Chapter 1

Remember [EbookFREE.me] for one second, update fast, no pop-up window, free to read!
Taryn Odin is an assassin.
Perhaps the most famous and deadly assassin master on the continent of Albion for thousands of years.
Before his death, he came from a hidden ancient family, the blood of ancient elves and succubus. The Odin family has been closely related to the Assassin's career. As a long-time son of this generation, Tyrone has shown an extremely eye-catching talent from a young age, and was highly trained by the world's largest assassin organization, the bluebell.
It took him only twenty years to become the biggest card for the bluebell.
As an assassin master, he is familiar with all powers and nobles. People are afraid to study his resume and his specialties, and then discover that he is a rare mixed-race descendant, world-famous assassin, awesome and desperate.
He is like the flaming lord in the abyss. Everyone knows that he is guarding the bluebells there. He also knows that as long as he is removed, he can further eradicate the assassin organization, but no one dares to step forward to spy on his specific position.
The Assassin Master is a half-elf, with six senses and a strong sense of combat. As a succubus, he is good at camouflage and hypnosis. There is no place in the world where he wants to go; he is deadly. Mystery, legend, once you see his face, you will die for him, or die in his hands, or willingly lead the neck.
Tyrone Odin is a non-believers, so after his death, his soul wandered in the wilderness and was robbed by countless gods from various kingdoms.
He does not want to be the "immortal of immortality" (the name of the undead), and is even more reluctant to become a voter of any god, so he made a contract with the of killing.
He worked for the of killing for six hundred years in exchange for the freedom of the soul. He will not enter the mortal reincarnation, nor will he enter any godland of the gods, but will go to any time and space that may give birth, and get a new life there.
During these six hundred years, he used to be a nameless generation, watching the changes of the world and the rise and fall of the dynasty. For this reason, he proudly laughed at the princes and slandered the mortal beings; he also acted as a blazing angel to achieve the will of the gods. Falling into the mortal world, swaying in the vast expanse of land, holding a double-edged sword to kill the princes, and smashed the army group, so that he was as hard as iron, to see the boundaries between inertia and death, The gully of blood and fire.
The sense of passage of time is blurred during this period.
Tyrone Odin was once again awakened from the slumber, this time he could not feel the will of the of killing, but he heard the familiar, inorganic icy sound:
"The mission begins. Kill all the players in the field, get the qualification for the rematch and hide the points. The contestant No. 419, your current kill number is: 0."
After listening to this short sentence, Tyron slowly opened his eyes.
He saw himself in the environment of the ancient Colosseum. The central part is a ring-shaped huge fire pit, and four stone bridges cross the fire pit to the circular table suspended in the middle. He and the rest of the 99 people stood around the fire pit, everyone wearing a mask with a digital code on their heads - I think Tyrone himself.
The audience outside the stadium was shouting, screaming, whistling, and the explosion of fireworks on the sky.
At the beginning of this, several people around Tyrone have begun to kill each other.
Tyron indifferently avoided the sneak attack of his opponents and quickly checked all the weapons hidden in his tactical belt: a pair of daggers, twenty flying knives, two poison sacs, and a wire.
Tyrone pulled out the dagger and held it in both hands. The venomous snake, like a scorpion, generally lowered his body and raised his eyes.
The of killing began his game again, or perhaps a new way of sacrifice, he thought.
But what does this mean? Just rely on these people, want to compare with him, kill people?
......
It is known as the "E-sports League" Chaoyang League A-level Golden League, the 1170th is in progress, this is the last fight before the rematch.
The whole game was carried out in the virtual world, so the audience also had the costumes, the laser sword, the young dragon called the son, all kinds of modalities, and so on.
The commentary is screaming passionately: "Our players have now become a mess! Well, we have seen the first cooperative team on the northern bridge of the venue, a total of 17 people, they are killing Single! Oh, are they going to dominate this game? Can they do that?"
The audience was quarreling and snoring. Everyone is staring at the venue or the live screen, and can't see so many sporadic battles.
Sixteen split screens are constantly tracking and switching each player. The assistant of the 9th split screen is reminded by the behind-the-scenes: "Don't just stare at the 419!"
The split screen assistant apologized again and again, but after cutting the screen, in less than two minutes, he again involuntarily stuck on the 419 player.
No. 419, Tyrone, is harvesting a battle group in the melee.
He does not appear positively, only swimming at the edge. But he is like a black shadow, understatement and invincible to plunder the lives of the singles and the dead; the players who are being fiercely killed have not paid attention to him, and this unattended character makes people feel creepy.
He is as unscrupulous as a of death, but no one can see the of death. The players are like ignorance in the dark giant network. There is no trace to find and nowhere to hide.

