Micro-leaf Paulownia

Battling an unusual form of personality dissociation, Motan admits to feeling the weight of immense pressure bearing down on him. Amidst this turmoil, he finds solace in a virtual escape called "The Realm of Innocence," a game that has become his sanctuary from stress.

In the realm where ambiguity reigns, Motan's behavior is unpredictable and impetuous, making him the instigator and mastermind behind myriad events that spiral out of control. Yet, within the sphere of virtue, his resilience and courage shine through, earning him the admiration of many who see him as the epitome of a righteous knight and a fair judge.

When dwelling in the balance of absolute neutrality, he adopts a demeanor of modesty and lethargy, mirroring the ordinary essence of every soul. Conversely, in the domain of chaotic evil, he transforms into a figure of madness and cruelty, embodying the very essence of a demon and deceiver, showing kindness only to himself.

"Tan Mo is the most extraordinary Bard I have ever encountered, though he is... perplexing, to say the least," comments Countess Leisha, reflecting on his complex nature.

"Mor is a man of distinguished integrity! Having met him just once, I am convinced that he is someone one can confidently turn their back to," declares Gwen, the leader of the Rose Rot, acknowledging his noble character.

"If you're in search of the ideal neighbor, look no further than Hei Fan," recommends Alchemist Luna, suggesting his suitability for companionship.

Yet, amidst these varied testimonies, a warning resonates, "Don't talk about that man!" indicating a mysterious, perhaps darker aspect of his persona that remains unexplored.

Four Split Personalities

[Your mental connection has been detected; synchronizing personal information…]


[Connection complete, reading character information]


[Welcome back, Orderly Good Mor. Loading the Realm of Innocence, wishing you a good night.]


Northwest Continent, Spirit Monster Wilderness


"It really feels as if it's been an eternity."


Motan opened his eyes in a green meadow, instinctively raised his hand to shield the sunlight, and murmured softly, "It's only been one day... huh?"


He was midway through his sentence when he suddenly widened his eyes, then abruptly sat up, his expression stiff as he looked around.


Lush green grass, unknown small trees, the chirping of birds, the fresh scent of soil…


At first glance, nothing seemed amiss, and he indeed had logged off in this spot. Not far away, there even lay a symbolic pile of campfire ashes.


Chapter 471: Theft