harleyscars Page 343
Page 343
The live streamer nodded, didn't ask any more questions, and instead raised the phone on the selfie stick and pointed the camera at himself: "I asked, and he said he's fine now."
She addressed the viewers in the live stream.
"Who are you talking to?" Michael was immediately alarmed upon seeing this, a very bad premonition rising in his heart. Usually, such premonitions would be prophetic. Now that he had lost his power, Michael wanted to pray that he had also lost his ability to prophesy, but reality was truly not on his side.
This may be largely due to Michael's habit of altering reality too much, which has created a grudge with reality that is no less intense than the one between him and the other angels.
"Um... it's Lucifer. Lucifer is in my live stream right now." The live stream angel hesitated for a moment, not daring to lie, and gave a dry response.
at this time.
Some viewers in the chat called them the "Chuunibyou Group," but the streamer had no time to explain, because he saw the archangel's face turn from blue to red again.
The reddish-brown hue was incredibly intense.
It was practically oozing smoke from its ears and nostrils.
"What did you say?!"
Michael suddenly looked up, his voice booming like thunder!
"No! It wasn't me who wanted to contact him!" Angel quickly waved her hand. "It was him... he sneaked into my live stream, and then... he kept sending me gifts."
"Fifty fantasy castles".
The live stream angel added earnestly.
His eyes were a little dodgey.
Michael's expression grew increasingly grim.
"Are you planning to move to hell and become a fallen angel? You're willing to side with the devil for a little bit of virtual currency?"
He shouted his question.
His tone was filled with anger and disbelief.
"Of course not!" the angel hurriedly explained. "I am still devout to the Lord and to Heaven, but... as you know, points are very important to us."
“Lucifer gave too much.”
"It's not easy to get this kind of gift, especially under such strict supervision. I can't even dress too revealingly, and it's even more difficult to ask for a large reward."
"Those people in the live stream were saying that if I showed them my breasts, they would give me a lot of money. I really don't know why there are warnings like 'pornographic content in live stream'."
The female angel's tone was full of grievance. Her words also fully demonstrated that these angels, whose understanding was very different from that of humans, were already thinking of taking shortcuts on the very first day of work.
However, it was strictly prohibited.
"Even fallen angels wouldn't utter such shameless words!" Michael roared again. Before he finished speaking, the angel's phone vibrated again.
The female angel glanced at the screen instinctively.
"Oh, he sent me another fifty Fantasy Castles and told me to remind you that you have to be dedicated as a streamer. If you're not dead, get up and get a new computer to finish the dance for Lucifer."
"He knows you're a spoiled brat with a bad temper, but he says he chooses to forgive you." The live-streaming angel relayed the message in real time, and as a result, she gained another fifty Fantasy Castles.
At this moment.
The female angel who was live-streaming didn't know whether she should be happy or not. She knew that Michael, who was stomping his feet, was right, but the fallen angel they usually looked down on had given so much.
“I was just relaying his message, but… Your Majesty, you were dancing for him.” The female angel tried to suppress her guilt, so she chose Michael as an example.
As soon as these words came out.
Michael had reached his limit.
"I quit!!"
He abruptly ripped off his floral shirt, slammed the door, and stormed out. Left behind, the poor livestreaming angel silently cleaned up the mess and replaced the computer in the studio.
then.
She connected to the internet and logged into Michael's account.
"Family members, Michael has quit. Can you follow me? My name is Aurelia, and I'm also a member of the Paradise Family. Plus, my live stream has perks that Michael can't give you."
"What? You want to see a domineering CEO? I can be a domineering CEO too. As long as you give me more tips to help me regain my glory, I can even sculpt a giant eagle for myself."
The female angel only spent half a day and she has already learned how to be a deadly trap. Perhaps she truly deserves the title of "Live Stream Angel" because of her extraordinary talent.
Outside the factory.
The setting sun cast a long shadow of Michael. He angrily kicked a soda can, which flew through the air in a perfect parabola before being disdainfully shunned by a passing stray cat.
The roar of a Hellcat engine echoed in the distance. Michael looked up and saw Ian's demon car disappear around the street corner. To this day, he couldn't accept how someone who associated with demons could be a so-called savior angel. A feeling of abandonment and resentment suddenly welled up inside him, and the archangel raised his hand, pointing in the direction the car had gone.
"You're going to crash and burn!!!"
He mobilized the remaining divine power within his body, and a dazzling golden light condensed in his palm—then with a "poof," he blew up a breeze like a fart, causing the plastic bag on the roadside to swirl around.
