Lamb of Blood

"Negated the parry, or is my posture bar already full?"

The "New Year's Greeting" strike, slightly deflected, continued its descent and landed on WhiteStockingsLover's shoulder.

Before he even had time to feel the pain, WhiteStockingsLover turned off pain perception.

He was here to play the game, not to be played by the game.

He couldn't stomach even a little bit of suffering!

Immediately afterward, he took a kick to the chest, and his body, beyond his control, fell to the ground.

The downside of turning off pain perception was also showing: there was no way to react instinctively because there was no tactile feedback. It felt like he was just floating.

How much force was used, what angle… no feedback whatsoever.

The parry failed. It definitely wasn't because there was something wrong with his parry technique. So there was only one other possibility.

This was an elite mob!

WhiteStockingsLover quickly found the "reason": A super-armor elite mob!

Looking at the group of people who swarmed and surrounded him, and the swords in their hands, WhiteStockingsLover chose to obediently huddle up and cover his head.

From his series of reactions, the others didn't even have the heart to continue attacking.

He's being so cooperative.

So docile.

"Which faction do you belong to?" Old ManDe asked, his sword resting against WhiteStockingsLover's neck.

Judging by the equipment on WhiteStockingsLover, he should be from a moderately strong settlement, but probably not a major power, because his armor was a little too rusty.

You always take good care of the things that keep you alive. You definitely wouldn't wear them so carelessly like he is.

His appearance is ugly and grotesque.

Does that mean he overdosed on mutated grain? No, even mutation shouldn't go this far. He's practically a hybrid of a Calamity and a mutated human.

I've never heard of the two being able to mate and produce offspring. Even if they could, the Calamities only appeared two or three years after the apocalypse. How did he get so big?

Ugly, and ugly for no good reason.

"Town of Prei," WhiteStockingsLover answered very cooperatively when asked.

He didn't know what the Town of Prei was, but since they had mentioned it, it was best if he said he came from there.

As for Star Dragon Outpost... players will never actively become traitors, especially not betraying their starting village.

Especially since Star Dragon Outpost had a large number of other players.

It's just a game; players don't have to do good things, but they have to have a bottom line. Otherwise, they'll feel disgusted with themselves, and that disgust doesn't come from a moral bottom line of "keeping promises." Players can be without a bottom line.

The root of this disgust is the "superior" mindset. Players look down on NPCs, thinking they are fake people, just data. If he betrayed his team to a fake threat from an NPC, it would be really disgusting.

Old ManDe's eyes lit up slightly when he heard "Town of Prei."

"Take him back!"

WhiteStockingsLover, his hands tied and his weapons confiscated, didn't struggle or resist. He followed the others obediently.

Along the way, he tried to chat and find out about the situation, but Old ManDe and the others didn't want to talk to him at all, and they taught him what "shut up" meant the hard way.

When WhiteStockingsLover was brought to the settlement, he was overjoyed.

On the other hand, the man holding him down was bewildered. What are you so happy about?

"Is this a band of wanderers? It shouldn't be the Two-Headed Raider gang mentioned in the earlier plotline; I don't see any enemies with two heads."

A group composed entirely of men, numbering about twenty, of all shapes and sizes.

Their equipment was very average, and their weapons were an odd assortment.

Binding knives to the end of long wooden sticks to imitate spears was their group's "standard issue weapon."

But each person carried a ferocious air, with a red glint in their eyes.

Something was off about this group.

The gurgling stewpot emitted a fragrance that made WhiteStockingsLover's scalp tingle. He couldn't imagine what in this world could be so delicious.

Until he saw a fat man toss what looked like bloody chunks of lamb into the stew.

The aroma hit him like a wave, right in the face.

Sniffing, WhiteStockingsLover suddenly felt very hungry.

He belatedly realized that he had turned off all his senses, so he shouldn't be able to smell anything. Why did it smell so good?

The craving for the fragrance came from his body's instincts, from his mind, not his stomach.

"Get in there!"

Clang! WhiteStockingsLover was locked in a cage. The cage next to his also held a few cowering figures, who whimpered at his arrival.

He had a pretty good idea of his situation, and the plight of the figures in the cage next to him.

"Don't be afraid," WhiteStockingsLover reassured the little guys next door.

Even though he knew it was a game, he couldn't help feeling sympathy when he saw these poor things.

Any normal person would find it hard not to hate the bastards outside and not feel sorry for these poor souls.

"Don't worry, I'll save you!" WhiteStockingsLover reached through the bars into the next cage, trying to express his goodwill.

The little ones didn't dare approach and remained huddled in fear.

WhiteStockingsLover didn't take it to heart. He quickly created a forum post.

"[New! Southwest of Star Dragon Outpost, discovered a nest of enemies. Approximately 20, average level 5, elite mob present!]"

Then the post read: "[First! Get here quick!]"

He wasn't alone!

He was fired up!

After posting, WhiteStockingsLover once again turned his attention to the small figures in the cage next door.

"Whimper..."

As if sensing his goodwill, the little guys squeezed out from the dark corners, allowing their bodies to be seen.

The moment he saw their faces, WhiteStockingsLover's eyes widened, and he felt a tightness in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

The little guys were the bloody lambs that had just been thrown into the pot.

The size of human infants, but their bones were mutated and twisted, their faces full of pain, and their bodies covered in blood.

They trembled with every step.

"Don't be afraid," WhiteStockingsLover said, still reaching out his hand, trying to offer comfort.

The little guys came closer, tentatively approaching, as if they were going to touch his hand with their heads.

That humble attempt made WhiteStockingsLover's heart ache.

Even though they looked ugly, WhiteStockingsLover really did feel a moment of healing in his heart. These poor little things...

"Holy sh*t!" WhiteStockingsLover couldn't help but swear.

The little guys, who had been so pitiful just a moment ago, suddenly changed their faces, pounced on his arm, and started tearing and biting at it madly, turning into jackals. One arm was torn to the bone in the blink of an eye.

"Sht, sht, sh*t!"

He reached over with his left hand, grabbed a bloody little monster, and slammed it on the ground like a sandbag.

Although these little guys had sharp teeth and looked fierce, they were actually very fragile. When he slammed one to the ground, its neck deformed, and it died instantly.

Finally, his hand was free. Looking at the small monsters slowly moving on the ground, WhiteStockingsLover's scalp continued to tingle.

The setting of this game is just too messed up!

He still hadn't figured out whether these bloody little monsters were even human, but the people who ate these monsters definitely weren't right in the head.

The other little monsters rolled onto the ground, whimpering and wailing, as if they weren't the ones who had just been bloodthirsty.

"Tsss!"

He was still too green.

WhiteStockingsLover held a grudge, planning to kill these little bastards once he got out. Then, he shifted his attention.

He glanced at the post. Great, people were already responding.

More and more people were replying.

You guys have to help me get revenge, brothers.