diymy Chapter 50 Remote Control
Chapter 50 Remote Control
Chapter 50 Remote Control
With Nan'an's explosive power, he instantly casts a spell, starting with [Elemental Drive - Wind], closing the distance and delivering a "headshot" with ease.
"His fate is unknown, which means he's dead." It's one thing to use such a joke, but giving up without even trying is something Nan'an can't do.
Through the summoning ritual, he instructed Suiyue: "I will try to subdue the spider. After you succeed, tear off one of its octopus tentacles. Remember, the tentacle should have red and green bumps."
Suiyue nodded gently.
The sound of the wind was compressed into a sharp, short whistle, and was instantly left behind by Nan'an.
The television screen instantly awoke, the chaotic images on the screen flickered more violently, several tentacles draped over the edge of the altar tensed, and the spherical monitor lenses at the joints lit up red, switching to active mode.
But it was too late.
In the blink of an eye, Nan'an arrived directly behind it, almost brushing past the tail of the power cord that was constantly sputtering sparks.
Four pale blue streaks of light precisely swept across the four metal spider legs supporting the television screen's demonic form.
The weak point connecting the spider legs to the main body snapped, and the spider legs were blasted away by the elemental airflow released by Nan'an.
The massive body of the television set suddenly tilted and fell forward.
Without the slightest hesitation, the instant the invisible wind blade left his hand, Nan'an leaped into the air, gathering the remaining wind elemental power, and slammed it down on the head of the television god and demon.
He didn't dare to kill it, but instead continuously stirred up a gust of wind to press it down onto the altar.
A dull thud was accompanied by the groaning of twisting metal.
The television screen suddenly jolted, and the absurd scene on the screen transformed into densely jumping black and white snowflake patterns, while a piercing "sizzle" of white noise erupted from the speakers.
The sound is something I can only hear and see when I stayed up all night in my hometown in Nan'an as a child.
Suiyue, who had been poised to attack, charged forward like a bull and grabbed a limp tentacle that was hanging limply on the ground.
Once she was certain that she had the red and green keys that Nan'an needed, she let out a low growl and unleashed her full power.
"Break————"
The powerful shout only managed to utter the first syllable before Suiyue fell backward.
The tentacles of the TV demon were much weaker than when it was struck by Nan'an before. It seemed that after falling into a dazed state, it was no longer able to muster the power to maintain the strength of its body.
A pool of blood gushed out from where the tentacle had broken off.
The blue sparks of electricity burst forth, the dark red viscous substance gushed out, and several translucent cables, shimmering with a faint light, resembling nerves or fascia, were clearly visible.
The television demon, pinned to the ground, frantically pounded its remaining tentacles against the earth, making loud "slap slap" sounds.
Nan'an was shocked to realize that this creature could feel pain, but it was more tolerant than ordinary living beings.
Suddenly, all the gaps on the main body of the television set lit up with dazzling blue-white electric light.
A thick, bluish-purple electric current shot out from the broken power cord, and the violent current instantly spread throughout Nan'an.
Nan'an, who was immune to the power of gods and demons, enjoyed magical damage for the first time in a long time.
The nature of the summoned creature didn't cause him too much pain; he only felt a slight numbness all over his body, and his vision was filled with bright light.
In that split second, the spherical monitor lenses at the joint of the television set all started to rotate simultaneously.
The screen, which was filled with static, flickered violently.
Nan'an caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, and the static on the screen quickly disappeared.
Suiyue's face, slightly flushed from exertion and bearing a look of astonishment, filled the entire frame.
The exact same signs as when niral was absorbed.
The highly saturated colors, combined with close-up shots, make her look like a star on stage under the spotlight.
Hmm—I have to say, the short-haired tomboy is quite good-looking. Even with a close-up shot magnifying his face, the details of his facial contours don't hold him back. His well-defined features have always been a plus for Suiyue.
Of course, the detailed outline of the body in the distance is an added bonus. It's hard not to wonder how Suiyue, who only eats staple food and rarely eats meat, has such a rich fat reserve and has it all gone to the right place.
Furthermore, Nan'an doesn't quite understand —
The sudden, erratic camera movements on the TV screen—was it a malfunction, a product of training at an Indian film studio, or a clumsy imitation of a large orange cat climbing a long ladder?
The scene of being absorbed, as expected, did not appear.
