Chapter 64: The Pallbearer

Chapter 64 The Pallbearer

"...And in the future, He is destined to become the Master of Fate..."

The voice of "Mom" echoed clearly through the phone's speaker in the room before silence returned.

Yi Fengchu remained silent for a moment before suddenly letting out a cold laugh.

Even though he still didn’t fully understand what he truly was, even though he couldn’t yet completely control his domain like the other True Gods, when he heard the Father of Curses secretly spreading declarations of usurpation, an inextinguishable rage rose within him.

It was a profound sense of violation, as if something that belonged to him was being coveted and encroached upon.

And when Yi Fengchu was displeased, he couldn’t help but want to make others miserable—especially the fake "Luo Shengle," who was closely tied to the Father of Curses.

At this moment, "Luo Shengle" was pacing anxiously in the next room, completely hopeless.

It had dealt with Bryce before and knew that once traces of him appeared in its memories, it was permanently marked by him.

In the past, when it was in its prime as an Apostle of the Father of Curses, it could still use its own power to erase such anchoring marks. But now, it could barely protect itself and was completely powerless against Bryce.

This was also why "Luo Shengle" stayed within the apartment building without even attempting to escape.

—Because it knew all too well that, given the overwhelming power difference, neither escape nor resistance held any meaning.

No matter where it fled, if Bryce willed it, he could take root in its memories like invasive gray thorns, sprouting, growing, and appearing before it in an instant.

Moreover, behind Bryce stood that newly ascended deity of Fate...

Even if there were a way to evade Bryce, fate was omnipresent—how could it possibly escape?

Just as "Luo Shengle" was bemoaning its awful luck, it felt another itch deep within its consciousness, as if fingernails lightly scraped across its brain, and something rustled awake.

Familiarity bred ease. "Luo Shengle" immediately looked back and saw Bryce in its memories once again gaining consciousness, his blood-red eyes slightly curved as he gazed at it gently.

"...Apostle, is there something you need from me again?"

It forced a smile, its tone verging on fawning.

"Praise the great Fate," Bryce began with the typical opening of a devout believer before continuing in a calm yet unyielding tone, "My Lord wishes for you to recount everything about the Father of Curses, as well as all the details of your years of confinement within the instance."

"Y-yes..."

"Luo Shengle" maintained its fake smile, but its brows involuntarily furrowed, its eyes flashing with unmistakable fear.

The two thousand years under the Father of Curses might as well have been two hundred million years—every second had felt like an eternity.

Though it had temporarily escaped Him now, the lingering terror and hatred in its heart remained unforgettable... Being forced to recall every detail and recount them truthfully was anything but pleasant.

Bryce saw the bitterness behind its smile but felt considerably cheered.

Heh, if he wasn’t happy, then the former enemy certainly wouldn’t be either!

After collecting its thoughts for a moment, "Luo Shengle" spoke in a heavy tone:

"The Father of Curses... I suspect He has gone insane."

"Though He was never exactly glorious or benevolent, in recent years, He has stopped concealing His shameless cruelty..."

The true form of "Luo Shengle" was also a divine entity that had ascended from a regular sentient being.

Unfortunately, because it was born within the Curse Domain, the moment it first achieved divinity at Rank 8 and qualified as a demigod, it caught the attention of the Father of Curses, who controlled the Curse Domain.

Among deities, the Father of Curses was not only one of the most junior of the new gods but also among the weakest in power.

Considering that He couldn’t even fully control "curses"—and that His power was stolen from the Goddess of Misfortune—the Father of Curses had a terrible reputation among divine beings.

Rather than serving this false god who could fall at any moment, most divine beings preferred to align themselves with the proper True Gods.

Thus, at that time, the Father of Curses was desperately short of followers, and "Luo Shengle" was unlucky enough to enter His sight.

"By the gods! I originally intended to swear allegiance to True Gods like 'Misfortune' or 'Death'! Any of them would have been a better choice than the Father of Curses!"

"Especially back then, His followers, the Curse-Worms, had just been wiped out by your mentor. What value was there in serving a false god who couldn’t even protect His own followers?"

At this point, "Luo Shengle" grew indignant, its tone unconsciously rising: "But He exploited His position as my superior in the same domain, hissing in my ear day after day, using both brainwashing and curses... In the end, I had no choice but to submit and serve Him."

"At first, it was just a matter of all work and no rewards, but it was still bearable... until the last few centuries..."

"Luo Shengle" suddenly paused, its pupils contracting slightly as if recalling something truly horrifying.

"In the last few centuries, He seemed to grow more unhinged—He began killing all His servants, followers, and believers without reason."

Consuming underlings—even one’s own kin—wasn’t uncommon among other deities, but those acts were built upon their unshakable foundations.

For the Father of Curses, who was already weak and surrounded by internal and external threats, to start severing His own support...

It could only be seen as the death throes of madness.

He was like a cornered gambler, throwing everything in one last reckless bet, choosing between death and victory.

