Half-elf Ranger

"You're lying." Zombie Vanger smiled self-deprecatingly, revealing sharp teeth, especially the two fangs on both sides of the upper jaw, and he deliberately stretched out his scarlet tongue to lick it, in the dim candlelight There was a terrifying atmosphere.

Then, Vangel looked at the ranger sitting opposite, whose expression remained unchanged, with obvious displeasure in his expression:

"Thorn, I can feel that you are not only lying, you also have compassion for me deep down in your heart, which means that you are pity me for this ugly zombie, so you tell me to comfort me. A white lie."

Speaking of this, Fanger deliberately paused, and he saw the Ranger's eyes drooping slightly, silent, and continued:

"A white lie, yes, that kind of lie can really add color to life, because a lot of people would rather hear a hundred lies than a truth they don't want to hear.

But do you know that white lies are not seeking truth from facts, telling lies, lying, exaggerating, covering up, and distorting the truth. Starting from the analysis of the structure of the white lie, it is a partial phrase, and the central word is a lie, so a white lie is essentially a lie.

In my opinion, the "lie" itself is dark, the likes and dislikes of things are not measured by the purpose of things, and a white lie is a lie in itself. Although it took off the dirty beggar's clothes and successfully put on the luxurious robes, it still couldn't get rid of the essence of its lie, and a lie means deception.

Yes, the starting point of a white lie is kind, but often once such a lie is exposed, the damage to the other party will be deeper, which is more painful than rubbing salt on the wound, although I cannot feel physical pain. . "

"And you, a ranger named Thorne, a living person who broke into this deadly town without knowing what to do."

Zombie Vanger pointed his finger at Thorne on the opposite side, and put his hand flat on the table: "Your lies are too unreasonable, you are so confident that I, this zombie who is silent here, is lonely, lonely and lonely. helpless."

"Isn't it?" Thorne, who was listening on the side, finally couldn't help but take a sentence. He looked at the serious look of the other party and was about to be amused by him.

"When you stick half of your stiff body out of the window and almost fall comically down to perform head-on acrobatics on our silent journey, you insist on saying hello to us. You won't see your eager look any worse. It's all written on your face, is there anything strange about it? Or is your ego playing tricks?"

"Please, I'm a decent person, a person without self-esteem is equivalent to inferiority, so a decent person doesn't want to be a person with inferiority." Zombie Vanger sat up straight, his tone was a little more serious, and emphasized to Thorne:

"However, you ruthlessly exposed my scars, and foolishly tried to use flawed lies to pity me, pity me, and pity me. What you don't know is that to me, your words mean nothing to me. It seems to instantly awaken the most violent and sharp pain hidden deep in my heart, like the wound that has been scarred by your **** with a red-hot iron."

"Is it that serious?" Thorne looked at the excited Mr. Zombie with tears in his eyes.

If he is a living person, his expression must be very wonderful at this time.

At least not like the one in front of him, his pale face is a bit penetrating.

"It's that serious." Zombie's stubborn appearance is like a rebellious child who only knows death.

His tone increased a bit again, and he said fiercely: "What I hate most in my life is the so-called 'white lie' that you self-righteous people say.

You tell me that is a lie? Where is the goodwill? ! That is kindness! Why lie! ?

This is like a terminally ill person. In order to let him live the rest of his life peacefully, his relatives and friends have all concealed him. There is no malice or selfishness in this, but it is often not satisfactory, and deception cannot last. On the contrary, the patient loses the rationality to cooperate with the treatment and the opportunity to deal with personal affairs.

Philosopher Cicera Polk warns that such lies can put people on the verge of a personal downturn. She writes in "Lying, Moral Choices in Public and Private Life," that when psychological barriers are removed, the ability to distinguish between truth and falsehood becomes more blurred, and the notion that a lie cannot be detected may tend to Paranoid..."

"But I didn't lie." Thorne, who was sitting upright, put his hands together on the table and looked at the zombie calmly.

"You didn't lie? Damn it! You said you didn't lie, and you said I shouldn't be a zombie. But do you see what I look like?"

Zombie jumped up from the chair in excitement. He put his hands on the table, leaned forward slightly, stared at Thorne with dimly lit eyes, and then pointed his fingers to his pale face, guiding the Ranger's gaze towards here:

"Look carefully! Look at my handsome face, it's not as soft as it used to be, and its color is not as rosy as it used to be, because I can't use Mandela potions, pearls and milk to take care of it carefully."

The zombie talked, and in Thorne's eyes, his excitement was inexplicably calmed down again.

It can be seen from this that in addition to being more talkative, this Mr. Zombie also has brain problems to varying degrees.

However, Thorne thought it was understandable, which was why he was so patient with each other in small talk.

Anyone who has been turned into an undead and stayed alone for hundreds of years cannot guarantee that he will not have any problems.

Thinking of this, Thorne looked at Zombie Vanger with sympathy.

I saw him comfortably return to his seat again, stretched out the portrait above the fireplace, and reminded:

"If you don't believe me, you can look at what I was like, there are several very well preserved paintings there. Counting from the chimney, the first... sorry, you don't have to count, because these three paintings are all mine. Own.

You know, this is what I hired a portrait artist to draw for me at a great price, and I also specially asked the wizard to help me to keep a simple spell to make it immune to the erosion of the years, and luckily it has been preserved to this day.

Thorne, let me tell you the truth. The reason why I put so much effort into making these portraits is actually to pave the way for the establishment of new aristocrats, so that my descendants can see the glory of their first elders, and they must be passed down like the history of rolling wheels. Who would have thought..."

