novelhk Chapter 130 Repetition
Chapter 130 Repetition
Chapter 130 Repetition
"West."
"west."
The guidance of fate is still whispering.
It persuaded and lured Chris to go west, and Chris had long believed it.
There are no gods in this world, but fate does exist.
According to the method in "The Guide to Destiny Interpretation", Chris only needs to adjust the energy within the group to truly see, hear, and feel the existence of destiny.
And whenever this happens, Chris feels like he's in control of his destiny.
But in reality, according to the guide to interpreting fate, fate can be controlled, but no one can control it.
Interpreting fate alone requires immense energy, let alone mastering it.
However, if the energy density in a certain area is too high, it will distort the fate of everything around it.
At that time, one's own fate will inevitably be distorted.
To control one's destiny? Only by acknowledging that we are merely governed by fate can we avoid appearing self-deceiving.
Chris, who had already carefully studied parts of "The Guide to Destiny Interpretation," actually understood the principles.
But he has mastered the extraordinary skill of "interpreting fate," which has boosted his confidence to an all-time high.
In his view, compared to the past, he is now undoubtedly in control of his own destiny.
But he also knew that the fate he now held in his hands was not accurate enough.
Following the method in the book, he obtained two clues about fate.
To the west, a pottery jar.
Even so, the hint remains vague.
To obtain more accurate results, one must learn more advanced methods. However, when he tries to interpret using these new methods, he either finds his mind confused, or his mind is filled with fantasies of a bright future that almost lead him astray, or his energy depletes before he can receive any hints.
This caused Chris to lose consciousness and pass out.
Chris then realized that interpreting fate was not a simple or easy thing.
If he wants to master more advanced interpretation methods, he must first improve his control over energy.
The method book also records that one should use energy to filter one's perceptions and then experience the changing trends of all things in the world.
Chris felt that this method was similar to meditation.
But it did work; Chris found that he was able to control his physical energy more precisely.
However, there is still a long way to go before learning the next stage of interpretation methods.
Fortunately, Chris, being a con artist, understood that patience was very important and that nothing should be rushed.
After another session of meditation, Chris sat in a chair and stretched his arms a little.
He felt a little thirsty, so he reached for the glass in front of him and took a sip of beer.
However, the back of his hand accidentally knocked over the wine glass, causing the wine to spill all over the floor.
"Pfft," Chris frowned and clicked his tongue.
Even though more than a month has passed, he still hasn't fully adapted to vision in one eye and can't control distance well.
Having no other option, he got up and planned to ask the sailors on the ship to dry the floor and prepare some food and drinks for him.
Stepping out of the ship's cabin, Chris grabbed a sailor at random and gave him orders.
The sailors immediately sprang into action.
The people on the ship were now completely convinced that he was the slave king Valen, and therefore obeyed his every word.
Chris also spotted the shrill voice standing at the bow of the ship, chatting with someone.
The man had a very soft voice, which is why Chris kept calling him that.
The high-pitched voice belongs to the captain of this ship, and the captain's cabin that Chris has taken over is originally his room.
Chris had some questions to ask, so he walked to the bow of the ship.
Upon seeing Chris's arrival, the shrill voice immediately greeted him:
"Oh! Boss!"
Chris cut to the chase: "How long until they're back?"
The high-pitched voice immediately replied, "Soon. They've been gone for over twenty days, so it should be within the next day or two."
The ships under the Slave King's command are usually in groups of three, and they operate simultaneously.
However, at present, there is only one ship anchored near this sea area.
The other two ships were dispatched.
Chris undoubtedly wanted to head west immediately to follow the guidance of fate.
However, the three captains complained bitterly about it.
After Chris impersonated Varen, he immediately ordered the killing of all the slaves captured from Griffith Plains by the shrill-voiced man.
This meant that if they simply sailed west, they would undoubtedly have made a wasted trip and were destined to gain nothing.
They complained to Chris about being poor, but Chris knew that at least the shrill voice wasn't.
Chris had taken a hundred gold coins from the warrior named Robert, and they were now hidden on the shrew's person.
