Chapter 1613: Factions gathering (2)
“adkaehnnga, wongn, aeangnad, aa, eaonedng ae aakeng……”
The melodious music drifted throughout the grand hall, where a solitary figure moved back and forth like a wandering ghost.
Sometimes he would close his eyes and embrace emptiness, sometimes spin in a continuous motion, and sometimes throw back his head in silent song, his ghostly eyes closed as he enjoyed his solitary isolation.
In this vast, enormous hall stood many machines of various forms, with life present in only one being – himself.
“Ah, Angie, how are you? Do your joints still hurt? I patched you up with Hurricane Gilding last time, you should be better now.”
“Oh, it was just a bit too expensive. Be good now, or I won’t treat you so well anymore.”
“Hmm, Park Dong-jung? What’s wrong? Why are you bent over? Is the spear too heavy? Don’t worry, hold on a little longer, it’ll be fine soon.”
“Hi, Great Emperor, hello there. Still so tall, I see? Let me check… oh dear, your teeth are a bit rusty. I should give you some maintenance, yes, some maintenance. But no time this round, maybe next time.”
“Big Leopard, Big Leopard, you’re the best. I love your metal armor the most – full of power and beauty. How about I choose you as my mount?”
“Oh, right, I almost forgot you, Little Wild. You’re my real mount, I’m just a bit tired of you. I feel like some close-quarters combat this time, what do you say?”The man kept talking to these machines throughout the music. Strangely, whenever he spoke to a machine, lights would activate on its body as if responding.
Thus, the man continued – talking to machines, dancing by himself, playing obscure songs in unknown languages.
Moments later, something lit up on a crystal screen at the hall’s center. The man slowly walked over and saw a mountain peak glowing on the display.
He chuckled, patting the head of a mechanical rabbit that only reached his knees.
“Ah, it’s beginning!”
His face broke into a long-awaited smile.
………………………………………………………………..
In a dense forest, several kilometers of vegetation had been completely cleared.
In Alaska’s climate, few plants could survive naturally, making such deforestation highly unusual.
In this clearing, a moderately sized but extremely sturdy camp had been erected at some unknown time.
The camp buzzed with activity as people drank and feasted. Several massive bonfires roasted mutated creatures. Being farther from the Pole than the Bering Strait, the winds were milder here, allowing the aroma of alcohol to permeate the camp.
In this post-apocalyptic era where everyone was an evolved, alcohol could no longer intoxicate.
Around the central bonfire sat six or seven individuals. One large man in white fur gulped down a 700ml bottle of liquor in one go before tossing it behind him, where dozens of empty bottles already lay.
“Hey Dru, trying to drink yourself to death? We came here with a purpose, not for your binge drinking,” said a green-eyed man disapprovingly, his dagger deftly slicing uniform pieces of meat from a mutated creature’s leg. He coated a piece in red pepper and popped it in his mouth.
“I can’t get drunk,” the large man grunted in reply.
Though evolveds couldn’t get drunk now, excessive drinking in short periods could still cause dizziness and slowed reactions. The duration varied by individual – those with higher evolution levels recovered faster.
“Governor gathered us here. You got some problem with that?” asked an extremely thin man with a third eye on his forehead – clearly an ocular-type evolved. As he spoke, his central eye occasionally opened, revealing a ghastly white pupil.
“Shut up, damn thief! Dirty liar! Disgusting beggar! You Gypsy son of a (whore)!” Dru roared, hurling a bottle with such force that it whistled through the air. Yet when it reached the three-eyed man, it suddenly stopped, twisted unnaturally, then vanished into nothingness.
After nullifying the attack, the Gypsy said coldly, “You want to die?”
Just as conflict seemed imminent, both suddenly fell silent.
A figure was emerging from a nearby tent, lifting the flap. Through the opening, the group glimpsed several bizarrely shaped female corpses inside.
When the flap fell back, the mountainous figure blocked both the interior view and the escaping blood scent.
“No good. Too low-level. Broke during play. I still prefer Ella,” the figure said.
The bonfire group all stood to greet him.
“Governor!”
Governor nodded, walking with difficulty due to his immense obesity.
Clad only in a loincloth like a sumo wrestler, but far more massive. His sagging flesh hung grotesquely from torso and limbs, creating a nauseating visual effect.
Yet none dared underestimate him – this wasn’t ordinary fat, but a result of his unique job and bloodline. He was universally recognized as one of North America’s most powerful beings.
Governor Spade.
“Sit, sit,” Spade rumbled, his landing shaking the entire camp as he took a seat. Someone immediately offered him the choicest cut of meat.
As he ate, Spade’s nearly invisible small eyes scanned those involved in the earlier conflict. He smiled: “No need for hostility, friends. We’re all here for this special roulette space. We’ve got plenty competition – like the Women Camp, those troublesome females. And that Mechanical Prodigy will surely come too. Heard there are people from other continents, too, like those yellow monkeys from Asia. So we must stay united.”
The group listened in silence.
“While the Mountain Crown will be mine, the roulette space holds other excellent rewards. You won’t leave empty-handed, plus the payments I promised. All good stuff, no? So let’s keep things civil.”
Suddenly, his expression turned as cold as his voice:
“Otherwise, I won’t hesitate to eat you all.”
The others shivered involuntarily. Governor’s cannibalism was well-known.
Governor pulled a watch from his loincloth, checked it, then looked toward the distant mountain, murmuring: “It’s time.”
The next instant, the mountain erupted in brilliant light!