Sorcerer’s Handbook

Chapter 136: The Beast Wearing the Coat of Civilization

Chapter 136: The Beast Wearing the Coat of Civilization

Eight years ago, in 1660, in Caimon City.

On a sweltering summer day, Fernand Snow drove his sedan to the lower district, a place he had sworn never to set foot in again.

At this time, the old Mayor Pong was preparing to resign and retire due to his death during virtual realm exploration, coupled with his old age and declining health. Fernand Snow took this opportunity to collude with council members, bribe civil servants, and secure his position as the next mayor. It was also during this time that he established his Forest Gallery, which held significant influence over the upper echelons of Caimon City.

At this crucial moment of planning for the mayoral election, he put aside all official duties, canceled all meetings, and drove an inconspicuous small sedan alone. He parked it by the side of a road so decayed that it seemed to produce its own filth. He turned the cars air conditioning to the maximum, smoked his pipe, and stared at an art studio at the corner of the street.

It was a typical Ogre Art Studio.

The entire street was full of Ogre Art Studios, so the smell was unbearable everywhere, greatly suppressing the surrounding property prices.

Oil painting is a unique talent of Ogres, a low-quality citizenry with an average education level equivalent to prenatal education. They naturally would not challenge the difficulty of life; if they could slack off due to their talent, they would slack off to the point where they could not be helped.

Although there are many practitioners, this industry is not saturated; on the contrary, it is in high demand. A real Ogre Oil Painting could be said to be in short supply.

The reason is that Ogres occasionally resonate with the Virtual Realm while painting. The oil paintings created under this state allow viewers to slowly enhance their factional boundaries, equivalent to sailing in the Virtual Realm.

However, Ogre Oil Painting has a time limit, and it will lose its effect in about 60 days. Therefore, Ogre Oil Paintings are not works of art, but consumables. They are consumables that can still have effects on Sorcerers, and naturally, they are of high value.

But the premise is that they can resonate with the Virtual Realm and paint a true Ogre Oil Painting. If they cant resonate with the Virtual Realm, they are simply producing trash.

Therefore, most Ogre painters will first work as apprentices in the art studio for several months or even years. They work and learn at the same time until they paint their first painting and earn their first pot of gold. As for the work content of the apprentices, there is no need for cleaning, after all, not many Ogres like cleanliness.

If it wasnt for the sake of dignity, Fernand Snow would also want to tear off this white shirt that was so tight it seemed to strangle him.

As he exhaled a ring of smoke, Fernand Snow glanced sideways and saw a young Ogre passing by his car.

The young man was wearing a white vest that had now turned brown, and shorts full of holes. His height of 1.9 meters was considered short among Ogres, but his appearance was closer to the standard race, with a ferocious but not ugly set of pointed teeth.

He was carrying two large lunch boxes in his hands. This was his duty as an apprentice: buying meals for the painters.

Ogres wanted to eat every two hours, and they loved hot food the most. But they were too lazy to go to the restaurant, and the labor cost of ordering takeout was outrageously high no delivery person was willing to come to the Ogre district, as they wouldnt even be compensated by insurance companies if they were harmed here so hiring an Ogre apprentice became the most ideal choice.

After all, there was no need to pay them, just provide them with meals.

The moment he saw this young man, Fernand Snow was stunned.

The young man was also looking at the car, as if he was having a stare-off with the middle-aged Ogre inside.

But after looking around and confirming that no one was around, the young lad smiled crookedly, spat a mouthful of foul and turbid saliva at the car window, then put down the lunch boxes and urinated on the car door. After he was done, he even picked up a small stone and scraped the car body harshly, the piercing sound like a knife piercing through Fernand Snows eardrums.

The car window and the windshield were double-glazed, and one couldnt see the inside from outside.

Watching the young man trudge down the scorching street, whistling while carrying lunchboxes to the art studio, he seemed to be scolded by the boss as soon as he entered. He nodded and bowed with a pleasing face, then secretly spit into one of the lunchboxes before respectfully walking in.

Throughout the process, Fernand Snow remained motionless, his hand still holding the posture of clenching a pipe.

His gaze followed the young mans retreating figure, until the latter disappeared from sight.

Finally, he drove back to the Government Affairs Hall and reported the cars damage.

He had never bought a painting from the young man, nor had he sent anyone to help him. In fact, after that, he never saw the young man again.

Even to get the latest information on the young man, Fernand Snow had asked the Heresy Court to investigate a dozen ogres under the guise of guarding against serious ogre crimes, and the young man was one of them.

When Fernand Snow and the young man were separated only by a thin car window, but he dared not roll down the window, this man who had risen from the bottom to the top of power in Caimon City finally understood the terrifying pathology of this realm.

Eight years later, in 1668, at the Broken Lake Blood Moon Trial.

Fernand Snow looked at the pale-faced Andrei and said, Did you know, in most realms, all races maintain the basic unit of the family

Kenmen subconsciously said, Thats because theyre backward.

I have no interest in debating whether the Family System is backward or advanced, I just want to point out one thing. Fernand Snow showed a fierce smile: In other realms, the ruling races can reproduce autonomously, even giving birth to royal and noble families!

Everyones faces turned increasingly pale, illuminated redder and redder by the Blood Moon. Kenmen nearly begged: So their classes are solidified, theyre backward, the Blood Moon Realm is the most civilized realm

The reason why we prohibit the existence of families is because our ruling race cannot reproduce autonomously, they are born homeless! Fernand Snow roared: Blood Saint Blood Exchange, Moon Shadow Moon Wash, they lose the ability to reproduce after changing their race, to develop new offspring, they must transform members of other races!

The Blood Moon Dual Race is like a parasite that cannot survive on its own, they absorb the best talents of all races and turn them into their own members, absorbing the nutrients of all races to strengthen themselves, thereby enslaving all races for a thousand years!

Why cant we have families? Because the Blood Saint Moonshadow has abandoned the bond of blood, so we are not allowed to have it! In this way, we cannot form a whole due to family, love, and kinship.

Why emphasize racial human rights and freedom? Because the Blood Saint Moonshadow is a monster without gender, race, or age, they are almost a natural whole, and yet we will quarrel due to race, gender, age, education and other reasons! They deliberately provoke different races, different genders, different ages, different people to fight each other! In this way, we cannot form a collective due to having common interests.

The Racial Human Rights Act erects high thick barriers around each of us, and the Bloodline Prohibition Law prevents us from any damage to this barrier. From then on, each of us is an independent individual, only able to face the research institute and the church, these two behemoths, alone!

Fernand Snow raised his left hand, which was pressed by the chains, and pointed at the prison.

Do we have any difference from those death row inmates? No. The ogre said coldly: Death row inmates are drained of value by the prison, and we are drained of value by the Blood Moon; death row inmates are controlled by chips, and we are controlled by ideology for life!

In the Blood Moon Realm, from birth to death, we only have two paths to follow: become a Blood Saint Moonshadow, or become the food for the Blood Saint Moonshadow.

Blood Moon is a beast wearing the cloak of civilization, it is the most barbaric civilization.

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