The Fairy Just Wants To Lie Down

  Chapter 139 I pray to you

   A week later, the World Fighting Competition is in full swing, and 27 games have been completed so far.

  The number of people in each game is about 100, and nearly 3,000 people have died so far. 17 winners have been determined, and 10 of them have gained supernatural power.

  And why only 17 winners in 27 games?

  The main reason is death due to serious injuries. A deathmatch with real swords and guns is not a game, and the blood bar of victory will not be full. Often after a fight, no one is intact, and fatal injuries are common. Therefore, if they want to survive, they must not only kill other people, but also ensure that they do not suffer too serious injuries.

  Other than that, the only thing left is to comprehend a certain dao rhyme from the fragments of the heavenly dao, so as to obtain a certain level of cultivation.

  The vitality of a monk is unmatched by others. Even during the Qi training period, his ability to withstand injuries is far superior to that of ordinary people, and he can bear many fatal injuries.

  The above information network has been sorted out by someone, and a very detailed strategy has been made. Many Internet bloggers have shot related videos, teaching people **** with a knife, how to escape in the venue or play dead. The former blogger of digital, electronic food psychology, etc., suddenly became a master of martial arts, a master of martial arts.

  Maybe it’s all on paper, listening to them will definitely lead to a miserable death. But it is also enough to show the popularity of this game. Almost everywhere there is a network, there are "World Fighting Championships".

  Whether you are a two-dimensional platform, a political platform, a social platform, or even an illegal pornographic website. As long as there is a place for discussion, there will be discussions about fighting competitions.

   There is a desire for bonuses, there is criticism of such barbarism, and more a desire for supernatural power. From ancient times to the present, the pursuit of extraordinary power has never been cut off, from the princes and generals down to the common people without exception.

  On the walls that used to be full of graffiti, there are portraits of the winners of the Budo Tournament. On the huge advertising screen next to the road, the game screen was also broadcast.

  In the betting shop on the street, there are also betting items for the World Martial Arts Conference. Bet on the number of survivors after how many minutes, bet on the end time, bet on the winner, and the odds are at least 50 times.

   The highest odds for civilian children and women are thousands of times, adult men are generally 30 times, and some people who look very strong or have special occupations fluctuate up to 10 times. For example, the odds of a heavyweight boxing champion are only 1.5 times, which is ridiculously low.

  A man in a worn-out suit stood in front of the gaming shop with a few banknotes in his hand.

"gentlemen."

  A male voice with a hint of childishness came from behind.

  The man in the suit turned his head and saw a ragged boy about 1.6 meters tall and no older than 16 years old.

   "Where is the dog boy?"

  Gouzi is a slanderous name for street children. They live in garbage dumps like wild dogs, begging in trash cans everywhere, so they are called Gouzi. Of course, there is another implication, children are dogs, and the parents who abandon them are even more dogs.

  Long Shaoming didn't have much reaction to this address. He was used to being called early in the morning since he was a child.

   "Sir, do you want to bet on a World Fighting Championship player?"

"What's none of your business?" The man still didn't have a good face, Long Shaoming said neither humble nor overbearing: "My name is Long Shaoming, sir can buy me, just give me 100 sou to buy a piece of bread to fill my stomach, and I will reward you Ten thousand times."

   "What's your name is none of my business, get out of here."

  The man in the suit had a trace of impatience in his tone, and then he reacted and asked, "Wait, you want to appear?"

  The man is considered an experienced gambler. For him, the most attractive thing about gambling is the high odds. Many people will pay special attention to the highest odds if they don’t buy eggs.

   Among them, the odds of the elderly are as high as 5,000 times, followed by the underage teenagers at 3,000 times. If the kid in front of him is going to appear on the stage, the odds are at least 2000 times.

  Long Shaoming nodded slightly, and stretched out his right hand: "Sir, do you want to take a gamble, even if you only buy 1,000 yuan, there are 2 million (about 210,000 Chinese currency)."

   "You really want to go on stage, but once you go up, you won't be able to get off." The man in the suit froze for a moment, he didn't expect that the other party would really go on stage.

  Although the World Fighting Championship is called a competition, it is actually a **** deathmatch. Only one of more than 100 people can go up and down. Many so-called veteran professional boxers will not necessarily survive, let alone a child.

   "I will win." Long Shaoming and Zhang Xixi's face was full of inexplicable confidence, which was not directly proportional to his perennial malnourished body.

   "I only need to eat a full meal, and you can get 2 million, which is a very affordable deal."

The man in the suit took out a piece of 100 yuan from his wallet and handed it to Long Shaoming, and said with a sullen expression: "Take it and buy a piece of bread to eat, don't even think about going on stage. It's hard to live such a big life, there is no need to die at this time .”

   "Since we promised, we can't break our promise." Long Shaoming put away the 100 yuan, turned around and left.

