This counted as an outburst. A new start-please support me with favorites, clicks, red votes, and everything else.
To be honest, Pure Knife couldn't hold back anymore.
"No!"
The slightly slow-to-react beauty Angela only came to her senses then and cried out in alarm, but it was clearly too late to stop it.
"Fuck it, here goes!"
Sun Fei steeled himself, shut his eyes, and raised the helmet to block it.
Bang!
Sparks flew. The metal helmet instantly glowed red-hot, then began to melt and soften.
A faint sizzling sounded, and the scorched smell of roasted meat wafted over.
Sun Fei yelped and hurriedly tossed away the helmet as though it were a branding iron. He looked down and cursed. Despite reacting fast enough, he had several large, charred welts on both palms.
The fist-sized fireball had finally dissipated, though.
Holy shit, that was close.
Before Sun Fei could celebrate, however, he saw the fat bastard across from him grinning lecherously. Red in the face and straining like a man with prostate trouble trying to hold his pee, he was working up another fireball. The fist-sized fireball was almost fully formed...
This time, Sun Fei had nothing to block it with.
"You're cheating! Have you no shame?" Sun Fei suddenly pointed at the fat pig, who was still "holding his pee," and said aggrievedly, "If you've got guts, let's have a wrestling match! My mom... uh, no, the great god of war taught us that children who play with fire wet the bed at night, and anyone who hides at a distance and casts magic is a despicable coward..."
Thud!
Rows of black lines appeared on the foreheads of the beautiful young Angela and Jima when they heard that. They nearly foamed at the mouth and fainted on the spot. Cheating? No shame? Wetting the bed? What kind of logic was that? When had the great god of war ever said anything like that?
It seemed Alexander was still the same old idiot!
For a moment, neither of them could help feeling a little disappointed.
But they hadn't noticed that, at some point, Beast Sun had gotten hold of the metal breastplate from the armor by the bed. He was stealthily hiding it behind his back, grinning as he talked and edged closer to the fat pig Gejir.
"Fuck you. Just wait till I get close, and we'll see how cocky you are..."
As Sun Fei gauged the distance between them, he prepared to give the bastard a serious beating this time, enough to keep him flat on his back for ten days or half a month. Then they'd see how he played with fire.
But-
"I'll wet your fucking mother's bed!"
Gejir, whose anger had already gone to his head, wasn't about to rein in his "noble mage's fury" so easily. He had decided to teach this idiot king who didn't know what was good for him a proper lesson. If he could get a little something extra out of it, all the better. And so...
Whoosh!
The fireball came again.
This time, the beautiful black-haired Angela reacted quickly. She cried out, her pretty face turning deathly pale, and rushed forward without regard for her own safety, shielding Sun Fei with her slender body.
The fat pig Gejir was startled, but the fireball had already been launched, and he couldn't take it back. He was lamenting that such a delicate beauty was about to be reduced to charcoal before he had gotten a chance to enjoy her...
Sun Fei was horrified too.
Cursing inwardly, Sun Fei had no time to think. He grabbed Angela by her exquisite, snow-smooth shoulders, turned, and held the soft, fragrant beauty tightly in his arms, ready to shield her with his back from the blazing fireball that could melt metal...
"Fuck, this stupid woman is really going to get me killed..."
But just then-
Puff!
A large hand suddenly appeared out of thin air, impossibly, in the fireball's path.
Then it gave the slightest squeeze.
The movement was light, as though it had simply grasped a handful of air.
But the next second, Sun Fei watched in horror as the fearsome fireball, hot enough to melt a metal helmet into liquid iron, was crushed in an instant like a silent, stinking fart. It then soundlessly dissipated into the air.
And from beginning to end, not a single hair on that hand had been singed.
Sun Fei came to his senses and released the blushing Angela. His eyes lit up. "Holy shit, an expert!"
Almost at the same moment, the smug expression vanished from the fat Gejir's face. He stared incredulously at the man who had suddenly appeared in the hall. His fat, flatbread-shaped face turned as white as if it had been powdered, and all the fat on his body began trembling uncontrollably, like a temple shaking off lice.
Like a mouse faced with a cat, the fat pig Gejir was so frightened that his voice changed pitch. "L-L-Lord Lampard, h-how are you... here? I... I... I..."
Cold sweat poured down the fat man's forehead.
The expert called "Lord Lampard" didn't so much as glance at the fat pig Gejir. Instead, he turned and bowed slightly to the beautiful black-haired Angela first, showing her respect. Only then did he cast a cold look up and down at Sun Fei, who was still standing on the bed striking a pose. "Your Majesty Alexander," he said mildly.