"It has recovered a little, but not much."
Michael stood frozen in place.
Even stray dogs dared to bark at him.
His expression grew increasingly forlorn.
"I'm getting out of this damn place."
Michael stood outside the factory gate, glanced back at the bustling factory, and, having made up his mind, wandered aimlessly along the road toward the city center.
The highway leading to the city resembled a glowing snake winding in the setting sun.
Michael's steps were heavy, yet he had no direction. The metropolis was still bustling in the evening, with neon lights flashing, cars and people coming and going, and the streets were full of life.
"Stay away from me! You stinking humans!" Michael walked through the crowd like a zombie, his eyes vacant, but his heart was filled with an unquenchable rage.
He was once an archangel, the right wing of the Creator, and the one who ruled over judgment and war. Now, however, he has been banished to the mortal realm, and this humiliation makes him resentful of everyone around him.
"Hey kid, are you alright?"
The sound came from the right.
Michael turned his head.
He saw an old man wrapped in a tattered blanket sitting in a sheltered spot next to an ATM. The old man's gray beard was stained with food scraps, but his eyes were unusually clear, like two obsidian stones polished by time.
"You should take care of yourself,"
Michael could hear his own hoarse voice.
however.
He did not give up mocking the other party.
"Think carefully about why you've fallen to this state. Is it because of alcoholism? Gambling? Or simply laziness?" As an archangel, Michael believed he had witnessed countless reasons for people's fall from grace.
He thought the other person would be angry because he had hit a nerve.
only.
The old man smiled unexpectedly, revealing a few uneven, yellow teeth.
"Perhaps it's because of the exploitation by politicians and capitalists, or perhaps it's because God only looks at the human world but is indifferent to it. Of course, the biggest reason is definitely because I ruined my own marriage."
He adjusted his posture, and the blanket slipped off, revealing a dirty hat printed with the words "Vietnam War Veteran." "You look no different from me. Are you angry about your own experiences or angry about the injustice of this world?"
The old man's words were somewhat philosophical.
Michael, however, only felt a surge of irritation.
“Don’t expect everything from God. You are guilty, which is why you have fallen to this state.” Michael remained loyal, and his words made the old man with yellow teeth chuckle softly.
"So you also feel guilty?"
The old man suddenly asked.
This question struck Michael like a blow to the temple.
He stood there, stunned.
His expression changed several times in succession.
Michael recalled Ian's sarcastic remark about "exchanging points for answers," Lucifer's smug smile as he showered gifts, and his own mockery in the live stream chat.
Of course, the stinging pain of the electric current running through his body after smashing the computer with his punch was also unforgettable... At that moment, he was not an archangel, not a judge, nor the creator of the universe.
He was just a loser.
He looked down at his hands.
Then I looked up at the setting sun.
The glory of the past is now nothing but irony.
“It’s none of your business.” Michael finally gave a cold response, his voice so low it was almost inaudible, and he seemed somewhat listless.
When walking away quickly.
The archangel heard the old man behind him still rambling on and on.
"Child, anger is a mirror; it will only ever reflect your own reflection."
The old man's voice carried a hint of a sigh.
The archangel felt the name sounded familiar, but he didn't think about it much. He simply walked along the street, his spirits low, as more and more pedestrians appeared on the sidewalk.
"Human beings are born with original sin."
Michael's gaze swept across the street—the drunkard over there was guilty; the ragged homeless man in the corner was guilty; and the well-dressed elite across the street was guilty on top of guilty.
“This filthy world!” Michael walked through the crowd, his pace quickening and becoming more urgent, as if trying to escape something, but wherever he went, all he saw was “evil.”
A beggar lies on the street because he is lazy; a child cries because he is not strong enough; couples quarrel because they are not loyal to each other; and office workers are exhausted because they crave pleasure but are unwilling to put in the effort.
“Sloth is a sin, greed is a sin, weakness is a sin, and humanity should all be sent to hell.” He repeated this as if chanting a spell, until he crashed into a wall of flesh.
"What did you say, kid?"
A two-meter-tall, muscular black man grabbed him by the collar. Michael smelled the cheap cologne mixed with sweat on the man and saw his own distorted face reflected in those bloodshot eyes.
I'm telling you guys—
His second half of the sentence turned into a muffled groan.
The world suddenly spun upside down, and then darkness fell. When Michael realized he had been shoved headfirst into a garbage can, the stench of rotting food and chemical cleaners filled his nostrils.