Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

"(Rose City expletive)!"

With a curse in a typical Rose City accent, Constance's tall but thin body was pressed against the wall by a big hand. All her weapons were knocked down in the distance, while the shadow spirit Yelena could only look over here anxiously, unable to free her hands from the fake Seymour's relentless pursuit.

When both parties possess a certain degree of extraordinary power, the difference caused by gender is usually reduced or even ignored, but when they have not completely deviated from the category of "ordinary people", this gap cannot be ignored.

"I advise you not to come over here, you ugly thing," the paint on the clown's face made him look like he was making an exaggerated laugh towards Yelena. His hands tightly gripped Constance's throat, constantly exerting force, and all the half-elf could do was struggle with all his might, but it all seemed in vain.

Under normal circumstances, she would never be subdued so easily, but the poison on the flying knives had already penetrated into her body and took effect quickly due to the fight just now. At this moment, Constance felt as if she had only slept for two hours in a whole week. Not to mention that she had no strength in her whole body, even when she looked at the murderer who was about to kill her, the funny smiling face had three to five duplicates.

"Hehehehe! A truly good killer doesn't necessarily have to use brute force. Ingenious calculations are also an indispensable quality!" The clown laughed smugly, "Otherwise, silly girl? Why do you think I came out to play with you? Even if it's this guy who offered a bounty of 500,000 gold coins in Yungang, he's not my boss, and he can't control me!"

"Stop pretending, clown," the fake Seymour snorted coldly, swung his knife behind him, and accurately fought with Yelena who was hiding in the dark. "Since you are really so unruly, how about you practice with me alone after this order is returned?"

"You..." The paint on the clown's face was still laughing, but his true expression became gloomy - the other party was not a good guy, he just pretended to be crazy to help himself achieve his goal, but the other party was a real madman.

No one likes dealing with a true lunatic, even another lunatic.

"Then it's settled..." The fake Seymour raised his hand and slashed twice again. This was the best time.

The shadow spirit was a little confused by Constance's capture, and her speaking gave her a false flaw. When the shadow dancer tried to get in, that was when she died.

However, before the fake Seymour could finish his words, an arrow shot from nowhere suddenly hit the blade of the scimitar. The huge force almost made the sword fly out of his hand, let alone cut!
With a crisp "snap" sound, one of the fake Seymour's shoulder blades was instantly pierced and shattered by the spiked chain. The killer didn't even have time to scream in pain. He struggled for his life and let the barbs hook the flesh on his hands. After pulling out the chain, he retreated madly!

"Who is there?!"

"Ah!" Almost at the same time, the clown on the other side was hit on the back of the head. The iron-clad wooden stick might not have a significant effect on the thick-skinned frost giant, but if it hit the back of the head of an ordinary human, it would not be uncommon for the part above the neck to be smashed into mud.

However, the person who attacked was obviously very measured. The clown just rolled his eyes, let out a strange cry, and fainted, lying on the ground like a dead dog.

"Connie!" A figure in heavy armor strode out and hugged Constance, who had purple and black finger marks on her neck. The clown definitely didn't have anything good in his hands. It looked like they were all coated with medicine like the flying knives.

But these are all trivial matters, because, they are back. The priest of Heim stepped forward and immediately began to treat Constance. "Benefactor, are you sure this is the real one? We just saw several clowns, some of them were even hiding so secretly that they couldn't be more secretive." Sylvia waved her hand to cancel the Richthofen Dark Magic. There was a certain amount of shadow in the dark alley, and the two killers were not masters of arcane magic. It was harder than climbing to the sky to see through her magic.

They had not just arrived here. They had just arrived outside when the town started to get chaotic. When they saw that guy Ivender bared his fangs, they asked Shuke and Elden to stay outside, and they secretly entered the city, waiting for an opportunity to take action.

"To distinguish between the real and fake avatars, one must not only pay attention to their appearance, but also their movements, tone of voice and other aspects. A true master will switch the behaviors of the real and fake avatars at the right time to completely deceive others," Ron walked out slowly, holding a magic box that would no longer be triggered after the mechanism was removed. "But this guy only learned the appearance, and his grasp of timing is not accurate. It's not too difficult for him to guess."

Ron had seen virtual characters with similar mechanisms before and had a general understanding of their psychology. After observing for a while, he easily guessed the other party's "reverse thinking" of using the real body to replace the fake one.

Of course, the reason why Ron dared to make such a bold guess was because their strength was no longer on the same level as that of the clown. Even if he guessed wrong, it would not be a big deal. He could just kill all of this guy's bodies.

"You...are back," Constance, who was held in her cousin's cold and hard arms, slowly woke up and gave everyone a weak smile, "Be careful, it's fake, Seymour, and..."

"Don't worry about that," Ivy said, leaning Constance against the wall. It was not clear whether Constance's full body armor or the ground was more comfortable. "We are all back. We will take care of it."

Ron nodded and turned to look at the suspicious fake Seymour: "Did Evander send you?"

"Are you, the lord here?" Facing Ron's gaze, the fake Seymour couldn't help but take two steps back, "Sir, I'm just doing the work for money, it's not worth it--"

In the eyes of the clown, he was a real madman because he had no regard for other people's lives and could trample on them easily. He even didn't care about his own body, so he was able to get rid of the thorn chain even though he was injured.

But this does not mean that he does not cherish his own life. In other words, it is precisely because he despises others that his own life seems so precious.

But this is just his personal perspective, just like how he sees others. After discovering that his own territory and friends have been messed up, this fake Seymour is far from being "human" in the eyes of everyone.

"Kill him, that guy is almost here." Ron waved his hand, and Driver came out immediately with a short bow, looking at the fake Seymour as if he were his prey.

"Don't worry, you will definitely not get any good in my hands..." (End of this chapter)