Why hasn't anyone found him yet?

The split-screen assistant put down the controller intently and whispered to himself.
Behind her, the guide that wanted to get angry followed and looked up, and the hand was placed on her shoulder and she forgot to take it.
Because at this moment, Tyrone is gently putting the dagger into the enemy's abdomen, and then turning around in front of him, it is elegantly swung to escape the splash of blood.
Under the mask, his dark golden eyes flickered in front of the camera.
Unbeatable and deadly, it is unbeatable.
Bystanders simply cannot judge whether their violent heartbeat is due to extreme fear or because they are extremely stunning.
"..."
The assistant and the guide looked up and looked at each other and opened their mouths.
The battle group was harvested until only a few people were still catching and killing. Someone seemed to have finally found something, and the cold hair looked straight and looked around.
However, Tyrone has left here and rushed to another battlefield.
He flew in the flames of war, more flexible than the swift swallows in the rainstorm, and more elegant than the fish swimming in the spring water; occasionally a strolling like a walk, easy to draw a beautiful blood color with a dagger The arc, the end of an enemy's life, the cruel picture is beautiful and unbelievable.
The 9th split screen has been firmly fixed on him.
The assistant's eyes were not willing to squat, and stretched out a hand and touched the volcano for a long while, his fingers dipped into the hot coffee, but did not notice, and continued to touch a bag of potato chips.
She looked up at the screen and ate two chips, and handed it to the next guide.
The guide also looked at the screen, instinctively touched for a long time to find a piece of stuff into his mouth, completely forget what he was doing.
Suddenly, the assistant muttered: "Why didn't anyone find him?"
The guide was also a slap in the face, shaking his head like a wooden chicken.
Suddenly, a mage flying in midair discovered the figure of Tyrone.
He cautiously raised the height, then sang the spell and sneaked behind Tyrone with the overwhelming magic missile.
However, Tyrone did not return, and his body shape was low, and suddenly disappeared from the ground.
The camera followed him in the air and swiftly swept. Tyron was like a sharp arrow. In the moment when everyone couldn’t respond, he climbed to the sky and attacked the Master.
A spell flashed through, and the shield on the mage played a role.
But also at this moment, the dagger in the hands of Tyron seems to be turned into two beautiful dragons. Around this magical power of the spell, a rapid and incomparable offensive broke out.
After a series of slamming steel knocks, the spell shield broke!
The mage has sung the eviction curse, and a resistance wave has almost been bounced to Tyrone.
At this moment, Tyrone took the lead in a whip leg, and the unprotected mage flew from the air, accompanied by a loud noise on the translucent barrier of the battlefield.
The mage's lifeline was suddenly reduced, and he was dragged down from the barrier with fear, and he gasped and looked down, but did not see the figure of Tyrone.
Suddenly, the Master felt a terrible cold, freezing his blood from the top of his head until every nerve ending was shaking.
He looked up instinctively, just to see a little cold-like light falling from the top down to his eyebrows, it was Tyren's sharp blade to pronounce his death.
After two seconds.
Tyrone's lightweight rollover offsets the impact of landing, and disappears again in the smoke.
At this point, the body of the mage landed in midair and turned into a white light disappearing.
In front of the screen, the guide suddenly took a breath, and then I found out that I had just instinctively held my breath, and I almost couldn’t breathe.
He moved his stiff neck, and suddenly he heard the sound of gasping around him, and then he remembered the scene just now.
The entire studio was quiet, and even the entire auditorium was quiet, and no one was panting.
Until now, there have been a lot of exclamations.
In order to confirm the situation of the whole game, he looked up to see the big screen. This time he almost fainted in the past: I saw a total of 16 live broadcast screens, and even nine of them were firmly stuck on the No. 419 player!
Among them, there are both the panoramic view of the 419 players, and the close-up shots of the specials, and even the long legs of the tights that are exposed when he flies.
The heart of the guide: My poor rice bowl, can you still see the sun of tomorrow?