Chapter 4: The Speculations of the Ability Management Bureau

Chapter 4: The Speculations of the Bureau of Ability Control

On one side, Yi Fengchu was eagerly preparing for his adventure;

On the other side, within the Bureau of Ability Control, a group of state-recruited Ability users sat around a conference table, flipping through the forum post with grave expressions.

Thanks to their enhanced physical abilities, they skimmed through the content in no time, setting their phones down one after another.

Director Luo cleared his throat and asked, "What are your thoughts on the content discussed in this post?"

Meng Siyou was the first to raise his hand. After receiving permission, he stood and reported, "Many here might still believe the 'Future Diary' is purely fictional. However, I have confirmed that It not only exists but has at least begun wielding the Domain of Fate..."

As soon as he finished speaking, the room erupted in expressions of shock or disdain. A few of his usual rivals visibly strained against rebuttal.

Ignoring the reactions, Meng Siyou took a deep breath and solemnly continued, "Just before Wen Sheng and I came to the meeting, we inadvertently attracted Its attention."

"The lab underwent anomalies within a minute—we witnessed countless possible futures. We speculate It is at least an Elder Entity of the Domain of Fate. The surveillance footage was instantly erased, but the energy resonance scanners can validate these readings."

Silence fell over the room.

All eyes turned to the middle-aged man mentioned, who nodded in confirmation.

"If what’s said on the forum is true, if It can indeed still time—" someone murmured in awe, "then It wields dual Authority over fate and time..."

Meng Siyou’s expression darkened. "The most terrifying part is, we don’t know if this is even Its limit."

"This is absurd..." another muttered dazedly. "Such a being just fixed Its awareness on us?"

After a long, oppressive hush, some began speculating on the deeper implications. "This being is the first deity to directly interact with us in reality. Is this a warning from the gods?"

—A warning against recklessly attempting to gather Their intelligence or decipher Their domains with human means.

A susurrus of speculation arose, an oppressive cloud hanging over them.

"Let’s not jump to pessimistic conclusions," Director Luo interjected, pointing at the forum projection on the wall. "Some speculate It might belong to a faction separate from the gods. That seems plausible."

The discussion continued for some time, with each Ability user sharing their experiences and theories about various instances. Half an hour later, the meeting adjourned.

As the room emptied, only Director Luo, Meng Siyou, and Wen Sheng remained.

Seemingly unsurprised, Director Luo sighed wearily. "You have more to report? About the 'Future Diary'?"

Meng Siyou nodded cautiously. "We not only confirmed one of Its twin dominions but also learned Its True Name—"

"That’s sufficient," Director Luo stayed his words, shaking his head. "I understand. Don’t speak it."

"Naming such entities is perilous to spread, no matter the method. Unless absolutely unavoidable, ensure no fourth person learns it. And try not to dwell on It yourselves."

He sighed again, adding kindly, "Visit Shen Yuan for a psychic evaluation when you can. Monitor yourselves closely and report any anomalies."

"Yes," Meng Siyou and Wen Sheng replied in unison, exchanging a glance filled with the helplessness of motes before the void.

Having drawn Its gaze, they were likely marked by that enigmatic being of fate. Their only recourse now was to contain the fallout among themselves.

...

"Midnight station, passengers of uncertain fate, mysterious distress signals..."

"This sounds like the setup of a horror movie!"

Yi Fengchu, an enthusiast of the supernatural, tapped his phone excitedly.

Words slowly appeared on the screen: "But this incident occurs in a live scenario of the Pantheon’s Arena, requiring a Divine Invitation to enter."

Aside from mandatory instances, the Pantheon’s Arena also offered voluntary live events—one-time events that diminished with every clearance. In theory, they were rare, but few players would willingly forgo recuperation to chase peril.

Entering a live scenario was simple: fulfill the trigger conditions and use the item "Divine Invitation."

As a C-grade bound artifact, the "Divine Invitation" was oddly abundant. Players could obtain several per instance, regardless of success, making them as common as scattered leaflets. Nearly every player had a stack in their inventory.

Unfortunately, Yi Fengchu wasn’t a player and never entered instances. His only hope was stumbling upon invitations dropped by unfortunate souls before they vanished post-death—requiring quick reflexes to snatch them via his phone’s telekinetic retrieval.

Yi Fengchu sighed. Lately, he hadn’t found any "Divine Invitations." Even if he were willing to risk his physical body diving into this mess, his phone wouldn’t allow it.

He knew full well that if his connection to the phone were discovered by players—or the "Playground"—he’d face pursuit or worse.

Still, his obsession with the paranormal was...

Well, more than just a little.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. Someone had picked up the "Future Diary."

Following the prompt, Yi Fengchu typed: "A hunter is behind you. Leave within ten seconds."

