Chapter 43: Restless Jima
Jima is grateful for the personal system’s external features. Although it cannot allocate points or directly give rewards, it helps her enhance her strength. It is a well-known truth that many people, upon gaining extraordinary powers, easily become complacent.
With a powerful weapon in hand, the desire to kill inevitably arises. After finally obtaining a sharp blade, one naturally wants to test it and see how sharp it is, how thick of a body it can cut through.
As a result, many people die without realizing how weak they truly are, provoking those they shouldn’t, and being unfamiliar with their own capabilities.
The personal system even displays debuffs, essentially embodying a slow poison.
“Blood God Chosen: The Blood God favors you; you can ignite fury and enter a combat state, gaining enhancements to your strength and physical durability. Whenever you kill or destroy an enemy, your melee capability temporarily becomes stronger. By personally killing an opponent of equal standing, you will also grow stronger.”
“At the same time, as the Blood God Chosen, you can unleash killing intent and command the Blood God Demon Army.”
Jima assessed it and found it largely useless; in close combat, she preferred to let others handle it. The most practical aspect is her identity as a commander of the Blood God Demon Army.
“Color Sin Chosen: The more intense your emotions, the faster and more agile you become. At the same time, the toxins within you can influence others, enhancing your allure.”
“You can now lead the Color Sin Demon Army.”
Jima glanced past it, lacking even the desire to try. She looked at the abilities of various options, including an additional “magical screen,” which is a passive barrier that lasts for a short time and can self-repair unless destroyed.
Jima was only concerned about whether she could use the related skills of the demon armies associated with her three chosen identities.
As she contemplated, the insatiable desire lingering in her soul gradually calmed down.
With the Color Sin Gift temporarily subdued, Jima closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
But she did not find rest.
During the day, she was busy with tasks. At night, Jima flitted like a dragonfly over water in her dreams, heading towards those exquisite realms, leaving one dream seed after another as beacons in the dreamscape.
She also had to run into George’s dreams to report and exchange intelligence.
George told Jima that they had braved treacherous paths, encountering several careless battle gangs, and had already connected with the imperial army, engaging the emperor to support the front lines.
“That’s great.” Jima said, “I’ve been so tired during this time. Once the Dream Palace is ready, we can all have a good rest.”
She couldn’t wait, as reality pressed down on her like a steel pin, gradually hammering fatigue into her body. Every part of her craved release from exhaustion and the chance to unwind.
New tasks and problems arose every day, demanding Jima’s resolution. She often thought of just throwing it all away and quitting. But the thought of needing to defeat the Everlasting Chosen and becoming stronger forced her to drive her weary body and muster the spirit to handle things.
Each day, during her rare moments of respite, she would retreat into George’s dreams.
But George was busy too; after chatting for a day, he said he didn’t have time to sleep.
Jima had to shift and leave George’s dream.
Once back in Pioneer City, there was a heap of matters waiting for her.
Without a word, Jima pushed everything aside and declared, “As the Color Sin Chosen, I haven’t enjoyed myself today.”
After saying this, she went to “Selayah’s Tear.” This healing spring had now become Jima’s private hot spring, where she had set up strict warnings, signaling that no one was allowed to disturb her—anyone who dared would face dire consequences.
The cool water washed over her smooth skin as Jima languidly rested her long legs on the white, jade-like edge of the pool.
Nearby, Lianxi Cat swam through the water beneath her legs.
Jima murmured to herself, “If only the water were warm.”
She recalled how, as the commander of Pioneer City, she had spent days boiling within this spring, nearly cooking herself to death.
Her fleeting good mood evaporated in an instant.
She thought of the commander whose skin had turned pale from being boiled under her them.
“Really, I should have let her live longer and tortured her slowly.”
Taking a deep breath, she struggled to think of something pleasant, but just as she managed to, thoughts of boiling water resurfaced in her mind.
Suddenly, an urgent voice broke through outside.
“Great King, those Color Sin soldiers are about to rebel!”
The voice shattered the rare tranquility of the surrounding area like a cat in a porcelain shop.
Jima took a deep breath and stood up from the spring.
The water clung to her curvaceous body and dripped onto the ground, her black hair sticking to her back, covering half her buttocks.
When she stepped out of the spring, another voice called out, “Please forgive my sins; the situation is extremely urgent!”
Jima’s hair exploded outwards from her back, water vapor spreading like a halo.
She didn’t want to shout, just patted Lianxi, who had become wet from the abrupt change.
“Tell him not to shout a third time.”
“Okay.” Lianxi yelled outside, “My master says! Don’t shout a third time!”
“King—”
The third loud voice was abruptly interrupted.
“How annoying.”
Jima lifted her hand, and the black cloak hanging on a rack fluttered in like a crow and landed on her graceful form.
Lianxi gazed at this beautiful sight without blinking until, a few moments later, Jima slipped on the black cloak, transforming into an elegant presence framed by the black feathers of her shawl, accentuating her snow-white skin.
Beneath the floating, pitch-black crown was a face that seemed to yearn to devour everyone around her.
The blood-colored demon spear lay on the ground like a branch turned into a weapon. She lightly kicked the door open, only to see a powdery, fang-toothed demon advisor standing on a floating disk, dragging a staff.
