Death Game: Starting as a fraudster, pretending to be a god.

Chapter 930: The Undoubted Strong Man, the Second Generation "Floyd"

In the uninhabited northwest Gobi Desert, in an old air-raid shelter-like building converted from underground, a row of silver-white coffin-like cabins that clearly do not belong to this world are laid out in the underground space.

A man with a mustache sat on a metal table in the middle of the metal cabins, his head and limbs wrapped in gauze, looking very disheveled.

The door of the shelter was opened, and Potassium Chloride, who was pushing a wheelchair, and Lacon, who was wearing a neck brace, walked in.

"Oh, it looks like you're having a rough time, Mr. Font," Potassium Chloride sighed, observing Font's appearance. "I thought Order was just joking about destroying our family... You got beaten up pretty badly."

Font sighed, "I'm fine. Jung and Bandura have been sent to the healing pod. I'm still able to sit here and watch, so I'm fine."

Lacan looked around: "Where's Adler? Is he really dead?"

Feng Te nodded: "He's really dead. He should be in Jingxu now... I hope the president can help him."

"How are you guys? Where's Demerol?"

Font asked, looking at them.

"Du Lengding has returned home. We were tricked by a guy named 'Schreiber'. We didn't get the inheritance and were even beaten up by the owner of the Sixth Island," Potassium Chloride sighed. "What's even worse is... that guy claims to be the successor of 'Freud'."

Feng Te reacted for a moment, then said, "First president?"

"Yes, the first president, he looks very similar."

Lacon said, then lowered his voice and added, "His temperament and behavior are also very similar... It's like he's been resurrected."

"Aa ...

Suddenly, cheerful laughter rang out in the room, followed by a cheerful female voice: "There actually is a successor to the first-generation president! How interesting!"

The voice echoed in the room, and several dusty-looking members of the Psychology Society looked around.

The sound seemed to come from all directions.

"Fluoxetine, where are you?"

KCl asked.

"Look behind you."

Fluoxetine's voice sounded again.

Potassium chloride didn't look back: "I don't believe it, you must be lying to me."

"Oops, you discovered me."

Fluoxetine jumped out from under the table in front of Fonte, hugging her knees like a frog. She was wearing a skirt that looked like some kind of European military style. The iron-gray color matched with the small military cap worn at an angle made her look handsome and a little playful.

She stood up straight, her high combat boots outlining the beautiful and straight lines of her calves.

Font was very surprised: "Fluoxetine, when did you hide here?"

"I saw the news last night that you were attacked and requested support, so I came here. You definitely can't defeat 'Order', and if you get seriously injured, you'll definitely need to recuperate here, so I came here in advance to wait for you."

“It’s surprising, isn’t it?”

Fluoxetine said with a grin, and Font was shocked.

"You knew we were under siege, but instead of coming to support us, you came here and crouched under a table in the middle of the night?"

Fluoxetine shook his finger. "Wrong, dear Mr. Font. I first found a hibernation chamber and slept for a while. When I estimated that the time was almost up, I hid under the table."

"This is just a reminder for you—next time, even if it seems like a safe base, you should search it. What if it's not me hiding there?"

Fluoxetine said with a smile, and Font was silent for a long time before sighing.

"Okay, you have a point."

Lacan raised another question: "Why do you sound as if you know the existence of this 'Schreber'? We only learned about this person yesterday, but you just said... 'actually'."

Anyone could tell from this wording that Fluoxetine obviously knew that the first generation of "Freud" had a successor.

"Of course I have my own sources of information. I'm good at making friends and I know a lot of them. I'm not like you who are hated by everyone." Fluoxetine held the table with one hand, his eyes sweeping over Lacan, Wundt, and potassium chloride. "So, naturally, someone would tell me that the first generation of 'Freud' has a successor."

Potassium Chloride looked at Fluoxetine mercilessly, "You're lying. You don't have many friends...or rather, the friends you think of yourself are definitely not friends in the traditional sense."

Fluoxetine said nonchalantly, "So, what about that 'Schreiber'? You said he looks a lot like the original president, and his temperament is similar... Could it be that the original president has been resurrected and deliberately disguised himself as someone else to take his own inheritance and play a trick on you? I don't think he'd be capable of such a thing!"

As Fluoxetine spoke, Lacan subconsciously denied: "No, it should be... uh..."

He frowned. "There's a certain possibility... but it's very small, because that guy still feels different. Compared to the original 'Floyd', he's... more flamboyant and confident."

"After all, he left a videotape directly provoking us, saying he wanted to take back the name 'Freud' and that our current president was unworthy of the name 'Freud'," Lacon said slowly. "These are not things the first generation of the guild would do..."

Fluoxetine raised an eyebrow at this. "That doesn't sound like it. That guy certainly isn't that flamboyant or aggressive... Well, if he really is the successor, then he's found a truly remarkable person. He possesses his strengths: cunning, dark and twisted, lacking empathy, shamelessness, and opportunism, but lacks his stoic, calm, cautious, and methodical weaknesses."

"And... he actually took the initiative to find you before I found him and even issued a provocative statement? That's really great!"

"The target is our current guild president. Don't you think this guy is super, super interesting?"

Obviously, the other three did not agree with fluoxetine's point of view.

but……

Another voice sounded again.

"He's an interesting guy indeed."

Inside the underground shelter, a buzzing sound was heard, and in front of everyone, a collection of noises and noises appeared out of thin air.

Like the kind that appears on an old-fashioned television with interfered signals, the buzzing sound also turned into a rustling sound as the area gathered and expanded.

Then...

A girl wearing narrow-rimmed gold-rimmed glasses, a neat bob haircut, and a white shirt looks fresh and capable. She has three teardrop moles under her left eye and walks out from the noise.

"'Schreiber'—I'll remember him. I'll consider him my next trial."

"Since he thinks I'm unworthy of inheriting the name 'Floyd', I look forward to his challenge—I will let him know that I am indeed the most qualified person to inherit Zheng Jianshen's name and the most qualified person to lead the organization he founded."

Seeing her appearance, Wundt, Lacan and potassium chloride all breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're finally back."

Lacon muttered.

Fluoxetine also looked at her, his eyes curved with a smile: "Oh, it's our dearest president."

This sudden appearance at this moment...

Of course, it is the current board member of the "Psychological Society", the recognized president, and the player codenamed "Freud"!

at the same time……

She is also ranked fifth on the list, standing at the top, and is undoubtedly a "Level 4" powerhouse!