Apocalypse Forecast-Chapter 626 - 521: Troupe (Thanks to the Chief SADXWZ123)_1
From a standstill to a sprint, he accelerated to extreme speed in an instant.
The phantom of Harry Quinn materialized from the air for a moment before plunging into the Buried Sacred Place. Under the dazzling glow of his two curved swords, darkness itself was briefly torn asunder.
The elusive enemy launched another attack.
Huai Shi raised his hand, and Mountain Ghost stepped out from the darkness.
The first to rush forward, an ominous old man, hadn’t even reacted before he was cleanly hacked to pieces under Mountain Ghost’s dual swords.
Even Harry Quinn was taken aback, not expecting his opponent to be so easily dispatched. But soon after, a sharp pain lanced through his back. The figure of Red Gloves suddenly appeared, a Sacrificial Knife plunging deep into his vitals.
Then, before him, the austere Priest emerged from the darkness. He gripped a ferocious Axe Blade at his waist, lifted it, and aimed it at Harry Quinn’s face to strike.
It was standard Roman heavy infantry footwork.
SNAP. A light sound.
When the Axe of Anger swept past, Harry Quinn’s form dissolved like a torn raincoat.
Relying on the tactic of forgoing the Sandbank Curtain, he had created a decoy. The real Harry Quinn had already bypassed Mountain Ghost’s engagement, leaping out from the howling Crow Flock.
He was now wearing a garish, multicolored garment, looking utterly bizarre. But as he moved, the strange mask he wore began to recite ancient poems and classics.
His two curved swords danced wildly and, in an instant, arrived before Huai Shi.
Grinning wickedly, the two curved blades swooped down.
Then, a coldness pierced his chest.
Huai Shi, expressionless, raised his hand; the Sword of Virtue had already pierced through Harry Quinn’s chest.
"That’s it?" Huai Shi looked up and asked.
Harry Quinn’s movements froze; he stood rooted to the spot.
He looked down and saw the sword blade that had penetrated his chest.
Incredulous. What the hell? What on earth? What just happened? Why... would a summoner... be fucking stronger than a Pokémon?!
Just now, in the span of a microsecond, right before his eyes, Huai Shi had drawn the Sword of Virtue. He lifted it, leveled it, and effortlessly swept aside the two strangely curved swords crisscrossing towards him. He then thrust it straight forward, overpowering cunning with brute force, and plunged it into Harry Quinn’s chest.
It was as if Harry Quinn had deliberately presented himself to be stabbed.
The movement was so graceful, flowing like clouds and water.
Utterly enchanting.
The blow landed.
Without any hesitation, Huai Shi released his grip, and the Sword of Virtue dissipated.
Behind Harry Quinn, Red Gloves lifted a foot and kicked hard into the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel. Huai Shi, meanwhile, had already taken the Axe of Anger from Van Essen, aiming it at the exposed neck before him.
He lifted it and brought it down! Decapitation!
A wailing noise suddenly erupted.
At the final moment, Harry Quinn vanished.
In his place, a burly figure burst in from outside the Buried Sacred Place.
A man abruptly appeared in the carriage. Wearing high-top leather boots and an old-fashioned fur military cap, he strode forward. His face was adorned with an exaggerated mask identical to Harry Quinn’s. He pulled a military saber from his waist, raised it, and saluted Huai Shi with his sword.
This was the final declaration before a duel. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞
The officer-like masked man stepped forward fiercely. Behind him, several figures identical to him appeared—not illusions in the slightest, all of them were solid, burly men wearing the same masks as the officer.
Six of them!
As the heavy military sabers slashed down towards Huai Shi, they unleashed a thunderous roar.
Seven officers lined up, as if in a military drill, their movements synchronized as they launched their "Offensive" against Huai Shi.
The Candle-Holding Crow dove instantly, its fleeting lamp a flash in the darkness. By the time the officers broke through its obstruction and their sabers descended, the young man before them had, at some unknown point, been replaced by the bewildered, ominous old man.
He was hacked to pieces indiscriminately.
Behind them, somber praises rang out.
"Holy!!!"
Van Essen’s axe fell!
In the darkness, Red Gloves gripped the Sacrificial Knife, once more piercing an officer’s back. The blade thrust from back to front, protruding from the officer’s chest. Instantly, that officer dissolved into silent ash.
As countless sinister afterimages flickered, Soloist, holding a banner, silently appeared before them. Her Sword of Virtue descended, parrying three military sabers that hacked down.
Sparks flew.
Ghost-like, Soloist moved throughout the Buried Sacred Place. Surrounded by countless rising and falling crows, she abruptly appeared and vanished. Silent as the Yu Step was activated, she was already by an enemy’s side.
She raised her hand, pierced, the Sword Blade through a throat.
She yanked it sideways.
A head soared skyward, blood plasma sprayed, but soon, the deceased also vanished without a trace, like a Phantom.
Then, two new, fully-formed officers stepped out from the crowd and attacked Huai Shi again, without any hesitation or fear.
Is this some kind of Yan Qingge alt account?!
Huai Shi frowned.
Before he could launch his "Offensive," he heard Andrea’s voice.
"Step aside."
The phantom of the Red Dragon roared.
In her hands, the plasma torrent she had been brewing for a long time blasted towards the figures inside the Buried Sacred Place. The blinding lightning showcased the sheer brutality of physics. Terrifying heat rose, and all enemies were incinerated.