But Chris had no choice but to expose the scam in order to keep it going.
A wolf will stare at a lamb, but it will never remember what its prey looks like. Chris's deception is based on this very principle.
Chris is now the slave king Warren, so how could he possibly know that the unlucky fellow was robbed of a hundred gold coins?
And Chris does need the money.
The West is just one clue.
What he needed to search for was the so-called "earthenware pot".
I've heard that the frozen continent isn't very large, but accurately locating a target on land that can be called a continent would undoubtedly require a lot of effort and money.
Regarding making money, the captains suggested that Chris return to Nailport and retrieve some funds.
After the shipping route through the Weeping Fjords was disrupted, Valen apparently temporarily moved his command headquarters to Nailport, where Valen must have had a large amount of funds.
Chris remained clear-headed about the fact that he was just an imposter and a conman.
There must be many people in Nailport who have seen what Warren looks like. Once Chris goes there, he won't be long before his deception is exposed.
Therefore, Chris could not adopt this suggestion, and the shrewish voice proposed another plan: kidnap some residents of the Great Kingdom and sell them as slaves to the Frozen Continent.
Chris agreed.
Although he lost an eye because he was kidnapped by slave traders, doing this will undoubtedly cause many more innocent people to suffer the same fate.
But what does this have to do with Chris?
Fate is either cyclical or ascending, and those people will become the cycle in Chris's fate.
Breaking the cycle was something Chris didn't hesitate about, nor would it shake him in the slightest.
Now two ships have gone to capture slaves, leaving only the ship Chris was on, anchored in the near sea.
In response to the shrill voice, Chris nodded and gave the order:
"Let me know as soon as you get back."
Then, he immediately ordered the ship to set sail westward, approach the pottery jar, and arrive at the ascent of destiny.
Chris nodded and bowed, then returned to the captain's cabin.
As October approaches, the weather grows increasingly cold, especially around the permafrost continent.
Despite wearing several fleece sweaters, Chris still felt unbearably cold.
Therefore, he also suspects that the reason this strait is crying is probably because it is frozen.
Only warm and delicious food, and spicy and sweet drinks, can help him relax his tense body.
Before me was a roasted chicken, prepared rather crudely, with some parts even charred black.
But how many cooks among slave traders could actually have real skills?
Chris didn't ask for much; as long as it was hot and edible, he was satisfied.
With a refreshing lime liqueur in hand, Chris thought that even the emperor of the sea might not eat better than him.
Now everyone regards him as the "King of Slaves," and he is indeed a king!
He finished the roast chicken and drinks, feeling refreshed and relaxed in his chair before letting out a burp.
Just then, someone knocked on the door:
"Boss!"
Chris's leisurely mood was interrupted, which inevitably annoyed him. He frowned and asked in a disgruntled tone:
"What is it?"
"A ship is approaching."
Upon hearing this, Chris still wanted to sit comfortably without moving.
But reason told him that he had to go out and see what was going on.
So he got up and went to the captain's room.
"Boss, look! The ships are coming back!"
Chris had just stepped out the door when a high-pitched voice hurriedly and excitedly reported,
He walked toward the shrill voice and stood beside him.
Looking beyond the gunwale, on the turbulent sea in the distance, a ship was rapidly approaching.
Chris recognized the ship; its captain had a rather deep, gruff voice.
However, there is only one.
"What about the other one?" Chris asked.
"Let's split up," the shrill voice said. "That way we can capture more prisoners."
But it also means that we need to spend more time waiting.
Seemingly noticing Chris's displeasure, the shrill voice added:
"Boss, don't worry, the return time is set. Although every sea area is filled with seawater, no two waves are the same. The other ship is probably on its way, or it may have been delayed by something, but it should arrive soon."
Complaining to the slave trader next to you will get you nowhere.
Chris said nothing; he understood that he had to be patient.
He was completely unfamiliar with the frozen continent, and besides, finding what he wanted required more people to be efficient.
He still needs their help, so he must play the role of Valen well.
Chris remained on deck, waiting for the rough-sounding ship to approach.