Sun Fei was sizing up the "expert" as well.
He was a typical Western white man, 1.9 meters tall, with a lean build, a square face, bright eyes, and a resolute expression. What Sun Fei envied was the expert's long, fiery red hair. Like flames burning in the air, it was spectacularly eye-catching, loosely tied behind his head with a hemp cord. It was definitely a weapon for picking up girls.
What drew Sun Fei's eye most was the two-handed greatsword on the expert's back. It was roughly 1.4 or 1.5 meters long, broad and heavy, and probably weighed around a hundred kilograms. Its edge was rough and not sharp, but it was black and red, brimming with murderous intent.
It reminded Sun Fei of the overpowered weapon Yang Guo, the divine eagle hero of The Return of the Condor Heroes, had obtained from Dugu Qiubai later in the story-the Heavy Iron Sword.
The only thing that puzzled Sun Fei a little was that the expert was so powerful that he should have been in excellent health. Yet for some reason, his face was somewhat pale, with a faintly sickly look between his brows.
Sun Fei had a strange feeling.
Although the expert had crushed the fat man's "fire egg" and saved him at the critical moment, he didn't seem to think much of Sun Fei. Rather, he seemed helplessly caught between pity for his misfortune and anger at his failure to improve. Sun Fei couldn't figure out the expert's identity for the moment, though, so he could only nod slightly in response.
"L-Lord Lampard, may I... go?" the fat bastard asked from the side, trembling so badly he could barely stand.
Lampard didn't even look at him. "Go? What, Gejir? Aren't you going to offer an explanation for offending the king?"
"Ah, an explanation? Well... actually... actually, I was just joking with Alexander... Oh, yes, that's right, just joking... You... you know that Alexander and I have been friends since childhood. It's just... I just lost control of my magic for a moment... You know, I'm only a humble magic apprentice. I don't even have a star rank..."
The shameless fat pig quickly found himself an excuse.
The more he spoke, the more smoothly the words came, spit flying everywhere. Even he was almost convinced that was what had happened.
He was about to continue making things up when he saw Lampard staring coldly at him, his gaze piercing. An invisible chill struck him in the face, and the fat pig was scared out of his wits. He knew perfectly well that the man before him killed as casually as he took a piss. Too frightened to continue, he could only smile obsequiously and fawn over him, mumbling submissively until he could say no more.
A flicker of disgust crossed Lampard's face.
He clenched his hand, and an invisible pressure burst forth.
Sun Fei had the illusion that, for an instant, an invisible pressure filled the hall.
Almost immediately, though, Lampard seemed to remember something. He hesitated, then loosened his clenched hand, and the invisible pressure vanished. Lampard waved as if shooing away a fly. "Get lost. Remember, there won't be a next time!"
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes..."
Hearing this, the terrified fat man was like a prisoner granted a pardon at the last moment on the execution ground. He gasped for breath and bowed with tears of gratitude. Not daring to make another sound, he turned to slink away.
"Wait!"
Sun Fei suddenly called out, stopping the fat man.
The fat pig turned and first looked at Lampard. The expert said nothing, so Gejir had to stop. The fat on his face trembled as he looked at Sun Fei, unsure what was happening.
Sun Fei walked up to the fat man with a smile.
He grinned and patted the fat man on the shoulder. Seeing how amiable he looked, everyone thought His Majesty was about to say something polite to smooth things over.
But-
Who could have expected that, once Sun Fei reached the fat man, his expression would suddenly change? Without another word, he swung his hand and slapped him across the face. As he slapped, he cursed with a trace of grievance, like a child whose doll had been snatched away. "That's for shooting fireballs at me! That's for shooting fireballs at me... that's for shooting fireballs at me!"
Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack!
A series of crisp cracks rang through the hall, like a symphony of stir-frying meat.
Angela, who had only just recovered some of her senses, and little loli Jima, her face swollen, were instantly petrified again, their faces full of shock.
Even Lampard, who had maintained a "standard international deadpan" since his arrival, couldn't keep surprise from appearing in his eyes.
Was this vicious, ruthless fellow acting like a madman really the same foolish Alexander from before?
The unfortunate fat man was stunned by the beating-utterly and completely stunned.
He didn't dare raise his hands to protect his face. Lampard's appearance had scared all the courage out of him, and he could only let Alexander slap him furiously.
The fat man was filled with regret, tears and snot streaming down his face. If I'd known Alexander would become this shameless after taking an arrow, I wouldn't have come even if you'd beaten me to death! I practically offered him my face to slap. The beating is nothing; the real problem is... the real problem is that I can't afford this humiliation! Getting beaten up by an idiot with the intelligence of a three- or four-year-old!