“King, no matter how dire the situation is, simply seeing you brings peace to my heart.”
Jima fought the urge to kick it off the floating disk; after all, she still needed it to study a more advanced command system.
“Lead the way.”
“Of course.”
Jima jumped onto the floating disk and flipped through “Consciousness of Conspiracy.” To her shock, the number of schemes targeting her had jumped from 83 to 86 in the time she took a bath.
She noted that one of the plots involved the main military camp of the shape-shifting faction, and even the demon advisor had a part in it.
They truly were the masters of deception.
Jima pondered for a moment and asked sternly, “Are you the ones instigating their rebellion?”
“King, I—” Its ugly face looked at Jima.
This chosen representative of the three gods was already itching to get started, wielding a blood-colored axe-spear.
“They were already discontent.”
The demon advisor said, “I tried to handle it, but I couldn’t suppress them, so I thought I might as well let more people come out and see what I did. All I did was raise my voice and do the right thing.”
Jima refrained from chopping it up right away—one, it was still useful, and two, she hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet.
Coldly, she said, “I’ll spare your life for now.”
She recalled what Yifrost Leaf had said to her.
The shape-shifting faction is weak and will look for opportunities to weaken the Color Sin faction.
Indeed, just as Yifrost Leaf had warned.
Riding the floating disk, Jima didn’t ask the several Doomsday Knight guards any questions. Alone, without speaking, she personally executed a few leading Color Sin heads with gunfire.
Then, using her divination skills, she slowly investigated further.
Gradually, she uncovered the essence of the matter, and upon learning the full details, her frustration deepened.
The Color Sin faction was dissatisfied for a long time.
Jima abandoned the priority of establishing the Blood God Army Camp and instead established the first Color Sin structure—the Eternal Opera House.
Originally, she had brought back Sirens from the demon realm who had not stopped singing, even after their vocal cords had crumbled.
However, upon arriving at Pioneer City, perhaps due to the poor environment, they lost their voices.
They lost their voices in plain sight.
One must understand that the opera house was packed with Color Sin people, so tightly that they could hardly breathe.
Initially, although the audience was dissatisfied, they managed to appease them, saying that they would repair the sirens’ vocal cords.
Seizing such a rare opportunity, the shape-shifting faction couldn’t resist dipping their toes in, nodding slightly, causing the sirens’ vocal cords to remain unrepaired for a long time.
Thus, the Color Sin audience rebelled, boiling over.
They felt they had followed the wrong people and found themselves in this barren Pioneer City; no matter how beautiful, they could not pull off “human art” (which Jima found disgusting and banned).
After understanding the true nature of the situation, Jima felt furious enough to consider “blood sacrificing the Blood God, offering a skull to the demons.”
Clearly, she had prioritized meeting the desires of the Color Sin people but delayed military constructions.
She realized she had made a grave mistake.
She should have built the Blood God Army Camp first, recruiting those brave warriors from the divine demon clan, giving herself the means to suppress the Color Sin people.
Looking at the crowd of Color Sin individuals, Jima felt more and more disgusted and irritated, as if she had found herself in a seafood market, surrounded not just by claws but also by tentacles.
With a cold face, Jima declared, “How about this? I’ll sing for you all myself.”
Seconds later, a wave of applause surged like the ocean, drowning out Jima.
Two Color Sin women, each with claws, clapped their hands together, their palms turning red from the effort.
In the White Eye Magic Fortress, superiors often interacted with subordinates, including but not limited to beatings and clapping together; both joy and pain could be expressed.
In contrast, Jima had no such intention, appearing stiff and dull.
Many Color Sin people wanted to savor her low notes.
Since everyone welcomed it, Jima rode the floating disk, gliding through the spacious opera house: “Since everyone is so welcoming, let’s get everyone together and call more people in.”
Not far away, the surviving Color Sin raiders from the first battle began to retreat, hearing Jima’s song across the battlefield.
Jima’s face turned severe, and she pointed, “Bring them back to me.”
Before long, several large men were dragged back, shouting, “No! Don’t do this!”
The claws left long scratches on the ground.
More Color Sin individuals squeezed into the opera house, filling it to the brim, like sardines in a can, thousands of them crushed beneath the stage.
“Considering that it might get too crowded.”
Jima said coldly, “Nail the door shut for me completely.”
“Clever.” The powdery-toothed demon advisor said, “Let’s bring the supreme demon to punish these rebels.”
“No.” Jima said, “I genuinely plan to sing. By the way, you stay, and you all stay too. If there’s no space left, sit on the floating disk with me to listen.”
The powdery-toothed demon advisor found the situation perplexing but still complied, soon bringing a group of Color Sin officers to fill the floating disk with the sweet aroma of the opera house.
The doors were already nailed shut and blocked with stones; there was no way to use a battering ram to escape.
Jima tricked everyone, saying this would allow the singing to resonate without a single note escaping.
The Color Sin people didn’t react much; they had experienced even more absurd pleasures before.
Looking at the sardine-like crowd below, Jima cleared her throat and, under the expectant gazes of everyone, took a deep breath, preparing to launch into a soprano to vent her frustrations from days of work.
It’s worth noting that while George couldn’t tolerate Jima’s greed, he could not stand her singing voice.