Showing respect to subordinates helps gain their trust and loyalty.
A short while later, the ship approached.
When the two boats were level, the gruff-voiced man approached the railing, bowed to the man standing opposite, and shouted:
"I'm back, boss."
"You've worked hard," Chris nodded. "How was it?"
"Ha! Quite a haul!"
As he spoke, the gruff voice gestured to the deck behind him.
"The slave quarters were so small that I had to tie some of the slaves to the deck."
The shrill voice said, "Then you should have come back a long time ago. This is too risky; it would be easy for people to discover your kidnapping."
"Don't worry," the gruff voice said confidently, "I've specifically sent people to patrol the area. If any patrolmen or soldiers pass by, I'll be able to know in advance and adjust accordingly."
Chris was just a fraud; he didn't know much about slavery and naturally wouldn't chime in during professional discussions among industry insiders.
He was only using his one remaining eye to survey the deck opposite him.
The sailors are patiently maneuvering the boat, furling the sails, and dropping the anchor.
Some slave traders, carrying long whips, walked back and forth on the wooden planks.
The captured slaves were all blindfolded and gagged, and their hands were bound behind their backs.
Just then, Chris was suddenly drawn to a slave.
The man was not tall, and his exquisite woolen coat, because it was too small, was not taken by the slave traders.
But what alerted Chris was the kid's hair.
It was curly hair, but the color was a unique orange-yellow.
Once in the Forest of Capello, Chris learned that those who inherited the bloodline of the Capello family all had beautiful hair of that color.
Chris also spent some time with one of the Capello family's bastards.
And that person must be a part of Chris's destiny.
Chris constantly regrets not killing the boy in time, not breaking the cycle of fate.
However, right now...
Chris quickly reached out and pointed at the boy:
"Him! Bring him here!"
The rough-voiced man, who was talking to the high-pitched voice, hesitated and looked confused when faced with Chris's sudden request, but still acted immediately.
A moment later, the boy was pushed and shoved to the opposite side of Chris.
"Take off his blindfold!"
The rough-voiced man pulled out a dagger and cut the blindfold covering the boy's head.
As the black linen was torn away by the cold, hard sea breeze, Chris was able to see the boy's face clearly.
The boy squinted because of the bright light, but once his eyes adjusted, he immediately noticed Chris and looked over.
The boy's gaze first turned to surprise, then to panic. Chris noticed that the boy's eyes were focused on Chris's left eye—or rather, his eye patch—and a look of astonishment and confusion gathered between his brows.
Haha, it's him! Chris was overjoyed, and he recognized me too!
Chris was certain that the kid must be wondering why he had met Chris here.
They wouldn't understand why Chris is now a one-eyed man.
Chris endured excruciating pain and gouged out his own eyes.
And the root of all this is that kid's lie.
The boy said that the ocean surged in his blood.
But we are right here in the middle of the ocean, Chris thought proudly, you, descendant of the sea, are held in my palm!
This further proves that the kid is lying!
If he hadn't lied, Chris wouldn't have gone to the shores of Griffith Plains, and the series of tragedies that followed wouldn't have happened.
At this moment, Chris was angry, hateful, and even more ashamed. As a professional con artist, he had actually been deceived by someone else!
But at the same time, there was also a faint sense of relief.
Ultimately, all the emotions combined made him burst into laughter:
"Haha! Hahaha!"
He laughed until his upper abdomen ached and he couldn't breathe, and only then did the smile on his face subside amidst his spasms.
The two captains beside him looked at Chris's sudden and inexplicable reaction, completely bewildered, and wore expressions of confusion.
But Chris wasn't in the mood to care about them; he kept staring intently at the boy.
After thinking for a long time, Chris finally figured out how to bring it up:
"Hey! Kid!"
Upon hearing the sound, the boy immediately glared angrily at Chris.
Chris laughed again, and the expression was exactly what he expected.
He could foresee that if he removed the thing from the boy's mouth at that moment, the boy would shout "liar" in a tone full of hatred and contempt.
Although Chris somewhat wanted to hear the boy's voice, just like he longed for a woman's moans in bed.