The image of Suiyue on the screen flickered violently, and the signal seemed to be severely interfered with and could not be stabilized.
Faintly, one could hear a series of unintelligible, error-prompting "beep" sounds coming from the speaker.
The television seemed to freeze, the screen stuttering.
Once his vision returned to normal, Nan'an gripped the edge of the television casing tightly with both hands again and slammed it hard against the ground.
"Get down on your knees!"
The television set, with its tentacles serving as supporting legs, emitted a mournful wail from its speakers.
Unable to withstand the power of Nan'an, the tendrils snapped with a "crack," spilling a foul-smelling liquid that looked like a mixture of engine oil and blood.
The altar's hard ground trembled slightly, and the television set tilted precariously under the weight, like a person who had lost consciousness and was drooping their head.
After a period of intense flickering, the image on the screen froze completely into a static display.
After confirming that the television was out of order, Nan An took a deep breath, returned to Sui Yue's side, and took the sticky tentacle.
"Hey, old man, do you like tentacles?" Suiyue couldn't stand watching Nan'an intently exploring the protrusions on the tentacles. "What are you trying to do?"
"An intuition, not necessarily accurate, but worth a try."
His finger stopped on a slightly larger protrusion, hesitated, and then pressed down hard.
The snowflake pattern disappears, and the scene changes.
The screen displays a dimly lit, dusty library scene.
Those familiar extras were repeatedly taking books off the bookshelf, dusting off non-existent dust, and putting them back exactly as they were.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized, like puppets with a pre-programmed sequence.
Nan An raised an eyebrow and continued pressing the remote control. As the scene switched again, familiar extras rushed into the new scene for cameo appearances. He was already somewhat confident.
Suiyue was dumbfounded.
"Old man, what have you done?"
"Change the channel," Nan An said, starting to switch programs. "It's hard to explain in a short time, but anyway, this remote control—the buttons on this tentacle—can control the images on the screen."
The silly cow was utterly shocked. She looked down at the tentacles and then glanced at Nan'an.
"How do you know—it's possible to do that?"
"That's why I said it's hard to explain in a short time."
Nan'an discovered that the remote control could only switch to a limited number of channels, only a dozen or so.
That's not right. Just during their stealth, they witnessed dozens of flashbacks.
Nan'an also experimented with other key layouts, including volume keys and number keys.
Numeric key combinations also fail to overcome the limitation, instead resulting in a static screen.
The number of buttons on the tentacles is limited, and their functions seem to be limited to that as well.
Nan'an glanced at the battle destruction and the other tentacles that had been smashed into mincemeat, and couldn't help but click his tongue.
The tentacles of the TV set are designed with a specific purpose: each tentacle corresponds to a set of channels. Once destroyed, unless the set repairs itself, it is impossible to bypass the channel restrictions using the buttons on other tentacles.
In normal combat, how could the Mistbreaker possibly stun a god or demon without damaging its tentacles?
Suiyue's mind suddenly cleared up. She stared blankly at the rotten tentacles on the ground, her voice trembling.
"Then... Nilar is beyond saving?"
Nan'an did not answer immediately.
He walked over to the television set lying on the ground, squatted down, and carefully scanned its "big butt" casing covered with scratches and scorch marks.
He reached out and ran his fingertips along the side and bottom of the television.
Most old-fashioned televisions do not have external adjustment buttons; volume, channel fine-tuning, brightness, and contrast are all products of the LCD era.
But the one before him was a god or demon, a product of the twisted black mist. Nan'an decided to set aside his narrow-minded attempts and boldly use unconventional reasoning to speculate.
His fingertips felt a tiny bump on the lower right side of the television, in a location resembling a ventilation grille.
With almost no hope, he held his breath, slowly ran his fingers over the several protrusions, and then gently pressed down on the first one.
The sound from the television became much louder.
Nan'an was overjoyed and tried and failed along the way until the fourth protrusion appeared, at which point the locked image on the screen broke free from its original limitations.
It's like using a satellite dish to jailbreak and get more channels.
The image on the screen stabilized.
The living room of the luxurious yet lifeless aristocratic manor was filled with dusty crystal chandeliers, gloomy carpets, and a cold fireplace.
In the center of the living room, Nilar still stood there, his posture upright, staring blankly ahead, like a ceramic doll carefully placed in a display case.
His father stood opposite him as before, a loving smile on his face.
