I've Become the King of Villains in the Game

The Strength of the Sighing Lady, coupled with the scroll amplification of the old Mage.

Broadcast through Noah's beautiful singing...

The Vice Chairman of the History and Ritual Association, Shakir, was stunned on the spot.

He had never imagined that a group of mid-sequence "Mortals" would dare try to counter-kill him. Even if someone had told him about this before his true body arrived, he would have merely laughed it off.

Because such a thing is simply too ridiculous.

Yet at this moment, Shakir felt an intense sense of unease.

He clearly sensed that he had been hypnotized.

Hypnotized by a Sequence Five [Bone Husband], using some Mysterious Objects combined with a scroll, through the singing of a [Sea Demon]!

How is this possible?

How can a Mortal breach mythical resistance and put him to sleep?

What exactly is that scroll...

Shakir racked his brains but couldn't figure it out.

But he was still not overly worried.

Because even if he falls asleep, the other party doesn't have the means to harm him. The disparity between high ranks and Mortals is too vast... even if he stands still and lets the opponent act, they can't harm a single hair on his body.

And once he wakes himself, it will be their death sentence!

"It's just some useless trick..."

Shakir's eyes flashed coldly.

Bam!

Suddenly, his vision lit up.

Shakir immediately realized that he was standing on a stage.

Bright lights descended from above, shining upon him, and below the stage was a dense crowd of audience, men and women of all ages, dressed in appropriate attire, with expressions of anticipation and smiles directed at him.

About ten meters away stood a blond man in oversized funny clown clothes, hands on hips, looking at him.

This guy...

Wasn't he the Dawn Church Priest who was just split in half by his "magic laser" and died tragically?

How did he appear again?!

"Ha, a dream?"

Shakir sneered, raising his hand ready to use his ability to kill the opponent, but the next moment, he looked down in shock.

His wrist had vanished entirely.

His hand is actually...

Gone?!

"Dear audience, please welcome warmly, Mr. Shakir, the Vice Chairman of the History and Ritual Association!"

Alec shouted loudly.

"Today's performance will have this Saint Your Majesty as the great Alec's partner!"

Clap clap clap...

Rounds of applause immediately erupted, echoing throughout the vast opera house.

Shakir frowned slightly, scanning the audience below; they were no different from regular people, some whispering, discussing dinner and new pipe models, some absent-mindedly looking elsewhere, some excitedly clapping with eyes full of anticipation.

This dream was very real.

But however real a dream might be, it shouldn't affect him—

Boom!!

Shakir instantaneously felt intense pain from his cheek, followed by buzzing in his entire head, his vision trembling and flipping before falling onto the stage's smooth, shiny floor.

Thump of a loud impact.

He fell to the ground, turning his head in disbelief, seeing the blond youth raising a fist, overlooking him.

"Zoning out during the show is disrespectful to the audience; this is a small lesson. If it happens again, I might have to be more ruthless."

"Damn guy..."

Shakir's face flashed with murderous intent, and he got up from the ground.

But the next moment, he suddenly realized that he had lost all his former Strength, becoming no different from a Mortal!

Shakir remained calm, staring indifferently at the guy in front.

Since this was a dream, losing strength was understandable, after all, this was the opponent's turf... but he had been pondering various possible solutions from the start without any results.

Soon, Shakir saw the blond clown raise a hand, wearing a green plush glove puppet resembling a hideous cartoon frog.

The opponent seemed to be truly ventriloquizing on stage, opening and closing the frog puppet's mouth, speaking in a peculiar accent:

"Mr. Shakir is a rude guy; he never speaks politely and likes to bully the weak by relying on power... these days, he's even been abusing cute kittens, consecutively killing over a dozen white cats."

Boos erupted incessantly from the stage.

Some ladies cursed.

Shakir remained expressionless, without any reaction.

He privately observed the surroundings, already having some guesses in his mind.

This dreamscape...

Is likely constructed by the mighty power of either the Deep Sea or Path of Destiny, but this blond clown in reality is clearly just an ordinary person, killed by his own hands... How could he have trapped him?

"Oh, right, Mr. Shakir's favorite pastime is using lasers to kill. Just backstage, he was like this, with a swoosh, slicing me in half, which hurt me to death!"

The blond clown exaggeratedly demonstrated slicing himself with his stomach, portraying his death, making the audience laugh heartily.

Alec raised his other hand, signaling the audience to quiet down. His face with a comical makeup displayed an exaggerated expression as he spoke loudly:

"Thus, I plan to take personal revenge here on this stage, showing him a thing or two..."

"Alright!"

"Beat him to death!"

"Go for it! Great Alec!"

The audience's emotions were stirred up, shouting disorderly.

Shakir found all of this fairly laughable.

"Is such entertainment fun for yourself?"

He said blandly.

"Of course it is, Mr. Shakir."

Alec turned his head, a puzzled look.

"Look—"

He raised the plush toy, the frog opened its mouth widely, and a brilliant green laser burst forth, instantly piercing Shakir's left chest.