But Chris couldn't give him that chance; he couldn't allow the slave traders on the ship to have even the slightest doubt that he wasn't the slave king, Warren.
Thinking of this, Chris felt even more pleased.
The boy was a recurring theme in his life, and Chris was driven mad by his desire to kill him.
He had missed an opportunity before, but he never expected that fate would be so kind to him.
It was in this very place that Chris and the boy met again, giving Chris a chance to make amends for his mistake.
This time, he definitely won't miss it again.
Chris narrowed his right eye and gave the order in a cold tone:
"Kill him!"
"Huh?"
Upon hearing this instruction, the rough-voiced man standing next to the boy was completely stunned and looked at Chris with a puzzled expression.
Chris's temples bulged with veins, and with his only remaining eye, he glared at the captain, his voice trembling and strained:
"I said, kill him!"
Seemingly intimidated by Chris's imposing presence, Chris noticed the Adam's apple in the rough voice bob slightly.
The man with the rough voice nodded, then turned to the boy.
His left hand grabbed the boy's collar, while his right hand held a dagger to the boy's neck, his lips moving.
"Splash!"
A sizable wave crashed against the hull, making a loud noise that drowned out the rough voice.
But judging from the shape of his mouth, he should be saying: I'm sorry.
Chris suddenly realized that the corners of his mouth were uncontrollably turning up, his breathing had become rapid, and his heart was pounding wildly.
The boy was a cycle in his destiny, and he was about to break that cycle and embrace the rise of destiny. Chris felt he was about to climax.
When he saw the boy's pale neck suddenly glow red, Chris involuntarily let out a gasp:
"Hmm~"
However.-.
Just then—
A shadow suddenly emerged from the boy's collar and lunged at the rough-looking man's wrist, knocking the dagger from his hand.
Then, a dark figure slipped into the sleeve of the man with the rough voice.
The rough-voiced man immediately began frantically shaking his arms and screaming in terror.
He started groping himself, from his left arm to his armpit, and from his chest to his lower abdomen.
He cried out in pain and weakness for help, and finally faced Chris, collapsing onto his side on the deck.
Apart from the roaring sea, everything around held its breath.
No one dared to make a sound, and no one knew what had happened.
A moment later, a small creature stained red with blood emerged from the rough-looking man's mouth.
The creature thrashed its body rapidly, scattering blood droplets and revealing parts of its original black fur.
Based on its size, Chris determined that it was a rat.
But the rat's tail was particularly strange; instead of being long and thin like silk, it resembled a wisp of black smoke rising slowly.
A chilling thought flashed through Chris's mind: it was a... magical beast!
The rat suddenly climbed onto the boy's body and stood on his shoulder, then bared its teeth at the slave traders surrounding him.
Chris was astonished to see this.
Could it be that this magical beast is protecting that kid?
But why?
Chris couldn't figure out why, and he immediately realized that now was not the time to think about it.
He had to kill the boy, he had to break this vicious cycle!
He continued, "The rest of you, don't just stand there, grab your weapons! Quickly! Kill him! Kill this kid!"
But after seeing the pitiful state of the rough-voiced man, he didn't dare to move.
Chris immediately said, "Your captain is dead, and the man who killed this kid will become the new captain of this ship."
Moreover, I will certainly give special consideration to the cause of slavery.
Clearly, bribery was more effective than orders. Within two seconds, a slave trader grabbed both ends of the whip and rushed toward the boy, seemingly intending to strangle him.
However, when he was only a few steps away from the boy, the mouse suddenly pounced and burrowed into his clothes.
The slave trader panicked instantly and lay down on the deck, rolling around on the floor as if trying to drive the rats out of his clothes.
But it was all in vain. In less than two seconds, a large hole was pierced through his body, and blood flowed in all directions.
After the mouse came out, it returned to the boy's shoulder, just like before.
Damn it! Chris thought to himself, all I wanted was to break the cycle, why is even a rat trying to stop me!
Chris looked across the sea between the two ships' gunwales and shouted:
"Don't stand there! Keep going! Charge! Kill this kid, don't stop!"