"And so, my predecessor—the previous Apostle of the Father of Curses—and I were both imprisoned in an instance."

"That instance was named 'Old Photo Album.' Everything inside, from the scenery to the rules, would transform based on the memories of those who entered."

"Deadly curses hid within seemingly mundane 'common sense,' gradually replacing and reshaping the players’ sense of self until they were fully consumed..."

"Honestly, I think that instance was like His stomach, digesting all life within it..."

Bryce remained silent for a moment before pressing further: "The previous Apostle of the Father of Curses was also inside?"

"Yes. I don’t know what she did to anger Him, but she was laden with curses and restraints—her situation was even worse than mine..."

"You’ve probably heard of her."

After a pause, it spoke a name in Chinese: "The Pallbearer of the Death Domain—Li Lanyin."

......

After dinner, "Mom" began clearing the table, taking the plates to the kitchen where the sound of running water washed away the grease.

Amid the faint scent of detergent, Xiao Luo, looking for an excuse to go out, volunteered to take out the kitchen waste, earning another round of grateful praise from "Mom."

Meanwhile, "Dad" remained motionless in the shadows, his figure like a silent, hulking mass.

He watched as his wife busied herself in the kitchen and as Xiao Luo dragged a black garbage bag nearly half her height past him with great effort, yet he made no move to help—the toil of his family seemed forever unable to reach his stitched-shut ears, and he simply accepted their service as a matter of course.

This filled Xiao Luo with a mix of mockery and relief: after all, the chance to act alone was exactly what she needed most right now.

The hallway was lined with tightly shut doors, and under the flickering motion-activated lights overhead, they looked like upright coffin lids—cold, lifeless, completely lacking any trace of living warmth.

Xiao Luo strained to haul the trash bag downstairs and heaved it into the dumpster, then paused outside Unit 102, too afraid to enter.

She noticed that those red cloth shoes she had placed by the door earlier had reappeared in the hallway—and this time, they had moved up one step, like... they were climbing the steps, slowly making their way upward.

Upstairs...

Xiao Luo's spine turned to ice.

Because after she had placed the shoes, she had also walked upstairs; at that time, out of fear, she'd white-knuckled the right-hand railing, and her footsteps had probably landed right where the shoes were now positioned.

Were these red cloth shoes... following her?

The hallway lights were motion-activated, and as Xiao Luo stood frozen, the lights cut out abruptly.

The darkness swallowed her whole like a burial shroud, whatever lurked in that blackness making her shudder. She frantically stomped her foot to reactivate the lights.

With a faint buzz, the lights buzzed back to life—

This time, the red shoes had somehow moved up yet another step.

They looked alive, the bright red fabric glaring under the dim yellow light, blood-red and unnatural, a red that hurt to look at.

Every nerve told Xiao Luo that if she wanted to get what she was searching for from Grandma Li, she had to deal with the red shoes first.

Otherwise, they'd creep up during the dark moments between the motion-activated lights, step by step, climbing to the fourth floor, planting themselves outside her "home's" door... or even by her bedside.

Xiao Luo glanced back at Unit 102. Grandma Li remained motionless inside, her sweater the same blood-red as the shoes, equally eerie in its crimson hue.

"Gr-Grandma Li," Xiao Luo swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly, "your shoes... they’ve been left in the hallway again..."

Grandma Li didn’t respond, leaving just a stiff, dead-still shadow.

Xiao Luo recalled that when she had last returned the shoes to Grandma Li’s door, the old woman had—actually spoken—just once—to her:

‘...No, they shouldn’t be placed here.’

‘Not there, my...’

What had Grandma Li been trying to tell her?

What did the red shoes mean for Grandma Li?

At the time, Xiao Luo had been too consumed by fear to listen carefully. Now, she kicked herself for it—she should have seized that rare moment when Grandma Li seemed willing to communicate!

Anything would be better than this terrifying uncertainty...

Unable to stomach staring at Grandma Li’s back, Xiao Luo slipped into the dead space under the stairs and opened the forum to ask for advice.

She knew all too well that, with her third-grader's understanding, guessing in the dark got her nowhere. Seeking guidance from the more experienced adult players on the forum might yield some answers.

Almost immediately, a reply came, responding to her description with a theory—

「Red cloth shoes... in daily life, it’s rare to see elderly people wearing such brightly colored shoes. Black or dark blue would be their usual choice.」

「So red cloth shoes usually appear only in special contexts: first, for celebrations, symbolizing joy and prosperity—for happy occasions—which this definitely wasn't; second, for funerals, as cherished burial items to accompany the deceased peacefully.」

Xiao Luo went cold. Could Grandma Li have been trying to say—‘my burial items’?

And burial items shouldn’t be left in the hallway or by the door—where should they be placed?

Xiao Luo murmured the answer: "Burial items should be placed... in the coffin..."

Then where would Grandma Li’s coffin be?

—Undoubtedly in her pitch-black, unlit room, black as a sealed coffin.