Chapter 264 Chapter 258 Fully Armed
“Jima.” George reached out and grabbed Jima’s restless tail, pressing it onto the bed: “Teasing me won’t work. Why don’t you consider the matter of dignity?”
“I don’t expect it to work.”
“But you will definitely feel disgusted inside because you know there’s an ordinary, lustful soul inside this skin.”
Jima smiled slightly: “When did you advance to the rank of a transcendent master?”
“Before coming to Earth.”
“Truly the chosen one, did you break through out of anger?”
“No, your maze technique misled me. I completed the advancement in Litith’s world.”
“What’s the name of your organization?”
“Spark Organization.” George said: “Are we done with the small talk? We have plenty of time to answer your questions.”
“After so many years, you’re still so arrogant.”
“Are you not considering taking the path of goodness?” George raised his chin slightly: “I would defend you.”
“Because a subjugated demon king is far more useful to Earthlings than a corpse, right?” Jima struggled to suppress her inferiority and sadness before this man, “And then you sweep in and take my demon king crown fragments, go back to save the world, and chop off the head of eternal divine selection. Leaving Earth with a diligent servant. Good gracious, even if Earthlings go to Mars, they will remember you and erect a monument for you on the moon.”
“I don’t want to see you die.”
“Thank you for your concern.” Jima said: “Just chop me up already.”
“Little Jima.” George looked at Little Jima and said: “She is the humanity you discarded, and she is a succubus, yet she has overcome her nature to be good.”
“Jima…” Little Jima clasped her hands together and timidly said to Jima: “You are powerful, but you are still so tortured inside. It’s truly pitiful…”
Jima glanced at George; his gaze towards Little Jima resembled that of a father watching his daughter. Jima dared not be fierce with Little Jima and instead rolled her eyes at her.
…
…
When the news of Jima’s failure spread across the global network, it was no less shocking than a meteor falling into a pond.
Many people’s emotions fluctuated greatly; moments ago, they were terrified of being affected by the demon king, fearing for their lives. In just ten minutes, she was pressed down onto the bed.
That demon king who feared nothing, who forced America to acknowledge her superiority, who unrestrainedly scorned hypocrisy, just fell like that.
Many couldn’t help but laugh out loud in front of their computer screens.
Meng He was already a mother of two.
Yet, after so many years, she still had the habit of checking Zhihu to observe demon king Jima.
This morning, as usual, she logged onto Zhihu.
One question was: “What do you think of people who go mountain climbing and hire others to carry their pet dogs?”
The most upvoted answer was:
“The porters are happy; it’s much easier than carrying people, and the users are also happy. It’s just the keyboard warriors on the internet who are unhappy.”
Meng He liked the post.
“My father said not to place the rice cooker on the ground, saying the food would get dirty… but it doesn’t get dirty, those people have feudal views of respect and inferiority… in the end, how others spend their money is none of their business.”
Meng He liked the post.
“What do you think of a content creator feeding their cat steak?”
Most upvoted answer:
“…It’s their own money; spending it is their freedom. The keyboard warriors just love…”
Meng He liked the post.
“How to make self-serving individuals contribute to society?”
Most upvoted answer one:
“Ancient people said, ‘a penny saved benefits the world’… according to expert experiments, everyone is selfish. In pluralistic games, the best outcome will occur. Heh, instead, people like the original poster deceive others into contributing with grand narratives. Why is my donkey not turning the mill anymore? Even beating it won’t work, scolding it won’t work. Then they come to Zhihu to ask us? Their heart is unforgivable.”
Meng He liked the post.
Most upvoted answer two:
“Perhaps they don’t want to be fuel.”
Meng He liked the post.
“What do you think of the selected artisans from Huaxia?”
Below was a torrent of criticism, denouncing this kind of sob story and sacrificial marketing technique.
Suddenly.
A question soared to the top of the trending list.
“What do you think of demon king Jima being captured? The era of the demon king ends after fifteen years.”
The responses below were in jubilation.
Meng He clicked in, and after understanding the situation, joined in the celebration. She smiled and woke her husband, deciding not to go to work today.
Under this question, some had already started to denounce demon king Jima’s crimes.
“Demon king Jima extorts and plunders, using money to disrupt the gaming market and the film market, lowering the standards…”
A few images of luxurious palaces and delicacies.
