Gamers of the Underworld Chapter 227 - Onionhead’s Letter

The Great White Goose, Blackhand, controlled the situation in a split second.

The gamers became obedient.

Laugh? Any laughing would cause personal equipment to be disintegrated.

All gamers entered training formation mode. Starting from discipline, they stood at attention, then at rest. They turned to the left and the right. They flew up and dug holes at their positions. These were the basic techniques.

The Great White Goose performed two of his killer techniques. He flapped his wings to attain great height, then, using the most powerful source energy, he descended in a free-fall to a.s.sault his enemies on the ground. The gamers called this “Crow Bomber”.

Another technique was to use his body to rotate at high speed in order to create an unstoppable and destructive tornado. The gamers called it “Carpark Wrecking Tornado”.

Though the names were strange, the Great White Goose liked them a lot. He said that he would be teaching the gamers the two techniques in this month. This would repay Lord Sherlock. If any of the gamers weren’t able to learn the techniques, then Blackhand’s clothes would be shredded by the gamers.

The gamers were moved, and they knelt on the ground and cried. Even Sherlock was moved by how the gamers were in awe of the Great White Goose.

Sherlock was relieved that the Great White Goose was training the gamers.

When he returned to the Dungeon Lord Main Hall to browse the discussion forum, he saw many praising posts.

[Discussion of the ruthlessness of the lousy game producers.]

[I lodged a complaint. The game developers must be Devils to produce such a sick game.]

[I haven’t played such a vicious game before.]

There were many forum members who gave support and encouragement.

[AniseHarmony: Your sword and equipment are gone. Continue to be a tribal chieftain~]

[Shadow|ReturnReply|Fish: Expose his insidious intent instead of destroying him.]

[SoftCandyGal: I am the Fourth Calamity. I’m not afraid of anything except for losing my equipment.]

Sherlock closed the pages of the forum. What was there to worry?

…

The training led by Blackhand proceeded smoothly. As there were too many gamers, Blackhand’s training was similar to Moroes. Every session consisted of 100 trainees who would train for a 3-hour session. There were four sessions in a day. The remaining time was for Blackhand to rest.

As a Great White Goose, Mr. Blackhand had a strict biological clock. When night fell, he must have someone tell him a sleep-inducing story.

If not, he would enter a vicious state in which he would choose a gamer randomly and destroy their equipment.

“…as such, the frog and the prince lived happily ever after.” a gamer said gently and was about to s.h.i.+ft his body. It was then a white wing grasped his throat and said, “Tell me another story!”

…

Brainiac looked at the Great White Goose, the gamers queuing to read bedtime stories, and the small Yellow Rubber Ducky in the arms of the Great White Goose.

He turned his head and saw Sherlock sitting in the Burial Hall, reading the Winterfell Daily Digest.

“Lord Sherlock, is that the Great White Goose, Blackhand?” Brainiac sat beside Sherlock and asked.

“He’s quite famous in Winterfell. Though he may not be the best for my citizens, to have the best outcome in the shortest time, he’s the right choice.”

Sherlock browsed through the newspapers, and Brainiac saw articles that had the words:

“Mysterious Fallen Angel, Miss Lilo, is putting the entire Northern Underworld on tenterhooks.”

And, “A true report on the rejection of Eternal Fire’s high management staff by the Fallen Angel. Incorrect, it’s total disregard.”

And, “Who can capture her fancy? The four Winterfell young masters are helpless.”

Every column of the newspaper was reporting on the Fallen Angel. They were previously reserved for advertis.e.m.e.nts.

Brainiac only looked at the articles, he didn’t comment. When Sherlock put down the newspapers, Brainiac said, “To prepare a Spirit Legion within a month is difficult, but a detachment with hundreds of Spirits isn’t a problem.”

“To create a Spirit Legion is indeed hard on you… Go for the Spirit Detachment instead,” Sherlock said to Brainiac.

“I got it.”

Brainiac nodded and turned his head to look at Blackhand. He thought for a while but didn’t say anything.

When Sherlock got up to leave, Brainiac asked, “Lord Sherlock, my Yellow Rubber Ducky…”

“What is it?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Brainiac said without emotion.

“He’s pitiful. His beloved Yellow Rubber Ducky was robbed by his ruthless boss,” Bru said with sympathy, but Sherlock ignored him.

Sherlock pa.s.sed through a tunnel filled with gamers. He returned directly to the Dungeon Lord Main Hall and opened the door. He noticed Eggface standing at attention at the side, a rotating chair, and the computer emitting a buzzing sound. After a while, the buzzing sound vanished.

The computer was just shut down.

Sherlock walked to the computer and touched the core components. It was warm.

“Did you play computer games?”

Sherlock looked at Eggface, who was standing in attention.

“Do you want some tea? I’ll get some tea for you.”

Eggface quickly brewed a cup of b.l.o.o.d.y chrysanthemum tea for Sherlock.

Sherlock sat down and sipped the b.l.o.o.d.y chrysanthemum tea.

“Did you play computer games secretly?” Sherlock asked.

“I feel the calling from the Darkness. I sacrificed myself and lit myself to become the light for the world…” Eggface said softly.

“Lord Sherlock, don’t worry, I have installed a child lock on the computer. Without your permission, he can’t watch any videos!” Bru said solemnly.

Sherlock became silent for a moment and said to Eggface, “Enough, you’ll go out.”

Eggface immediately ran out.

Once the door was shut again, Sherlock was sitting in the chair when a fire lit up in the core. A letter was thrown out.

“To the respectable Lord Sherlock—Dungeon Lord Onionhead.”

“Dearest Lord Sherlock:

I am vacating my Dungeon Lord post. Before I leave, the Merchant Alliance is organizing a Ball to uplift the depressed inhabitants who were attacked by the Ancient G.o.ds. We have invited all the n.o.bles and the nearby Dungeon Lords. If you’re available, do attend our Ball tomorrow afternoon. If you’re able to bring along a dance partner, that would be best.

Love from Dungeon Lord Onionhead.”