulty is influenced by player count, level, and strength, this task's difficulty might not be optimistic.
The most crucial issue was the system's prompt sound hadn't chid; the task's objectives, form, whether the players here were allies or foes, were all without instruction...
The six players, faintly forming a hexagon, scrutinized each other in silence until David broke the stillness.
"Uh..."
The blond youth from the FBI's Special Affairs Departnt, previously ranked tenth on the personal power leaderboard, scanned around with a soft smile, saying warmly, "It's been a while, everyone."
"Mm." Hoenhem, appearing as an ordinary college professor, nodded lightly, wearing a mild and approachable friendly smile.
Ding Zhensi nervously licked his lips—
Among the six present, Hoenhem was previously second only to Cold Waterstone on the personal power leaderboard, while David, Amber, and others had showcased exaggerated destructive power during the latter stages of the door contest war.
Despite Ding Zhensi's Kui Ox cha undergoing a complete upgrade post-door contest war, with many extra components added,
amongst this group, he still felt a sense of sheep among wolves.
Of course, there were also these two...
Ding Zhensi's gaze shifted to Liu Wu Dai and Li Ang.
The forr needs little ntion, a Liu family heiress, an external officer of the Special Affairs Bureau.
While the latter, in a certain sense, was also an old friend of the Special Affairs Bureau, personally ending the domineering Qing Qiuhu during the last door contest war, possessing both strength and strategy, highly regarded by the Special Affairs Bureau's intelligence analysis departnt...
"Why are you all looking at
with those eyes?"
Li Ang, wearing an inexplicably perplexed expression, asked, "Has my handsoness burned your eyes like light?"
You have a black stocking over your head in the mouth of a dragon head mask. We can't even see your face, where's the talk of handsoness, seriously.
Ding Zhensi resisted the urge to retort, maneuvering the Kui Ox cha to raise an arm and point at Li Ang, "Brother Li, your chair..."
"Getting older ans having a bad back, sit when you can, lie down when you can, any problems with that?"
Li Ang, having sohow taken out a chestnut-colored, front-and-back rocking style senior citizen rattan recliner from the sodium ring, lay upon it, speaking solemnly: "Young people like you who lack life experience won't understand how to care for your waist now; when you're old, you'll have back pain, shoulder pain, neck pain that a posture corrector won't fix."
Wasn't that posture corrector proven to be a scam long ago? Why did you take out an umbrella and sunscreen too? Just because the sun is nice doesn't an you should sunbathe here!
Ding Zhensi internally unleashed a flurry of complaints, yet externally emitting an awkward yet polite laugh.
The cockpit of the Kui Ox cha was light-insulated, but upon completing the teleport and seeing other familiar players nearby, Ding Zhensi opted to activate the optical camouflage feature on the Kui Ox cha's exterior,
letting Li Ang and Liu Wu Dai see his appearance, signaling his identity—Li Rising and Liu Wu Dai had good relations with the Special Affairs Bureau, forming potentially tighter alliances in this script task.
"Haha,"
Hoenhem, holding the Book of Sand, glanced at Li Ang, rocking back and forth on the rattan recliner, cheerfully remarked, "Since the system prompt hasn't chid, and we don't know whether others are enemies or allies, might as well wait in leisure."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across David and others, slowly saying, "Have you felt it? The malice of this world."
Malice? What malice?
Ding Zhensi's mind surfaced with confusion,
only to see Amber lazily nodding, David softly responding with a nod, his brows furrowed, expression grave.
Apparently noticing Ding Zhensi's puzzlent, Liu Wu Dai placed a hand over the longbow and said calmly, "The recovery speed of spiritual power has slowed."
"Hm?"
Ding Zhensi's heart stirred; as a qualified person specialized in combat ch vehicle piloting, his spiritual power limit wasn't high, rely sufficient to use so practical low-level skills,
but the upgraded Kui Ox cha cockpit could monitor his various physiological indicators through electrode patches inside the load-bearing battle suit,
including natural recovery speed of spiritual power.
"How is the recovery rate just a tenth of what it was?"
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