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

In such circumstances, most Elves would agree to donate their souls and enter the "techno-cursed" public nightmare to experience the ultimate Cycle of beautiful dreams... It was only natural.


To the Elves, this was not a case of "selfless devotion."


Rather, it was the only way to "return to the familiar life they knew."


Entering the public nightmare was perhaps the last way they could go back to their "homeland."


— A new world without techno-curses could never be called a homeland for the Elves, since their lives, and even the lives of their ancestors, had been built upon techno-curses.


Lin Yiyi muttered, her expression complex.


While Lin Yiyi stood there, arms crossed, lost in thought.


Jiu'er had already pulled Hilda aside, whispering secrets together. The two girls laughed heartily from time to time, obviously becoming close.


Chapter 401 Hilda's Future Vision