Home I'm Already the Richest Man, Why Did My System Just Arrive? Chapter 244 - 161: "Returning to a Normal Human

I'm Already the Richest Man, Why Did My System Just Arrive?

Chapter 244 - 161: "Returning to a Normal Human
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Chapter 244: Chapter 161: "Returning to a Normal Human

Zheng Xiu gripped his head with both hands, his eyes shot with blood.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

BZZZZT—

It was as if an invisible sledgehammer was pounding on his skull, blow by blow, until it smashed a great hole. Then, the hammer plunged into the pulpy white of his brain, churning it back and forth until all that remained was a piercing, static buzz.

Pain.

The prisoner cart became the epicenter of a black hole, sucking in all the surrounding moonlight and the color of blood. It was an abyss of pure darkness and malice.

"Younger Brother Gongsun..."

"Younger Brother Gongsun!"

Chu Chengfeng’s anxious voice called to him. Though Chu Chengfeng was right there supporting him, his voice, which should have been inches away, seemed to grow more and more distant, more and more faint.

"Don’t kill me..."

"Help..."

"AHHH—"

"It’s a ghost! A ghost!"

Just then, a cacophony of voices erupted in Zheng Xiu’s ears—the voices of the old, the young, women, and children. The jumbled chorus of men and women, young and old alike, at first seemed to be right beside him, but soon, the sounds began to emanate from the very depths of his mind.

’Who... who are you people?’

The shrieks and screams echoing in his mind belonged to none of the people currently fighting over the prisoner cart.

No one answered Zheng Xiu.

In fact, the question never even left "Gongsun Mo’s" lips.

The scene before Zheng Xiu’s eyes grew hazy and surreal. Figures moved and blades flashed, but to him, everything was cast in an inky shadow.

As if in a fog, as if in a dream.

"Younger Brother Gongsun! Younger Brother Gongsun!"

Amidst the dual torment of headache and noise, a gruff voice cracked like a clap of thunder.

In that instant, the noise, the screams, the wails—they all vanished from Zheng Xiu’s ears, as if they had never existed.

"What are you spacing out for! Let’s go!"

As the pain in his head subsided, Zheng Xiu felt as if he were waking from a long dream. He found himself in a brightly lit grove of trees.

At some point, the dark clouds had been scattered by the wind. The bright moonlight, like a layer of silver foil, spread resplendently across the earth.

Chu Chengfeng, covered in blood, walked ahead. On his shoulder, he carried a—

a...

person?

Zheng Xiu was stunned when he saw the "person" Chu Chengfeng was carrying on his shoulder.

If the scene before Zheng Xiu’s eyes was a painted scroll, then the figure on Chu Chengfeng’s shoulder was like a piece that had been violently torn out.

The humanoid "shadow" was curled up, long shackles swinging back and forth behind Chu Chengfeng. In Zheng Xiu’s eyes, the person was completely shrouded in a layer of distorted blackness, their form impossible to make out.

The only reason Zheng Xiu thought it might be a person was because its silhouette was human.

The bizarre sight made Zheng Xiu halt in his tracks. A cold sweat had broken out on his back, soaking his clothes. When a chilly wind blew past, he shivered instinctively. Only then did he notice that his hands and feet were trembling uncontrollably.

Zheng Xiu clenched his sweaty palms. He had no idea how he’d gotten here; it was as if a piece of time had been fast-forwarded. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened while his head was hurting.

’Where am I? What time is it? Who am I?’ None of these questions mattered to Zheng Xiu right now.

Zheng Xiu was inexplicably certain of one thing: the "person" on Chu Chengfeng’s back—the black shadow in Gongsun Mo’s memory that was nothing but pure "fear"—had to be the key to Cracking the Cannibal Painting.

In that moment, Zheng Xiu felt as if he had become Gongsun Mo.

Not the Gongsun Mo of this time and place, but the Gongsun Mo from some other time, some other place—the one who painted this scroll in a state of pure "fear."

Gongsun Mo had, through some special means, deeply imprinted his state of mind onto the scroll when he created the "Cannibal Painting"—an inexpressible terror. And now, through this same unusual method, Zheng Xiu was tasting that "fear" from across two hundred years!

’What are you carrying on your back?’

But the words that came out of Zheng Xiu’s mouth were: "Brother Chu... HUFF... HUFF... I really... can’t... run... anymore! Why don’t... you go on... without me?"

Chu Chengfeng suddenly drew closer, his expression turning fierce. "How could I abandon you!"

Zheng Xiu: "But what about Brother Xiao! Brother Xiao, he..."

This question came from Gongsun Mo.

Zheng Xiu quickly forced himself to calm down. He had been through this kind of thing before.

’This must be something like a ’forced narrative’ state,’ he thought. ’My memories are blending with Gongsun Mo’s, and right now, Gongsun Mo has the upper hand.’

He could tell the difference.

The "shadow" on Chu Chengfeng’s back, with its bizarre distortion, was something only Gongsun Mo’s perspective could perceive.

Or rather, that person held a place of great significance in Gongsun Mo’s memory, even influencing his state of mind when he painted the Cannibal Painting.

He’d had a mental breakdown back then, which was why the painting was so distorted and why the memory was affected.

But Zheng Xiu had seen his share of trouble, and he quickly calmed down. He then noticed that Chu Chengfeng’s clothes were soaked in blood. His breathing was ragged and his face pale; he had clearly been through a vicious fight while Zheng Xiu was incapacitated. The blood staining his clothes belonged to others, but also to Chu Chengfeng himself.

The answer was obvious.

’The National Preceptor!’

’It’s the Former Imperial Tutor from the prisoner cart!’

Zheng Xiu looked at Chu Chengfeng in astonishment.

’He’s really been hiding his strength!’

’I don’t know the details of how it happened,’ he thought, ’but to snatch the Former Imperial Tutor from a crowd of Martial World masters and Court elites... Chu Chengfeng’s rank on the Weapon Manual can’t possibly be just thirty-eighth.’

’That Weapon Manual is full of crap.’

Hearing this, Chu Chengfeng fell silent for a moment, swaying on his feet and nearly collapsing. He shook his head. "Don’t worry. Xiao Buping’s combat skills might be average, but his Qinggong is peerless. When it comes to escaping, no one is better than him. Otherwise—"

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