"Found it."
Suiyue leaned closer, looking at the scene on the screen, and asked the existential question: "Then—how are we going to rescue him? He...he seems to be inside the painting...are we going to have to crawl into this frame?"
Looking at Nilar, whose eyes were glazed over on the other side of the screen, Nan'an turned around and stared intently at Suiyue.
"Good idea."
After saying that, he reached his hand directly towards the screen.
"Zzzzzzz!!!!"
As the fingertip touched the screen, a tingling electric current surged throughout Nan'an, and the TV demon awoke from its coma, its enormous "head" swaying from side to side and struggling violently.
The once stable manor scene on the screen now resembles a turbulent body of water, with large patches of color spreading out.
The screen flickered wildly, as if trying to force a switch to another channel to get rid of this unexpected intrusion.
Nan'an's hand did not retract despite the electric current.
Under intense interference, his palm slowly sank into the screen that flickered with chaotic light and shadow.
Nilar, who had been standing motionless like a puppet on the screen, trembled slightly.
His gaze slowly shifted from his father's face to the manor gate—a hand, almost the size of an iron gate, was groping and patting the ground.
At the base of the palm, unstable cracks rippled.
Its appearance caused the whole world to flicker rapidly, and the severe color distortion and ghosting made Nilar feel dizzy and lightheaded.
In the reflection that resembled the surface of a lake, he vaguely saw two familiar yet anxious faces.
"Nilar!"
The dazed feeling of being enveloped in a warm illusion receded swiftly like a tide under Nan'an's roar.
Real memories, the scenes before I was inhaled, filled my mind.
Nilar's eyes widened suddenly, and almost instinctively, he wanted to turn around and pull his father to his side.
However, when he looked back, his "father," who had just been standing in front of him, had vanished without a trace.
"Nilar, hurry up!"
The excellent qualities that Elu had cultivated through years of training came into play at this moment.
After a brief moment of shock and disappointment, a clearer decision was made: clinging to illusions would only lead to further despair and hinder the companions who were risking their lives to rescue them.
"Father, I'm sorry!"
Nilar sped along, then leaped into the air, his body seemingly passing through a layer of cold, viscous water. The scene before him spun around him, and the surrounding objects receded rapidly like a faded oil painting.
The cold, hard texture of the church altar floor and the acrid smell of burnt dust in the air were the first things to hit my nose.
"Bang!"
Nilar fell heavily to Nan'an's feet with a muffled groan.
Before he could speak, Suiyue immediately pulled out the Wind Velvet Crystal and roughly shoved it into his mouth: "Don't spit it out, it's the basic procedure."
A loud bang came from beside their ears.
As Nilar returned to reality, Nan'an slammed his fist into the television screen without hesitation. He then spread his arms and hugged the metal shell of the god and demon, transforming into a tornado that spiraled into the sky. With the standard starting position of a volleyball player's spike, he threw the television, which had been dismantled down to its "head," at the statue not far away.
"Does this count as a headhunting?" Nilar asked vaguely.
The Windgrass Crystal showed no reaction, and combined with Nilar's sharp comments on Nan'an's actions, Suiyue smiled with relief.
"snort!"
The angry snort once again drew their attention, but in the blink of an eye, the television set that Nan'an had smashed had vanished without a trace.
The two experienced men were on high alert, guarding their surroundings, but Nan'an stopped them.
"Teleported away, the same old trick." He clicked his tongue. "The screen switches to the GG scene, the witch opens the door, and a portal appears behind her."
"Durable" is how Nan'an describes this broken television.
Despite suffering two severe blows, it still managed to escape.
"Senior—" Nilar knelt on one knee before Nan'an, "Without you, I would—"
Nan'an waved his hand dismissively: "We are all E'lu, and you gave us Black-maned Wild Boar before. Suiyue, me, and Cat Meat all really like it. We're obligated to help you since we've eaten your food."
Even so, when Suiyue looked at Nan'an, her eyes were already full of stars.
She didn't understand, but she was deeply shocked.
Every step was completely beyond her expectations, as if the veteran had a thorough understanding of the basic information about gods and demons.
Still shaken, Nilar couldn't help but ask, "Senior, what should we do now?"
Nan'an thought for a moment and said, "Your equipment has already been sold by me, so it's not advisable to continue exploring. Let's go back the way we came."