I'm the one running the game

"I...where am I?" Cross opened his eyes, and a lot of memories that did not belong to him came to his mind.

On one side was an ordinary office worker from the Star Kingdom, and on the other side was an ordinary farmer under Baron Mora of the Kadra Empire.

"Is it also called Cross? I have come to a different world."

Cross looked surprised and uncertain. He had read similar anime and novels, but when it really happened to him, he couldn't accept it at all.

"I am dead in Star Country." He recalled that on his way to work, he was hit by a large truck that lost control and was turned into a pulp.

It is already very good to be able to live in a different place again.

But after he recalled the memories belonging to Farmer Cross, his brows furrowed.

This was a place constructed from the words feudal and decadent, which he had only come across in books.

Baron Mora's Chickadee Territory is where he has lived for generations. Farmer Cross's parents and grandparents are all farmers of the Mora family.

He lived in poverty all his life and then died at the age of thirty-four.

If it hadn't been for his arrival, Farmer Cross would have continued this reincarnation.

What's more important is that the information is extremely blocked and there is no circulation.

So he guessed that it should be an ancient world.

"I don't want to continue being a farmer," Cross said softly.

I can only eat beans every day. Fish and meat are not accessible to farmers at all. Salt is a little bit better, after all, people will have no strength if they don’t eat salt.

But there is no hope for such a day. Everything belongs to Baron Mora, including himself.

"Since we have traveled to the ancient world, we should do something big."

"After all, I have received compulsory education from the Star Kingdom. I am not comparable to this group of numb and ignorant people."

"Isn't he just a little baron?" Cross looked confident.

He knew that Titmouse Territory was actually not very big, only the size of a village at most, and its population was not large.

As long as he successfully kills Baron Mora and becomes the true ruler of the Titmoat Territory, unifying the entire world will not be a problem.

Although he is not a professional, he has watched a lot of short videos. Even if he does not know how to innovate independently, it is not difficult to imitate them.

Ordinary office workers are not ordinary.

There is a lot of knowledge stored in my mind.

"Cross, it's time to pay your food tax!" The tax official patted the door outside.

This made Cross's head hurt all of a sudden. He suddenly thought that it was because Farmer Cross had a bad harvest this year and could not pay the grain tax that he chose to commit suicide.

Otherwise, how could he have occupied this body so smoothly.

It's just that the Cross now is no longer the Cross before, and he opened the door without changing his expression.

The tax collector is a chubby middle-aged man. They are the people under Baron Mora. They can have enough food without working, which is a good job.

"No food." He said three words calmly.

The tax collector was stunned for a moment, and then became furious. He drew his whip and hit Cross on the body.

When the whip came down, Cross was knocked to the ground. Blood seeped out from the area where he was hit, staining his clothes red.

"You inferior farmer, everything you have is given to you by the baron, how dare you default on the grain tax." The tax collector said, raised the whip again, and slapped Cross dozens more times.

He didn't stop until he was out of breath.

Cross, on the other hand, was covered in bruises and even one of his eyes was blinded by the whip. He could only lie on the ground and kept wailing.

Although the tax collector's whip is neither a magic weapon nor a treasure, it is still a specially made whip. Every blow of the whip can cause serious injuries to him.

"Tomorrow, I will come to you again. If you still can't pay the grain tax, I will beat you to death." The tax official wiped the blood on his whip and left directly after saying that.

He doesn't care where Cross goes to find grain to pay the grain tax, he only cares about whether there is enough grain.

If the food is not enough to meet the standard food tax for the Cross family, Cross will really be beaten to death.

This is the Titmouse Territory, and the laws set by Baron Mora are the rules.

Cross struggled to get up and returned to the wooden bed, but as soon as he lay down, the wound started to hurt.

"No, I have to find a way to disinfect and obtain antibiotics, otherwise I will definitely not survive such a serious injury." Cross was very rational.

Due to the whipping, most of his face was broken, and his linen clothes were also torn, exposing serious wounds under the skin.

If you don't get timely treatment, you will die.

Of course, the treatments he is talking about are not the two unique treatments of this era, but modern scientific treatments.

"But, where should I find it..." Cross lay on the bed, enduring the pain, looking at the roof with one eye.

There is no money to buy herbal medicine or see a doctor.

He would be able to extract it himself, but the problem is that there is not enough time and the environment is not enough.

The tax collector will come to your door again tomorrow, and I won’t have time at all.

