TYMIMA Chapter 139

“Oliver, you…” Dream Witch was still holding on when she suddenly felt powerful energy beside her. She quickly turned to see Oliver, protected by vines, walking to her side as golden threads flowed gently as water toward the enemy.

“Seeking death!” The middle white robe sneered, his wrist moving to accelerate his playing. Sonic attacks shot straight at the golden radiance!

But when his attacks met Oliver’s ability, they were directly neutralized, while the golden threads unhurriedly passed through the notes, their speed unchanged.

Only a few stray notes reached Oliver, blocked by vines that shattered into blood droplets.

The middle white robe stared in stunned confusion.

By normal logic, when two abilities met, the lower-tier one would be judged as failed.

Could it be…

“Let me!” The right white robe leaped forward, raising his scissors and frantically cutting at the golden threads. His movements were so violent that his facial expression became extremely fierce.

But when the snipping ended, the golden threads were completely undamaged, as if they existed on a different plane from the scissors.

“What’s happening?” The right white robe froze, unable to believe his attacks couldn’t stop someone else’s ability.

He was clearly S-level—the highest rank humans could awaken to.

The middle white robe’s pupils contracted sharply as realization hit. “No good—he’s that escaped prisoner!”

Even among S-levels, there were differences. And an S-level genius, even after eighteen wasted years, still hung high in the clouds, untouchable.

As someone from the restricted zone, he naturally knew of Oliver’s existence. Actually, the elders regretted letting this S-level become Si Hongche’s forbidden pet, but Oliver’s identity made it impossible for them to trust him.

For most people, second-tier abilities were their life’s bottleneck, yet this man imprisoned for eighteen years had rarely achieved fourth-tier abilities.

Even the reasons he’d gained third and fourth-tier abilities were absurd—one to indulge in illusions and escape reality, the other to seek death but fail to achieve it.

For such pathetic reasons, heaven had granted him realms others couldn’t reach through lifelong effort.

“Dodge quickly!” The middle white robe shouted while retreating.

The right white robe dodged simultaneously, creating distance between himself and the golden threads.

Only the left white robe couldn’t escape in time—controlled by Dream Witch, he was immobilized and could only watch helplessly as the golden threads entered his body.

In that instant, the golden threads seemed to bind his heart and quickly tighten.

“What is this?” The left white robe looked down at his empty chest.

He wasn’t injured and felt no pain—that moment seemed like mere illusion.

After the other two white robes dodged, they discovered the golden threads hadn’t stopped. They wove into a glittering golden net, heading straight for their hearts.

“How is it impossible to dodge?” The right white robe broke out in goosebumps, his composure shattered. While futilely cutting at the golden threads with his scissors, he shouted across the distance, “Lord Benbu! Please grant me a miracle!”

The middle white robe gritted his teeth. “Lord Benbu went to kill those three—don’t get distracted!”

Though he said not to get distracted, his dodging was clearly becoming labored. Seeing trouble, he simply grabbed a guard to shield himself, trying to make the guard take the hit.

“No no no… Lord Messenger! Please spare me! Ah!”

With an agonized scream, the golden thread pierced the guard’s chest.

But the guard wasn’t its prey—it passed straight through him and stabbed into the white robe who couldn’t dodge in time.

The white robe’s face changed drastically as he watched the golden thread disappear into his chest.

“Damn it! I’ll kill you!” The right white robe’s eyes turned blood red, his face savage. His arms’ flesh bloomed like petals, rapidly wrapping around the two scissors. On the black iron of the scissors, you could even see blood vessels pulsing.

The scissor blades gradually took on a bloody glow, emanating an eerie red light throughout.

He exerted force with both arms, the scissors closing heavily. Above the prison, the fifty-meter frozen soil layer suddenly cracked, massive boulders tumbling down toward Oliver.

Dust flew in the central well, rocks rolled, stairs collapsed, railings twisted—the entire icefield seemed to tremble.

“Little blondie!” Dream Witch’s breath caught. She wanted to give Oliver the transparent barrier, but it wasn’t her ability—she couldn’t control it.

But Oliver paid no attention to the falling boulders. His gaze was unprecedentedly determined, his eyes radiating long-lost brilliance. For a moment, that spirited, limitlessly glorious youth was frozen on him again.

Vines rapidly extended and swayed, smashing the boulders to fragments. Blood droplets fell like fine rain, but Oliver seemed oblivious. He slowly closed his palm, pointing two fingers at the raging white robe. Olive-scented pheromones surged forth, golden radiance exploding several times brighter, so dazzling no one could open their eyes. The golden threads followed his direction, piercing the last messenger with lightning speed!

The right white robe’s body trembled, his heart tightly constricted. Realizing the danger, he shouted, “Old madman! Move us away quickly!”

