Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Loser System and Berserker Me
Nightmare Assault
Everlasting Immortal Firmament
My Iyashikei Game
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 268: Newborn
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 190: Suspect
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1073- Gene Corruption
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 897: Hesitation
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 301 - If Anyone Dares To Spout Nonsense, Beat Them Up
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1072- Difficult to split
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 664 - The Evil God Beyond the Door
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 569: Rainy
Loser System and Berserker Me
Chapter 210: Deer Girl
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 189: Good People
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 267: Correction
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1071- Seen
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 896: Departure
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1070- Two secrets
The Defeated Saintess Is On A Journey To Tame The Evil God
Book 01 Chapter 07.10.2 - Red Epiphyllum
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 300 - Apologies To Everyone; Level 37 Godly General
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 663 - The Captured Mastermind
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 662 - The Decline of a Nation
"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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