Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Nightmare Assault
Horror Game Designer
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
I, The Dragon Overlord
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 356: The Most Special Me
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 277: Enough
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1232- Both of us know
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 970: Shameless
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1231- Familiar person
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 343 - Kill Or Be Killed
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 39.1
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 644: That Sword Is Merely 90% Complete
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3844: Assassination
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 276: Bride
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 355: The Most Normal Me
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1230- Everyone's world
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 969: White Bone Divine Lord
The Defeated Saintess Is On A Journey To Tame The Evil God
Book 01 Chapter 07.13 - Red Epiphyllum
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 342 - The Foundational Battle Over 600 Years Ago
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 38.2
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1229- Cloud Peak defense system
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 643.2: The Temple Master Isn't Invincible, the Great Sword Immortal Has Already Entered the City - Part 2
"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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