In the middle of Mortimer's interrogation of questioning, he was desperately trying to come up with a believable excuse in his head.
Suddenly, Murky, who can be seen inside their crystal ball, burst into loud laughter, completely interrupting the proceedings.
"Hahahaha!
"Is this all that the old man boasted about his impressive descendants?"
Murky sneered with a smug expression, his voice filled with mockery.
"Are these the so-called elite progenitors??"
Disappointed, he frowned and continued, "Sigh, if these are all there is to it, these younger generations of elites are weak and useless!"
He couldn't help but laugh again, the sound echoing through the room.
But just as Murky was enjoying themselves, he received a notification from the nightmare system that caught his attention.
Ding!
[ The player stupidLove has killed and absorbed almost forty creatures. Once the player StupidLove reaches the 50/50 threshold, the player StupidLove will gain control over the three Nematoceran hounds. ]
The nightmare system rang out in Murky's mind like a bell.
As Murky processed this information, his face changed, filled with astonishment.
As he read the message over and over again, he was unable to believe what he was seeing.
Confused, he decided to read it ten more times just so he could be sure, but it didn't change the fact that he was still amazed.
After finally understanding the implications, Murky burst into laughter once again. But this time, his laughter seemed to shake the world, like thunder rumbling through the sky.
"Hahahaha!
"Wow, what kind of sorcery is this?"
Murky exclaimed, completely astounded by his incredible stroke of luck. It was as if his wicked nature had been rewarded and his actions justified.
After all, he worked hard for it.
Kidding aside— with a triumphant cry, he opened his mouth and shouted, "OLD MAN!"
Pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, he continued, "WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOUR BET AGAINST ME WILL FAIL! IF THESE ARE YOUR BEST, THEN YOUR RACE IS WORTHLESS, USELESS AND WEAK! HAHAHAHA!"
Murky's voice echoed with such intensity that it felt like his very essence was poured into those words.
He was cursing the old man because he had a plan. If it didn't work, well, he had nothing to lose, so he didn't care. However, if it does, he might have something big.
Looking at the three Nematoceran hounds once again, Murky motioned for them to come closer with a curl of his finger, his voice taking on a teasing tone.
"Come...
"Come…
"Three little shitty puppies."
To his surprise, the hounds obediently approached.
As Murky examined their canine faces, an irresistible urge compelled him to speak.
"Do you feel more submissive with each creature I defeat? Are you impressed by my mysterious skills?"
He couldn't contain his curiosity.
However, Murky was not yet satisfied and continued his inquiry, asking, "Is this how you operate? If I were to slay and absorb more of your kind, would you three submit to my command?"
His questions hung in the air, filled with a childlike sense of curiosity.
As Murky observed the hounds trembling in response, he deduced that his assumptions were correct.
The nightmare system had mentioned it, and countless movies had hinted at such dynamics. If these three were ordinary first-class Nematoceran hounds, Murky would need to eliminate at least ten of their kind.
If they belonged to the second class, the number would rise to twenty, and so on.
Thus, Murky concluded that fifty creatures would be enough to bend these three Nematoceran hounds of the fifth class to his will— complete control, whether they live, die or not.
Soon after, Murky let out a deep sigh, his disappointment evident as he addressed the trio before him.
"Oh, you three," he began, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and resignation.
"If you insist on bringing me these feeble, insignificant humanoid creatures once again, my disappointment would be immeasurable.
"You see, your old man and I made a wager. A wager that I could easily overcome any newborn creature you throw at me, even your so-called 'elites.' I would be given a reward.
"He even honored me with that honor code he spoke of.
"So where are they? Why haven't your elites arrived? Will I get the price of the bet if they didn't come?"
With determination, Murky raised his hands, placing them just below the jaws of the two Nematoceran hounds standing in front of him.
He locked his gaze with theirs and continued, "I don't care about your old man's whereabouts, but deliver a message to him. Tell him to send me more of those elites he speaks so confidently of. I will slay them all and present their lifeless heads to him, along with his newborn Progenitors, when he returns to his spaceship.
"Do you understand the seriousness of my words?"
Murky's tone grew menacing, leaving no room for doubt.
In a swift motion, he pushed the three hounds, urging them forward.
"Go!"
He commanded, his voice filled with authority. And without hesitation, he swiftly kicked each of them, emphasizing his orders.
"Go!
"Go!
"Go!"
He repeated, his voice resonating with unwavering determination.
Murky even gestured with authority, compelling them to fulfill their assigned task. And soon, the three dogs, their eyes filled with fear and apprehension, departed from his presence.
However, just as the hounds were about to disappear into the distance, Murky's eyes sparkled with a sudden realization.
"Wait!"
He shouted, his voice echoing through the air.
The Nematoceran hounds halted in their tracks, their bodies frozen with anticipation.
Turning back, they looked at Murky with a mixture of confusion and unease.
"Come back here for a moment, you three," Murky called out, his voice filled with intrigue.
There was something about his demeanor that hinted at a change of plans, a shift in the story.
Intrigued and feeling a deep fear in their beings, the hounds turned back and returned to Murky, the enigmatic figure who had caught their attention.
With their heads lowered, the three hounds obediently approached Murky, taking cautious steps. Then, Murky crouched down, inspecting something hidden from view.
He reached out and skillfully grasped a peculiar spherical object, its purpose shrouded in mystery.
Clack!
Curiosity gleamed in Murky's eyes as he held it up, examining its every detail.
A sudden realization struck him, and Murky called out to the other two hounds who were beside the one he took something of.
He swiftly took two identical spheres from them.
Clack! Clack!
Now in possession of three of these mysterious objects, Murky gestured for the hounds to leave, their task completed.
Shoo!
He lazily said.
As the hounds disappeared into the distance, Murky's attention returned to the peculiar artifact he held.
Although Murky knew exactly what it was, he pretended to be ignorant, hiding his true understanding.
He scrutinized the object, as if searching for its purpose, all the while aware of the elder's watchful eye.
"What is this shit?"
He pondered aloud, a mix of intrigue and weariness in his voice. However, after spending a considerable amount of time examining the artifact, Murky's interest began to slowly fade, his patience wearing thin.
Shifting his focus to the lifeless remains of the two fallen Sword Clan Progenitors, Murky engaged in a macabre task.
He carefully gathered specific body parts with unique features, alongside the heads, tusks, and tails of the slain creatures. With a sense of satisfaction,
Murky considered his collection complete. He sighed as he clapped his hands together, trying to remove the blood and debris that clung to his skin.
But then, a sudden realization interrupted Murky's brief moment of rest.
"Oh..."
He muttered, a wave of forgetfulness washing over him. He took one of the marbles from his pocket and examined it once again, a flicker of fleeting interest in his eyes.
However, apathy quickly took hold.
"Whatever, forget this," he declared, his voice filled with frustration and indifference.
In a dramatic gesture, Murky pretended to prepare to throw the marble away, his arm poised to release it.
Yet, before he could follow through, a clear and commanding voice cut through the air, freezing him in place.
"Hold on you wrenched!"
The voice called out, stopping Murky in his tracks.