"But that rat is protecting him," shouted a slave trader across the street. "Anyone who comes near will be bitten to death!"
Now, even bribery has lost its effectiveness.
In the face of life, all interests seem pale in comparison.
Since he couldn't bribe him, Chris only had one option left: coercion!
"Then let's kill that damned rat first!" Chris roared. "That's no ordinary rat, it's a monster! Leaving a monster on the ship will get you killed sooner or later. While we still have its location, let's get rid of this trouble quickly."
That's your only way out!
Upon hearing this, the sailors on the opposite ship exchanged glances.
Finally, they roared and charged at the boy.
The rats attack anything that gets close.
Shouts of encouragement and screams of agony continued, and blood splattered everywhere, eventually forming a red puddle at the boy's feet.
Chris, gazing at this scene, also had his right eye reflected red.
He ordered the men around him, "Bring me a crossbow, preferably a crossbow!"
By this time, Chris realized that he couldn't rely on anyone else, and he couldn't depend on anyone.
To break the cycle, he must rely on himself.
He didn't know how to shoot an arrow, but at this distance, he felt that if he tried a few more times, he would definitely be able to kill the boy!
The high-pitched voice responded, asked no questions, and immediately got to work.
Clearly, on both boats right now, apart from Chris and the boy, no one knows why things have suddenly turned out this way.
"Hahaha—." Chris suddenly laughed again.
"You see," Chris thought, "even now, you're still getting in my way."
Chris's determination to kill the boy grew even stronger.
At that moment, the shrill voice handed the weapon to Chris.
That was a crossbow.
Chris loaded his crossbow bolt while keeping an eye on the situation on the other side.
As more and more people gathered around, the mouse had to get off the boy's shoulder.
It stood amidst the pool of blood, fighting alone against the swarming crowd.
Someone thrust a long sword at the rat, which nimbly dodged and crawled along the blade toward the man's arm.
Then, with a leap, it landed on the other shoulder of the man, and in the process, it smoothly bit off the man's neck, causing blood to gush out like a fountain.
Without a moment's pause, the rat pounced on another slave trader with incredible force.
The man had no chance to react before the rat crawled into his eye socket.
Less than a second later, it emerged from the other eye socket.
It then attacked the nearest person, biting open that person's cheek and seemingly trying to burrow into their stomach through their esophagus.
Just as the man's throat swelled up, a slave trader nearby suddenly swung his axe and chopped at the man's neck, aiming precisely at the swollen, downward-moving part.
Its head flew off and fell into the sea.
His body stiffened and he fell to the ground, the impact causing something to be thrown out of his throat.
It was a red rat's head.
"Ugh! Ugh!"
The boy, whose mouth was gagged, suddenly knelt down in the blood, facing the remains of the rat, and let out a mournful groan.
It's like mourning for a friend.
Treating monsters as friends? Chris felt this boy was a scourge to humanity, and even so, he had to kill him!
Seeing the boy's pained expression, Chris felt a sense of satisfaction.
He felt like he'd seen this expression before—oh, right, the boy had the same look when he killed that warrior named Robert.
Unfortunately, Chris didn't see the boy cry, otherwise he would have had even more fun.
At this point, Chris had already loaded the crossbow bolt.
He held his breath and aimed at the boy.
A smile played on his lips. The arrow was already aimed at the boy. All he had to do was trigger the mechanism to break the cycle completely!
Chris didn't hesitate and decisively flicked his fingers.
"boom!"
Suddenly a loud bang was heard, and Chris's gaze abruptly shifted.
He felt himself falling, then an impact came from behind.
A tingling sensation surged through the back of his head; he had experienced that feeling before—it was when something had hit him hard on the back of his head.
His vision then blurred, and all he could hear were sharp cries.
Wow...
"call....··
".-Boat..."
"...Weigh anchor, quick, raise the sails—"
Chris felt that the surroundings were incredibly noisy, with all the sounds mixed together. He could only make out a few fragmented words, but he couldn't string them together into sentences.
He didn't know what had happened, but he felt that he was much more awake now.
