Chapter 3: When the bell of return tolls long.
Chapter 3: When the bell of return tolls long.
Chapter 3: When the Bell of Return Tolled.
At this moment, Yi Fengchu had already switched his phone screen back to Luo Shengle's view.
On the small screen, Luo Shengle was struggling to climb the bell tower. The endless spiral staircase seemed infinite, stretching into the abyss of despair with no end in sight.
Ugh, these steps just keep going, like running into a haunted loop...
Luo Shengle wiped the thin sweat from her temples, her legs moving mechanically as the muscle fatigue made her question her sanity.
"Click, click..."
Suddenly, a faint sound echoed from behind her, drifting lightly through the spiraling stairwell.
Her heart skipped a beat as she turned in alarm, only to see the cold steps stretching into the darkness below, as if leading straight into the gaping throat of some monstrous beast ready to swallow her whole.
Steadying herself, Luo Shengle flicked her fingers. A breeze stirred, wrapping around her like an invisible veil, standing guard at her side.
"Click..." Another soft sound, like a glass bead rolling down step after step.
The noises came intermittently, sometimes distant, sometimes close—even startlingly near her ear at times...
Unease weighed on her like a spiked club, hammering heavily against her skull, leaving her gasping with dread. Driven by fear, she quickened her pace.
What... was following her?
Her neck stiffened, too afraid to look back as she forced herself to focus on the path ahead.
Yi Fengchu frowned, scanning the bell tower up and down but finding no trace of another presence.
After a moment of thought, he suddenly realized something. He adjusted his view downward.
There, he clearly saw a cracked, murky gray glass bead resting silently on the tenth step ahead of Luo Shengle, about to roll toward her feet.
Something shadowy stirred inside the bead, shifting slightly—like...
Like an eyeball sealed within the glass!
Yi Fengchu’s gaze fixed on it immediately, only for the eye to seemingly sense his attention. It spun in place a few times before landing with a soft "click," lying still as if pretending to be nothing more than an ordinary marble.
"...Hm?" Yi Fengchu murmured in puzzlement.
Did this thing actually detect his gaze... and fear him?
Shifting his attention back to Luo Shengle, he saw her frozen in place, cautiously sensing the air currents around her.
Never one to hesitate, he swiped his phone screen and asked, "What is that?"
[S-class item: A fragment of "Pandora's Box"]
Description: Upon fulfilling the activation conditions, it can drag the target into an endless illusion, assaulting their fragile psyche with terror.
An S-class item?
Even Yi Fengchu had encountered only a handful of S-class or higher items over the years. Objects of this tier were impossible to mass-produce or craft artificially—most bore Divine Pollution and possessed unique traits.
To think even a legendary item like this could be so terrified of a phone... or his gaze?
Yi Fengchu grew even more curious about the phone’s origins and why it had chosen him.
Meanwhile, Luo Shengle, after an eternity of tense silence without hearing another eerie "click," gathered her resolve and pressed forward.
Under Yi Fengchu’s watchful eye, the glass-encased eyeball remained perfectly still, even as Luo Shengle’s shoe nearly brushed past it without resistance.
No doubt about it—this thing was genuinely afraid of his gaze.
Maybe he should keep it for study? Yi Fengchu considered.
So he instructed Luo Shengle, "Pick up the glass bead on the ground."
Glass bead? Where?
Only after looking around did Luo Shengle realize it was right at her feet.
She quickly realized something was wrong—it lay conspicuously in the center of the steps, yet she had kept overlooking it as if blind.
Hesitating, she observed it warily. When the bead remained still, she carefully picked it up.
The moment her fingers touched it, the bead was automatically stored in her system’s inventory.
At the same time, the Playground System displayed its description:
[Item: Pandora's Heart (B-)]
[Status: Bound]
[Usage Condition: Must maintain contact with the target for 5 seconds. Limited to 3 uses.]
[Description: Little lamb in the box, sleep soundly, forever lost in sweet dreams.]
Reading this, Luo Shengle immediately understood—the strange sounds earlier must have been the glass bead manipulating her perception, nearly turning her into the "lamb in the box" mentioned in the description.
Yi Fengchu, however, frowned. Why did an S-class item, as identified by the phone, downgrade to "B-" once Luo Shengle stored it?
It was as if the moment she touched it, the extraordinary artifact had been replaced by the Playground System...
This oddity lingered in Yi Fengchu’s mind, tucked away for later consideration.
Once Pandora's Heart was retrieved, the endless staircase before Luo Shengle shattered like broken glass, revealing the truth.
