They all call me the Outer God

He took out a note and put it in front of him, asking everyone in the kitchen of the Wright Hotel to be careful of the flower pots falling from the sky. ♦♦  ඏ☆

[I hate the chef]

[How could they do this]

[When my throat is healed, I will risk my life to make all of them unemployed]

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[I'm serious]

[How could they do this]

[I'm so angry]

Along the way, Style walked and stopped, angrily writing what he wanted to express on the paper. A piece of paper was soon filled with his writing, and there was no place to write.

Riya asked Little Swar to spit out the blank book and complain through Style.

It came out reluctantly and almost broke the prophet's arm with its tentacles. The next second, it called "Gu" and "Gu" twice, and handed the blank notebook to Riya, revealing a bit of deliberate grievance in its voice.

Style took the three pieces of paper that Riya had torn off the book and continued writing on them.

[Why is your black ball so fierce? ]

"It was not born normally, so it's normal for it to be a little brutal."

Riya still remembered that when she was in her own town of Wins, the extraordinary creatures she encountered were all a collection of various pieces of corpses.

Their bodies were composed not only of stray cats and dogs, chickens, ducks and geese that died of disease, sheep that were bitten to death, pigs that had caught the flu and were thrown outside, but also people who died on the streets.

For some reason, they formed a self-conscious gathering, and Little Shival was a collection of the entire group of extraordinary creatures. Its birth meant disaster. If it weren't for Riya's restraint, it would probably have set off a bloody storm in the entire Wins town soon.

Of course, if it weren't for Riya, it wouldn't have had a chance to be born.

But now the mythical creatures can only bite people in a rage and impotence. If they don't bite people, they will just smile foolishly every day, completely losing the majesty they had when they first met.

Riya also pondered for a long time what kind of creature Little Shival was. He tried to recall the huge image of Little Shival at that time, but found that his memory became vague and he could not remember its specific appearance at that time.

However, the panic and oppression it brought at that time were deeply rooted in people's hearts.

"You are really a mysterious existence." Riya poked its head, and his fingers completely immersed in its feathers. The mythical creature tilted its head and looked down at Riya with harmless eyes.

The next second, it saw Style again, and screamed immediately, and its feathers almost exploded into a hedgehog.

[Well, maybe it just doesn't like outsiders]

"No, it said it doesn't like prophets."

[How do you know what it is talking about? ]

"Guess."

Since being struck by lightning, Little Shival has been wary of prophets. Not only that, it will always stare at the sky to prevent lightning from striking it again.

In desperation, Riya could only let Little Shival return to his body.

He and Style came to the Baisher Tavern again. Unlike last time, there were more people inside this time, and the business seemed to be more prosperous.

It's just that the bartender has never understood why so much wine in the wine cabinet behind him is missing inexplicably, and there are only a few bottles of wine that are usually hard to sell.

And just at this critical moment, the pub's business began to become hot again.

Their staff has reported the theft to the church. Several clergymen came to check the situation, and the brass band picked up their instruments again and started playing.

After this happened, the manager could only rush to the underground wine cellar to get new wine, but found that there were also signs of looting here. Fortunately, the thief had a conscience and did not destroy the barrels or smash the bottles.

→

"What is going on!"

Under the urging of another wave of guests, the bartender explained to them that the new wine would be delivered soon and asked them to wait for a while. The clergymen couldn't find the suspect behind the scenes for a while, and they also sat at the bar and ordered a few glasses of wine.

Harik was even busier now, wishing he had six more hands to help mix drinks. His arms were shaking so fast that they could almost leave afterimages. The drinks were also flashing beautiful bubbles as they turned over and over.

Harik worked so hard that the customers cheered. They continued to order and shouted along with the brass band, not caring whether their voices were in tune.

Men and women shook their hands and shook their heads with the band.

Just then, Ria and Style arrived at the tavern. Seeing Harik so busy, Style felt a little guilty and quickly took Ria to the corner.

[Did I drink a little too much before? ]

"Are you sure it was a little?"

Ria crossed his arms. He could have laughed at Style. Although they had stolen the wine when no one was in the tavern, Ria had put money in.

He was a black businessman, not a thief, so of course he would not do such an immoral thing.

Of course, what he did wasn't much better...

Style felt more and more guilty.

He decided to order a few drinks to increase Harik's sales and make up for his guilt.

[Hey, Harik! ]

Style walked towards the bar with the note. Harik raised his head reflexively, and the dark circles under his eyes were too dark to be ignored. Even so, his hands did not stop.

"Just think of it as for our own good. Alcohol is harmful to the human body. Drink less. I feel like I have arthritis now-

Damn it, why can that guy Joe take sick leave today, and why is it today? I now seriously suspect that he stole the wine! "

Steyer: "..."

[You're right. I've long felt that Joe's sly eyebrows are not as tall and handsome as you. Look at your hard-working hands. Joe must be jealous of your talent! 】

"Why don't you say anything today? I have bad eyesight. Don't keep showing me notes."

Harrick had barely read the content on the note. If Steele hadn't been a frequent visitor here, he wouldn't have spoken to him.

Stair pointed at his throat and was about to speak, but suddenly saw two familiar figures on the seats in the distance, obviously James and Gro, and Ria was already walking towards them, not knowing what they were communicating. .

Almost without thinking, Steyer dropped the note and rushed there, slapped the table, placed the bent throat on the table, pointed at his own throat and cursed silently angrily.

"Recovered the throat? Congratulations."

Gero looked at the pipe on the table and then at him.

"Woo!"

"You want me to help you put it back on?"

"Woo!"

"Can you promise not to talk nonsense again?"

"Woo!"

"For the last time, next time I will throw your throat to the giant whale in the Goti Sea. If you want to talk sooner, just search for it in its feces."

As he spoke, Gro picked up the throat, and it suddenly turned into a ball of gray-white powder. Under the influence of extraordinary power, the powder was blown by the wind towards Steyer's throat.

He pinched his neck in pain and coughed. Soon, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he had regained his ability to speak.