Yet the young man on-screen remained oblivious, repeating compulsive motions like stomping and rubbing his palms—signs of possible psychological fracturing. Anxiety twisted his pale, gloomy face. "Who are you? Why am I here? Is this a dream? No, I took my meds... Why am I hallucinating...?"

"It’s a dream, right? It has to be... I’ll wake up soon..."

Gnawing at his fingers, he tore jagged nails until blood seeped out, seemingly insensate to the pain as he uttered disjointed phrases.

Yi Fengchu was taken aback. This was the first time a completely uninitiated civilian had found the "Future Diary."

Though doubtful, he quickly typed a concise warning: "This is a real death game. Run!"

His uncharacteristic forbearance with this stranger was due to knowing that mere seconds on his end could mean life or death for the other.

Yi Fengchu had witnessed many climb to greatness, but far more were ordinary people struggling to survive. Some made it; others collapsed before him, their lifeless fingers still clutching their phones.

Experience had long stripped him of the naivety to save everyone he crossed paths with.

Failure and death were commonplace, but he couldn’t stop trying—even when hope was slim.

On-screen, the hunter had ghosted behind the young man, who remained oblivious—a marked quarry awaiting the trigger’s pull.

"Run! Run!"

"Warning: This isn’t a hallucination. Escape—"

The young man sluggishly glanced at the message, but his psychological fracturing barred comprehension. It was the last thing he ever saw.

"So cold... Why...?"

Before he could finish, rime blossomed on his lashes. Hoarfrost ascended from his feet, encasing his entire body in an instant.

Arrested mid-breath, he became a motionless effigy—lifeless—before collapsing with a crash, shattering into countless icy fragments.

After a player's death, their body is automatically sent back to the original world. So before long, even those inhuman fragments disappeared, leaving only a faintly luminous invitation letter behind.

With a slow sigh, Yi Fengchu skimmed the young man's profile with a regretful expression: 【Chu Fu, Player No. 4583. Ability "Undying Flame," currently Level 2, potential up to Level 8, unranked in fire-type abilities yet.】

A powerful flame-based ability... If he had survived, he could have had a decent future.

While Yi Fengchu remained silent, his phone automatically locked onto the invitation letter. A flash of light, and the item appeared right in front of him.

【C-grade item "Invitation of the Gods": Chosen ones, enter through me into the never-ending hall of revelry.】

"Usage: Break the wax seal, take out the envelope to enter the game, or use it to access a real-world dungeon."

Yi Fengchu absentmindedly rubbed the envelope—made from some unknown creature's hide—on which the invitee's name, "Chu Fu," was written in a strange, blood-red liquid.

"Chu Fu..." Yi Fengchu murmured the name. "May you never encounter the Gods' Amusement Park in your next life."

In truth, whether they were players, Inquisitors, or even the rarer Judges and Constructors, they were all the same in Yi Fengchu's eyes—poor souls cursed with the worst luck to be chosen by the Gods' Amusement Park.

"Entering this instance requires an 'expired ticket.' Does a stub count?"

After receiving confirmation, Yi Fengchu tore through his stuff before finally finding an old ticket stub from a trip with his mother years ago, tucked inside a photo album. He prompted his phone, "Check if there's a station nearby where night fog is forming."

The phone hesitated for a moment, seemingly reluctant to accompany him on this dangerous mission.

Only after being poked repeatedly by Yi Fengchu's expectant fingers did it slowly reply: "Binhai Station, 3.2 km from current location. Fog will form at 2:32 AM, connecting to the instance."

Yi Fengchu swiped back to the home screen and checked the time—8:47 PM. He decided to catch some quick shut-eye before heading out to investigate the station at night.

After setting an alarm for 1:00 AM, he cocooned himself in blankets, plugged in his phone, and habitually tucked it under his pillow. "Good night."

A while later, when Yi Fengchu was already sound asleep, a line of text quietly appeared on the phone's screen beneath the pillow: "Night."

About four hours later, the alarm rang.

"Bzzzt! Bzzzt!"

Groggily, Yi Fengchu emerged from his blanket, pulled his phone from under the pillow, and slammed the snooze button on the blaring alarm.

He hastily threw a black trench coat over his white shirt, stuffed his phone into his pocket, and headed out.

At first, Yi Fengchu tried to hail a taxi, but in the middle of the night, no one else around the student dormitory was as crazy as him, deliberately seeking thrills. The streets were empty—no cars, no people.

In the end, he had no choice but to walk.

The journey was eerily silent. Yi Fengchu followed his own elongated shadow under the streetlights. After about half an hour, he suddenly noticed the temperature dropping sharply around him. A chilling fog thickened before parting to the sides like stage curtains being pulled open.

Staring at the silent train station ahead, looming in the darkness like a slumbering beast, Yi Fengchu blinked in confusion. "I thought... Binhai Station was a bus stop?"