With a start, she realized she had already reached the bell tower’s peak!
Dust-covered stone tiles bore layers upon layers of footprints forming a perfect circle—she had been unknowingly walking in circles. Had the Narrator not intervened, she might have been trapped indefinitely.
Perhaps she would’ve kept walking that loop forever, doomed within that tiny, footprint-drawn circle.
Hands trembling, Luo Shengle clutched her phone, struggling to steady her hands as she replied gratefully, "All praise to you, Mr. Narrator! Thank you for your timely assistance."
Yi Fengchu replied honestly, "No need for thanks."
After all, he’d merely glanced at the glass bead—who knew the thing would be so timid?
"Your lives and deaths are yours to determine, not my mercy," Yi Fengchu explained flatly.
Luo Shengle was stunned by his response.
Truthfully, this was the first time she’d seen a powerful being reject praise and instead acknowledge the value of ordinary people. Most of the Playground’s elites walked over corpses, indifferent to the struggles of insignificant ants.
Her wariness and gratitude in her heart shifted further. Touched, she thought that since this "Narrator" had helped her so many times... perhaps she could risk trusting the kindness of a powerful stranger?
The bell tolled. At that moment, Luo Shengle received another guidance from the "Narrator."
Coming to her senses, she summoned a gust of wind without hesitation. The air swirled beneath the bell, striking it with force, and the ancient, resonant tolling of the bell suddenly rang out, carried farther and farther by the invisible wind.
"Dong— Dong—"
Players barely surviving in the instance simultaneously looked up, their gazes—some fearful, some hopeful—turning toward the distant black clock tower.
Everyone knew this signaled the instance was finally reaching its conclusion.
"Hahaha..." In a corner, a player mere inches away from a hunter's cane suddenly burst into mad laughter. "I survived! I survived!"
As his words faded, his figure gradually grew translucent, vanishing before the hunter's eyes.
The elderly hunter calmly retracted his cane, which had nearly pierced the player's skull, and doffed his hat toward the clock tower like a refined old gentleman.
"My homage—Master of Fate."
...
In an apartment near the university district, a door seemingly leading to endless darkness abruptly appeared, and Luo Shengle was ejected from it.
She couldn’t believe what kind of existence she had just encountered—after several life-saving favors, the "Narrator" had only asked for a hackneyed campus ghost story as compensation.
And she—she had actually told a story to an unknown, mysterious being. If word of this spread in the "Playground," it would be considered a tale worth telling...
Luo Shengle lay on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling for a while.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she leaped up and rushed to the neighboring apartment, knocking on the door.
"...Who is it?"
Luo Shengle faintly heard the young man’s lazy response, followed by footsteps. The door opened a crack, revealing a pair of sharp, dark eyes—pupils so deep they seemed to gaze into an abyss.
When they first met, Luo Shengle had always felt a chill when looking into Yi Fengchu’s eyes, as if doused in icy water. But over time, she had grown accustomed to it and could interact with him naturally.
"Senior Luo?" Yi Fengchu politely invited her inside, pouring her a glass of water while inwardly puzzled.
He had seen many reactions from people who narrowly escaped death and returned to reality, but none were like Luo Shengle’s...
She seemed almost exhilarated, even reliving the experience?
Luo Shengle moistened her dry lips with a sip of water and cautiously probed, "Xiao Yi, have you... experienced anything unusual lately?"
"..."
Yi Fengchu immediately understood the familiar opening line—she was probing whether he had entered the "Playground."
"Not really. What unusual things could happen at school?"
He feigned confusion, answering in a joking tone before casually mentioning the story Luo Shengle had just shared with him: "Unless you count the rumors about our school being haunted?"
Hearing his denial, Luo Shengle seemed to relax slightly before growing serious again. "Haunted? You should be careful. Stay away from ghost stories like that—who knows if they’re real?"
Luo Shengle thought that since the "Narrator" had acknowledged this urban legend, their school might actually have some paranormal activity...
Yi Fengchu paused, a strange sensation stirring in his chest. He hadn’t expected someone who had just narrowly escaped death to still have the energy to worry about others.
Was this what an exemplary citizen looked like?
Yi Fengchu studied Luo Shengle with newfound interest, mentally noting her behavior for future reference.
Outwardly, however, he chuckled lightly. "Senior, since when do you believe in this stuff? Every university has its urban legends—have any of them ever come true?"
At a loss, Luo Shengle couldn’t voice her concerns.
...No, their school might actually be haunted! The "Narrator" had acknowledged this legend—would He really accept a made-up story from her?