   "Sir, remember to buy me, my name is Long Shaoming."

   It wasn't until the background of the young man disappeared that the man in the suit came back to his senses, walked into the betting shop, and started betting on today's players.

  A total of 128 people, only one of them has an odds of 3000 times.

  The contestant is called Long Shaoming, and the photo is exactly the same as the dog boy he just met.

   "Damn it. No way??"

  The man in the suit had dull eyes. He thought he was here to cheat for food and drink, but he didn't expect that the other party would actually go on stage.

   "What are you dawdling about? The game is about to start."

  The dissatisfied customer behind him urged him, and the boss also began to urge him: "If you haven't thought it through, go and sit next to you first."

  "Buy" The man in the suit slapped the 10,000 yuan bill on the table. Originally, his finger was referring to a heavyweight boxing champion, but for some reason, he pointed at the boy with the highest odds.

   "3000 times the odds, you are really a gambling dog."

  On the other side, Long Shaoming walked out of the bakery, holding a piece of bread in his hand, and the dirty children around him immediately rushed up to surround him.

   "Don't worry, everyone has a share, don't worry."

   But what they wanted was not bread, and the children hugged his thigh tightly without saying a word.

  Long Shaoming didn't understand, so he said: "What's wrong with everyone? Were you bullied by others? Duo'er, what happened?"

  Seeing that no one answered, he set his sights on the most obedient little girl.

  The little girl named Duo'er replied obediently: "We don't want the boss to die. If the boss can't beat those grown-ups, you will die."

   After saying this, the others couldn't help but burst into tears. Almost at the same time, everyone started to cry.

  Long Shaoming is their boss and their father. Take them to pick up trash, take them to beg, take them to find a place where they can spend the winter, and take them to survive in this icy steel forest.

  Although he is only a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, he has supported the lives of these children.

   "Woooooh, don't die, Boss, what will we do if you die!"

   "Boss, don't go."

Long Shaoming didn't agree or refuse, just smiled when facing these children, touched their heads and said, "Believe me, I will definitely let you go to school, let you live in a warm house, and let you have a good meal." .”

   Distributed the bread, and he kept a piece the size of half a fist for himself.

   Swallowing a mouthful of bread, he turned and walked towards the gigantic metal arena, showing that his identity was brought into the side door without any check. The cries of the children behind him gradually disappeared, and the sunlight disappeared as the iron gate was closed heavily.

  Only his eyes always exude golden light, always carrying high-spirited self-confidence.

  Long Shaoming knew that this was his chance to change his life, the only one chance. The previous stars may also be an opportunity, even a child like him who grew up in the garbage dump understands that selling the stars can lead a good life for a lifetime.

   Or eat it, you may gain power beyond ordinary people.

   But he neither sells nor eats.

  The reason for not selling it is because he is afraid that he will not enjoy that life. Everyone is innocent, and he may not have heard of the crime of pregnant Bi, but he also understands this truth. In the slums on weekdays, having 1,000 yuan on your body may be life-threatening, let alone a star.

   For a long time, he walked on thin ice, for fear that the existence of the stars would be discovered.

  I don’t eat because I can’t bite.

  As someone who grew up eating rubbish, although Long Shaoming gave himself such a name from some film and television works from China, he does not have the kind of arrogance of "completely relying on himself". They all pick up **** for a living, where is the arrogance coming from, it's just for survival.

  If it would be better to eat stars, he would eat them without hesitation.

  In the preparation room, hundreds of people gather here, and the scene here is even more chaotic.

  They knew that they were going to fight each other later, and they had no feelings at all. They cast hostile glances at each other, wishing they could reduce their competition targets now. At the same time, most of the target people who participated in this competition were desperadoes who had nowhere to go or who planned to give it a try, so fierceness was inevitable.

  As soon as Long Shaoming walked in, dozens of eyes cast their eyes on him, but no one made a move.

  Because there were two monks standing at the door, staring at everyone with cold eyes, deterring everyone with absolute force.

  The costumes they wear are similar to the ancient Chinese costumes. In the Black Soil State, they are the representatives of identity. They are like nobles, and they are not guilty of murder. Of course, this time the sect responsible for maintaining order leaned towards the righteous way, and still looked down on mortals in their bones, but they would not care too much about them.

  Long Shaoming swaggered towards the right wall, where countless cold weapons were piled up, reflecting light slightly under the light, and each weapon had been sharpened. And they are all made of special steel, which can be called a magic weapon in ancient times.

  After making some choices, Long Shaoming chose a long spear.

  The gun is the most powerful cold weapon with the lowest practice cost. As a child who grew up in a garbage dump, he naturally never practiced the so-called cold weapons, but he also understood that sticks are better than knives.

