Oliver entered the script, escaping the Star God's sight.
He knew that, like all web novels, the system's rank was higher than the Star God's.
Otherwise, Oliver wouldn't have dared to gamble on this one.
It turned out he succeeded.
Now that he had entered the script, Nous hadn't pursued him.
"Clearly, the system's rank is higher than the Star God's; Nous failed to calculate my fate, no wonder it wanted to trap me."
"A mere Star God, dares to contend with the system?"
Fortunately, he waited three days until the script cooldown was almost over before he sought out the Black Tower.
Next time, he would have to wait until the script cooled down before doing something like this again.
"This script is Castorice, the Chrysos Heirs of Amphoreus."
Oliver remembered; it was that poor person who had no friends since childhood and had been lonely for a thousand years.
He didn't know what the completion conditions for this script were.
As he was thinking, Oliver's vision, as before, zoomed out and shrunk.
It was as if all the scenery simultaneously poured into his eyes, causing a momentary trance.
Gurgle gurgle~~
"What's going on? Water? I seem to be in the water."
Oliver found himself completely cold, as if he was soaking in water.
His mouth, nasal cavity, and ears were all filled with water.
When he opened his eyes, he was immediately startled.
Because what came into view were two curves and a circle.
Pressing down towards his face.
Based on the pinkness of the circle, Oliver instantly judged it to be a beautiful young girl.
But that wasn't a reason to sit on his face.
A bony hand, dripping with water, shot out upwards with incredible speed and angle!
The hand's target was incredibly precise, directly blocking the unsuspecting curves that were about to settle down!
The sensation from his palm was soft, delicate, surprisingly elastic, and slightly warm; the feeling was like an electric current, tingling and numb.
"Ah!!!" the girl shrieked.
She sprang up from the spot, turning sharply to check the situation.
The result was seeing a man emerge from the water.
Their eyes met.
Oliver saw a girl's face, distorted by shock, anger, and shame, yet still breathtakingly beautiful (as pictured).
Oh, it was her.
Oliver recognized the girl; it was Castorice, the protagonist of this script.
She looked about eighteen, but perhaps older.
Because Castorice was an immortal, her appearance wouldn't change after adulthood.
Under the sunlight, Castorice's headlights sparkled.
Was this content that could be viewed without a filter?
Castorice froze for a second, finally coming to her senses; the other party was a man, a man hiding in the water and peeking.
From childhood to now, having lived so many years, she had never been seen naked by a man.
Her mind went blank, her arm instinctively shot up, her slender palm, carrying a sharp whistle that tore through the air, swung with all her might towards the other party's cheek!
The palm wind was sharp, and her fingertips seemed to be entwined with visible, soul-shaking aura of death.
Just before touching Oliver, she suddenly stopped her slap.
Because she remembered that anyone she touched would die.
She couldn't bear to kill someone who didn't want to die, even if this person was a pervert, not deserving of death.
However, Oliver's reaction was also swift.
His left hand shot out as quickly as a striking snake, his five fingers like iron tongs, precisely and firmly gripping the slender wrist that was swinging with a storm of death!
The touch was icy, the wrist astonishingly thin, as if it could snap with a little force.
And Oliver realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he had already released his strength, as if she hadn't truly intended to slap his face.
"Listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, I just happened to appear here," he growled urgently, trying to explain this absurd first encounter.
He was truly wronged.
Yes, he had seen a lot of unfiltered content.
But this was an irresistible force; he saw it as soon as he opened his eyes, who could stop it?
Castorice's shame and indignation were now replaced by a sense of surprise.
She widened her eyes, staring at Oliver's hand.
All of Castorice's struggles, all her shame, solidified in that instant.
In her deep purple eyes, the flame suddenly extinguished, replaced by a sense of disbelief.
She sharply lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the spot where their wrists met.
His hand was firmly covering skin she had never allowed anyone to touch.
No annihilation.
No withering.
No grey pallor, signifying the end of life, spread out.
He... was still alive?
The icy river water wrapped around her waist, bringing a biting chill, finally pulling Castorice back from that soul-shattering shock.
"Let... let go of me! Don't look!" Her voice trembled, carrying the tremor of surviving a great ordeal and a suppressed torrent of emotions.
Oliver immediately released his hand.
As long as Castorice didn't slap him, he couldn't keep holding her; that would truly be harassment.
On the bank, a white dress, intimate undergarments, and white long socks lay quietly on the grass, like discarded butterfly wings.
Castorice practically pounced, her movements filled with an unprecedented panic.
The soft fabric was hastily grabbed, urgently wrapping around her wet body.
The cold silk clung to her equally cold skin, bringing a shiver, yet strangely providing a fragile sense of security.
Her fingers trembled slightly, failing several times to accurately pass through the tiny cord holes.
The sunlight outlined the taut lines of her profile, her lips tightly pressed together, as if enduring some torment... Each rustle of fabric, each slight tightening of a tie, hammered at her chaotic mind.
That man... the man who inexplicably appeared from the bottom of the river... is he still there?
How much did he see?
Most importantly: why was the 'touch means death' curse ineffective against him?
Splash~
Just as Castorice finished dressing, she heard the sound of water behind her.
Oliver had come ashore.
He deliberately waited for Castorice to get dressed before coming up, to avoid making the Woju Princess nervous.
An introvert, having just experienced something absurd, she definitely wouldn't feel safe.
Oliver didn't want to scare away the protagonist of the script, lest he have to chase her.
He directly tore his clothes, and the Power of Abundance instantly condensed into new clothes for him to wear.
Looking at Castorice again, they were ten meters apart.
Originally, Oliver thought Castorice would leave, or continue to be silent.
But unexpectedly, she, an introvert, actually took the initiative to approach Oliver.
She stopped five meters away and then asked, "Who are you? Why don't you die?"
Oliver smiled.
Compared to being seen naked, Castorice was more concerned that the human she touched didn't die.
What a gentle girl.
"Because I am an Aeon of Abundance, I cannot die."
Oliver took two steps forward, then extended his hand and softly said, "Don't believe me? Try again?"
Although Castorice didn't understand what an Aeon of Abundance was, it must be very powerful.
She looked at Oliver's face, then at his palm.
She wanted to try, but didn't quite dare because she was afraid of failure; if she failed, this living person would be killed by her.
While Castorice was hesitating, a warm, large hand reached out and grabbed her palm directly.
Oliver had a smile on his face, his eyes sparkling: "See, you can't kill me."