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

A person's head...under what circumstances, can it no longer belong to oneself?


Maria shook her head: "Perhaps the knowledge you are exposed to now is too 'clean'. Staking or offering a part of one's body is not uncommon in the Transcendent realm."


Gambling and then having to chop off something...


"So that's it, if one loses a bet and refuses to admit it, they can entrust the 'House of Return' to retrieve it for them."


He felt something strange during that nightmare at the Corruption... What if someone lost a bet but was strong enough to repudiate the debt forcefully, how then could they claim their money?


Chapter 414: The Fugitive Connector Tyrant