Sun Fei slapped him until his hand went numb. Only then did he stop, still wanting more.
Tears streaming down his face, the fat man breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the nightmare was over.
Who knew that Sun Fei would rub his slightly swollen palm, look the fat man up and down, still unsatisfied, and suddenly lash out with a vicious kick to his crotch? As he did, he muttered, "That's for grabbing my woman! That's for shooting fireballs at me... that's for shooting fireballs at me!"
There he went again.
The kick was vicious, accurate, and underhanded.
The fat man instantly doubled over like a curled-up shrimp tossed into a pot of hot oil, struggling and howling like a pig being slaughtered...
Angela and Jima, who had only just recovered a little, turned to stone again.
The cold expert Lampard finally found it impossible to maintain his cool demeanor. Without realizing it, his mouth fell open in shock, as though he had seen the goddess of life streaking seductively before his eyes...
In the end, the fat man crawled out of the king's hall in tears.
The "crazed" Alexander had truly beaten him into utter terror. He didn't dare feel the slightest resentment. Without looking back, he crawled away as fast as he could, trembling and howling in boundless grievance...
"Ptoo! You're lucky you ran fast, you bastard!"
Still unwilling to let him off, Sun Fei planted one hand on his hip, pointed at the fat man's retreating figure, and cursed him out.
Ever since childhood, the fellow had been the sort of roughneck who settled grudges on the spot. After that thorough beating, he had finally vented his anger and satisfied his urge to hit someone.
His face flushed with satisfaction, he turned around... and was startled.
Angela, Jima, and Lampard were staring at him dumbfounded, looking him up and down as though he were a monster the likes of which they had never seen...
Sun Fei's heart skipped a beat. Shit, did I overdo it just now?
"Oh, oh, oh... I'm dizzy, so dizzy... I'm going to faint." Shamelessly pretending to be crazy and foolish, he acted as though all his strength had left him. He closed his eyes, his legs gave way, and he fell to the floor.
The two girls, Angela, her pretty face flushed red, and Jima, with the handprint still clearly visible on her face, panicked when they saw him. Thinking Alexander's injury had flared up again, they hurriedly and clumsily lifted him back onto the large gilded red bed.
The expert Lampard observed him for a moment and seemed to see through Sun Fei's "scheme," but he didn't expose it. Instead, he asked Angela a few questions about how Alexander had been injured and what had happened afterward, offered the injured little Jima a few words of comfort, and then turned and left, full of questions.
"Your Majesty, the enemy is still attacking the city. It looks as though your soldiers are close to their limit!"
The expert left those words behind as he departed, making Sun Fei's heart pound.
After a little while longer, Angela and Jima settled Sun Fei in. Seeing that he was still "unconscious," they kept watch for a while. Then Angela took Jima to find a physician to treat the injury on her face, and they left as well.
Once he was alone in the hall, Sun Fei calmed down and carefully considered everything that had happened.
Clearly, he really had transmigrated.
Besides Angela and Jima, the magic of the fat pig Gejir and the formidable skills of the red-haired expert who had appeared afterward had confirmed it once again.
In his previous life, Sun Fei had been a down-and-out college student.
After ten years of hard study and hard play, he had only managed to get into a third-rate major at a third-rate university. With graduation approaching, he hadn't even found a job hauling bricks at a construction site. He was about to become a shameful burden on his great motherland's GDP growth, and he couldn't even sponge off his parents. He came from the countryside, his parents had died early, and his relatives didn't care much for him either. When he thought about it, transmigrating wasn't such a bad thing, especially since he had become a king high above everyone else.
Ever since he was little, Sun Fei's ambition had never been to become a scientist or anything of the sort. He had hoped that one day he could transform into a pampered young master with no worries about food or drink, take his lackeys into the streets every day to flirt with respectable women, walk dogs, race cars, pick up girls, and so on... But clearly, in that life, such a great ambition could never have come true.
In this life, though, it seemed his ambition could be realized.
He had become a king high above everyone else, wielding absolute power. He could do whatever he wanted, eat whatever he wanted, flirt with whoever's daughter he wanted, ride a horse whenever he wanted, or take a carriage whenever he wanted. When he had nothing to do, he could take his guards on an incognito tour and show off. When there was business, he could sit in the hall and scold those ministers, who usually acted so grand and superior, however he pleased to relieve his boredom... That was a real fucking winner in life!
At the thought, Sun Fei couldn't help feeling his beastly blood boil.
With such wonderful temptations right before him, his attachment and reluctance to leave his previous life behind quickly vanished. It didn't take Sun Fei much effort to convince himself to accept his new identity.