But it was too late. Oliver gripped the golden threads in his hand like gathering a deadly golden net. His eyes closed as he hurled one end of the threads into a guard’s body.

“No, protect that guard quickly—” The middle white robe’s face went ashen as he screamed, leaping over the railing toward the guard. His speed was extreme, no less than sound itself, reaching midair in a blink.

Splurt!

The guard opened his mouth, spread his hands, and looked down in confusion.

The golden thread had just entered his body when vines followed immediately. Before he could complete a breath, the vines precisely pierced his heart.

“Ah! Ah!” Blood spread across the guard’s chest. He panicked helplessly, lips trembling wildly, but his eyes inevitably dimmed.

At that moment, all three white robes’ chests simultaneously burst with blood. The middle white robe fell from midair, crashing hard to the ground as his violin flew from his hands.

“No good, the messenger is injured!”

“Quick! Where’s the recovery Awakened? Come treat the messenger!”

The messenger on the ground used his last strength to raise a finger, pointing at the guard and struggling to say, “He… he…”

His voice seemed filled with molten iron, becoming heavy and hoarse before finally solidifying completely.

The right white robe looked at Oliver with complex, venomous eyes. The scissors fell from his body, severing along with blood vessels and nerves.

He could no longer support his body weight. His knees went soft as he knelt straight down, his white front completely stained red with blood.

The left white robe couldn’t even manage last words. His chest bore a hole identical to the guard’s, blood dripping from his robe hem, flowing along the slanted stone slabs to draw a winding blood line on the ground.

Fourth-tier abilities couldn’t be stopped or defied. [Conjugation] completed its host’s mission as golden radiance turned to crystalline snowflakes, scattering down.

Oliver lowered his hand, standing in the vortex’s center like a quiet, resilient lighthouse.

Blood loss made his lips somewhat pale, but it didn’t diminish the intimidation and shock of his strike. He could turn lives as strong as S-level into fragile mayflies in an instant.

“It’s that S-level plant Awakened from the restricted zone! He really came!”

“All three messengers are dead, requesting orders!”

“Everyone don’t approach rashly—the opponent has fourth-tier abilities!”

“Shit, rare lead ore—switch to rare lead ore weapons quickly!”

…

The radios were in chaos. Benbu’s cheek muscles twitched as blood rushed to his head.

The messengers he’d brought were all faithful servants of the gods, elite members of the sect, yet they’d died one after another in the AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison.

Oliver…

He’d known all along this person couldn’t be kept, shouldn’t be kept!

He really wanted to ask the elders—was it truly worth burying such a huge threat for the sake of one Si Hongche?

Benbu was furious beyond measure. He switched channels and said through gritted teeth to Si Hongche, “Director Si, haven’t you seen enough? Are you waiting for me to deal with these three traitors before personally seeing off your escaped prisoner?”

But Si Hongche seemed not to hear Benbu’s words. He tossed the radio aside, opened his palm, and gently reached toward the falling snowflakes. Unfortunately, the snowflakes disappeared before reaching his palm.

But he still felt that cold and piercing light.

He remembered Oliver hated killing. He’d never been able to change him—even in the bloody Blue Pivot Second District, Oliver remained unstained.

But today, Oliver had instantly killed four people, clean and efficient, without mercy.

What power had changed him?

Si Hongche felt immense loss and helplessness—this uncontrollable pain even exceeded the day Oliver disappeared.

Because he truly felt that Oliver was now very far from him.

“Are you okay, little blondie?” Dream Witch quickly supported the swaying Oliver, brushing dust from his shoulders.

Oliver shook his head gently, saying softly, “Lan Qi, I’m a bit… craving sugar.”

He was anemic, weak, and urgently needed energy for the coming battle.

Dream Witch supported him and immediately shouted behind her, “Fata, bring some super supplement pill-flavored candy!”

“Don’t…” Oliver couldn’t stop him in time. Fata quickly synthesized two chocolate-ball-like sugar spheres and ran over. “Candy-flavored super supplement pills, right? I coated them with maltose—should be very sweet.”

Oliver wanted to cry. He didn’t know what difference there was between super supplement pill-flavored candy and candy-flavored super supplement pills. If possible, he didn’t want either.

Fata looked at him with expectant eyes. Oliver had no choice but to swallow it under that earnest, sincere gaze.

His throat tightened, and that pitiful amount of blood in his body actually turned his face red from the effort.

Ugh.

It was indeed even worse.

Fata: “Much better tasting, right?”

Oliver was far more clever and rational than Mad Clown. He’d long given up hope for Fata’s culinary skills. Hearing this, he could only smile through tears: “Yes.”

Fata finally recovered from the shock of his teammates’ severe injuries, his spirits lifting: “Very good, I’ll make a few more later and save them for Lucas to eat. After a month apart, he’ll finally see my progress!”

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)