Chapter 13: The God Loves to Eat Fish

Chapter 13 The God Loves Fish

The next day, Yi Fengchu woke up clear-headed and energized and was about to kick off the covers to wash up when his phone suddenly spoke: "How did you feel last night?"

Though the voice was still the same monotonous, emotionless mechanical tone, Yi Fengchu somehow detected an odd undertone. He casually tidied his messy bedhead and arched an eyebrow. "Why ask that? Since when do you care about my sleep quality?"

"Hmph," the phone let out a cold laugh, its screen lighting up to display a glaring red arrow. "Look at the nightstand. That’s what you brought back in the middle of the night."

Yi Fengchu instinctively followed the arrow’s direction and widened his sleep-blurred eyes in surprise. "Huh?"

Carefully, he pinched the inexplicably appeared object on the nightstand between his thumb and forefinger and brought it close for a thorough inspection.

"Uh... a coiled... octopus tentacle?"

At first glance, it resembled an octopus tentacle, but upon closer inspection, it was different: the suckers covering its entire length each had a thin slit at the center. When Yi Fengchu prodded it with his finger, he discovered that beneath each slit lurked something resembling an eyeball.

At the severed end of the tentacle was a fish scale coated in an eerie blue fluid.

Yi Fengchu tried to imagine the complete form of this bizarre specimen—first sketching a fish covered in scales in his mind, then adding a few curling octopus tentacles at the ends of the scales, and finally adorning the tentacles with eyes embedded within the suction cups...

How macabre. What the hell is this?

Driven by curiosity, Yi Fengchu opened his phone’s camera and aimed it at the peculiar tentacle. Instantly, relevant information appeared beside it:

"A tentacle of the Tidal Prince"

"Description: He has been dead for endless ages, yet his corpse still breathes."

Though he didn’t know exactly what the "Tidal Prince" referred to... judging by the description, it likely came from a long-dead corpse, right?

With disgust, Yi Fengchu tossed the unidentified object aside, grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer spray nearby, and spritzed his hands liberally before meticulously wiping them clean with a tissue. Only then did he ask in astonishment, "Did I really bring this back? Was I sleepwalking?"

"Haven’t you always been concerned about my personal safety? Why didn’t you wake me up last night?" Yi Fengchu poked his phone. "What if I’d sleepwalked onto the road and gotten hit by a car?"

The phone fell silent for a long while before replying slowly, "...No need to worry. The place you went to in your sleep was far more distant than any road—I was more worried about you running into and killing someone else."

Yi Fengchu frowned in confusion, his mind elsewhere as he finished washing up. Staring into the mirror for a moment, a thought struck him. "Ah, I think I remember a little."

"I vaguely recall having a dream last night," Yi Fengchu said, straining his memory. "I think I caught a delicious-smelling fish..."

"In the dream, I was so hungry that I couldn’t resist taking several bites. Then the fish kept screaming and thrashing in my hands... until it finally shattered the dream with a tail swipe, and I woke up."

The phone’s tone still sounded oddly off as it asked, "Oh? Anything else?"

Yi Fengchu gave a shrug. "I don’t remember much else. I think Senior Luo was in the dream too, but I can’t recall what she said to me."

He barely recalled that Luo Shengle had seemed somewhat frightened in the dream, speaking very cautiously, while he had been in a daze, completely uninhibited, blurting out whatever came to mind.

"..." The phone fell silent again, offering no further comment.

But this kind of quiet was what Yi Fengchu was most accustomed to—the usual dynamic between him and his phone.

As usual, Yi Fengchu walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and planned to grab some frozen dumplings or custard buns for breakfast.

A wave of cold air rushed out as the warm interior light illuminated rows of bottled drinks and vibrant fresh produce, casting an inviting golden glow over them.

Yet, for some reason, as Yi Fengchu stared at the food, he felt as though he were looking at a display of flavorless wax replicas... He couldn’t even imagine himself tasting or swallowing them.

Even though his stomach was growling emptily with hunger, he felt no desire whatsoever to eat any of it.

"Forget it. Skipping breakfast once in a while shouldn’t be a big deal."

After some hesitation, Yi Fengchu only took out a carton of milk, heated it, and poured it into a glass.