But Luo Shengle would never consider the possibility that the legendary "Narrator" knew her in real life—or that he had intentionally overlooked it.
Yi Fengchu, who knew the truth, simply smiled without a word.
Seeing his surface-level agreement, Luo Shengle sighed helplessly.
She thought that perhaps supernatural events were simply too far removed from ordinary people like Yi Fengchu.
How she missed the past, when she had been as happily oblivious as Junior Yi, living an ordinary, happy life...
As she bid Yi Fengchu goodbye, Luo Shengle mused wistfully in her heart.
The moment the door closed, Yi Fengchu pulled out his phone and logged into the players’ forum.
While the "Playground" system had its own forum, few dared to post anything beyond fawning posts under the watchful eyes of the deities. As a result, all real intel was exchanged in underground player forums.
To the uninitiated, this forum seemed like a gathering place for overimaginative teens. Occasionally, outsiders would browse before leaving with a mocking comment like, "You guys really commit to the bit."
Little did they know they had come close to a realm beyond ordinary comprehension.
This forum was Yi Fengchu’s guilty pleasure.
Human nature was endlessly fascinating, and in the high-stakes environment of the "Playground," the drama was more convoluted than any prime-time drama.
As usual, Yi Fengchu leisurely scrolled through gossip and arguments, savoring the chaos, when a post caught his eye.
"《Exposing the Power Players Saved by the Future Diary》... Isn’t that me? This new generation of players has guts—even the veterans wouldn’t openly discuss this before."
Intrigued, Yi Fengchu clicked in.
It was common knowledge that most deities could lock onto targets across time and space. Though many doubted the "Future Diary" had reached godhood, without concrete evidence, no one dared take action.
The nickname "Future Diary" might seem like a playful nickname, but it also served to avoid catching the notice of actual deities.
Yet openly discussing it like this still carried risks—proof of this post’s boldness.
>>Gods’ Playground>>Rumors Board>>Whisper Network
"Exposing" the Power Players Saved by the Future Diary
No.0 (Original Poster):
Has anyone in the Playground encountered the "Future Diary"?
No.1:
You’re really discussing Him here? OP, aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?
No.2:
Just a warning—the last person who speculated about a being of divine rank had their whole family cursed into insanity.
№3:
OP, this isn't the first time players have discussed the Future Diary, but it's definitely the first time someone's brought up those top players who were saved by it.
№4:
Those top players probably range from "Inquisitor" at base level to "Inquisitor" at peak, right?
If you're gonna dig into their experiences, OP, I suggest you change your ID first to hide your identity.
№5:
Dumb question, but what's an Inquisitor?
№6:
Oh, you don't even know that? Must be fresh meat. @Official Wiki
№7 Official Wiki:
In the Gods' Playground, no matter how skilled a player is, they're still at the bottom of the food chain. The truly powerful figures have already shed their player identities to become "Recorders," observing the state of various dungeons.
Those with deeper experience and greater strength may be chosen as "Inquisitors," who enforce the will of the gods and maintain the game's rules. This is usually the final tier for ordinary players.
№8 Official Wiki:
Only a select few (those blessed by the gods) are fortunate enough to advance further and become "Inquisitors." Most who hold this position are divine chosen, followers, or popes.
Reliable sources suggest that above "Inquisitors" lies an even more exclusive rank—"Constructors," apparently held by beings from the Realm of Reconstruction, responsible for constructing most ordinary dungeons.
Otherwise, did you think every dungeon was a complete, real world?
№9:
Thanks for the info. Sounds impressive, but feels way out of reach for a nooblet like me QAQ
……
№104 I'm Not a Big Shot (OP):
Anyway, we’ve gone off-topic. Back to the subject. Changed my ID, so I’ll share my own experience first. Just to clarify, I’m no top player—my encounter with that Future Diary was purely accidental.
The biggest impression it left on me? Spoilers. Relentless spoilers. Unlike Ability users from the Fate Domain, who can only vaguely sense the flow of fate, it could predict how many times you’d blink in the next minute.
And my takeaway? It was awesome. Like playing through a game with a guide—knowing every trap and plot point, so as long as you didn’t screw up, you wouldn’t die.
To avoid getting exposed, I won’t specify which dungeon it was. Let’s just say I’ve been scarred by Ability users from the Secrets Domain 🙂
№105:
If you know, you know. The Secrets Domain is terrifying. They can trace back to how many times you wet the bed as a kid from the tiniest clue. Who even does that??
№106:
Oof, upstairs. So what exactly did you go through?