Ssss!

Shakir's pupils constricted.

This is exactly the high-rank magic beam he obtained by connecting the remains of a Magic Saint...

Now, it spewed forth from the mouth of such a laughable plush toy, annihilating his heart!

Shakir clearly felt the piercing agony!

For tens of years or even a hundred, he had nearly forgotten what pain felt like... now, he only felt breathless, engulfed by this terrible pain.

"Well done!"

"Wow! The laser is beautiful!"

"Again! Again!"

The audience cheered excitedly.

Alec grinned wickedly, lifted the plush toy, and shot another laser, this time slicing Shakir in half.

Stss—

With a thud.

The upper body of Shakir fell into a pool of blood, his face twisted, eyes filled with disbelief.

This dream...

How can it be so real?!

He could actually smell the scent of death?!

His spirituality was even weakening, about to dissipate...

Thud, thud!

Shakir looked up, only to see the funny blond clown hopping up and down, arriving in front of him. The plush frog toy shook its head in front of him and said:

"Poor Mr. Shakir is still wondering when this dream will end. When he wakes up, he must kill those who mocked him... But what he doesn't know is—"

Alec looked up, laughing heartily:

"You'll never wake up!!"

Bang!

The stage lights suddenly went out.

The voices of the audience came to an abrupt halt.

Shakir felt everything plunge into darkness...

*

*

*

In the quiet big room on the second floor of the apartment building.

A soft sound echoed.

The unburnt cigar rolled onto the ground, emitting wisps of smoke.

Polaris and the others were dumbfounded, watching the unmoving figure in the room, uncertain about what had happened.

The once-aggressive Saint of the association, after saying a few words, stood there blankly, eyes vacant.

Then, the shadow beneath his feet began to climb from his ankles and spread upwards, covering him completely in less than two seconds, as if wrapped in a viscous black liquid.

"What's going on?"

Doghead Gold swallowed, quietly said.

Polaris frowned, speaking in a low voice:

"It must be Lord Noah's doing. He hypnotized this high-rank being and is now eroding the opponent using the shadow power from the Bone Gallery..."

"And, of course, there's my great Alec's contribution. Yes, you guessed right, this guy's spirituality has been torn to shreds by me. Even if nothing is done, he probably won't live much longer."

Everyone looked up and saw Alec, dressed in a brand new Church gray robe, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, posing with a mystifying air.

The high-level players exchanged glances.

Although the information about the circus' senior staff was widespread, Alec's data was the least known. The Polaris squad only knew that this guy had similar abilities to the players, undying and immortal, but his strength was even less than the average person...

Especially fond of bragging.

He was nicknamed the "Delusional Clown."

This clown is not that "clown"; he is a real clown...

The players thought this NPC was acting up again, so they didn't pay much attention. However, Dongyang, with higher emotional intelligence, laughed and complimented:

"Thanks to Mr. Alec's help, we removed this formidable enemy!"

"You have a good eye!"

Alec enjoyed it, his expression smug.

The quiet atmosphere didn't last long. Soon, the shadow covering the association's Saint receded, and the person fell straight onto the ground.

Expressionless, pupils dilated.

"He's dead?!"

Doghead Gold exclaimed in surprise.

Polaris moved closer, squatting down to check.

"Spirituality confirmed extinguished; this Saint has fallen..."

"?!"

All the players were amazed.

Noah, with the power of a Sequence Five Transcendent, actually killed a high-rank Saint unharmed?!

"No wonder Jack valued him so much..."

Shakir's corpse lay on the ground, leaving behind a mythical shell, expelling traits outward. Before long, a vintage brooch emerged in place, along with two pieces of high-rank magical material resembling sapphires.

The former was his residual mysterious object, while the latter was transformed from the Magic Saint remnant he used.

At this moment, everyone suddenly noticed a large black shadow coffin standing in the corner of the wall, seemingly appearing unnoticed.

After a moment of waiting.

A figure slowly emerged from it.

Revealing Noah's petite form.

At this moment, he... He exudes high-rank mythical aura!

"Lord Noah?"

Polaris's expression changed slightly, surprising him.

"You've ascended to high-rank being?!"

Noah took a deep breath, then revealed a shy smile, nodding in response:

"Thanks to everyone's assistance, I have indeed ascended to Sequence Four Darkside..."

"Congratulations to you."

Polaris took off his hat, bowing in salute.

Meanwhile, a panel also prompted, the S-level task "Save the White Cat Missionary" failed.

He was stunned, feeling secretly disappointed.

His own path to high-rank ascension seemed to be postponed again.

However, in the next second.

He noticed the prompt had not stopped—

[Your actions will be sung within the Dawn Church. Many Saint Demi-Gods and even Angels will hear your name "Cyan Robe Apostle" Polaris...]

[Region singing degree increased by 10 points...]

[You have met the opening condition for the Saint Ascension Quest!]

The expression on Polaris's face gradually changed from astonishment to delight!