Luke was very disdainful of this pretentious Fraternity legend.
It was nothing more than a trick to make themselves look good. How could they claim to be in control of destiny?
Liu Bei only said that he was the descendant of King Jing of Zhongshan, Liu Sheng, and that his lineage could be traced back more than three hundred years.
The Fraternity had actually added at least eight hundred years to their history. That was too much of a boast.
It was also for this reason that Luke looked down on the Fraternity.
Because these hitmen couldn't even do something as simple as boasting that their ancestors were once rich.
Coupled with the fact that they had used precious medicinal baths as raw materials to treat hitmen, Luke's only evaluation of the Fraternity was that they were terrifyingly uncultured.
Look at Tony Stark; he was living a carefree and comfortable life.
In fact, the number of people who had died to Stark Industries' firearms was countless times more than the total number of targets the Fraternity had targeted in the past two hundred years.
But Stark Industries was an influential family in America, while the Fraternity was a dark organization in the underworld.
The point was that the Fraternity had been around for more than two hundred years. They had been in the hitman business for two centuries, but they were still a hitman organization that couldn't see the light of day. That was stupid.
That magical medicinal bath alone was enough to turn the Fraternity into an influential force.
In ancient times, it could easily become a distinguished guest of the king, and in modern times, it could also become an influential medical company, but it had been around for two hundred years.
Everyone had their own ambitions.
If a normal person had to choose, how many people would want to be Sloan instead of Tony Stark?
It could only be said that there was no cure for a moron.
Now, Luke was here.
He felt that it was better not to keep such a moron around. It was best to send it to accompany their "destiny" as soon as possible.
But first of all, he had to see what this so-called "destiny" was all about.
With that in mind, he walked to the loom and commanded, "Get in."
Click, click, click. The Loom of Destiny was still working diligently.
System: Please touch the item with your body in order to collect it.
Luke's heart skipped a beat. Damn, there's hope!
It was rare for Daddy System to give him a hint, which meant that this loom wasn't ordinary.
With that in mind, he placed his hand on the loom.
The clicking sound of weaving suddenly disappeared, and the room abruptly fell silent.
Luke's eyes widened, and he didn't even have time to curse inwardly.
System: Causal Magic Tool detected. It can be converted into 500000 points, or used to modify the System Panel. Conversion/modification?
This time, a certain someone was really shocked.
Five hundred thousand points? The collection of evil thoughts was only worth 20,000 points, and the remains of Odin's Destroyer were only worth 50,000 points …
Alright, after all, that was just a small piece in a large pile of wreckage. The complete Destroyer should be no less than 500,000 points.
However, although the complete Destroyer was lifeless, it was protected by the runes that Odin had left behind, and the storage space could not forcibly take it.
The Loom of Destiny in front of him was easily taken by him.
What was even more eye-catching was the "cause-and-effect magic item" in the notification. There was actually such a thing in this world?
…
Just as a certain fellow who had been shoplifting was shocked, an angry roar rang out from the Hell Dimension, "Who is it? Who destroyed my altar? "
If Luke could see the roarer or hear the voice, his heart would definitely pound.
Boundless black fog burst out of Mephisto's body and surged wildly in all directions.
Countless evil spirits wailed as they were engulfed by the black mist, disappearing without a trace.
Normally, Mephisto's heart would definitely ache.
These were toys that he had collected for many years. Now that a large number of them had died, he would have much less fun in the future.
But he couldn't care less about that now.
To describe his current state in one sentence, it would be: incompetent rage.
If Mephisto's thoughts turned into a bullet screen, it would probably be vulgar words like "F * ck you" and "F * ck you."
A few months ago, his clone had been defeated by that strange Big Dipper, and had no choice but to flee back to Hell.
But his clone hadn't been able to truly escape, and could only watch helplessly as it was destroyed in front of him.
What was even more terrifying was that Big Dipper had launched an extremely strange attack, which actually traced back from the clone to Mephisto's soul and dealt him a vicious blow.
Even now, the dark gold energy was still lingering in his body.
Mephisto had used all sorts of methods, but he couldn't deal with this strange energy. Instead, his injuries had worsened by more than 10%, which made him go crazy with anger.
He wasn't a Demon Lord who couldn't afford to lose, but this time, it was too baffling.
Furthermore, he realized that he could no longer send his clone to Earth.
As long as his clone tried to enter Earth, that strange energy would instantly send his clone to the afterlife.
Mephisto was an ancient, cultured, and knowledgeable Demon.
He quickly understood the special property of this strange energy — Soul Binding.
It directly affected his soul.
His soul was strong, and he was in his own Dimensional Hell, so he could withstand this kind of damage to his soul.
But his clone's soul wasn't strong enough, and his strength would plummet after going to Earth. Of course, he would be instantly killed by the strange energy.
To Mephisto, a soul wasn't a cream cake that couldn't be easily divided. Every clone was very precious.
After testing it twice and successfully worsening his injuries, he gave up on the idea of going to Earth to find trouble with that Big Dipper.
But these two experiments had increased the strange energy by more than 10%.
It could actually obtain some kind of replenishment from the destruction of the clone, further strengthening itself, and then increasing the damage to Mephisto's main body.
This made Mephistos curse him for several days, the hellish version of a "pervert".
However, there were still results from the tests.
He could feel that the strange energy was ultimately water without a source, a tree without roots.
As long as he didn't continue to court death by sending it clones to "eat," it would slowly dissipate a little every day.
In at most ten years, it would completely disappear.
What could Mephisto do? He was also very desperate.
Now, he could only stay in Hell obediently and wait for his devil body to recover.
Anyway, for an ancient Demon like him, ten years was nothing. It was just the time for humans to take a nap.
But he didn't expect that just as he started to take a nap and closed his eyes, something happened again.
The special altar he placed on Earth to collect high-quality souls suddenly disappeared from his senses.
That feeling was as if someone had suddenly taken one of his kidneys.
Not only that, the disappearance of this "kidney" was very strange.
If the destruction of the special altar was compared to an ordinary person being stabbed in the waist, then the more thoroughly the altar was destroyed, the more agitated the person who stabbed it was, and the more obvious the pain would be.
But what was that feeling just now?
Mephisto only felt that someone had suddenly used some method to directly remove his waist.
He didn't even have time to feel any pain. He just felt that the place in his soul that belonged to the special altar was suddenly empty, empty, empty.
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