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Chapter: Absorbing Man

"It's... gunshots!" Donald exclaimed in surprise.

"I'll go take a look," Loki said, then turned and left.

After a while, he arrived at the location where the gunshots had come from and saw a wounded bald man staggering towards him, holding a gun, as if escaping from something.

Under the dim sunset, the bald man didn't immediately notice Loki.

But as soon as he saw a figure in front of him, he pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Boom!"

The bullet hit Loki in the face and bounced off, leaving him unscathed.

The bald man widened his eyes in disbelief and fired several more shots in succession, but none of them managed to hurt Loki.

"You..." he said weakly, then collapsed to the ground.

His chest wound pushed his body to its limits, and this mysterious, invulnerable man filled him with despair.

At that moment, a team of police appeared not far away, apparently chasing the bald man.

Loki pondered for a moment, then cast a spell of concealment to hide both himself and the wounded man.

The spell wasn't intricate, but the human police had no way to see through it. They searched the area for a long time but found nothing, despite the bald man being close by.

"Damn, what's going on? How did the bloodstains suddenly disappear here?" the policemen exclaimed.

"Yeah, this guy can't just vanish into thin air," remarked one of the police officers, clearly perplexed.

Even the police dog accompanying them couldn't track the scent.

The bald man was still conscious and even more shocked by what he witnessed. He turned his head with difficulty and looked at Loki. "Who... Who are you?"

"I'm not human," Loki replied with a slight smile, crouching down.

"I am a god."

"A god... can you save me?" the bald man managed to ask.

Loki countered, "Tell me who you are first."

The bald man took a breath. "Shouldn't a god be omniscient?"

Loki hesitated briefly.

But the bald man's question seemed more casual than serious. He didn't have the luxury of time to delve deeply into theological debates. "My name is Carl, Carl Creel. I... I'm a fugitive. Will you save me, merciful god?"

"Then be my servant," Loki responded.

"Okay, I'm willing to be loyal to you," Carl replied quickly, his breathing rapid.

Loki then extended his hand, and a faint light coalesced in his palm, emitting strange fluctuations before merging into Carl's body in an instant.

"Ahh!" Carl screamed, enduring excruciating pain as if experiencing something beyond description.

In fact, he was. Despite his severe injuries nearly rendering him unable to lift his head, the pain continued to convulse through his body.

"The process will be quite painful," Loki admitted.

He hadn't lied.

What he had just employed wasn't healing magic but a highly risky form of dark magic.

The recipient of such magic would first endure indescribable agony, with descriptions from ancient texts likening it to childbirth being a joyful game by comparison.

Following the intense pain, more than seventy percent of recipients might perish outright, with less than thirty percent potentially gaining new abilities and incidental healing of their injuries.

Having recently acquired this magic, Loki was eager to put it to the test.

Carl's torment persisted for about two minutes before gradually subsiding.

Loki observed closely.

As the pain ebbed, Carl's injuries began to heal rapidly. Evidently, the magic had worked.

Loki couldn't help but smile. "Fortune favors you."

Gasping for breath, Carl found himself lingering in the aftermath of the agony, realizing that, ironically, life now seemed preferable to death.

He even harbored a trace of resentment towards Loki for inflicting such torment. Nonetheless, having been healed, it was futile for him to challenge Loki.

Therefore, once his injuries had fully mended, Carl humbly knelt on the ground. "Master."

Loki nodded approvingly. "Now, test your newfound ability."

"Huh?" Carl looked perplexed.

"Don't you sense something different within yourself?" Loki prompted.

Frowning, Carl concentrated, searching for an instinct that surfaced from deep within his heart.

After a moment, he abruptly opened his eyes, shocked to discover that his body had transformed into a metallic form, gleaming with a silvery luster!

"This...!" Carl exclaimed in disbelief.

Loki observed closely and explained, "Your body can now absorb and convert foreign substances, transforming your entire form into the same material. Look at yourself now. Is your body not the same material as the pistol in your hand?"

Carl glanced down and realized that indeed, his body now matched the material of the pistol he held.

He was overwhelmed with pleasant surprise. Never could he have imagined that, amid his misfortune, he would be blessed with such formidable power.

"Thank you, my lord!" Carl expressed his gratitude.

Loki grinned. "Good. Come with me. There's something you must do."

"Yes."

Loki escorted Carl back along the same path.

"Who is he?" Forseti asked casually.

"I saved an injured man," Loki replied. "He will now take over driving duties. We can relax and enjoy ourselves."

Donald, who had been setting up the tent, froze at Loki's words, then sighed deeply.

"You do know how to drive, don't you? But if not, it's no matter," Loki assured Carl.

Whether it was Forseti, Loki, or Carl, the risk of a car accident was no longer a concern. Even if Carl lacked driving experience, it posed no significant issue—just a matter of practice.

With Carl at the wheel, Forseti and Rocky could now leisurely traverse the roads, slowly making their way towards the distant state of New Mexico.

Three months had passed.

"We've entered New Mexico. We'll reach our destination soon," Loki announced, lounging with his legs crossed.

Observing the street sign that read "New Mexico" ahead, Donald couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief.

Finally, their journey was drawing to a close.

The months of travel had felt like a lifetime to him.

At least, his original shoes had seen a lifetime's worth of wear and were now at their end.

Presently, he sported indestructible light-cast sneakers, another gift from the sun god.

Perhaps sensing that Donald had exerted himself a tad much earlier, and now nearing their destination, Loki decided to enhance Donald's self-perception.

"Brother, try this. It's been my cherished treasure for years," Loki offered Donald a bottle of wine with kindness.

"No, I'm still in high school," Donald declined politely.

"Very well, we'll drink it when we arrive," Loki decided, placing the bottle in the car. "You'll thank me. I haven't shared this with anyone yet."

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