Sun Fei, however, liked to get to the bottom of things.
He began analyzing the reason he had transmigrated.
Clearly, on his way back to the dormitory that day, he had been struck by a shiny object resembling a disc that fell from the sky. He had probably died on the spot, and then, somehow, his soul had come to this world and possessed the young king named Alexander.
Judging from the series of events before, the young king seemed to have been an idiot since childhood. Sun Fei had no idea what had possessed the previous king to pass the throne on to him. Clearly, the ministers in the kingdom didn't seem to think much of the young king...
Sun Fei also remembered the embarrassing incident when he had just regained consciousness and an arrow struck his helmet.
That had probably been the very moment his soul successfully took possession. He didn't know where the original King Alexander had gone after dying. In any case, from that moment on, Sun Fei had replaced him and become the king of Chambord City.
It was just that this king named Alexander really did seem to have been quite an idiot in life.
Sun Fei had taken over his body and absorbed almost all of his memories, yet he could only obtain some basic information, such as fluent use of the world's language and a few simple daily habits. Apart from that, Sun Fei hadn't figured anything out. Never mind the kingdom's size or how the systems of this other world were structured; he hadn't even known he had a beautiful fiancée named Angela until later. As for the fat pig Gejir and the expert who appeared afterward, Sun Fei still couldn't recall the details about either of them.
"Luckily, this guy was an idiot. Now, when I impersonate him, even if I do something wrong, nobody will be able to tell..."
Sun Fei rubbed his chin and nodded in satisfaction. That worked in his favor.
But Sun Fei soon remembered something else-
Before leaving, the expert had said something about the enemy attacking the city and the soldiers being close to their limit...
"Holy shit, no way?"
At that thought, Sun Fei jolted and nearly jumped off the bed. I just got myself a throne, and before I've even warmed the seat, the enemy is about to break in? Wouldn't that make me the king who lost his kingdom? Forget future luxuries like fine carriages and beautiful women; I'm afraid the cruel enemy will capture me and first x me, then x me, then x and x me again!
The brutal pressure of survival hit Sun Fei head-on, leaving him trembling with fear.
"Pack up and sneak away? The city is surrounded-how am I supposed to sneak out? Have the expert deal with the madmen who dare offend the king's dignity? He's strong, but he probably can't take on an army alone. And what if the other side has experts? Damn it, what should I do?"
Sun Fei thought it over again and again, but couldn't come up with a good solution.
Before transmigrating, he had been nothing more than an idle fool who spent his days chatting and messing around. He had no extraordinary military talent or martial prowess. He could still fight a thug or two if he put his mind to it, but if he had to lead soldiers into battle, he probably couldn't even put on his armor.
Sun Fei quickly changed his tune.
"Fucking hell, which bastard knocked me into another world? I was doing just fine on Earth!" The wretch didn't stop to think who had just been happily fantasizing about the wonderful life of a king.
Just then-
"Collecting host information... 20%... 50%... 88%... 100%... Beginning game system installation... Scanning brain capacity... Requirements met... Installing..."
A mysterious, cold voice rang out.
Hearing it, Sun Fei was scared out of his wits.
The voice had sounded directly inside his head, out of nowhere.
"Holy shit, who's there? Human or ghost?"
Nobody answered him.
A series of beeps sounded, as though a countdown bomb had been planted in Sun Fei's head. More than ten seconds later, the voice returned-
"Game installation complete. Entering the game world of Diablo in three seconds... 3... 2... 1... Entering now!"
Sun Fei felt the world spin and darken before his eyes. Like an adventurer passing through a stargate in the American TV series Stargate, he was enveloped by a strange, mysterious sensation.
[Rogue Encampment]
Sun Fei stood like a fool at the place where new players appeared in the Rogue Encampment from Diablo, feeling uneasy.
He had already been standing there for four or five minutes.
Four or five minutes earlier, after the voice that had suddenly appeared in his head counted down three seconds, Sun Fei's vision blurred and he arrived here.
This was the real world of Diablo.
A perfect and lifelike world.
That was the conclusion Sun Fei had reached over the past four or five minutes.
The sky was overcast, and a light rain was pattering down. Some kind of unknown dark-green moss grew on the slick ground, while black soil lay exposed farther away. The entire camp looked deserted. A few foraging hens had been soaked through by the rain and were clucking as they sheltered inside a crude burlap tent to Sun Fei's left.
A cold wind blew, and Sun Fei shivered.
The clear sensations from every nerve ending in his body reminded Sun Fei that everything before him was absolutely real. This truly was a living, breathing world, not a lifeless two-dimensional computer image.
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I even put out a 12,000-character burst today.
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