'That's my kinda guy, bro!'
Leon imdiately celebrated inwardly upon hearing the good news that he could keep his superpower.
A nerf didn't matter, as long as it wasn't a one-ti trial-version godhood.
Besides, there was a path for advancent. He just had to climb back to its original status step by step.
Thinking this, Leon carefully considered the thod for upgrading the superpower's integrity.
Friendly words → Grind for trigger probability → Successful roll → Obtain Freljord Bottle Cap → Repeat seven tis for a 10% increase
In summary, from now on, he just needed to call everyone "bro" or "sis."
Regardless of the situation, starting with friendly words would guarantee a win anywhere he went.
As long as the sample size was large enough, the probability would beco a certainty.
Out of ten people, at least one was bound to trigger it.
No fuss, no muss, and no rush to succeed.
He was bound to et plenty of people while roaming the cosmos. Taking it slow, he'd eventually return to his peak.
#185cmJock #SettlingDown #SeeYouAtTheTop
"Yo, why'd you bring an outsider this ti?"
Although Leon's mind was wandering, his body hadn't stopped. He followed Boothill and, before he knew it, had entered the clinic.
Finding himself in an unfamiliar environnt, he subconsciously scanned his surroundings.
The inside of the clinic was completely different from its dilapidated exterior. The place was filled with precision instrunts that scread high-tech.
The spacious area contained four or five nutrient pods, a large central control unit, and many chanical arms similar to Boothill's, but with subtle design differences, suspended in mid-air.
Is this clinic even legit?
They just mod you if you're sick, huh.
So cyberpunk.
The flesh is weak, all about that chanical ascension.
Leon silently snarked, shifting his gaze to the person who had just spoken.
It was a short Intellitron, no bigger than his shoe size.
"What outsider? This here's my brother, my own flesh and blood!"
Boothill grinned.
"Flesh and blood? You an parts you can swap out and replace at any ti?"
Hearing this, the Intellitron glanced at the fully chanized cyborg and chuckled a few tis.
"Hey, hey, hey, you little sweetpea, don't you go provokin' the bond between and my brother, I'm tellin' ya."
Boothill told it to shut up, though he wasn't actually bothered by the dark joke.
"Galaxy Ranger?"
The Intellitron asked, sizing up Leon.
"What do you think?"
"I'm surprised. Didn't expect to see a new Ranger these days besides you," the Intellitron said, sounding a bit surprised.
Most of the Galaxy Rangers vanished after that battle with Dr. Primitive.
No one knows if they're dead or alive. Right now, Boothill is the only new blood who's still active, or at least well-known.
After so long, a second one has finally, and rarely, appeared.
The Hunt is a path of no return. To walk this Path ans he's also a man with a bitter fate.
"What'd you co looking for for this ti?"
The Intellitron shifted its gaze from Leon, looked at Boothill and asked, "Got so damage that needs fixing? Or need to change out so parts?"
"You rember what I talked to you about last ti?"
Boothill asked with a shrug.
"Last ti?"
The Intellitron murmured in confusion, then searched for the relevant information in its super-brain.
"You an the Holstein Great Silence?"
the Intellitron said uncertainly.
"That's right, the Holstein Great Silence, sweetcheeks. How's that stuff I asked for comin' along?"
Boothill nodded.
"Haven't got it."
The Intellitron shook its head.
"Huh? Sweetpea, it's been months! Don't you ow-ther-flippin' tell you only just started the project!"
Boothill had an expression that said, "Are you kidding ?"
"What's the damn rush? You should be grateful I'm doing this for you for free. And now you're giving deadlines!"
The Intellitron fud at him.
"What's money got to do with it? We had a deal."
Boothill leaned down and unceremoniously ruffled its head.
"You help get revenge, and I'll help you get yours!"
Boothill grinned broadly, a row of shark-like teeth gleaming.
The reason this Intellitron modded his body and provided a series of after-sale services was because the two had a partnership.
His ho was destroyed by the Corporation, while its ho was destroyed by a Lord Ravager known as "Iron Tomb."
It was responsible for providing Boothill with support, and in return, Boothill had sworn to get revenge on "Iron Tomb" for it!
Both of them were stray dogs with no ho to return to.
No gravestones to be buried under, so all they could do was run wild until they rotted.
"If I had to count on you, I'd probably die with regrets in this lifeti."
The Intellitron swatted his hand away and sighed.
"Sweetpea, what's that supposed to an?"
Boothill didn't like the sound of that.
"Don't you worry. It's just a Lord Ravager. It's not like the Galaxy Rangers haven't killed one before!"
"Co back and say that to when you've managed to get your hands on a 'Myriad Arrows Signet'."
the Intellitron said irritably.
The Galaxy Rangers could indeed kill an Emanator, but the price to pay was also extrely high.
Putting everything else aside, just gathering this group of elusive people was impossible without the "Myriad Arrows Signet."
"You think that thing is easy to get?"
Boothill said in a tone of utter helplessness.
There are only three ways to kill a Lord Ravager.
Either he becos an Emanator, or he uses the "Myriad Arrows Signet" to replicate that miracle one more ti, or he asks the Xianzhou Alliance for help.
No matter which of the three, none of them could be accomplished overnight.
"Bro, aren't we going to go blast so mokeepers? What are we doing here right now?"
Leon, who had been watching for a long ti without understanding the situation, spoke up in confusion.
"Bro, looks like you popped out of so backwater galaxy, just like ."
Boothill glanced at him, a strange sense of empathy in his eyes.
"I was the sa when I first beca a Ranger. Didn't know a thing about the outside world. Learned everything the hard way, one pitfall at a ti."
There was a strange hint of emotion in Boothill's words.
"What does that have to do with anything right now?"
Leon was speechless, urging him to get to the point.
"Alright, bro, let ask you this."
Hearing that, Boothill cut the crap and got straight to the point. "Do you think mokeepers are human?"
"Aren't they? Or are you saying all mokeepers are monsters like the Denizens of Abundance?"
Leon replied without a second thought.
"Yeah, you're close."
Boothill didn't keep him in suspense and revealed the reason for coming here in the next second.
"People die when they are killed. That's an immutable fact."
"But thanks to the immortality of Abundance, killing a single Denizen of Abundance often takes more effort than killing ten corporate dogs."
"The sa logic applies to mokeepers."
"You need to use so special thods to kill a mokeeper, otherwise it's just a waste of effort."
Boothill explained.
"Those mokeepers from the Garden of Recollection have all abandoned their physical bodies. None of them can be considered human. They exist in the world as psychic shells called 's'."
"Because they have no physical form, only a false body constructed from 'mory'."
"This makes all physical attacks ineffective against them."
"To truly kill these lovely 'mokeepers', we need so special bullets—the kind that specifically target the mind."
Having said this much, Boothill felt the answer was already obvious.
_____
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