“She even feeds her cat steak, the cost of one meal could feed fifteen hundred poor people in the mountains.”
The comment section was ablaze: “Too despicable!”
“She should atone a thousand times! At least ten thousand years!”
“After ten thousand years, there must be a review to see if her attitude is good and if she did well; if not, another hundred thousand years in prison. Didn’t she say she was immortal? Then let her be imprisoned forever, making us humans work forever.”
The likes for this response climbed swiftly.
Meng He thought it was quite reasonable and liked it.
Another response popped up, sharing many screenshots of Jima’s outrageous remarks, saying:
“I’ve been waiting for this day; I’ve always believed that evil cannot triumph over justice! The news now suggests the possibility of demon king Jima facing the death penalty! She truly deserves it; let’s enumerate her transgressions….
“…Deliberately destroying the Earth’s environment, she spends one hundred million dollars a month on beef to make pet food, and any unsold gets burned—look at those piles of beef balls in the video. Each cow produces a lot of greenhouse gases in its lifetime…”
Meng He read it, furious, and said: “That’s so despicable!”
She forcefully clicked like.
Some responses were already brainstorming, imagining what Jima could do.
“We know she can produce youth serum. As she stated, she can produce one in the blink of an eye…. Plugging in the formula… Considering she’s a demon king, giving her five hours of sleep daily, nineteen hours could produce… Calculating this way, in a few years, she could solve our country’s aging problem. As for the salary, well, let’s not consider that for her atonement, and since the succubus doesn’t need to excrete, it’s even more convenient; we just have to prepare her prison uniform. As for her meals, as long as there’s a live stream, it can be solved.”
The comment section was already overflowing: “Hehe, I can, I can feed her well.”
“We should let her entire witch squad and maid squad work together.”
“Right, those traitors to humanity are the most despicable.”
After happily reading through everything, Meng He liked all the comments; the entire internet was filled with a festive spirit. She received a text message from her company saying everyone could take a day off today.
Outside, there was a series of firecracker sounds.
Not only Zhihu, but the entire internet was overflowing with a festive atmosphere.
Everyone was eagerly discussing whether a death sentence or a labor education of a billion years would be better.
Meanwhile, in America, the higher-ups were originally in chaos, but when they saw the image of Jima being apprehended, the interest groups originally related to Jima immediately fell silent, with some even defecting at the first opportunity.
Bombers roared skyward, targeting cities and other densely populated areas, dropping sanctified water bombs blessed in advance.
The shells roared into the clouds, detonating a large quantity of sanctified shells prepared in advance, causing rain to fall.
“I’m waiting for America to airdrop vaccine water.” George said: “What are you waiting for, Jima?”
“Do you think that in such a short time, so many people in America can lift the curses?”
“But this time has been enough for your comrades beside the palace to sever your connections using good laws.” George said: “You’ve lost; I can understand you, but you still can’t accept the truth.”
Jima raised her red-nailed finger and pointed to her throat, saying: “Kill me.”
“You would rather die than accept redemption?”
“To hell with your redemption, to hell with your goodness.” Jima’s tone was calm: “If I’ve lost, it’s because I wasn’t evil enough.”
“You are truly hopeless.”
Jima suddenly moved, her tail shooting out from under the bed, a handgun appearing in her hand, aimed swiftly at George—
George was even faster, wielding the holy sword, hitting Jima’s wrist with a weighted ball.
“Jima!”
A handgun suddenly appeared in Jima’s hand, pointing directly at Little Jima.
George had no choice but to point his sword at Jima, slicing the handgun in half. The gun, composed of lies, immediately vanished.
However, Jima’s speed suddenly increased, using nearly all her stored pain energy; her speed reached extreme levels, fast enough that only a high-speed camera could capture it.
Yet in George’s eyes, this speed was manageable; he did not want to let Jima lose her dignity, and he was confident he could control the situation.
However, Jima did not attack, flee, or cast spells; instead, she resolutely slammed her neck against the edge of the holy sword.
George was taken aback; he hadn’t anticipated that Jima would rather die. He quickly shifted the sword’s edge, using one hand to pull the holy sword back, while the other pushed against Jima’s chest.
“Boom.”
Jima’s back slammed against the palace wall, the force just right to stop her without harming her.