"no…"

   After thinking about it, he put the spear back and replaced it with a half-arm-length bayonet.

  The long gun is easy to use, but he doesn't have the strength to use it, and this is not a one-on-one duel. He watched the game of Hundreds of Chaos for a week, and he understood that this game is not about who kills more, but who lives longer, or who gets supernatural power first.

  Currently, he can't figure out how to obtain supernatural power. So far, there are different opinions on the Internet, but no one has been able to guess correctly.

   "The player enters the arena."

  The voice without much emotion reached everyone's ears, and everyone's hearts tightened, including Long Shaoming's, and their bodies couldn't help tensing up. After walking a hundred and eighty steps along the long aisle, the vision suddenly opened up.

  In the extremely open arena, hundreds of thousands of spectators on both sides are watching them, and drones are flying in the sky, capturing the expressions and movements of each of them clearly.

  Standing on the stage, Long Shaoming felt an unprecedented feeling, a feeling of being watched, a feeling of great attention.

"Game start."

   There was no possibility of backing down after the barrier fell, the audience was completely boiling, shouting and killing like a mountain overwhelming.

  Long Shaoming looked at the people around him vigilantly, relying on his thin body to lower his sense of presence, he took two steps back slightly. When the first fell, he sprinted, circling the edge of the field.

   There was more than one person who held this idea like him, and a dozen people ran around in a circle, but they collided into each other instead.

  Long Shaoming was slashed from the back, the wound stretched from the shoulder to the waist, and the intestines were directly hanging outside. He couldn't help crying out, and then rolled on the ground to avoid the attacks of others.

  All the strategies in his mind, all the countermeasures he had prepared, were useless in the face of this crazy killing.

  There is a huge gap between talking about war on paper and actual combat, just like the current melee. Rather than running away, you should keep a distance from other people, and try to attack other people or protect yourself.

  Never expose your back, let alone run blindly to waste energy. It's even worse to play dead, because everyone will make up the knife.

   It doesn't take much time to get up on the corpse.

  Long Shaoming rolled over a dozen times, struggling to get up from the ground, but was kicked to the ground in the next second, and then slashed on the back of his neck with a knife.

  The Huan Shou Dao was slowly raised in his sight, blood dripped down his eye sockets, and everything turned blood red.

  Die!

   Perhaps it was the potential that exploded between life and death, Long Shaoming raised his strength again and tried his best to avoid it. With a bang, the blade hit the solid concrete ground.

  Long Shaoming stabbed out the sharp knife in his hand, exerted all his strength, and pierced the enemy's heart without any suspense.

  An adult plopped on top of him, and he no longer had the strength to push away. The blood flowed out slowly, the body temperature was passing away, and he felt the skinny feeling of reality from the bottom of his heart.

  Long Shaoming is too thin and weak, anyone can knock him to the ground, so the so-called courage and tricks are useless at all.

  He grew up picking up trash, so how intelligent he can be.

"hehe…"

   Heart is higher than sky, life is thinner than paper.

  Long Shaoming understands this. There is nothing special about him. He cannot win on his own. Fortunately, he has stars.

  He reached into the inner pocket of his clothes tremblingly, rubbed the pure white fruit lightly, and a warm current flowed through his body.

  God of the stars, please give me the strength to overcome obstacles. Let me tear apart this filthy and hypocritical world, and crush that vermilion city.

   Beneath the mask of golden powder makeup is a face covered with abscesses.

   Give the kids a bite to eat.

  If the child's **** is the heating pipe, his **** is the **** who gave the stars.

  The stars allow him, a mouse in the gutter, to boast of being extraordinary, allowing him to live with his head held high.

  In the VIP seat, Zhao Si lowered his head and swiped his phone. He didn't like this kind of **** and violent wrestling.

   Immediately afterwards, he suddenly raised his head and looked towards the ring. He felt a familiar breath.

   Yunguo! Why is there the breath of Yunguo.

  Lu Haochu noticed his abnormality and asked, "What's wrong?"

   "There is a strange smell."

   Hum!

  Invisible fluctuations spread, the breeze stopped suddenly, and the deafening shouts gradually became smaller, but the roar of the audience outside still did not stop. The air seems to disappear, and the sound no longer travels.

  All the cultivators froze in place, and the face of Da Neng, who lived high in the sky, changed slightly. They felt the sharp edge spreading from the void, enveloping their bodies.

  A faint murderous aura permeated the air.

  The sky began to drizzle, as if to cool down the warm atmosphere here.

  A blurry figure came out of the void, holding a bamboo umbrella, wearing a gray-white Taoist robe, with no sadness or joy in his downcast eyes.

  Long Shaoming's blood-stained face was stunned, and then the tears couldn't stop flowing from his eyes, his lips trembled, and he said in a small voice with all his strength:

   "I pray to you..."

  (end of this chapter)