The Bald Monk in the City

? "Your teammate has entered the semi-final lottery process. Please select a teammate for the semi-final lottery to select a team to compete."

Yi Qiu looked at the prompt message on the retina, he didn't know these things very well.

When he once fell into Summoner's Canyon, he often engaged in fierce pecking in the Bronze Division.

There is not much interest in events like events.

But occasionally watching the game with his roommates, he also learned something.

It's just that these understandings still remain on the players, teams, and various simple or dazzling high-end operations, but I don't know much about the game process.

However, Yi Qiu was somewhat impressed by the draw.

Because he remembered that in a game of a certain year, a seemingly lucky draw dealt a heavy blow to the team his roommate loved.

It seemed to be a very distant memory. He had gradually forgotten the knowledge he had learned there, and he would no longer miss that trance.

But whenever I think of it, my heart still fluctuates slightly.

Not so intense, but with a more mellow taste.

Especially after Yi Qiu has experienced various complicated multiverse adventures, this mellow taste is even more memorable.

Perhaps it is not just youth, it is a game, it is a dazzling light in the lives of mortals.

Yi Qiu touched his bald head. What he had expected was the passing of the years, going upstream and returning to the time full of pure joy and depression.

But now, what he is chasing, is to jump over this beautiful river.

Like a swimming fish splashing up, with fins as wings, straight up to the sky...

"Are you going to try your luck, Isabella?"

Bequez looked at the drawing prompts refreshed on the retina, and he was not interested.

For an academic mage, he is not interested in the random results of chaos.

Perhaps the process that hides certain mysteries will make him feel more valuable.

However, he didn't think it would have any profound impact on the final result of the draw for the Canyon Tournament.

Because as the winning team, the final result should not be placed on a dice.

But sometimes, there are people who are keen on this kind of metaphysics...

"No, I think Yi has certain advantages in this regard."

To Bequez's surprise, Isabella did not accept or refuse, she directly proposed a new plan.

Bequez looked at Isabella, and responded to this unexpectedly.

Under his seemingly plain appearance, the consciousness that is constantly calculating some details of the game is divided into a source dedicated to thinking about this problem.

He doesn't think Isabella's unexpected reply is random, it must potentially contain some information he hasn't noticed or knew...

"Why does she feel that Yi Qiu has an advantage in this respect?"

"Wait, I think I understand..."

Bequez looked at Yi Qiu, his extraordinary wisdom and massive database allowed him to get the answer in the first place:

"Son of the plane, are you extraordinary lucky?"

Although there is no overly reliable data to support this judgment, Bequez believes that he deduced the results from deep in his consciousness.

The thinking displayed by the mage in this respect is still not divorced from its idealistic essence.

In a sense, this is the most essential difference between scholars and wizards of science fiction.

And not whether it uses magic particles or other energy.

"Luck is an unconventional basic attribute, and the results it can perform are also recognized by the Canyon Tournament."

"After all, this is a manifestation of ability..."

Emma looked at Yi Qiu, she was probably the one who knew Yi Qiu the most.

After all, they came out of the same plane, and they were in the same subtle camp innately.

Moreover, in terms of Yi Qiu's values ​​and world outlook, this delicate camp has a stronger effect before it is betrayed and conflicted.

"If you are not interested, I can try."

Yi Qiu nodded, he didn't take it seriously.

"I'm not interested. I hate these nihilistic things."

The **** female warrior curled her lips. As the heir to a tribe, she seemed to be naturally restrained in this respect.

So under the gaze of everyone, Yi Qiu stretched out his hand and moved the void dice that represented the beginning of the draw...

…………

…………

"Argenst, you have chosen a strong opponent for us!"

Orc Warrior-Broken Fang looked at the chief of his tribe, who was also his father: Argenst-Broken Fist said in a deep voice.

There are two types of lottery in the first stage of the Canyon Contest. One is the lottery conducted by your own team, and the other is that another team draws your own team.

In other words, in the first stage, a team needs to play at least two matches.

If you win completely, you will go straight to the final.

If you win one game and lose one game, you need to play the next round.

Generally speaking, there will not be situations where the two sides draw each other.

Unless the drawee has some corresponding extraordinary abilities, this special situation can occur.

It doesn't like its father, because it always tries to promote in the tribe the rotten system it picked up from weak humans.

"Strong or weak, it's just relative."

"If you think the other person is too strong, it's just because you are too weak, my son."

Argenst-Break Fist did not get angry, it quietly looked at its strong son and said calmly.

But when the opponent tried to continue muttering, it hit the opponent's abdomen with a punch!

"Enough, I tell you this not because of the power you have, but because you are my son."

"That's it!"

Argenst-Broken Fist looked at the broken teeth bending into a ball under its heavy fist. It felt that it needed to educate this reckless son a little bit...

Well, it belongs to the characteristic education mode of orcs...

"Argenst-Smash Fist, I read the other party's message."

"Although the opponent's winning streak is very dazzling, I found that the opponent has a fatal weakness."

"Their team composition has multiple legal professions, which may allow them to play a very strong burst."

"But this also determines their weakness in the middle and late stages. Maybe we can choose a more calm tactic."

"It seems ~www.readwn.com~The blessing of the ancestors still continues its ancient power..."

Beside Argenst-Smash Fist, an orc who looked very old said gloomily.

It is the shaman of the tribe, a special profession that is extremely sacred to the orcs, but full of evil and uncertainty in the eyes of other wise creatures.

Because the shaman is an ancestor worship and primitive worship type of divine art profession, it is very susceptible to interference from various chaotic and evil consciousness.

Therefore, although shamans have a lofty status in the orc tribe, they are often unable to serve as chiefs.

But sometimes, there are exceptions...

"A monk, a **** soldier..."

"I think I know how to do it. It seems that the consciousness of our ancestors shelters us..."

Argenst-Broken Fist looked at the information projected in its green pupils, and said with some delight...