"I've seen it." Thorne didn't follow the zombie's suggestion to look up stupidly, but hesitated a little and said in a flat tone:

"I have to say, you look really perfect in the painting, especially the arrogant eyes that impressed me the most. Even if I don't have to look closely, I feel as if a pair of eyes are staring at me from above Same. It's a heart-pounding feeling...like..."

"Like what?" Zombie quickly asked.

"It's like a **** looking down on... a humble mortal." Thorne rubbed his forehead and replied with a random word he didn't know whether it was applicable or not.

"As expected of a ranger, your insight is really nuanced. In my opinion, you can definitely be a great ranger..." Zombie Vanger grinned when he heard Thorne's praise, without saying anything. He was stingy with his praise for the Ranger, and then said proudly:

"Do you know what I have paid to maintain this perfect appearance? In order to make myself the most dazzling wealthy businessman in Dawning Town, I often attend various parties. In those parties, there are many socialites, beautiful aristocratic ladies, even those who have not yet Married noble lady. Like a humble and studious student, I ask them how to dress up, how to make myself more radiant, how to…”

"Wait until I'm done talking." Thorne reached out to interrupt the zombie's endless self-show, and said solemnly: "To be honest, that lifelike portrait does match your words of praise without any seriousness."

"Of course." The zombie held its head high, like a peacock with an open screen.

"But..." Thorne deliberately paused, and then a smile appeared on his calm face. He crossed his legs, leaned comfortably on the back of the chair, and without looking at it, he pointed to the middlemost portrait above the fireplace:

"Don't you know? The technique of painting with ease in order to please customers is a necessary skill for every portrait artist. That is to say, the more famous the portrait artist is, the more skilled he is, because they It is very clear how to apply the portrait to near perfection.”

"I...I..." Zombie Vanger blinked at himself with a smirk when he saw the ranger opposite, he didn't know how to refute this sentence for a while.

In fact, he really wanted to refute, but he realized how disgusting he was telling the 'white lie' to the other party just now.

Obviously, if he retorted, he would undoubtedly be slapping himself in the face, even though he didn't feel any pain.

"Okay, let's stop chatting, Mr. Vangel." Thorne sat up straight, put down his upturned legs, and played with a pottery teacup on the table in his hand, and said with a smile:

"Let's get down to business, if I waste too much time here, I'm worried that my friends will rush up desperately and purify your helpless zombie."

Through some small talk, he has confirmed the true strength of this zombie.

In addition to his self-consciousness and being very sober, his own strength is the same as that of ordinary zombies, or even inferior to ordinary zombies.

Because of this, I have a doubt in my heart.

That is why they were discovered by this ordinary zombie under the protection of Kevlar's "Undead Concealment", almost unimpeded.

"Where did we just say?" Thorne, who was a little dizzy and surrounded by zombies, patted his forehead and asked.

As soon as he said these words, he began to regret it. Because he didn't think that a zombie with a bad mind would remember the subject that was about to be discussed.

"You said that I am not a zombie. The reason why I became what I am today is definitely not because of luck, but for other reasons." Zombie Vanger unexpectedly remembered the content of the conversation between the two.

"Thorn, I dare to ask you a question." Vanger looked hesitant, and said, "Are you really just a ranger?"

"Why do you ask that?" Thorne looked curiously at the serious-looking zombie.

"In my perception, the role of the Ranger is not as prominent as I imagined, in addition to exploring the path and tracking the prey." Vangel said:

"But the feeling you give me is extraordinary, so I temporarily believe that your guess just now is not a white lie to comfort me."

"It wasn't originally." Thorne muttered in his heart and asked, "Then, Mr. Vangel, can you tell me how you discovered us? To be honest, I don't feel any special power in you. , which also includes free magic elements and negative energy."

"Actually, I don't know it myself." Vangel scratched his head in confusion, "Since I became an undead, this knowledge has been inexplicably stuck in my mind.

I can even naturally see you walking under my nose, and I can accurately identify what spell it is, but I just don't know where these bizarre knowledge come from. "

"That's why I don't think you should be a zombie." Thorne was silent for a moment and looked at the zombie Vanger:

"And the reason why you turned into a zombie is likely to be hidden in a corner of the whole town. If you find out these secrets, all problems will be solved."

Thorne managed to steer the conversation between the two on what he really cared about.

"I know, but before we discuss this issue, please answer my question first." Zombie Vanger nodded and looked at the opposite ranger curiously:

"Are you really just a ranger? Why do I sense a familiar aura in you, but if I think about it carefully, I can't remember anything."

Familiar smell?

Thorne was startled, and quickly guessed the reason.

"It's normal. Maybe it was a glimpse of the world that was inadvertently, or it may be that all encounters are reunions after a long absence."

He did not continue to explore this topic, but replied in a perfunctory manner, again guiding it to the issue of his concern:

"Mr. Vangel, since you know the whole town very well, can you tell me what's so strange about this space?"

Hearing Thorne's question, Vanger was still confused about the previous question.

Thorne waited patiently for about ten minutes, and the confused zombie raised his eyelids and said, "Go out from the gate on the north side of the town, about two kilometers away, there is an altar of the undead Lord Orbis."

"The altar of Orbis?" Thorne looked at the zombie whose eyes were restored to clarity. "There is even an altar of the demon monarch here. Facing the demon's lair, why is your town still preserved to this day."

"I'm not sure about that." Zombie shook his head slightly, "Maybe it's because a long corridor full of statues blocking the altar and the town is at work."