At this moment, in his mind, the fat face of that chubby elder on the award platform a few days ago, filled with an amiable smile, along with his eloquent, extravagantly embellished sales pitch...
It finally peeled off all its sugar-coated disguise. It completed an extremely clear, perfectly articulated original audio playback in this instant.
"The Peak Master of Hundred Forging Peak, Lin... ahem, the Peak Master is an otherworldly expert who focuses entirely on researching human potential and ignores worldly affairs..."
"LIN DONG?!!"
Deep in his heart, Mo Fan let out a hysterical, frantic roar, so loud it felt like it would flip his skull open.
"That fringe science madman who tormented my predecessor Lu Xiaoqi until he wished he were dead, almost treating him like a lab rat... Lin Dong?!!"
"That old bastard whom I cried my eyes out over and accused with every word weeping blood in front of Elder Liu Yun?!!"
Mo Fan was completely blue-screened.
He stood blankly on the spot, cold sweat instantly soaking his back like a waterfall. Blown by the freezing alpine wind, he couldn't help but shiver violently.
He finally remembered.
Back then, below the stage, the fat elder had indeed extremely cunningly and vaguely glossed over the character "Lin."
But he was so fucking busy rejoicing over the "remote location" and "enjoying the whole mountain alone"—this perfect undead base configuration!
His brain was full of the beautiful picture of himself walking sideways with hundreds of skeletons!
His overly confident brain actually forcefully filtered out the most fatal, most terrifying keyword—"Lin Dong"!!
This was the tragic price of not paying attention in class, and not reading the extremely hidden predatory clauses when signing an indenture contract!
"Brother Xiaoqi? What's wrong? Why is your face so ugly, like you've seen a ghost?"
Zhao Ziwei walked a few steps forward and, finding no one following, finally noticed something was wrong with Mo Fan.
He turned his head and looked at Mo Fan—whose face was pale as paper, eyes hollow, body still swaying slightly—and ran back with concern to ask:
"Are you tired from climbing the mountain? Or did your old injuries act up?"
"N-Nothing..."
Mo Fan swallowed an extremely bitter mouthful of saliva with difficulty.
He forcibly suppressed the urge to immediately turn around, roll down the tens of thousands of steps, and flee this devil's den.
It was too late. It was all too late.
Since he had already signed this damn indenture contract in front of all the sect's higher-ups, leaving now meant the capital offense of betraying the sect.
"Senior Brother Zhao."
Mo Fan took a deep breath, his voice still trembling slightly, carrying the last, extremely faint sliver of a fluke mentality.
"This Hundred Forging Peak... what kind of place is it exactly? On the stage back then, the fat elder told me this was a secretive lineage with profound heritage, a hidden treasure land..."
"Hidden treasure land? Hahaha! That dead fatty is definitely using that same routine to fool honest people again!"
Looking at Mo Fan's worldview-shattered, teetering appearance, Zhao Ziwei was completely oblivious to his despair. He even laughed somewhat gloatingly, cruelly revealing the bloody truth.
"Brother, you were scammed out of your underwear by that fatty."
"Our Hundred Forging Peak is absolutely no holy land for cultivating the mind and nature, much less does it have any heritage."
Zhao Ziwei pointed at this desolate, pothole-filled abandoned mine mountain, a trace of helpless self-mockery flashing in his eyes.
"This place is the 'problem personnel exile ground' specially established by the Azure Cloud Sect's higher-ups. Put bluntly, it's the Weirdo Asylum."
"There are tens of thousands of people in the sect; when the forest is big, there are all kinds of birds."
"There are always some disciples who commit offenses, but their crimes are rather bizarre and hard to categorize. For example, blowing up the main peak's outhouse while refining pills; or carving array formations that trap their master in a bathtub..."
"These crimes don't qualify to be sent to the Discipline Hall's death row, but keeping them on the main peak is extremely embarrassing, disgraceful, and an insult to decency."
"Because they previously had the successful experience of dealing with Elder Lin Dong, this 'dangerous experimental madman,' the higher-ups of the inner sect experienced a complete enlightenment."
Zhao Ziwei shrugged and spread his hands.
"They stuffed all these 'thorns,' 'weirdos,' and 'psychopaths' lock, stock, and barrel under the name of that madman Lin Dong."
"Nominally, it's letting Elder Lin discipline us on their behalf. In reality, it's just finding a massive garbage dump nobody wants to go to, intensively housing and quarantining us, leaving us to fend for ourselves."
Mo Fan felt a bout of dizziness; the world before his eyes was spinning.
