Chapter 563

Reality isn't a game, and people aren't NPCs.

Numbers can't measure everything, because numbers have no eyes; they can't observe 【Blade Armor】, can't observe 【Ghost Shadow】, can't observe 【Virtual Claws】, can't observe 【Soul Funeral】 and other limit-breaking skills that exceed normal Martial Dao.

Numbers even less can observe 【Corpse Bone Meridian】, 【Blood Bar Ghost Eye】, 【Shadow Symbiosis】, 【Grand Feast】, 【Blood Frenzy】 and other strange abilities that exceed science.

Let alone there's still 【Marry Death Twin Birth】 this kind of foul trump card.

All kinds of things, can you say these things have no amplification on combat power?

The amplification is too damn huge!

An ordinary person gaining one kind can count as being favored by 【Destiny】, cheating and hanging on.

Yet on Feng Mu's body, invisibly to the naked eye, they're hung full!

Ordinary people's paper strength may have deviation, but more or less possess reference significance; it has completely lost reference value, only deceptive significance remains.

"Current me is strong, strong to the point even I don't know just how strong I am!"

Feng Mu also really wants to test where his current strength limit can touch, but it's hard; he needs a just-right reference object to compare against.

A living, breathing one, capable of letting him use all his tricks, and in the end still barely able to beat himself to death as a reference object.

Only thus can he truly see clear his strength boundaries.

Pity, this kind of reference object is too hard to find, chanced upon but not sought.

Feng Mu really increasingly wants to die once, but just think about it; he can't possibly deliberately go die once, but if he doesn't encounter a true life-and-death crisis, he also can't possibly for no reason expose and display his various trump cards.

"Within Fifth Grade I'm invincible,?"

Words spoken thus, yet he can't give a definite answer.

Fifth Grade Martial Artist's scoring range is 50-100, still within common sense.

But Sixth Grade's scoring range is 100-1000; the span between upper and lower limits is truly ridiculous.

Can say without exaggeration: similarly tested Sixth Grade Martial Artist certificate holders, the strength gap between them may have a heaven-and-earth chasm.

Top-tier crushing bottom-tier, probably even more effortless than Fifth Grade killing First Grade.

As for Seventh Grade?

That long ago wasn't a gap in numbers, but a qualitative change in life layer, a dimension of another species.

"My life level, perhaps already counts as another species' dimension, but my strength probably still can't touch Seventh Grade, so among Sixth Grade Martial Artists, which tier do I belong to?"

Feng Mu didn't realize, the problem he's tangled over is precisely the shared confusion of many Evil Festival Parasites, Strange Polluters.

Life level suddenly pitched high, but strength severely drags behind.

This kind of strange disjointed feeling often lets non-human existences fall into mental extreme contradiction.

Sometimes crazy to do as they please, sometimes afraid trembling with fear.

Say to the bottom, it's just inaccurate positioning of own strength.

Misjudge low, heart-pounding afraid of being caught and dissected, actually still okay; just afraid of misjudging high... that ending, often more tragic than death.

Typical reference figures see Feng Yuhuai, and Dong Ping.

Feng Mu no longer over-tangles; his upgrade not yet finished, still has a most important filial son crying for food, urgently awaiting "hatching" out.

Feng Mu stood up, walked to before the mirror.

He turned head to look toward the row of mirrors embedded in the side wall.

The mirrors were Liu Yi specially placed; also don't know where he learned from, Feng Mu likes when cultivating to face the mirror observing his own state.

In the Internal Investigation Department, if arguing loyalty, Guan Zhong first, no one can surpass.

But if arguing pleasing people, thorough in all aspects, the technical guy Liu Yi in this aspect has the most delicate thoughts.

Feng Mu's eye pupils flickered blood light, three magatama slowly rotating in eye bottom.

Under mirror reflection, several crimson blood bars emerged one by one.

His gaze locked onto one of the numerical values — 【98/98】.

This is 【Grand Feast】's blood bar; since last time falling into deep sleep, 【Grand Feast】 hasn't made a sound again.

After this period of observation, Feng Mu basically can confirm, 【Grand Feast】 didn't lie to him, but truly starved to "unconsciousness".

Feng Mu smiling at the mirror said: "An honest child, Daddy right now goes to find you fresh milk to drink."

Feng Mu just pushed open the office door, several subordinates on duty immediately welcomed up.

Feng Mu led by example treating Second Prison as home; Internal Investigation Department members also mostly deeply infected, eat live sleep all in the prison, work enthusiasm high to a terrifying degree.

Previous life 996, 007 compared to them all weak exploded.

Key is, they never want overtime pay; they're truly doing it for love generating electricity!

Feng Mu smiling waved hand; subordinates very tactful and a bit disappointed retreated down.

Feng Mu alone walked to the incineration room, closed the door, casually pulled open the innermost incinerator door.

Several "fresh milk" wrapped in white fine sand were slowly spat out; Wang Cong indeed didn't disappoint him, always able to process the "ingredients" fresh and clean.

Feng Mu couldn't help smiling, thought in heart:

"Liu Yi although most considerate, but some things still not up to Wang Cong, more understands my recipe tastes ah"

Liu Yi grasped his heart, Wang Cong grasped his stomach, and Guan Zhong wishing to dig out heart and present to him!

Second Prison truly let Feng Mu feel home's warmth.

Current Second Prison, after several accidental purges, from top to bottom, from prison guards to prisoners, every one is his cherished family.

He indeed unwilling to lose any family member again.

But no way, in a huge family, always some individual family members can't help but make mistakes; him living makes other family members live badly.

For these "deteriorated" family members, the best destination perhaps is turning into "fresh milk".

Feng Mu's fingers lightly brushed over "fresh milk packaging"; fingertips touching surface emitted wet sucking sound, as if truly sipping boxed milk.

Several seconds later, fresh milk sucked clean; shriveled box fell on the ground.

No need to clean up; in a bit, Wang Cong will naturally put the "fresh milk box" into his Self-Cleaning Gourd for final recycling, without a single bit of waste.

Prisoners were originally heartless things; turned into fresh milk they love Home even more!

"What a comfortable life this is!"

Feng Mu liked the current rhythm and atmosphere of Second Prison extremely much; afterwards, anyone who attempted to break this tranquility would inevitably face his most fierce retaliation.

Not only for himself, but even more to guard every family member inside Second Prison.

【99/99】!

【100/100】!

【101/101】!

On the spotless metal door of the Incineration Chamber, Feng Mu's constantly jumping Blood Bar was reflected.

The Blood Bar suddenly flickered, emitting a Qiyi black light, on which faintly cracked mottled fine lines.

It looked just like a rectangular egg, being pecked open bit by bit from inside by something; between the cracks, dark red tentacle-like substances could be vaguely seen wriggling.

Something is about to hatch from the Blood Bar!!!

(End of Chapter)