Chapter 114: “You Will.”

Chapter 114 "You'll See."

Yi Fengchu assumed the identity of High Priest Wu Suer, then inhabited Chu Fu's body, flexing his fingers somewhat uncomfortably as he prepared to enter the chosen instance.

The Playground System's voice, mechanical and glitchy, rang out:

「Detected player has lost vital signs. Player data does not exist...」

「Beep. Connection to main system abnormal. Error reporting in progress... Error reporting failed...」

The Playground System was, in essence, a void entity surviving in the data stream. It extended its massive, spectral form, each tendril connected to a different player, constantly reading their game data, monitoring vital signs, issuing mission instructions, and handling routine communications.

These tendrils—invisible and intangible to ordinary Ability users yet an ever-present shadow—were what players referred to as their "personal systems."

In theory, once a personal system detected abnormalities in a player's vital signs or data, it would report the error to the main system for higher authorities to handle. If necessary, it would directly unbind from the player.

—And the "Chu Fu" whose identity Yi Fengchu had borrowed clearly qualified as abnormal data.

But for Yi Fengchu, this was a minor issue. The small tendrils of void creatures like personal systems were, in fact, quite easy to deceive.

The moment the system first detected the anomaly and attempted to report it, Yi Fengchu decisively created a time loop around the system, forcing it to loop endlessly within a tiny fragment of time, repeating the same two error messages over and over.

Now that Yi Fengchu had reactivated Chu Fu's identity, the time loop was undone. The system emitted a system reboot sound:

「Re-detection in progress. Please wait.」

「Beep. Player data normal. Vital signs normal. Connection to main system normal. Error report canceled.」

During the brief waiting period, unlike most players who would inventory their supplies and items, Chu Fu simply stretched his arms and legs, performing basic warm-up exercises.

Perhaps it had been too long since he last used this body—he couldn't help but feel somewhat unaccustomed. Chu Fu's height, arm length, and other physical attributes differed from Yi Fengchu's own, all of which affected movement habits and agility.

"If I'm going to use this body to clear an instance, I'll need to adjust," he muttered. "Is Chu Fu a bit shorter than me? The eye level feels different too..."

This instance belonged to the story-based type with a background story.

After spatial transition, the first thing Chu Fu saw upon opening his eyes was the scene reflected in the mirror.

The surroundings were utter darkness, save for a single red candle burning before the mirror, dripping hot wax.

In the faint light, Chu Fu realized he was seated on a chair in front of the mirror, holding an apple in his left hand and a fruit knife in his right. Half-peeled apple skin dangled from the blade like a ribbon—clearly already severed.

Pausing briefly with the knife, Chu Fu showed no reaction to the slightly eerie setting. Calmly, he finished peeling the apple for his instance identity, then took a crisp, juicy bite.

The system fell briefly silent for a moment before announcing:

「Welcome to the A+ level instance "Urban Legends Livestream." Good luck.」

「Player count: 20.」

「Instance introduction: Have you ever been curious about strange urban myths? Have you ever wanted to experience chilling stories firsthand?

Good news—in this city where humans and monsters live side by side, where the ordinary and the anomalous intertwine, you’ll have the chance to immerse yourself in exploring urban legends!

Of course, to enhance your experience, the use of Abilities at Tier 5 or above is prohibited. We hope all players can fully immerse themselves as ordinary city residents and embark on a unique adventure~」

「To boost player engagement, this instance will feature a special mechanic—the Livestream Screening Room.

The system will randomly invite divine beings to fill the audience seats, allowing them to participate in the instance by watching the livestream.」

「If you’re fortunate enough to win the audience’s favor, you may receive large point donations, inside information, and other surprises. But if you fail to attract viewers... well, let’s just say you might face additional dangers and trials.

Opportunity and risk always go hand in hand, right? Such is the cardinal rule of the Playground.」

「Mission 1: Investigate and document 7 urban legend events. (0/7)」

「Mission 2: Audience members have the freedom to choose screening rooms, which will affect livestream popularity rankings. The player with the lowest popularity will be treated as having failed the mission.

As a hopeful new streamer, you wouldn’t want to be the least popular one, would you? Strive to increase your viewership!」

「Mission 3 (Side): They died, but they will return—Identify their killer.」

As soon as the system finished speaking, a translucent electronic screen materialized midair—the livestream interface mentioned in the special mechanic.

