Six-Armed Serpent Demon

Page 8

She was quite surprised that this large beetle with the head of a vulture was actually an intelligent creature.

【I... cough, I just lost a servant and need a new one, hmm.】

[I'm willing, Master]

It responded fervently to her telepathy.

This made the reborn person marvel at their luck. They had just lost a loyal servant, and now another one had appeared?

She confirmed again:

Would you be willing to be my servant?

You are strong. I am hungry.

The Deinonychus's reply was rather urgent, but it was incoherent and seemed to indicate limited intelligence.

[Underground, eating, all meat]

The six-armed serpent demon glanced at the corpses scattered on the ground, frowned slightly, but then relaxed his brow.

Who cares, it's just making use of waste anyway.

Thinking of this, she suddenly recalled her past life on Earth, where she was overwhelmed by the tedious garbage sorting process. Once, after taking out the trash, she jokingly complained to her boyfriend:

"Tell me, if I were to kill someone and need to dispose of the body, what kind of waste would that person's body be? Recyclable waste, dry waste, wet waste, or hazardous waste?"

My boyfriend is a fair-skinned man with a refined and cultured demeanor, who wears gold-rimmed glasses.

He had just finished recording a game video with her and was preparing for the bar exam. So he looked up from his pile of reference books, adjusted his glasses, and looked at her.

She liked the way he adjusted his glasses when he was thinking; it was very cool.

When you see someone you like focused on doing something, you always find them more and more adorable.

"Humans are also animals, so under normal circumstances we can refer to the classification of small animal carcasses, which should be classified as perishable waste, and thus as wet waste."

Men always think deeply and plan carefully before acting, no matter what they do.

He pondered for a moment, then said slowly, "But considering that you're going to dispose of the body, it must involve decomposing the body and how to process the DNA so that the police can't identify it."

She started laughing, thinking it was a funny joke, but as she listened, she gradually felt a chill run down her spine.

"As we all know, large bones are difficult to decompose and are classified as dry waste, not wet waste."

The man continued speaking slowly.

"And the detached flesh slices inevitably require chemicals to remove DNA. You can refer to the hydrofluoric acid dissolution process in 'Breaking Bad' for this. Such chemically treated flesh should be considered hazardous waste."

"Based on the above two points, when a murder is committed and the body is disposed of, two processes are involved: decomposition and destruction of DNA. What is disposed of should be dry waste and hazardous waste."

He smiled at her gently.

"Moreover, simply disposing of the body is not the best option, after all, there are too many surveillance cameras in China. If I were to commit murder, I would choose to travel abroad to places with relatively chaotic and underdeveloped security, such as India, Latin America, or Eastern Europe, stay for ten days to half a month, destroy the evidence after the murder, and then report the person as missing. The local police will not care about Chinese people, and the Chinese police cannot reach there either. It is also hard to say whether those places still use garbage sorting; I would have to check the data."

In his past life, Chu Shixin could only smile blankly, unsure how to answer.

Suddenly, the reborn six-armed serpent demon looked up to the sky and roared, a sound that seemed to be both laughing and crying.

The demonic chorus of dozens of voices suddenly amplified, becoming deafening, as if stirring up an overwhelming storm in the circular basement.

It was an uncontrollable rage and hatred, and a grief so profound it felt like death.

All the iron cages rattled and creaked from the vibrations.

The creatures in the cage trembled violently, defecating and urinating indiscriminately.

When the long howl subsided, all was quiet, even the distant roars of beasts and chirping of birds outside the ventilation shaft ceased.

Two streams of hot tears involuntarily slid down her cheeks.

She wiped it off casually and flicked it away lightly.

The glowing demonic tears fell onto the stone floor, making a hissing sound and igniting several clusters of emerald flames.

He didn't know when it started, but his and her arguments escalated into a cold war.

The cold atmosphere in the rented room made her both sad and scared. She wanted to make up, but she didn't know how to start the conversation.

So when he suggested they take a trip together to clear their minds and rediscover their feelings for each other, she readily agreed.

Now, the reborn person remembers everything clearly.

When the ashtray hit her forehead, they were in South America, on their tenth day of staying there.

The reborn one halted the memories, and the telepathic dinosaur said: "Come out."

She reached out a hand, grabbed the cage door, and gave it a yank. The iron cage bars and hinges groaned and twisted.

The next second, the fence gate had been ripped off the iron cage by the female demon.

The Deinonychus was already kneeling in awe inside the cage.

Hearing the sound, it remained kneeling and peered out from the gap in the cage door. Lowering its vulture head, it gently tapped the stone slab near the tail of the six-armed serpent demon with its hooked beak as a sign of submission.

She giggled: "Eat up, it's all your food."

She watched with satisfaction as the Devilclaw monster spread out on all fours from her tail, pounced on a corpse, and began to devour it.

She muttered to herself, her voice filled with hatred and resentment: "I swear by the bottomless abyss and my demonic true name, I will return and find you... even if it takes countless light-years and shatters countless crystal walls!"

The jade-like vertical pupils emitted a cold, eerie light.

"When the time comes, I'll let you experience over and over again how I categorize things, you piece of trash."

The night is as cold as water.

The current "Supreme Illusion" of Samarach, Archmage Zaire, stood with his hands behind his back at the top of the Stargazing Tower, gazing at the deep iron-gray sky.

The Archmage of Zaire wore a purple linen robe embroidered with gold thread, which subtly revealed the muscular lines of his shoulders and arms.