"So..." Mo Fan asked mechanically, as if having lost his soul, "How many of these... 'talents' currently live on our mountain peak?"
"Big and small, about a dozen or so."
Zhao Ziwei counted seriously on his pitch-black fingers.
"Nominally, everyone is martial brothers and sisters. In reality, we each find an abandoned mine shaft in the back mountain and carve out a cave dwelling."
"Usually, we don't interfere with each other. Occasionally, when we're bored out of our minds, we'll visit each other... or 'spar' a bit, and wreak havoc on each other's caves."
Mo Fan was completely numb.
He looked at the youth before him, whose face was covered in black ash and who was holding highly explosive dangerous goods in his hands, and asked subconsciously:
"What about you? What bizarre crime got you exiled here?"
At the mention of this, Zhao Ziwei scratched his messy hair that radiated a scorched smell and rubbed his hands together somewhat embarrassedly.
But those white eyes revealed a hard-to-conceal explorer's pride.
"Actually, I have a mid-grade Fire Spirit Root. My talent is considered pretty good even in the inner sect. But I just can't sit still."
Zhao Ziwei looked left and right, mysteriously lowering his voice, as if sharing some earth-shattering secret.
"When I was on the main peak, I felt uncomfortable all over if I didn't cause trouble for a day. Every day, I'd scale walls and cross ridges."
"I just loved exploring those places hanging 'Sect Restricted Area, Trespassers Will Be Killed' signs. I felt there were definitely big secrets hidden inside!"
"Until late one night last year..."
Zhao Ziwei's expression became extremely vivid, beaming with joy, even carrying a bit of a sleazy snicker.
"Under the guise of researching arrays, I slipped into an extremely hidden rockery cave in the back mountain of the main peak."
"As luck would have it, I accidentally stumbled upon a certain high-and-mighty managing elder of our sect, bare-assed, and his pretty personal female clerk on a stone bed..."
"...sweating profusely as they 'deeply exchanged views on the grand plans for the sect's development.'"
"..." The corners of Mo Fan's mouth twitched again.
"The result is self-evident."
Zhao Ziwei let out a long sigh and spread his hands, face full of innocence.
"That old man almost suffered Qi deviation on the spot. The next morning, the Discipline Hall slapped me with the absurd crime of 'Stepping into the Scripture Pavilion with the left foot first, severely displaying contempt for sect rules.'"
"Along with my bedroll, I was thrown directly from the main peak to here like trash."
Although it was a workplace tragedy sparked by gossip, Zhao Ziwei was clearly an extremely optimistic happy-go-lucky guy.
"But Brother Xiaoqi, don't worry! You'll know when you get here, this place is actually pretty good!"
He opened his arms and took a deep breath of the pungent air carrying strong sulfur and scorched smells, as if breathing the immortal air of freedom.
"Nobody controls you here, nobody rushes you to do morning classes, and there are no broken rules of red tape."
"I can dig and blow up the abandoned mines all over the mountains as I please! This is simply my happy hometown!"
Listening to the dancing, talkative, and excited Zhao Ziwei in front of him...
Mo Fan looked despairingly over his shoulder toward the rolling, smog-filled back mountain ahead.
There, among the hidden clusters of abandoned mine cave dwellings:
Some cave entrances were faintly spewing bizarre, multi-colored toxic smoke.
Some were emitting tooth-aching chainsaw noises, as if someone were cutting bones.
And just a moment ago, from a certain mountain peak, a muffled, massive explosion echoed without warning, accompanied by a mushroom cloud, startling a flock of mutated vultures that let out shrill, eerie cries.
The picture in this moment seemed to freeze into shades of gray and white.
Mo Fan looked up hopelessly at the grayish sky smoked by toxic fumes, hot tears faintly shimmering in the corners of his eyes.
He originally thought that by relying on his flawless Oscar-worthy acting, he had successfully evaded the scrutiny of the higher-ups.
He thought he had found an aloof, undisputed "quiet room" to preserve his life, peacefully develop his undead army, and embark on the peak path of the Undead Scourge.
And the result?
He plunged headfirst into a severe Weirdos Association filled with Frankensteins, ADHD patients, and various bizarre criminals!
In this place full of villains, he, a hidden Necromancer, actually seemed so normal, so weak, pitiful, and helpless!
Moreover, the ultimate chairman of this Weirdos Association was the person he wanted to avoid most in his entire life!
"System..."
Shivering in the cold wind carrying the smell of sulfur, Mo Fan let out the most despairing cry from the depths of his soul.
"Can I fucking... load a save right now?"