Chapter 12: A Pair of Dazzling, Gilded, Cold Snake Eyes.

Chapter 12 A Pair of Dazzling, Golden, Ice-Cold Snake Eyes

"Then I'll let you 'see'."

Luo Shengle only heard Mr. Narrator said this with a chuckle before she could process the meaning behind His words. Suddenly, a golden flash streaked across her vision, rushing toward her in an instant—only to vanish.

In this lightless place, the brilliance of that fleeting color jolted Luo Shengle’s vision awake, burning a vivid afterimage onto her retinas.

After a stunned moment, her breath caught sharply—she realized what it was…

A pair of eyes.

A pair of dazzling, golden, ice-cold snake eyes.

"Ah—"

Luo Shengle finally covered her eyes. Only then did she realize that a small serpent with golden eyes had slithered into them!

The feeling was strange—no pain, not even the irritation of an eyelash in her eye—yet she could distinctly feel the serpent merging with her retinas.

The little snake, with its strange golden eyes, slithered effortlessly through Luo Shengle’s sight, its cold, hard scales brushing against her brow, her forehead, the neural pathways in her brain, as if it could swim deeper and deeper into the recesses of her mind.

Goosebumps prickled her skin. For a moment, all she felt was dizziness, nausea, and pure horror.

When the strange feeling finally faded, Luo Shengle slowly straightened up, lowering her hands from her eyes to stare dazedly at what lay before her.

Just as the Narrator had promised, she could indeed see now.

Though there was no light, every line and contour of everything before her was laid bare.

With shock, Luo Shengle realized she had returned to the aquarium in her sleep.

But this aquarium was silent, deserted, wrapped in darkness like a shroud of mystery.

After standing still a while, her stiffening neck and shoulders made her hesitate. Afraid to move carelessly, she called out cautiously, "Mr. Narrator… are you still there?"

No response.

Now that she thought about it, ever since the little snake appeared, she hadn’t heard the rustling, slithering sounds of scales behind her anymore.

—He must have been drawn away by something else, and left her alone.

This realization made her curious, but mostly, it brought a quiet sigh of relief.

"When there’s danger, Mr. Narrator can handle it. When there’s no danger, Mr. Narrator is the greatest danger of all…"

She muttered the joke under her breath, took a few steps forward and started examining the dark aquarium. Layout-wise, it was the same as the one she’d seen in daylight—only the atmosphere was far more sinister.

Luo Shengle crossed the lobby and turned into the corridor of Hall A, then froze mid-step.

Inside the display tanks, what was on display for visitors to admire weren’t fish at all…

But people.

One after another, their skin white and wrinkled from soaking, their bodies floating stiffly in the water like pale, lifeless waves.

Some were pushed upward by the shifting currents, drifting until their pale faces squashed against the curved glass above, their features distorted, eyelids flipped open—as if waterlogged corpses were staring down at her from above.

A scream rose in her throat, but Luo Shengle only stumbled backward, numb from too much terror.

Why… were people the exhibits?

She still remembered falling asleep. This must be a dream—perhaps not even her own.

Did whoever created this dream think that humans, not fish, should be on display?

What kind of sicko would—

Naturally, her first thought fell upon the non-human being she knew best: the Narrator. But she quickly dismissed the thought.

Even with their differences in species and abilities—despite the times Mr. Narrator had unsettled her—Luo Shengle believed His attitude toward humans was generally benign. Otherwise, He wouldn’t bother talking with players across different scenarios through a phone.

The Narrator surely wouldn’t create such a grotesque scene in a dream.

Putting people in fish tanks, putting them on display in an aquarium…

After thinking a moment, Luo Shengle detected resentment woven into the act.

Whoever owned this dream seemed angry, taking out their anger this way—but why?

What had sparked this rage? What did it have to do with the aquarium?

Unable to solve the mystery yet, Luo Shengle set it aside and moved on, soon reaching the staff area.

As she passed a blank white wall, she suddenly paused, bending down for a closer look.

Scrawled across it were several lines of crooked handwriting, as if a child had carefully formed each letter. Yet when Luo Shengle examined it, she realized the script belonged to no known language.

…And yet, she could read it effortlessly. The meaning came to her instantly through the unfamiliar symbols.

No need to guess—this had to be the work of the little snake the Narrator had given her.

Shuddering, she touched her forehead and deciphered the words:

"Mother told me to wait here… for her return. I will obey…"

"On the 300th day of waiting. Some siblings have broken their vows and left. Others have fallen to the enemies hunting us."

"But I remain. I will stay forever, waiting for Mother’s return…"

"Is this the child separated from their mother in the system’s task?"

Luo Shengle’s eyes softened with pity. "In cases like this, the mother likely abandoned the child… or met with some accident, making it impossible to return."

Either way, she doubted the mother would ever come back.

With a quiet sigh, Luo Shengle was about to move on when the ground suddenly shook violently.

A deafening, monstrous roar tore through the aquarium, piercing her eardrums like a thousand needles.

The earth split. The walls melted. The world inverted—the entire dreamscape shuddered on the brink of collapse, as if some immense force were ripping it apart.

Caught in the chaos, Luo Shengle felt like she’d been tossed into a high-speed washing machine, spinning wildly before being hurled out of the dream.

In the final blur of consciousness, she glimpsed a mountainous silhouette in the distance—countless serpentine heads entwined, golden eyes gleaming amidst silver-white scales…

That single, distant glance struck her mind like a hammer. Her eyes burned. Her spirit frayed. Her brain screamed.

She thought she was screaming too—but no sound escaped. Agony clamped around her like a giant fist, squeezing tighter, tighter…

By the end, she couldn’t tell whether darkness swallowed her because she’d left the dream—or if she’d simply fainted from sheer terror.

The only certainty was that those golden eyes would remain branded into her memory, unforgettable for the rest of her life.