God of Oblivion, I**** *** ******

As night fell, the damp and cold atmosphere of the slums still enveloped the entire room. Wang Yanfei casually searched for some food and stuffed it into his mouth. The dry and hard biscuits with a faint smell of mold made him frown, but he had no choice. Every bite of food represents the continuation of survival.

Time passed slowly, the sound of rain outside gradually stopped, and the whole area fell into silence. The early morning bell seemed to come faintly from a distance, and the black fog surged in front of his eyes again. The familiar panel emerged with the fog, the countdown returned to zero, and 12 cards were suspended in the air, emitting a dark golden glow.

Wang Yanfei raised his head and stared at the cards. He had seen the power of this thing. He clenched his fists, and a desire to try surged in his heart, but was quickly suppressed by reason.

"It's not time for the experiment yet." He whispered to himself, but his eyes still stayed on the cards.

He tried to get closer, gently placed his fingers on the back of the card, and tried to look through the front to see the contents clearly, but no matter how he adjusted the angle, he could only see the dark golden back. He sighed, knowing that this attempt was futile.

"Just go with the feeling." He whispered, reaching out and randomly pulling out a card. The moment the card was turned over, a strange pattern emerged - a shadow entangled by tentacles, and the ends of those tentacles were like sharp needles, piercing straight into his heart.

The words on the card slowly emerged:

"The tentacles of the God of Oblivion pierce the heart, and you will forget your right arm."

The next moment, he felt his heart tighten suddenly, as if an invisible force penetrated his body. The intense pain made him gasp, and before he could react, his right arm gradually faded from his shoulder in an extremely strange way, as if it had never existed.

"God of Oblivion, I'm ***!" Wang Yanfei couldn't help but roared, his chest heaving. He stretched out his only remaining left hand and tried to touch the position of his right shoulder, but he only felt the empty sleeve. The position of his right arm became smooth, as if there had never been a right arm.

He leaned against the wall, panting, and his mind was in chaos. The sudden sense of nothingness made him feel a deep sense of powerlessness and fear. But at the same time, his eyes gradually calmed down. At the same time, he also understood that the cards did not seem to be all good, and every card he drew might make him pay an unbearable price.

"It's enough to be able to survive." He gritted his teeth and straightened up, with cold sweat on his forehead, but forced himself to calm down.

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The night deepened as Wang Yanfei moved silently through the desolate alleys, his footsteps light. In his left hand, he gripped a crude makeshift gun cobbled together earlier in the day. Though its craftsmanship was rough, it still posed a formidable threat at close range.

In front of him, the neon lights of a small prosthetic clinic flickered faintly in the dark. The sign was in tatters, and the door was full of discarded metal parts and mechanical fragments. Such clinics in the slums were never haunts of kind souls, and their owners were often hardened individuals who had danced on the edge of death.

"Buy prosthetics?" the man asked in a hoarse and low voice. His eyes scanned Wang Yanfei's lean frame, assessing how much value he could extract from him.

"Install a right arm for me," Wang Yanfei said calmly.

The man frowned, his eyes stayed on Wang Yanfei for a while, and finally fell on the gun. The expression on his face turned cautious, and his tone softened a bit: "Boy, installing a prosthesis is not cheap, do you have money?"

Wang Yanfei pushed the gun forward slightly, his cold eyes locked on the man. "No money, but you'll do it anyway."

The man's face froze, the corner of his mouth twitched, and a trace of greed flashed in his eyes. He looked up and down at Wang Yanfei again, as if he was weighing whether the young man in front of him was a desperate man or just bluffing.

"Okay, I'll install it for you." The man raised his hands and smiled a little stiffly, "But I have to make it clear first, my prosthesis is not as easy to use as you think. You have to worry about the subsequent maintenance and energy supply yourself."

"Stop wasting time," Wang Yanfei said coldly, his gun unwavering. "I just need a functional arm."

The man cursed in a low voice, but still walked out from behind the counter. He opened an iron door leading to the back room and motioned Wang Yanfei to follow, while looking back at the gun from time to time.

The equipment in the back room was even more rudimentary, and the oil stains and discarded parts on the floor made people doubt whether surgery could be performed here. The man opened a locker and took out several broken mechanical arms from it. He picked up one of them that looked still movable.

"This one can be used, but don't expect it to be very flexible." He said, putting the mechanical arm on the operating table.

Wang Yanfei stared at him coldly, without relaxing the gun in his hand. He knew that the bosses of such places were at least "heartfelt" people, but he had no more choices at the moment.

"Get started," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

With a sigh, the man donned gloves and began the procedure. His movements were practiced, evidence of countless similar operations.

"People like you—are you seeking revenge or running away?" the man asked as he worked.

Wang Yanfei did not answer, but just stared at him.

"Just asking casually." The man shrugged and said no more.

During the operation, Wang Yanfei's eyes were always fixed on the man, and he was slightly relieved until the mechanical arm was finally assembled. But even so, he still did not put down the gun.

"How long can it last?" Wang Yanfei asked, his voice still calm.

"At least three months, of course, if you can find a good energy module, it may last longer." The man wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Wang Yanfei nodded and slowly put the gun back, but still did not turn around and leave. He stared at the man for a few seconds and whispered, "Remember, you haven't seen me."

The man laughed dryly, raised his hands, and nodded repeatedly, "Of course, of course."

Wang Yanfei said nothing more, turned around and walked out of the clinic, disappearing into the night. The iron door behind him slowly closed, and the man finally breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, but his eyes still flashed with an inexplicable light.