Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Chapter 184: Nether Puppet (3)



The system responded almost immediately, its tone dripping with smugness. [Well, of course. Did you think that dim-witted corpse-puppet-loving elder could craft something this... genius?] It gave a derisive chuckle. [It was my brilliance that made it what it is. As usual, I had to step in and fix things.]

Lucas's smirk widened. "I figured as much. This new version you created is quite interesting. I don't even need a corpse filled with deep resentment and fear anymore, like the old manual required." He paused, his tone curious yet impressed. "All it needs is a strong, resentful soul. That soul can be fed with others to grow stronger."

[Exactly,] the system chimed in, clearly enjoying Lucas's recognition of its superiority. [A significant improvement, wouldn't you say? Unlike the old, outdated methods. Why waste time finding a corpse with the 'right' emotions when you can mold a powerful soul with ease?] The system's voice dripped with arrogance, as if it had rewritten the rules of cultivation itself.

Lucas nodded, leaning back in his chair. "And as for the puppet's body?" he continued, his voice calm but probing for more details. "It only needs some rare materials and pure Death Mana. Poisonous to most, sure, but not to us."

The system practically purred with satisfaction. [Exactly. While others would be corroded by that mana, you? You're special. This is why my modifications make the manual leagues better than anything that old fool Thalnor or even the Malachor Clan could dream of. No one else could use it quite like you.]

Lucas chuckled softly at the system's shameless self-praise. He had to admit, it wasn't wrong. "I've noticed something else too," he said, his voice shifting into a more thoughtful tone as his amusement gave way to calculation.

"The manual you modified—it now allows any cultivator who uses it to control not just their own Nether Puppets, but also those made by other practitioners of the same manual." He paused for effect, his expression darkening slightly as he continued, "And the fact that my use of pure Death Mana makes me irreplaceable? No one can even inspect or challenge my identity as the true creator.

It's flawless."

There was a brief moment of silence as Lucas frowned, his mind lingering on a more pressing question. "But what I don't get," he said, the curiosity in his voice sharpening, "is why we even gave them this manual. It's far stronger than what they had before. What's the real play here?"

He leaned forward, his smirk fading into a look of suspicion. "Knowing your cunning mind, system, there has to be more. What did you really do to the manual?"

The system didn't respond immediately. Instead, it let out a dark, almost playful chuckle, clearly savoring the moment. [Ah, so you've noticed,] it said, its tone dripping with arrogance. [I suppose it was only a matter of time before you started asking questions.]

Lucas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. The system's arrogance was nothing new, but it was moments like these where its cunning truly shone through.

[The question is,] the system continued, its voice oozing with condescension, [do you want to know what I did? Or do you really want to know?] It emphasized the word "really," drawing out the moment like a cat playing with its prey.

Lucas couldn't help but grin, feigning mock reverence as he clasped his hands together in an exaggerated display of deference. "Oh, great divine system, please enlighten me. I am but a humble servant of your vast and limitless wisdom," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The system let out a snort, clearly pleased with itself. [Hehe, flattery will get you nowhere, but since you asked so nicely...] It paused, savoring the moment again. [Alright, I'll tell you.]

The system began its explanation, detailing every change it had made to the Nether Puppet manual. It spoke in its usual smug, self-satisfied tone, weaving intricate modifications that no one in the Malachor Clan would ever notice, let alone suspect. Each word was filled with pride, as if the system were painting a masterpiece and relishing every stroke.

As Lucas listened, his smirk widened, his dark amusement only deepening. His eyes gleamed with a wicked delight, reflecting the brilliance of what he was hearing. "What the hell... you can actually do that?" he asked, half in disbelief, though his tone carried more admiration than shock.

The system, not one to miss an opportunity to gloat, responded without missing a beat. [Of course I can,] it replied smugly, practically preening at the praise. [Did you expect anything less from me?] There was a teasing mockery in its voice, as if the mere thought of being questioned was offensive.

Lucas, still cloaked in the form of Thalnor, leaned back in his chair, letting out a soft laugh. The sound was one of pure satisfaction, the kind of laugh that comes when everything falls perfectly into place. He shook his head slightly, still processing the brilliance of the system's design. "You're truly evil and brilliant, system."

The system, shameless as ever, echoed his sentiment. [Of course I am,] it said, its voice dripping with smug satisfaction, as if Lucas had merely confirmed what it already knew. [And you, my dear host, are lucky to have me. Let's not forget that.]

Lucas chuckled again, but this time there was a knowing glint in his eyes. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had hoped—perhaps even better. He didn't need to say anything more; the system's arrogance spoke for itself. The plan was in motion, and the true depth of it? That was a secret only he and the system shared, a mystery that no one else would ever fully grasp.

With his mask still in place and his mind filled with dark anticipation, Lucas let the silence settle, knowing that soon enough, the results would speak louder than any words.


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