"Escape?" He suddenly thought that if he escaped from the tit collar, he might still survive.

Just when he was thinking about taking action, the door opened with a creak, and he saw a little man getting in. When he saw Cross lying on the bed, the other person couldn't help but show a sly smile.

Cross knew the other person, he was his neighbor, a gangster.

The other party's sudden arrival gave Cross a bad feeling.

"Hey, Cross, you're not dead yet." The other party came closer, his tone full of malice.

"Anyway, you can't pay the grain tax tomorrow, and you will be beaten to death by the tax officer."

"Otherwise, I'll help you so that you don't have to suffer tomorrow."

At this moment, Cross wanted to fight back, but because of his serious injuries and weakness, he couldn't pose a threat at all.

Instead, he was hit hard by the other party's knife. The knife was a little crooked and didn't penetrate his heart, but stabbed his lungs instead.

"In return, tell me where you hid the money." The other party twisted the knife.

The severe pain broke out again.

"Huh..." Cross spit blood foam from his mouth. He never thought that the other party would kill him for money.

Cross was just a farmer. There were not many copper coins in his home. There were less than ten in total.

Unfortunately, Cross couldn't say anything, because the other party drew out a knife and stabbed Cross's neck directly.

At this moment, blood gushed out directly.

"You should have said it directly, but it doesn't matter. Your house is so small, it's not difficult to find it." The other party laughed and didn't care about it at all.

Cross's death came soon, and he only felt that his soul began to be pulled out of his body.

The feeling of emptiness filled his soul, but he stayed where he was, watching the rogue neighbor looting his house.

It was just less than two minutes before a kind of terrifying squeezing feeling broke out, and the feeling of emptiness turned into a sense of compression.

He even felt that his soul had cracks because of being squeezed, and his consciousness was dissipating little by little as the cracks expanded.

Cross fought against this sense of compression frantically, but it didn't work.

As he was compressed, he suddenly realized that it seemed to be this world that was squeezing him.

'My soul doesn't belong to this world, so I am rejected. ’

Such a guess emerged in his mind, but he no longer had the opportunity to verify it, let alone solve it.

With a gentle sound of bubble bursting, Cross's soul was completely squeezed into pieces, and finally slowly degraded and swallowed by the world.

During this period, no one found that Cross, the farmer in the Tit Territory, was once a traverser. His death was so simple.

…

"President, the signal disappeared."

In the black hole shelter, the researchers' smiles did not last long before they froze.

Cross's death naturally led to the direct interruption of their project.

The president of the Star Alliance also looked unhappy: "Let another reserve continue to travel through time and find the best survival point."

In fact, he knew that the sons of the stars who left the black hole shelter would be targeted by the world, but he did not expect that this targeting would be so fast. It was not long before and after, and the person died, and even the soul disappeared.

"Yes, President!" After the researcher finished speaking, he immediately began to screen personnel.

"By the way, choose a psychic. They have psychic power in their souls, so they may be able to survive longer." The president suddenly said.

Once the gene enhancers and mechanical modifiers are separated from their own bodies, their own power will be the same as if they have nothing.

On the contrary, as the source core of the psychic developer, it is their own soul, so as a soul-traveling traverser, there are certain advantages.

"But the soul of the psychic is too large, and the shuttle data applicable to ordinary people cannot be fully applied to psychics."

"Even if it succeeds, it will cause some loss of soul." The researcher pointed out the disadvantages.

"There must be a first case." The president doesn't care about these. Sacrifice is necessary, as long as it is not himself who is sacrificed.

There are not many psychic developers in the Star Alliance, but it does not mean that they cannot be sacrificed.

Because this is the intention of the president of the alliance, the researchers can only execute it.

Compared with the traversers who were specially cultivated before, if you want to find psychic developers as experimental subjects, you can only choose those psychics who have been cultivated and loyal to the alliance since childhood.

Wild psychics are definitely unwilling.

The Alliance controls all extraordinary individuals and complete interstellar technology. The extraordinary people who have been trained since childhood have been baptized by technology and become loyal warriors. Even if they are asked to commit suicide, they will not hesitate at all.

"Issue a notice to round up all wild psychics and implant loyalty programs." The president said coldly.

Psychics are extraordinary from the soul, so there will be wild ones.

The two pathways of gene and machinery require sufficient technological support and transformation, so they have not been leaked and have always been strictly controlled by the Alliance.