№107 I'm Not a Big Shot (OP):
After beating the dungeon, time froze at that moment. It’s unreal—like the whole world froze around me. It demanded Urban Legends I’d personally experienced as payment.
Back then, I was still a rookie. What real local myths had I encountered? I tentatively shared an urban legend, mentally writing my will. To my surprise, it seemed entertained and let me live to tell the tale.
Looking back now, I’m truly grateful for its letting me go.
№108 I'm Not a Big Shot (OP):
Since we’re here to talk about top players, I won’t mislead anyone—after all, I’m no top player myself. As the Wiki said earlier, there are no real top players among players. The real ones have already moved beyond that.
But for safety’s sake, let me censor some details.
First up: Luo**, now promoted to Inquisitor, a believer in "*Twilight Origin*." Anyone running B-rank dungeons or higher should know her. Where she appears, cheaters get wrecked.
№109:
OP's actually doing this? Not afraid of dying?
№110:
OP, chill! We were drawn in by the title, but none of us actually expected much. No need to risk your life for gossip...
№111 I'm Not a Big Shot (OP):
Second: Ed*** Wol, leader of the Minstrel Guild, a Recorder who claims to worship the god "*Master of Winds*."
№112:
Conclusion: OP is a true warrior, daring to face the bloodshed head-on.
……
№233:
...Why did it save so many followers of other gods? Doesn’t it feel like a loss?
№234:
Is that the point? Still, it is odd—practically a divine do-gooder.
№235 I'm Not a Big Shot (OP):
Actually, this post isn’t just about sharing top players’ stories. It’s also to discuss who it really is and... its ultimate goal.
Most of those it saved have become legendary figures. Collecting such top players—can that really be a coincidence?
№236:
...This is getting tin-foil hat territory.
№237:
But it is sketchy.
Did it coincidentally save them, allowing them to grow? Or did it foresee their extraordinary futures and seek them out on purpose?
№238:
Hot take—when I first heard about it in the Amusement Park, I found it weird. Sure, clichés like "the top player was beside me all along" or "the mysterious god fell for me" are common in fiction, but in reality...
Let's be real, but those beings don't give two shits about us. Who’d spend their time tracking ants in the soil?
№239:
How could you say that (dog head)? At least humans and microorganisms coexist in the same dimension, but we and gods aren't even lifeforms of the same dimension (lol).
№240:
Looking at it this way, this guy really is suspicious—almost like a bored child poking at dirt with a stick.
№241:
Actually, I’ve always felt there’s a plot hole here: If that being can distinguish which urban legends are real, doesn’t that mean it already knows about them? Then why does it still ask players for them?
№242:
Maybe the urban legends are just an excuse? The real goal is to sneak into the Gods’ Playground…
№243:
Then it’s clearly already succeeded. Most big shots have received its favors, and this network… just thinking about it creeps me out.
№244:
The more you talk, the scarier it gets. What’s its endgame?
№245 Fate’s Musician:
All praise to our Lord!
№246:
Wait, did a weirdo just barge in? Is preaching allowed here??
№247:
Zealots, get back to your built-in forums!
№248:
+1
№249:
Save me
№250:
Save me
№251:
Entrance: Shadowbound Station, one-way ticket.
№252:
HELP ME NOW!!!
№253:
You freaked me out—what’s going on?
№254:
Check the profile—this is some foreigner. Why would they come to the Chinese section to ask for help? And in perfect Chinese, no less?
№255:
…Oh, if you hadn’t mentioned it, I’d have forgotten this is an international forum.
NGL, the international section is barely active.
№256:
This is sketchy… I just checked other threads, and now I’ve got chills…
№257:
+1. At the same time (note this), these four SOS messages appeared on every thread on the front page—even in other sections, and in different languages.
№258:
Based on my years of dealing with spooky crap in dungeons, whoever sent these isn’t human. The account owner is either a goner or close to it.
№259:
This thread’s content… is wild. The random cultist and SOS signals add an absurdist vibe.
№260:
Everyone, bounce. Bet this thread’s getting locked soon.
...
“What’s going on?” Yi Fengchu perked up, asking his phone, intrigued.
[Live Dungeon: “Nobles' War,” Rank: C+]
“Requirements: Before dawn, arrive at a foggy station with an expired one-way ticket and hop on a retro train not listed on the schedule. Any ticket works; any station.”
After a beat, the phone replied, “Those SOS messages were likely some dungeon entity fishing for players. You in?”
Yi Fengchu just smirked at the phone.
His smile said it all.