Slaying God: I, the insane and witty god

At that moment, the air felt like it was filled with lead, so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

Wu Hen stared intently at the figure, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

The voice, barely audible, came out from between his teeth: "Old Lin, this joke has gone too far."

"What's this person doing here?"

Lin Qiye didn't reply. His gaze was fixed on the number "27" like a nail, and his hand unconsciously pressed down on the hilt of the knife.

This number is not just a code; in certain circles, it represents absolute rules of death and a taboo that keeps outsiders away.

"Don't stare." Lin Qiye suddenly turned his head and whispered a warning.

"Once you're locked in by his eyes, not even a god can save you."

Wu Hen abruptly withdrew his gaze; his back was already soaked with cold sweat.

The chill that shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head was even more terrifying than when I faced the bone dragon from the underworld.

It's a feeling of powerlessness, like being casually included in the diet of a top predator.

Just then, a roar like thunder rang out, causing rubble to fall from the pit.

"Loki!!!"

Thor finally snapped out of his daze after those few seconds.

Watching his brother's head fall to the ground, Thor's rationality snapped completely.

No fluff, no preamble.

Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, burst forth with a blinding white light.

Like a supernova compressed to its extreme, carrying immense thunder, it crashed down on the top of the dark figure's head.

At the same time, Hela, who had been in a state of shock, also moved.

"Save your life!"

Her half-skeletal face was contorted in a grotesque grimace, and her five fingers suddenly clenched into a fist.

Countless jet-black necromantic chains emerged from the void.

Like a venomous snake drawn by the scent of blood, it blocked all escape routes for the dark figure.

The two deities unleashed their fury, a force powerful enough to flatten the entire pit three times over.

However, the dark figure standing on the rock didn't even lift its eyelids.

Just as the hammer was about to touch his hood,

His figure suddenly vanished like a drop of ink falling into the sea, melting away without warning.

Boom——! !

Thunderous explosion.

The protruding rock instantly turned to dust, and a violent shockwave swept outwards.

Wu Hen and Lin Qiye, who were being shaken off their feet by the aftershocks, were forced to lower their bodies.

As the smoke and dust cleared, pebbles were scattered all over the ground.

The dark figure vanished completely, as if it had never existed.

There were no spatial fluctuations, no magical residue, and even the oppressive feeling brought by the number "27" evaporated along with it.

"Ran?!"

Thor stood in the center of the scorched earth, hammer in hand, his eyes bloodshot, pacing around like an enraged bull.

"Come out! Get out here! You think you can just run away after killing your brother?!"

He swung the hammer wildly, smashing the surrounding rock walls until they were riddled with craters, each blow an expression of his impotent rage.

"Alright, stop embarrassing yourself."

A cold voice pierced through Thor's roar.

Tyr had somehow ended up next to Loki's headless corpse.

The one-armed war god showed no sadness on his face, but rather a hint of disdain and mockery.

He kicked the corpse on the ground with his toe, as if he were kicking a bag of garbage.

"Look what this is."

Thor suddenly turned around and strode over.

He grabbed Tyr by the collar: "What do you mean?! He's dead! His head was chopped off right in front of us!"

"Dead? Then explain why this blood doesn't smell."

Tyr sneered and slapped Thor's hand away.

He bent down and wiped the severed neck of the "corpse."

Then he put his blood-stained fingers under Thor's nose.

Thor was taken aback and subconsciously sniffed.

It lacked the distinctive metallic smell and energy fluctuations of divine blood; instead, it emitted a nauseating stench and... the smell of rotten mud?

"This is..." Thor was dumbfounded.

Tyr crouched down and ripped open the corpse's chest with one hand.

Hiss.

The skin and flesh, which should have been firm, were torn open like rags, revealing not internal organs and bones at all.

Instead, it was a pile of rotten flesh and broken bones haphazardly stuffed in.

There were even a few ribs that had been taken from some mummified corpse, with bandages still wrapped around them.

"Substitute Death Formation".

Tyr casually tossed a piece of rotten flesh onto the ground, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands, his tone full of disgust.

"And it's the lowest grade one."

"It's just a shell pieced together from the corpses of hundreds of ordinary people, fooling the eye."

"And you call yourself his brother? You can't even tell?"

Thor gaped, looking at the mangled flesh on the ground, then at Tyr, his expression incredibly complex.

