I'm Really A Newcomer

This time was packed into a bucket with a capacity of more than a month.

Under the oracle, the torrent of time for nearly ten thousand years continued to overflow from the bucket filled with water.

Ever since Bairong first tore Jiang Mian's spirit apart, the dark tide in this space has been raging for ten thousand years, and Jiang Mian has been reshaped millions of times.

…

"why why why!"

Bailong, who had destroyed Jiang Mian for the thousandth time, excitedly restrained the dying Jiang Mian. His neck was as fragile as a dead tree that had been rotten for countless years, but it would recover in the next second.

Jiang Mian's pale lips moved slightly, and the sticky black tide poured into his throat mercilessly.

…

Bailong, who has nowhere to hide under the real dragon, desperately wants to regain face from the "weak" human being in front of him, just like he tortured the sacrifices he sent during the hundreds of years of house arrest.

One sword, two swords, nine thousand swords.

Some of the burly men who seemed to be taller and taller were already pissed off just by the breath of its majestic face, while more people could not help but collapse emotionally after two or three stabs.

The limit that Bairong had tried on tens of thousands of human sacrifices was 2,500 knives. It clearly remembered the woman with brown eyes ninety years ago. Bairong just counted the knives one by one, the ruthless wind blade was precise. And cruelly cut across her already riddled body.

At the 2501st stab, she finally cried in despair after compromising, and Bairong squeezed her body like a candle in the wind...

It stared at the woman's slightly undulating trachea. Under the beautiful face, only the white bones with broken roots were swaying in the wind.

All of this brings great satisfaction to Bairong's twisted spiritual world.

Even if the soul remains unyielding, the human body will always die first.

But at this moment, it was only Jiang Mian's spirit that accepted Ling Chi.

The crystal-clear flesh without any blood was brutally peeled off from his body.

Although the book said that ten fingers are connected to the heart, Jiang Mian now knew that directly gouging out the heart would be more painful than cutting off his fingers.

Maybe that's beyond the scope of pain.

At first, Jiang Mian would shout out uncontrollably, but his dying spirit kept recovering before it truly collapsed... and then Bailong cut it into minced meat and dregs.

What comes over and over again is Jiang Mian's near-eternal pain.

Jiang Mian, who was at the bottom of the black tide, looked up at the glimmer of light above his head with his newly reshaped head.

That shouldn't be an illusion, Jiang Mian twitched the corners of his mouth silently, as if he was smiling.

He remembered that he had a big fall while running in the first grade. At that time, his classmates gathered around him and laughed.

Crying child, you will become a very strong person in the future.

…

There were two porcelain white hands clutching his arms.

"You...can't kill me." Jiang Mian said softly.

Jiang Mian always speaks softly, because words are more powerful than louder ones.

So even though Jiang Mian was too weak to move at this moment, his words were still very powerful.

"I have two life-saving straws." He thought to himself.

So even if every pore in the body is suffering from the pain of suffocation, even if the body is devastated under the hanging...

You can't kill me.

Even a thousand or ten thousand times.

Thousands of years, ten thousand years.

…

Bloodthirsty, rage, doubt, exhaustion, begging for mercy.

By the end of Ten Thousand Years, Bailong could no longer tell whose body the knife struck.

"Please die quickly, please." Bairong said almost begging.

"Go to hell, go to hell, go to hell, go to hell..." Bai Rong muttered as if chanting sutras.

Every knife struck on Jiang Mian's body would pierce a shallow thorn in Bai Rong's spirit.

When there were so many knives that Bairong didn't want to deliberately count them, Jiang Mian gradually got used to them.

"Terrible."

Habit is such a scary word.

In the face of habit, eternity seems to be just a moment.

"How is it possible...how is it possible..."

Bairong looked at Jiang Mian's eyes, which gradually became clearer, and his spirit was blooming with brilliant rays of light.

The executioner was already crumbling after wielding 100 million knives.

It has been exhausted.

…

The black tide gradually receded in sorrow, and the human beings drowning in the center of the lake no longer struggled.

Bai Rong who entered this world was almost as tall as Jiang Mian, and Jiang Mian stared at its face.

Getting used to it doesn't mean the pain disappears. Jiang Mian still endures the blows like a violent storm.

I don’t know how much time has passed.

Bairong must be tired.

For nearly a thousand years, Bairong tried all kinds of cruel methods to completely extinguish Jiang Mian's spirit, but in the end, only the most boring chopping was left.

Not daring to stop for a moment, just like drilling wood to make fire.

It was afraid that if it gave Jiang Mian a chance to take some time off, all its previous efforts would be wasted.

The shackled hostages slowly executed the executioners.

Bairong stopped talking and just chopped off Jiang Mian's body as emotionlessly as a machine.

The computer screen behind it still played the gray sky of Dragon's Nest.

In the course of thousands of years, there will be many moments when the unknown grass will move across the sky extremely slowly with the wind at the speed of one month outside.

But suddenly in the next moment, a few less obvious, colorful lights suddenly exploded in a corner of the dark sky.

Jiang Mian stared at the corner of the computer screen, his eyes gradually becoming clearer.

"ah."

fireworks.