Even this small amount of liquid was hard to stomach. He forced himself to slowly gulp it down mechanically.

He was a little hungry... but he didn’t want to eat any of this, any of this...

This human food.

Then what should he eat?

Desperate to distract himself from this strange hunger, Yi Fengchu opened his phone and began peeking into the "Whalebone Aquarium" dungeon again.

It was still early, and Yi Fengchu wasn’t sure if Luo Shengle had already gotten ready, so out of courtesy, he didn’t check on her directly. Instead, he used the aquarium’s reflective glass surfaces to observe his surroundings.

Fish swimming in tanks, staff passing by mirrors, murmured conversations in front of glass displays...

Everything flashed before his eyes before quickly moving on, finally settling on the view outside the window.

An endless sea stretched under the sunlight, its surface sparkled with dancing light. Foamy white waves rose and fell gently with the ocean breeze, their reflections dancing on the pristine glass.

"Huh?"

Yi Fengchu couldn’t help but pause in disbelief. "Wait, wasn’t the aquarium on a regular street before? Why is there an ocean outside now...?"

The phone replied, "It’s all because you scared it. The 'aquarium' fled hundreds of miles away overnight with its collection and staff."

The phone’s responses were often deliberately ambiguous, and Yi Fengchu couldn’t tell if it was being serious or just maintaining its usual sarcastic, mocking tone, so he cautiously chose not to take it at face value.

Before long, the phone spoke up again. "She’s finished her morning routine now."

Seeing Yi Fengchu’s expression suddenly grew complicated as he eyed it with wary suspicion, the phone added, "I have no gender, nor do I perceive things through human vision."

"Don’t project human concepts onto me. It bores me."

"Bores you? But it’s precisely by following the perspectives of ordinary players like us that we’ve been able to explore and uncover the rules and mechanics of every dungeon so far. I think human concepts—whether good or bad—are quite fascinating."

Clapping his hands lightly, Yi Fengchu blinked and said with a smile, "Alright, let’s see what kind of wondrous adventure awaits us today."

...

While rinsing her mouth, Luo Shengle’s gaze naturally drifted downward to the sink, where she unexpectedly caught a glimpse of a wrinkled, yellowish object stuck at the drain, only a small corner visible.

What’s this?

Curious, Luo Shengle bent down and flicked her fingers, summoning a gust of wind that surged up through the pipes and dislodged the yellowish object, sending it tumbling into the sink.

Another breeze unfurled the crumpled paper ball.

Only then did she realize it was half of an old blue-backed photograph—likely torn in half and flushed down, with one half already lost to the pipes while this piece had gotten stuck, lying forgotten in the unused room until Luo Shengle moved in.

Though incomplete, the photo was still recognizable as an ID picture. The man in it wore a white shirt, clean-shaven, with a scar about half a finger’s length on his left cheek, cutting through what would have been a handsome brow.

Luo Shengle’s eyes lingered on the scar, noting its crescent shape and the burn-like marks around it, as if a tiny moon had been seared into his skin.

This was probably left behind by some player who’d visited this dungeon before.

Thinking little of it, Luo Shengle was about to dismiss the photo—until she used the wind to flip it over.

On the back of the photo were a few messily scrawled characters, likely written with a special heavy-duty waterproof ink. Even after being stuffed in an extremely damp environment, the writing had only smudged slightly, leaving the characters still legible.

"These are... Chinese characters?"

This immediately caught Luo Shengle's attention.

The Gods' Amusement Park spanned multiple dimensions and civilizations. Among countless dungeons, encountering traces of players from the same civilization who shared the same language could be counted as a stroke of luck.

Feeling a connection, Luo Shengle carefully deciphered the blurred writing. But as she read on, the unconscious smile on her face gradually faded.

"This dungeon... impossible...?"

An ominous premonition grew in Luo Shengle's heart, making her instinctively uneasy. The last two characters were crammed together, nearly torn off completely.

After staring at them for ages, Luo Shengle uncertainly muttered the final words: "Sacrifice?"

What did this mean? That couldn't mean anything good...

Her frown deepened as she glanced at the last few words one final time. A gust of wind gathered in her palm, turning the half-photo to shreds like a paper shredder.

Along with the faintly smiling face of the stranger in the photo, it cracked into pieces, scattering as dust carried by the wind.