Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Nightmare Assault
I, The Dragon Overlord
Loser System and Berserker Me
Horror Game Designer
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects!
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3830: Traversing Through Outer Space
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 326: Selection
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 248: Organisation
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1177- Situation change
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1176- Eighth
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 19
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 622: Natural Disasters and Man-made Calamities
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 325: City One Can't Leave
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 247: The Past is Like the Wind
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1175- Don't discriminate
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 946: Fatal Strike
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1174- Divide
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 18
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Chapter 78: This Fight Will Never End
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
Chapter 33: a.0.3 Update! Skills System
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 621: Meeting an Old Friend
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3829: An Answer
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 246: What are you Waiting For?
"Huff… Hah!" Osar roared, chopping with his hand, and causing a tower tree to come crashing down.
Then, continuing to use his hand as a chopping blade, he neatly trimmed the entire tree from top to bottom, turning it into a cylindrical log.
"Phew, that's the last one." He breathed, shaking his hands to cool his palms down.
"It's easy to chop, but a hassle to bring back." Osar sighed, loosening his shoulders, then put a hand inside his shirt and rubbed his body.
After some rubbing, he successfully got a bunch of fur. He then rolled the fur in his hands into a tight sphere, then pinched and shaped it into an abstract figure resembling that of a small person.
He threw the fur-ball figure onto the ground, and with a thud, it transformed into an abstract version of Osar.
How abstract was it? Imagine something that looked like it was modeled by someone who had roughly spent three years of learning animation.
Despite its crude look, Osar seemed quite satisfied. He inspected his abstract self and nodded. "Mm, not bad. You can handle this log."
The abstract version obediently nodded, picked up the log from the ground, and hoisted it onto its shoulder.
With his abstract self in tow, Osar retraced his steps according to what he remembered.
As he walked, he continuously created more abstract clones of himself from fur balls.
He had scoured for suitable trees along the way earlier, chopping them down and shaping them. Now, on his way back, he could collect all these logs and bring them back.
Of course, it was these clones that did the carrying. After all, so many logs would be too much for one person to handle alone.
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About an hour later, Osar returned to the camp, leading a parade of several dozen abstract clones of himself. By this time, he was far from the relaxed figure he had been an hour earlier. Exhausted, panting heavily, and with his tongue hanging out, he promptly slumped down as soon as he reached the camp. The fur-ball clones instantly transformed back into fur balls, resulting in a symphony
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