The transition from utter grief to bewilderment, and then to furious rage after being tricked, was incredibly smooth.

"This... bastard!!" Thor choked back for a long time before finally slamming his hammer down on the ground.

"He ran away again?!"

"Otherwise what? Stay here and wait for you to collect his corpse?"

Tyr stood up, his gaze thoughtfully sweeping over the spot where Number 27 had disappeared, his eyes darkening slightly.

"However, that guy who made the move just now... he's interesting."

"The aura that was purely for killing sent chills down my spine."

In the corner, Number 22 was huddled behind Lin Qiye. Upon hearing this, his expression changed.

She hesitated for a moment, then leaned close to Lin Qiye's ear.

He lowered his voice to a whisper: “Hey, charlatan, that number… I think I’ve seen it in the Secret Service’s top-secret files.”

“That’s the ‘Cleaner’ designation, they’re specifically responsible for…”

Lin Qiye turned his head sharply, a cold warning flashing in his eyes.

"Shut up."

Only two words, yet they cut off the second half of No. 22's sentence like a knife.

Number 22 was so frightened by that look that he swallowed the rest of his words.

Looking at Lin Qiye's expressionless face, her heart suddenly skipped a beat.

This guy... knows.

He absolutely knew who the assassin was.

Even the appearance of that assassin just now might not have been a coincidence.

A chill, even deeper than when facing Loki, crept up from the soles of my feet.

Number 22 wisely shrank back and closed his mouth like a clam.

In this group full of monsters, the less you know, the longer you survive.

at the same time.

Somewhere in the underworld, there is an underground cave known as the "Human Circle".

This is the most filthy and despairing place in the entire underworld.

Tens of thousands of mortal souls, who had been plundered, were crammed together and kept like livestock.

Suddenly, the once calm blood pool began to surge violently.

"Wow!"

A figure emerged from the blood in a disheveled state, panting heavily and trembling violently.

Loki.

He had lost all trace of the elegance of the god of trickery at this moment.

His emerald green robe was soaked with blood, and his handsome face was filled with terror and lingering fear.

He frantically groped his neck to make sure his head was still on his shoulder before collapsing onto the shore, completely exhausted.

"Madman...who is that?! Who on earth is that?!"

Loki clutched his head, his fingers digging into his hair, his pupils contracting violently.

Just a moment ago, he truly felt death.

This is not the usual petty threats, but a real, unavoidable end.

The shadowy figure made no unnecessary movements from its appearance to the moment it swung its knife.

That murderous intent, as cold as ten thousand years of ice, froze even his soul, which was that of a god.

If he hadn't set up this substitution formation that consumed the souls of ten thousand people beforehand, he would have really gone to see Hela's mother just now.

"Ten thousand... a full ten thousand souls!" Loki looked at the crowd around him, which had thinned out considerably, and his heart ached.

Those souls that were originally listless and wandering were instantly annihilated by a third because of that resurrection.

"This place is no longer safe to stay."

Loki shakily got to his feet, his eyes scanning the surrounding darkness with suspicion and uncertainty.

“That assassin… that madman with the '27' mask, he must still be nearby.”

"If he can kill me once, he can kill me a second time."

He must hide.

Loki gritted his teeth, his body contorting in pain.

His once tall and imposing figure quickly became hunched over, and his emerald green robe turned into tattered rags.

In the blink of an eye, he transformed into an inconspicuous, gaunt old man.

"As long as I blend into the crowd of ordinary people... yes, as long as I become an ordinary person, no one can find me."

He muttered to himself nervously, blending into the dazed crowd.

Like a frightened mouse, it hurriedly squeezed towards the exit.

As he walked, he was frantically calculating in his mind: "There's still 40,000 left... no, a little over 30,000."

"As long as we can get the rest of these to that place, the plan can still succeed... As long as I don't die, I haven't lost this round..."

Loki lowered his head, curled himself up into a ball, and walked quickly.

But he didn't realize it.

Right behind him, in that churning, bloody mist,

A nearly transparent shadow, seemingly not existing in this dimension, drifted silently over the pool of blood.

The shadow had no physical form, no breath, and even the number "27" was hidden in the darkness.

It was like the shadow of death, hanging neither too close nor too far behind that gaunt old man.

With each step he took, he seeped into that passage little by little.