Not praying for ten strings

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.
Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.
Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.
Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.
Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—
"Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you."
Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, "the Just", the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

Super Righteous Player

After separating from Annan, Kafney led a few people back into Iris Bank.


She still hadn't brought along the Winter Hand.


Since the Winter Hand showed no sign of mobilizing, and they weren't heading towards the subway lines, their movements didn't attract the attention of others—especially the Three-Eyed Crows.


Lin Yiyi glanced sideways at the spirited Prince Philip who was talking nonstop and stopped mid-sentence, "Uh, pretty lively."


Jumping around like a pet dog being taken out for a walk.


Jiu'er, who was getting a bit of a headache from Philip's booming voice, didn't hide her annoyance, "He's lively to the point that even left alone he could interact with the air."


At this, Lin Yiyi couldn't help but burst into laughter.


Salvatore's puzzled voice rose from the room, "What's reacting with what?"


Chapter 338: Your Uncle is Quite Lively, Huh?