He tried to shift his body and realized that he was lying on the deck.
So, he just hit his head on the floor?
He struggled to sit up and found everyone on the ship busy, with high-pitched voices straining to give urgent instructions.
After taking a few deep breaths, he managed to stand up, even though the scene before him was still somewhat shaky.
He approached the shrill-voiced man and grabbed his shoulder.
The shrill voice turned his head, and Chris then saw that his face was covered in sweat.
He looked at Chris with terrified eyes: "Oh! Boss, are you alright?"
Chris shook his head: "What's wrong?"
"We've been attacked!"
"An attack? Who?"
"Either they are pirates, or the lord who discovered our abduction of people has sent warships," the shrill voice said. "But the ships came from the west, so it's more likely the former."
Chris questioned, "Even if they were pirates, why didn't the sentries on their ship warn us beforehand when their ship rammed us? There's no way they wouldn't have noticed!"
"Collide?" The shrill voice said frivolously, "You've got it wrong, boss. No boat collided with us."
"No?" Chris looked puzzled. "Then what was that violent shaking just now? I was even knocked to the ground!"
'
The high-pitched voice pointed out: "Look over there—"
Chris looked over and saw that a huge wooden pole had appeared at the bow of the ship.
"wood?"
"It's a giant arrow, boss," the shrill voice said. "It's a weapon invented by the people of the Far East nearly twenty years ago. It later spread to the Holy Envoy Principality and was then captured by pirates. However, it seems that only the fleets of the eight leaders are equipped with this weapon."
"So our enemy is probably one of the eight major pirate leaders, and our situation is very bad. But boss,"
I've heard you're quite close to the gossipy Benson. Don't you know that?
Chris reacted quickly, immediately placing his hand on the back of his head:
"Of course I know, but I just hit my head and my reaction time is slow."
"Then please go and rest first, we must escape immediately."
Chris nodded at the shrill voice, but felt something was missing.
Suddenly, Chris's expression changed—fate! Cycle! Boy!
He remembered that in the moments before he fell, he had intended to shoot the boy.
However, the moment he twirled his fingers, his vision shifted due to the vibration.
Chris's heart tightened, and he quickly looked out over the fender.
But at that moment the ship was already turning, and there was only the relentless sea wind outside the fenders.
He could only run around on the deck, trying to find the location of the other ship.
Finally, he saw the ship at the stern.
The people on the other side were equally panicked. They seemed to have forgotten Chris's order to kill the boy and began frantically working on the boat.
Damn it! Kill him! Kill that boy!
Chris hurriedly took out the crossbow bolts and then frantically loaded them.
He aimed at the boy and fired the crossbow bolt.
But now the two ships have already created some distance between them, and with his mediocre crossbow skills, he simply cannot hit the target.
Chris clenched his teeth so tightly they almost crushed them.
He turned around and shouted to the crew member behind him:
"Turn around! Go back!"
The helmsman looked back at Chris with a troubled expression, then shouted a few words to the captain who was giving instructions on the lower deck.
A woman with a high-pitched voice stepped forward and advised:
"Oh! Boss, we can't go back now!"
"I must go back, I must kill that boy, he's part of my cycle!"
"A loop?" The shrill voice blinked in confusion. "I don't understand what you mean, boss. I don't know what grudge you have with that boy, but we can't go back. The situation is extremely critical. Every second we delay in escaping increases our chances of being killed."
Deep down, Chris knew perfectly well that the high-pitched voice was the right thing to do.
But he just couldn't accept it.
He was determined to kill the boy, and he didn't hesitate at all this time, so why couldn't he succeed?
Chris's only remaining eye was almost bulged out by his angry glare.
He could only load the arrow and fire it at the boy's ever-shrinking figure.
Loading.
emission.
Loading.
emission.
The crossbow bolts pierced the sea breeze, weeping along with the Weeping Gorge, before falling into the water.
Die!
Go to hell!
Chris kept firing pointlessly toward the boy, blood seeping from under his blindfold, his mind racing.
This damned cycle of my fate—.
You should just die!