Only one figure staggered back, hiding behind a middle-aged man cloaked in an academic gown.
The black-clothed middle-aged man waved a hand, effortlessly gathering the electricity into a ball in his palm, which then quickly dispersed. Only a frenzied electrostatic field spread out, accompanied by a CRACKLING sound.
"Doctor?" Andrea raised an indifferent eyebrow, shifting her gaze to glance at the disheveled officer by his side. "And the Colonel, as well as... Pant Delong? Add Harry Quinn, and it seems your troupe really went all out this time."
At the end of the carriage, the disheveled Harry Quinn sat on the ground, the gash in his chest slowly mending.
Next to him stood a man dressed in opulent formal attire. His hands, adorned with rings of various colors, gave him an air of ostentatious wealth and imposing presence.
His hair was salt-and-pepper, and the mask on his face resembled that of a stern old man. His demeanor was haughty and arrogant—clearly the ’Pant Delong’ Andrea had mentioned.
When Andrea referred to them as a troupe, Huai Shi finally understood.
Although he consistently failed his culture classes, he still had access to plenty of the Astronomical Society’s materials. Naturally, he was familiar with this primeval miracle that had first emerged during the Roman era.
Harry Quinn sounded like a popular comic book character, but tracing its etymology revealed it was actually the prototype for the term ’clown.’
Combined with the titles Doctor, Colonel, and ’Pant Delong,’ he now understood the true identity of his assailants.
Much like the Dongxia Social Security Office’s traditional roles of Male Lead, Female Lead, Painted Face, Secondary Male, and Clown, or the ’Twelve Zodiacs,’ these were special legacies passed down through the ages. They were Stigmas that originated in the Roman era, acquiring Correction Values through performance and storytelling.
These were miracles born from Roman masked theater.
Interpreted through Dongxia’s traditional culture, Harry Quinn would be the ’Clownish Male role’; the Colonel, a warrior akin to the ’Painted Face role’; and the Doctor and Pant Delong would be ’Old Male roles’...
However, Huai Shi didn’t know much about them.
He only remembered that in modern times, with the fragmentation of Rome, their legacy had traveled to America.
After being revised from the Source by the American Genealogy, it became a specialized Stigma tailored for unique Sublimators. It lacked the prerequisites and consequences of a typical sublimation path, emerging independently as a distinct element, and becoming increasingly mysterious and covert.
He had never expected to encounter them here.
"The Ivy League sends its regards to you both." The refined and dignified Doctor bowed politely to his opponents. "I had not expected that we would meet again in Hell. The last time I saw Professor Andrea was at the aerodynamics seminar, was it not?"
"The last time we met, I wanted to punch that sissy nose right off your face. Are you seriously here to greet me?" Andrea retorted indifferently. "So, you’re our competition this time, huh? Does a ragtag bunch like the Ivy League actually have the nerve to challenge the Ivory Tower now?!"
"If I am not mistaken, our school has always led in Source Substance Transformation Chemistry and Abyssal Creature Biochemistry." The Doctor chuckled softly. "We also hold a consistent advantage in Chemical Thermodynamics and Polymer Chemistry, and we’re rapidly gaining ground in Materials Physics too, aren’t we?"
"What about the disciplines where talent can’t simply be bought? If academia relied solely on poaching, the Magic Gold Bank would be the most advanced institution in the world. Ultimately, aren’t you just weak? Why not honestly admit you’re no better than a chicken?" She paused, her expression turning scornful. "Forgive my bluntness, but your last ’breakthrough’ in aerodynamics... was nothing but unusable trash. In the Ivory Tower, it wouldn’t even qualify as a doctoral student’s dissertation."
"Ha! After dabbling with those alchemical scraps, even your understanding of thermodynamics has become tainted. It seems to have made you quite arrogant, Ms. Andrea," the Doctor’s tone sharpened. "It’s precisely because more and more people are seduced by these unorthodox methods that the academic atmosphere has grown so fickle, isn’t it? If the Ivory Tower has no shame, perhaps you should purchase a few kilograms from the Flesh Workshop. Need a loan?"
"No need. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to spend money tainted by your fabricated data and plagiarized papers!"
"..."
Huai Shi, standing in the back, watched in confusion as the two people in front inexplicably started arguing.
He was baffled. Turning to Raymond, who had just emerged from the cockpit, he asked softly, "What’s going on?"
Raymond, hauling oversized shackles, grinned. "Academic disputes. Common, very common. We just wait for them to finish their squabble, then we get to kill these sons of bitches—"
The argument, which started with physics, had escalated, a clash between the arrogance and disdain of the Ivory Tower veteran and the contempt and fury of the Ivy League representative.
At first, Huai Shi watched the drama unfold. But when the mockery extended to Abyssal Ecology, he couldn’t restrain his anger. He rolled up his sleeves and pulled Beelzebub from his bag.
"Motherfucker, say that again?!"
The power-leveler was online. The Fly King’s ’fragrance’ instantly filled the entire carriage: "Careful, or I’ll be playing my cello while digging up your mother’s grave! One serenade will be enough for your whole family’s funeral! Don’t like it? Bring it on! Believe it or not, after today, I can teach students how to mix your ashes with rice to feed the dogs!"