Chu Fu examined the screen with interest, spotting the number "8" displayed at the top, likely his livestream ID.

Since the broadcast had just begun, viewers were entering randomly. The initial popularity count stood at 45, with a few semi-transparent chat messages streaking by like meteors.

「First time getting an invite to this instance. So novel! What are we, the audience, supposed to do?」

「The newbie’s adorable! As viewers, we just watch, pick our favorite streams, and enjoy the show as players stumble through~」

「If you’re interested, you can donate what you can. Just spend within your means.」

「I’m not giving any points ∧∧ It’s just a human player—there are plenty more where they came from.」

「Kinda like the streamer’s blue eyes. Hey, look over here~ Aren’t you gonna greet us?」

「Yeah, if you’re too cold, we might just ditch you for another screening room~」

A few more teasing comments followed.

Taking another bite of the apple, Chu Fu glanced up and smiled faintly. "Hmm... You want me to look at you, is that it?"

"Good thing I’ve always been a kind player who grants wishes. Of course, I’ll oblige."

The scrolling chat messages froze abruptly.

Far away in another dimension, inside Screening Room No. 8, the audience members seated before the large screen collectively felt an oppressive force bearing down on them.

For an instant, they glimpsed—behind the raven-haired, blue-eyed human streamer—what seemed like the unfurling of a resplendent, illusory white peacock’s tail. At the tips of its long feathers, golden-rimmed eyes blinked open one after another, radiant as blazing suns, staring directly at them!

Despite the vast distance, every viewer instinctively held their breath, overcome by the eerie sensation of being scrutinized and pinned under the gaze of those peacock-feather eyes.

Just as suddenly, the inexplicable oppressive aura vanished, and the peacock’s tail disappeared as though it had all been a hallucination.

But every audience member knew—it hadn’t been.

Even after the pressure and the peacock feathers faded, they could still keenly sense countless unseen eyes coiled tightly around them.

Like intangible, icy serpents—lingering, unshakable, entwined around their very beings...

One viewer, a newcomer to this type of instance, immediately questioned its divine existence: *Since when was being an audience member this high-risk?!*

*Why did no one warn me?!*

This particular viewer resembled a large jellyfish. It fluttered its bell frantically, drifting toward the screening room’s exit in an attempt to flee to another livestream.

Yet the moment its tendrils touched the door handle, the jellyfish viewer found itself reversing trajectory—returning to its seat as though a recording played in rewind. To lower-dimensional beings trapped within the "tape," whether the unseen hand rewound or fast-forwarded, they were powerless to resist.

The jellyfish spectator still refused to give up, attempting repeatedly but always getting sent back to its original spot, its tentacles knotting in frustration.

Chu Fu observed its efforts, speaking to the screen in a creepily soft tone, "Why leave? Don't like me watching you?"

"To offer such warmth only to be met with rejection... truly disheartening for a new streamer."

Though his voice carried a fake-hurt tone, no viewers dared to respond carelessly now, fearful of drawing his attention.

The jellyfish spectator, indirectly called out, stiffened entirely—its glowing tentacles rigidly straight, its pale-blue bell flushing into a gradient of crimson and orange, like a sunrise.

The screen remained silent for a long while. Only after Chu Fu finished his apple and tossed the core into the trash did new comments finally appear:

「???」

「Holy shit, what is happening?」

「...Five times participating in this dungeon's audience phase, and this is the first time I've encountered a hidden boss. Someone bless me.」

「Praying to fate might be faster. Just convert already~」

「Wait, is this streamer even human? Since when are humans this strong?」

「Weird. Doesn’t this dungeon suppress player Abilities above Tier 5...」

「Then the answer’s simple—either the streamer’s power surpasses the system’s, or that wasn’t an Ability but Divine Pollution...」

「Damn, aren’t we divine beings? Never thought we’d get corrupted by a streamer!」

「In this dungeon, it feels like we viewers are the challengers, not the streamer...」

「[SOBBING] Streamer, I’m on my knees, please stop staring at me—I’m just a baby jelly, I’m genuinely scared qwq」

「Streamer, could you at least give us a hint... Which big shot are you, disguised as a player?」

"I don’t understand what you’re saying."

Chu Fu smiled. "Welcome to my creepypasta stream. You’ll stick with me forever, won’t you?"

Without waiting for a response, he nodded and answered himself, "You will."

Viewers:

「As if we have a choice.」

「...The pleasure's all ours.」