Chapter 11: He is the King of Snakes.

Chapter 11: He Is the Serpent King.

Starving, starving, starving—

His pupils slit excitedly as Yi Fengchu nearly couldn't wait to hunt, to chase down the source of that intoxicating aroma and gulp it down whole, then wait for the slow process of digestion.

But just then, from the depths of the pitch-black void, came a familiar call: "Mr. Narrator..."

Who was calling him?

Yi Fengchu’s movements instinctively paused, his awareness returning faintly—though still hunger-drunk.

He still felt as though he were lost in a dream-state, vaguely aware that his current state was abnormal, yet unable to fully wake up, his instincts outpacing reason.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Yi Fengchu arrived at the source of the voice and saw a hesitant back retreating into the darkness.

There was almost no light here, yet Yi Fengchu could clearly make out the contours of everything, even distinguishing down to every strand of hair, every nerve, every cell of that figure. He recognized them—an acquaintance from school, the neighbor who lived across from him—

Most importantly, off-limits.

Nor was this the source of his hunger.

So Yi Fengchu suppressed his appetite and, forcing patience, responded, "I'm here."

Luo Shengle stiffened abruptly.

She heard a strange reply, as though a chorus of voices speaking as one, their layered echoes resonating chaotically in her ears with a throaty resonance, scratching at her eardrums.

Yes, "wriggling"—

This was the first time Luo Shengle realized that sound could be described this way. It wasn’t just sound waves but something tangible, perceptible, alive.

Beyond these eerie echoes, the clearest part of the voice was the crystalline voice of a young man.

Objectively speaking, it wasn’t disagreeable—even pleasant—but Luo Shengle was certain this was far beyond what an ordinary human like her could appreciate.

Yi Fengchu stared at Luo Shengle’s frozen back for a moment before realizing, to his displeasure, that he had to angle his gaze up to see her head.

Seriously? Since when was he this short?

He vaguely remembered being at least half a head taller than her!

Determined, Yi Fengchu straightened up, elongating his body—

Up, up, endlessly upward, until soon he had to look down to see Luo Shengle.

Standing so close, Luo Shengle could clearly sense the sinuous rustling behind her. She heard the icy rasp of scales, the "shhk, shhk" rising into the air, making it impossible to imagine what kind of colossal being now loomed behind her.

In the darkness, she couldn’t see, but she could almost picture it—if there were light, how vast a shadow would be cast over her?

"M-Mr. Narrator...?"

This time, despite feeling somewhat familiar with this lofty one, Luo Shengle couldn’t help her voice quavering, betraying her fear.

Yi Fengchu loomed over her, slightly puzzled. Why was she afraid?

Was there something wrong with how he looked now?

Still, faced with his unreasonably frightened senior, Yi Fengchu decided to coax gently.

"Don’t be afraid," Luo Shengle heard the multilayered echoes draw closer, "...and don’t turn around."

"Don’t look at me. Don’t even try to imagine what I look like."

Luo Shengle gulped and nodded shakily.

How could she not be afraid?!

Now she could even feel chill, sinuous things dangling above her, like gnarled ancient vines undulating over her head...

Were those... snakes?

—Slender, scaled, ice-cold snakes.

Was Mr. Narrator’s true form a living knot of snakes? Could He also be revered as the "King of Snakes"?

No, no more imagining! Stay calm, stay calm, rein in your thoughts...

Heeding the Narrator’s instructions, Luo Shengle kept her neck stiff, resisting even the slightest turn, forcing the wild thoughts out of her mind.

Just then, the snakes above her seemed to still, all turning toward the same direction.

"Listen," the Narrator mused with mocking humor, "there’s a tiny thing crying."

The hissing of snakes, their forked tongues flickering, surrounded Luo Shengle. She could feel them—long, cold-scaled beings like vines slithering behind her, their cold scales occasionally grazing her scalp. She didn’t dare turn, her neck rigid as she stared into the darkness ahead.

Luo Shengle didn’t dare speculate further on the Narrator’s real visage. She could only try to distract herself, feigning cheer as she replied, "Crying? ...Sorry, I can’t hear anything."

To her senses, there was only endless darkness, and one of only two entities here—one that could speak to her—was standing behind her in a far more terrifying form...

Her scalp crawled near-painfully. The fact that she was still standing upright, not collapsing to her knees, was already a minor miracle.

She even thought to herself, *Goodness, my mother would never have guessed that the child who used to wail at scary shadows would grow up to calmly converse with a...*

*A being who might be a god—or a devil.*

Yi Fengchu gazed down at her, his voice tinged with confusion. "You really can’t hear anything?"

*Well, you probably don’t understand human sensory range...*

She bit back her thoughts. Luo Shengle explained, "No, all I hear is... something like the sea-wind howling through caverns."

"Perhaps to you, that’s the sound of something crying?"

Still in this dreamlike state, Yi Fengchu listened again. The sobbing was unmistakable, echoing clearly around them, mingled with the distant sound of waves—ethereal and haunting.

And at the source of those sobs... was the scent that made him ravenous.

Yi Fengchu flicked his serpentine tongue, his fangs aching with hunger. He wanted to hunt.

But leaving Senior Luo alone in this unknown place didn’t align with the moral upbringing he’d received—it didn’t meet his standards of being an upstanding youth.

So, mustering his willpower, Yi Fengchu suppressed his growing hunger and eyed her pityingly, sighing silently.

*Poor thing, so young yet half-deaf and blind.*

"?"

Feeling the snakes above her sway slightly, as if shaking their heads, Luo Shengle instinctively started to look up—then forced herself to stop midway.

Don’t look up. Don’t look...

Luo Shengle warned herself again, then heard the Narrator's layered voice speak: "You've been standing here, seemingly unable to see properly."

"Yes, humans generally cannot see in environments without light," she added meticulously. "Those High-level ability users are no longer human and might manage, but clearly, I don't fall into that category."

Yi Fengchu fell silent, a twinge of irritation rising within him. What did she mean by "humans generally can't see"?

He could see perfectly fine!

But Yi Fengchu was in a hurry to hunt and couldn’t waste breath arguing with Luo Shengle. Instead, he instinctively severed a part of himself—as effortlessly and painlessly as plucking a strand of hair—and sent it gliding toward her.

"Then I’ll make you *see*."