He was over 140 years old, but his complexion was rosy and his skin was still as delicate as a baby's.

Behind the crystal glasses were a pair of brown eyes. Those eyes always seemed to be smiling.

His hair was jet black and meticulously combed, styled into a bun on top of his head. He had a goatee, just as black as his hair, around his mouth.

"News from Toril: Queen Sinbu is dead."

A voice hissed in his ear. It was Zaire's magical pet, a little devil with bright red skin.

Zaire raised his hand and gently adjusted his glasses.

"What happened?" he asked calmly. "Wasn't she treated by Elminster and her entire body transformed into tangible silver fire energy?"

The little devil replied, "Manjushri betrayed Elminster, destroying his body. To resurrect Elminster, Simb sacrificed himself, his soul turning to nothingness."

The Archmage of Zaire shook his head regretfully.

“Love,” he said, “is too foolish.”

He suddenly changed the subject: "How is our ally?"

"We were defeated."

The little devil said, "The armies of the Dragonborn and Elementals have completely destroyed His forces and have successfully divided the Entherian territory into three parts. The six Entherian cities in the east have already surrendered to the Elementals—and soon, the great God-King Giljin will be asking us for help."

The Archmage of Zaire remained silent.

After a long pause, He finally spoke slowly: "He is very stubborn. Is He still sticking to that crazy plan?"

The little devil shrugged.

"Who knows? The thought of revenge against Daenerys filled His heart. He dreamed of returning to Toril to take revenge on Daenerys."

The little devil chuckled.

"But He certainly wouldn't guess that you don't want to go back."

"I don't want to go back."

"The Grand Master of Zaire said with disgust."

"What's there to miss about that playground where the gods played with us? Look at them, thinking themselves powerful, but they're nothing but pathetic worms dependent on the magic network. Ever since the magic network collapsed and the blue flames of the magic plague swept across the world, those countless mad fools... Isn't Planet Abel good enough?"

A spark of magical flame ignited at his fingertips.

"Since Samarach was torn apart from Toril by the energy of the collapsing magic network and transported here, I have finally felt the air of freedom. There is no constraint of the magic network, nor the influence of the gods. Magic is so free."

Under his gaze, the magical flames stretched and transformed, growing hands, feet, and wings, taking on the shape of a little flower fairy.

The newly born fire spirits circled around Archmage Zaire, flying around with light laughter.

“Magic is life force,” he muttered to himself. “To cast a spell, one must draw energy from the soul and flesh of living beings, not from that abominable web of lies. That is the true essence of magic.”

The little devil chuckled.

"It sounds like the nine levels of hell."

The Archmage of Zaire smiled, his mouth slowly spreading to both sides, all the way to his ears, revealing the nail-like teeth of the great demon of purgatory.

"Yes, my friend, it is indeed similar to the nine levels of hell."

He said nostalgically, then looked up at the sky.

Behind the gentle moonlight lay a place beyond his sight. He knew that there lay another aquamarine planet, almost identical to the one beneath his feet, in Abel.

That is the jewel in the crystal wall, the twin star of Abel, the arena where gods and humans vie for power, Toril.

The little devil didn't bother him.

After a long while, it slowly spoke: "There's one more thing, I think you might be interested in."

The great demon, now in Zaire, reached out and gently scooped up the fire sprite that chuckled like a silver bell. He let the little creature flutter its wings of flame in his palm.

He said casually, "Tank is back?"

"I drifted down the Samar River and was found by fishermen who rescued me and brought me back to life."

"This body's cousin has some brains, but he's a good-for-nothing at heart."

Zaire said lazily, "I don't think you would feel you should specifically tell me this... Anything else, just say it all at once."

"He encountered a six-armed snake demon."

The devil and the demon are natural enemies, but Zaire showed no interest in this discovery: "Continue."

So the little devil excitedly chuckled again, laughing for a full minute before finally speaking.

"He said that the six-armed snake demon told him her name was Chu Shixin—isn't that interesting?"

For a moment, it seemed as if the air had frozen.

Zaire became expressionless.

He slowly closed his five fingers, and the tiny fire sprite was held in his palm.

The silvery laughter turned into a short, mournful wail.

Sparks of magic leaked from Zaire's fingers and drifted in the night breeze.

He adjusted his glasses with the hand that had crushed the fire sprite.

“Interesting,” he said, his tone still calm, but his voice trembled slightly, a hint of excitement surfacing amidst his chilling killing intent. “You’re right, it really is very interesting.”

Chapter 9 Their Own Paths of Reincarnation

The Archmage of Zaire dismissed the little devils and walked slowly down the observatory alone.

The damp sea breeze, heavy with moisture, ruffled the hem of his clothes.

How long have I been reborn into this world?

He gave a self-deprecating laugh.

The last time this question crossed Zaire's mind was when he was a lowly lesser demon.

After all, compared to the series of earth-shattering upheavals after reincarnation, the mundane life in the previous life was nothing at all.

It's been so long since I've heard that name.

What were the specific reasons that led you to decide to kill her in your past life?

He can't remember anymore.

But with that name, the disgust and hatred that surged again in my heart, as well as the excruciating pain of the last moments before reincarnation, lingered and could not be shaken off.

A sudden outburst of human emotion is often the result of extreme restraint. A series of trivial, insignificant conflicts accumulate over time, eventually leading to a qualitative change and a quantitative change.