But it was too late.
Jima’s back of the head smashed against the palace wall; she felt nothing, except for her neck burning intensely, smoke rising from it as dark red blood gushed out, splattering onto the ground.
George’s voice reached her ears: “No!”
Jima knelt on both knees, her hands clutching her neck, her blurry vision seeing George rushing toward her. She activated her power…
George reached out, pulling her fingers from the wound in her neck; she had been holding a sharp metal blade, intending to commit suicide.
Jima was already lying on the ground, her golden eyes wide open and slowly dimming, looking at his palm glowing with white light, trying to speak but unable to.
“Hold on, I’m here to save you!”
George’s healing power poured into Jima like warm water, but for the first time, Jima rejected it.
She merely felt relieved that the holy sword could directly slay the soul of the sinner, and that George had stacked so many vulnerability buffs on her allowed her plan to die to succeed.
She saw George seemingly covering his own wounds with his hands.
Darkness surrounded her; oh dark gods, don’t let this arrogant person save me. I don’t want to be a good person, to be someone else’s slave.
Jima’s pupils dilated; her long black hair fell to the ground, mixing with the spreading dark red blood, the golden light from her golden eyes extinguishing.
Darkness.
Still darkness.
She felt her form gathering in the darkness, a part of her missing soul was due to the holy sword.
In the haze of consciousness, Jima relied on her tenacious spirit and willpower, gathering magic to mend her soul.
Quick! Be quick!
Otherwise, there will be no chance of a comeback.
This thought flashed by, and suddenly Jima opened her golden eyes, the light from her golden eyes breaking through the clear water surface.
She “revived”, her true self in the dream temple awakened.
Jima rose from the pool, water dripping from her black hair, bracing herself on the edge of the pool, using all her strength to slowly lift her body.
So weak.
“What time is it?” Jima shouted: “Time? Hurry! Show me the time!”
After several shouts, a personal information system popped up before her, and upon seeing the time.
Jima calculated that from the moment she committed suicide with George’s holy sword to her revival, it took a full nine minutes.
The faster the revival, the greater the cost. Coupled with the holy sword’s ability to directly harm her soul, the cost was heavy, leaving Jima like a toddler learning to walk, spitting out the water from her lungs while carefully stepping on the smooth ground to leave the revival room.
The situation was dire.
Because George had publicly announced her capture, it severely diminished her magical energy gained from the sea of pain. She no longer had the vast magical energy to achieve a quantitative transformation to a qualitative one.
Having paid such a steep price to escape George’s side.
Jima hoped to buy herself some negotiating leverage; she waved her hand, and a table appeared before her. Jima, weak, pressed her hands on the table, spitting out cold water, looking at the floating “Dream Earth” above it — it could display the dreams she could travel through.
But in despair, she discovered a red circle centered around her palace, imprisoning her.
This meant she couldn’t fly directly to the new urban center.
She had no idea what George had done to restrict her mobility.
Earlier, while chatting with George, her planned scheming had failed.
“Bang!”
Jima slammed her fist onto the table.
Escape? Even if she fled to Antarctica, hiding among a penguin colony, George could still drag her out.
Surrender? If unable to fight, then join?
“Heh…” Jima coldly shook her head.
She decided to activate her backup plan, to hold a small desecration ritual. The red circle’s range was still large; as long as she landed in a remote place, she could directly summon her witch using her extraordinary abilities.
Then the witch, surely one of them would escape. The only difficulty was facing George; to stall him, she needed Bald Qiang, who had consumed her duplicate, meaning she couldn’t put her true self in the dream temple and send her duplicate out.
This meant that dying this time was truly dying.
Once that holy paladin discovered the situation was out of control, he would never show mercy.
To survive or to die—this was a dilemma, but Jima didn’t hesitate at all; she raised her hand and commanded: “Arm!”
Branches, axes, and spear tips screamed as they flew into her right hand, pieces of armor falling onto her, the belts automatically fastening, protecting her body.
There was no helmet, as her horns were long, curling backward, resembling a crown. The dark crown fragments flew in, hovering above her forehead, as if adorning the crown with jewels.
Two meters tall Bald Qiang appeared beside Jima, carrying an individual cannon. Together, they jumped into the black-and-white dream realm, arriving in reality.
