My Abyss Survival Diary

Chapter 89 Adds New Rules

Just as Simon was about to express his thoughts, the flower field around them suddenly surged.

Despite his keen hearing, he couldn't detect any sound?

The soil churned up from the bottom, sending petals and pebbles flying half a person's height, and something darted out from under the soil! Its body was covered in brass-colored scales, its joints were exposed, its gears were meshing, and its hydraulic rods were extending and retracting.

Its head is that of a hunting animal, but its lower jaw has been replaced with steel pincers, three steel cones are welded to the canines, and its four feet are barbed metal claws that embed themselves deeply into the soil when it lands.

It pounced on Simon, so fast that Flannery had only half-drawn her gun.

Simon immediately held the harpoon horizontally in front of him, with the tip pointing to the left and the shaft close to his chest.

The steel pliers gripped the fork, sparks flying. The mechanical hound's teeth were embedded in the metal and couldn't be pulled out. He didn't give it a chance to pull them out; the harpoon slammed down, smashing the hound's head into the mud.

Simon raised his harpoon, ready to deliver the final blow, when he heard a flurry of footsteps all around him.

"Clockwork Hound." Carl emerged from the flower field, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.

He was wearing a dark gray long trench coat with the collar turned up, and he walked over like he was taking a leisurely stroll in his own backyard.

Facing Simon's harpoon and Flannery's gun, he fearlessly introduced his creation to them:

"This is a perfect combination of machinery and flesh. With its extremely strong hunting ability and a body of steel, it doesn't need healing or feeding. Most importantly... it's obedient."

The hunting dog crawled out of the mud, shook its head, and with iron filings still clinging to its steel pincers, it crouched down at Karl's feet, its mechanical legs folded, and the gears stopped turning.

Carl smiled as he looked down at it, then reached out and patted its head, the metal scales making a soft clicking sound under his palm.

"Let me see, haha, this is a harmonious and loving team." Karl couldn't help but laugh. "Sinners, tunnel raiders, heretics, and a nun... how did you assemble this team?"

A smile was on his face, but the smile gradually turned cold.

"So you guys really have formed an alliance. You get along so harmoniously, I'm almost envious."

The nun already held the holy hammer in her hand, head down, gripping the handle tightly. Her right eye was fixed on Karl, her pupils filled with rage.

"I guess your next step is to encourage her to go back to the first level to report the news." Carl's thinking was clear. "But sorry, as the organizer of the Slaughter Game, I will not tolerate people unrelated to the game entering my game. I have confiscated all the vehicles you know that lead to the first level. There are no hot air balloons, nothing at all, unless you plan to slowly climb up."

With a roar, the nun swung her holy hammer and smashed it down on Calder's head.

thump—

A thick metal arm blocked the attack for him, and a giant figure emerged from the flower field. Karl never went out alone; he always had mechanical armor acting as his bodyguard.

A burst of milky white steam erupted from the heat dissipation vents, and the cast iron warrior stood before them like a fortress, its peepholes scattering a chilling red light.

"Give me back the flesh that serves as evidence of my guilt!" The nun's eyes widened in fury as she swung her hammer again. "That's what my sisters paid for with their lives."

"Give it back to you?" Karl put his hands back in his pockets. "Sister, that's not how it works. I helped your Holy Hammer Sisters descend to the third level, and you traded gold with me. There were no problems up to this point, but who healed you when you returned to the second level, covered in wounds? I found the best doctor to treat you, and consider that piece of flesh as payment for the doctor's medical expenses."

The nun's lips trembled, and the head of the holy hammer quivered slightly in the air.

Simon pulled the harpoon from where the mechanical hound had bitten him and stuck it in the mud at his feet. He looked around, his senses picking up more information.

"There's more than one steam-powered armor around; he's trying to lure you in."

The nun looked at Simon and silently put down the holy hammer.

Carl's grin widened even further.

"Mr. Simon, you are a smart man. I won't kill you. After all, you are one of the candidates I have in mind for the new Iron Emperor. I don't want to lose such an excellent candidate."

His tone toward Simon was always so calm, as if he were speaking to a close friend.

"But I can kill your companions, one after another, Klein, Flannery, Professor Loris, the beautiful lady in the birdcage, and this one..." He gestured with his chin toward the nun, his eyes scanning her like a dish yet to be served. "Hatred is the best catalyst. I will kill until you hate me, until you are willing to take this game seriously, until you only have eyes for me, only for this game."

"Your mental state is as bad as the game you set up." Simon wasn't provoked, but responded coldly, "I just feel sorry for you. You have so many resources, yet you do such absurd and ridiculous things."

Carl's calm expression betrayed a hint of weakness. He could accept the humiliation he inflicted on himself, but he would not allow anyone to humiliate this "trial" he had meticulously crafted, this game of slaughter that he was so proud of.

Frani drew her twin pistols and pointed them at Karl. Karl didn't look at her; instead, he snapped his fingers at the wind-up hound.

With a clicking sound, the hound stood up, its steel pincers opened, and the gears re-engaged, as if it had never been injured.

"Starting tomorrow, new rules will be added." Karl added new rules to his absurd game, and he announced loudly: "First, each faction must hand over one Slayer Bee every day, regardless of the color of its compound eyes, to the Friendly camp before the spores change color each day. If you fail to hand it over, I will kill one of your hostages. I will kill one every day until only the Iron Emperor candidate remains."

He paused, his gaze shifting from Franny to the nun, and then from the nun to Simon.

The nun must die; she is a hidden danger, the biggest hidden danger in the entire Sinful Slaughter game.

"Secondly, this nun will become a bounty target in the game. No matter who killed her, even if it was one of your own people, I promise to give the person who killed her unlimited supplies: canned food, bullets, medicine, fuel, injections, whatever they want."

"Enjoy the game." He turned around and walked deeper into the flower field, the wind-up hound following behind him, its mechanical legs moving alternately.

His voice drifted from the flower bushes, carrying a chilling pleasure: "Don't even think about escaping. You can't. There's no exit on the second level. No one can leave before the Slaughter Game ends."

The flower fields on both sides gradually closed in, and the petals surged behind him, swallowing the shadow of the dark gray trench coat.