Looking at the photos of the so-called "Red Guards" on TV, Damian felt a wave of absurd despair—like a beggar who'd spent half his life scraping by, only to learn he had a long-lost uncle in Dubai… who not only left no inheritance upon his death, but had donated his body to science.
He'd cured the Osborns—father and son—yet a gnawing certainty remained: they were still going to die.
After all, openly joining the Communist cause from the heart of the capitalist beast was no safer than enlisting in the Qing army in 2012 or the Nationalists in 1949. It wasn't just reckless—it was historically cursed.
Osborn Industries? A single corporation trying to resist the full might of the United States? That wasn't a gamble; that was sacrilege. Their ancestors would be rolling in their graves—spewing fire, probably.
And not just any fire. The kind with Mach rings.
Damian frowned, shook his head, and turned off the TV.
"Forget it," he muttered. "I'm knee-deep in blood myself—why the hell am I worrying about other people's hemorrhoids?"
He gave the living room a half-hearted tidy-up before dragging his exhausted body toward the bathroom.
After washing up, Damian—still dripping wet, hair plastered to his forehead—hurried straight to the cabinet without bothering to dry off. He carefully pulled out three slender incense sticks, lit them with a lighter, and gently blew out the flame.
As fragrant smoke coiled upward, he held the incense to his brow with both hands, bowed deeply three times before the incense burner, then placed the sticks inside.
"Brother Dawei," he said softly, eyes half-closed. "We've known each other forever. Not blood, sure—but our bond's real, right?"
He paused, then added with sudden urgency:
"Dad… I need your help."
"This place is getting more dangerous by the minute. Right now, I've only got one god-tier unit—Thor—and that's barely enough to keep me breathing! Can you hook me up with another? Doesn't even need to be top-tier. Morax, Barbatos… I'm not picky!"
He took a breath. "I'll count to three. If you don't say anything, I'll take it as a yes."
"Three!"
The moment the word left his lips, Damian clapped his hands over his ears.
Silence.
After a long moment—no booming voice, no thunderclap, not even a flicker of divine disapproval—he slowly lowered his hands.
A slow grin spread across his face. "Perfect."
He closed his eyes and dove into the glowing orb of light nestled in his mind.
Raw Stone: 323
Damian's eyes flew open. He slapped himself—twice—then checked the number again.
He repeated the process three more times before finally accepting the truth.
"Holy crap," he whispered. "Is that trash Grim Reaper seriously worth this much?"
Then it hit him. Of course he was.
Not because of raw power—his strength was negligible. But his existence operated on a conceptual level. If not for those cursed reading glasses that collapsed his metaphysical form into something physical and killable, Damian would never have even seen him—let alone defeated him.
Let alone farmed him.
Giddy with triumph, Damian spun in place, arms outstretched, laughing like a man who'd just won the cosmic lottery.
It took several minutes to calm down enough to think straight. He rubbed his chin, contemplating.
"If I dump everything into gacha pulls, I might snag a few solid characters…"
But then he shook his head. "No. We're critically understaffed. Character cards alone won't cut it—we need full summonings. Time to allocate properly."
The real dilemma loomed: Who?
A powerhouse main DPS? Or a utility specialist with unique support abilities?
His gaze drifted over the character cards in his inventory: Xingqiu, Noelle, Xiao, Lei… Each had merit. Each filled a gap. But resources were limited.
"Ah, screw it," he sighed, flopping onto the couch with theatrical despair. "Let's just roll first. We'll figure out summoning later."
With that, he closed his eyes and hurled 120 Primogems into the gacha pool.
Whoosh—
A serene vision flashed before him: endless blue sky, pillowy white clouds, lush green grass…
Damian blinked.
"…Wait."
Item Cards ×12
Item: [Mint] ×10
Description: Common plant leaves rich in cooling compounds. Refreshing and crisp—perfect for beating the summer heat.
(Note: Grows wild everywhere. Seriously, don't waste money buying this.)
Weapon: Tigerfish Knife
★ ★ ★
Type: One-handed Sword
Base ATK: 401
Secondary Stat: ATK% +35.2%
Skill – [Decisive]: On hit, 50% chance to deal 400% ATK as DMG to one enemy. (Cooldown: 11s)
Item: [Canned Goods Knowledge] ×1
Description: A Sumeru-exclusive knowledge-storage medium, derived from the late Dendro Archon's "Void System."
In Sumeru, knowledge is tightly controlled by the Akademiya—but black-market vendors like Dori still peddle rare canned knowledge at exorbitant prices.
Absorbing this grants instant mastery of the contained skill. However, overreliance may dull independent thought and lead to cognitive rigidity.
Damian stared.
Then he erupted.
For the next two hours, his vocabulary devolved into a linguistic war crime—phrases so profane they'd make a Fatui diplomat blush, violate international decency treaties, and single-handedly justify content filters.
Only when his voice cracked into a hoarse whisper did he finally collapse onto the sofa, heaving like a man who'd just run a marathon through hell.
After catching his breath, he reached into his backpack and pulled out the newly acquired can of knowledge.
Just like the first one he'd ever drawn, it shimmered with a soft green aura—but this time, strange glyphs swirled across its surface. Not Teyvatian. Not even Sumeruan. Something older. Forgotten.
Damian cradled the can in both hands, closed his eyes, and focused.
The container glowed brighter, then released a stream of emerald light—like fireflies made of liquid energy—that seeped into his skin.
A cool current surged up his arms, through his chest, and pooled in his mind.
Buzz… buzz… buzz…
The glow faded. The can became plain glass.
Damian opened his eyes—wide with shock.
"…The Thunder Shield?!"
He exhaled slowly, sifting through the new knowledge now embedded in his mind.
Thunder Shield was an Electro-based elemental skill. Upon activation, it conjured a barrier of crackling lightning around the caster. Not only could it absorb damage, but it also reflected Electro damage to nearby enemies.
And best of all? It was beginne
r-friendly—simple to cast, stable to maintain.
For someone like him—who couldn't afford to die before breakfast—it was perfect.
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