"Crack, crack..."
The strange sound of gravel rubbing and colliding beca especially eerie within the unique structure of the sewer, and following closely behind, a large chunk of brick suddenly fell from the wall.
Although he couldn’t see the sunlight, and all he saw was the faintly stinking sewer, Feng Xue, who had agilely squeezed through the narrow opening, nonetheless felt the sweet scent of freedom.
Slithering out of the hole like an eel, Feng Xue deftly flipped in mid-air and landed smoothly on the ground.
Even without his assassin’s suit, he had undertaken considerable assassin training, not to ntion the Leap of Faith. Such postural adjustnts were still easy for him to perform.
However, the mont he landed, Feng Xue suddenly sensed hostility. He pressed down on his wound, which had been torn open again due to the excessive movent, and frowned as he looked ahead, only to see a dirty beggar holding a dagger, slowly approaching him:
"You... you bastard! You sneak... sneaking up on , are you trying to steal my tent? You wish!"
The incoherent Spanish was translated by the power of the Golden Finger, and Feng Xue slightly furrowed his brow, suddenly feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. Watching the man who even seed to stagger as he walked, Feng Xue suddenly caught sight of a needle in the corner and instantly realized:
"Tsk tsk... I’m certainly not Diablo..."
As he spoke, he suddenly stretched his mouth wide, and then, the beggar, who was in a state of ntal disarray, stared in horror because the man before his eyes, it turned out, had pulled a crowbar out of his mouth!
Yes, the indescribable stick-like object had not been placed in the Golden Cabinet along with other phantom items. In fact, back when he was in Infinite City, he had already concealed the stick, which "could be hidden in any space that seed viable," in his mouth.
Although it hadn’t been useful as Shawshank’s spoon, it certainly proved fitting for a scenario like this.
Faced with the obviously irrational beggar, Feng Xue showed not the slightest rcy as he thrashed him violently. Even with the blood loss debuff afflicting him, his expertise with weapons and knowledge of human weak points were more than a junkie found in the sewer could handle.
After a series of ghastly screams and howls, Feng Xue left the now-unconscious addict to the side and entered his tent, beginning to search inside. He was surprised to find a dical kit, but that was actually to be expected. After all, brawling and getting injured were commonplace for these holess, and considering the health care costs in the Columbia Federation... well, if they could afford dical insurance, they definitely wouldn’t be holess.
He quickly bandaged his wound with so gauze and then removed the expensive jacket he wore, which was now worn to the point of being shapeless.
After thinking for a mont, he decided not to discard it right away. Instead, he activated the Golden Finger and selected elents like "Assassin," "Concealnt," and "Disguise," and threw them in.
It was highly unlikely that he’d retrieve the assassin’s suit, so he planned to craft a new piece of clothing. Although integrating assassin elents didn’t guarantee a successful product, as long as he could craft an item of phantom clothing, his safety would be assured. He was sure that the true objects he was wearing had clothing elents, and combined with the garnts of the beggar outside, he had more than a dozen chances to try and err. No matter how unlikely, crafting a piece of phantom clothing should be feasible.
With this in mind, the elents were already put in place. Feng Xue added an extra 300 (coins/towers) of "Identity," as per his experience, this amount should ensure that the new elents wouldn’t deviate too much, and the remade item wouldn’t undergo any major changes.
Under his tense gaze, the decrepit tuxedo, worn out by the harsh environnt of the tunnel, began to twist and transform. Fortunately, this ti the refining did not result in a Black Ball but, as he had hoped, turned into a set of clothing.
However...
"This is even more flamboyant, isn’t it?" Looking at the neatly folded garnt in front of him, which even had a touch of Gothic fantasy, Feng Xue lost control of his emotions for a mont, and once again, a bag of salt appeared in his hand.
But when he switched the Golden Finger to the Identity page, his expression imdiately relaxed—
Na: True Object·The Phantom of the Opera’s Evening Dress
Elents: [Clothing], [Assassin], [Comfortable], [Splendid], [Concealnt], [Disguise], [Ghost] ,[Sewer]
Description: The evening dress worn by the Phantom of the Opera, it can naturally blend into the environnt. Its cape assimilates with the shadows, granting the wearer ghost-like powers of stealth and surprise.
Note: My love song echoes only in Hell
...
Without any hesitation, Feng Xue took off the blood-stained shirt, pants, and the ill-fitting leather boots he was wearing, and quickly changed into the refined evening dress. Although he felt a bit uncomfortable with the scarf at the front of his chest (Kolabat or Klabat, the fluffy white fabric seen on aristocratic garnts in ani, gas, and TV series—essentially a scarf), he had to admit that it did look quite handso—except for that overtly extravagant cape.
The advantage and drawback of an Assassin’s suit True Object were quite clear: the advantage was that with a single True Object, one could have a full set of equipnt without worrying about outfit coordination, but the drawback was, if one can’t put on a complete set, it wouldn’t produce any effect.
However, the mont he finally donned the sowhat extravagant cape, he understood the aning of "assimilation with the shadows."
The cape, which had even seed a bit cumberso, lost its weight the instant it connected with the dress, and its shape also disappeared along with it. Only Feng Xue knew it was still there; when he stretched out his hands, he could pull a swath of shadow from behind himself. When this shadow enveloped him, he would "disappear" into the darkness.
"This is better. It’s a bit odd to walk the streets in formal wear, but as long as I don’t have that huge cape, it shouldn’t be a problem." Feng Xue fastened the last button and, feeling slightly uncomfortable, fiddled with the scarf on his chest before quickly leaving the "cri scene."
Although it would take a lot of ti for an excavator to dig through over ten ters, there was no guarantee that Jeston wouldn’t find out about the sewer beneath the Prison through other channels during this ti.
Once he was free from the confines of the Prison, Feng Xue, who lacked a minimap, could only scurry randomly along the sewers. Even though many people died every year in Columbia’s sewers, they weren’t truly accessible from all places; however, as long as one followed the traces of human activity, finding an exit wasn’t difficult.
Yet, during his escape, Feng Xue suddenly realized sothing. The results of his last two reforgings seed a bit too fitting. Whether it was Shawshank’s spoon or the Phantom of the Opera’s evening dress, there was an inexplicable sense of fittingness. This ti, he did not suspect a Russian priest crouching in a corner, but rather considered another possibility—
"Could the environnt of the Real World also influence the outco of the refining?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)