Chapter 72: Little E is Proliferating

Chapter 72 Little E Multiplies

"Is the elevator before you the correct one?"

The infantile voice, sharply contrasting with the deity's usual calm and detached tone, made Xiao Luo pause mid-step, her foot frozen mid-air.

She suddenly remembered a rule she had once noted pre-amnesia—

"*When going to school, always take the right floor and classroom, and pay attention to the elevators! Never, ever step into the nonexistent elevator!*"

Xiao Luo slowly withdrew her foot, her gaze sweeping around as she carefully observed the interior of the elevator.

Now that she was paying attention, she quickly noticed numerous anomalies:

For instance, in her memory, the elevator buttons had always been on the right, with a PSA poster hanging on the left.

But the elevator before her had the buttons on the left and the poster on the right—even the text on the poster was reversed, as if mirrored.

Moreover...

Xiao Luo’s eyes drifted downward, landing on the elevator floor. Her pupils contracted sharply as a chill shot up from her feet.

Though the elevator was empty, the mirror-like marble floor reflected countless shadows—ghostly pale, faceless children packed like sardines, crammed inside the elevator.

Xiao Luo jerked her head up and recoiled several steps.

Though she could only see their reflections, she could vividly imagine the children standing just beyond the metal door, staring blankly at her, perhaps even eagerly awaiting her entry to join them forever...

"*Bzzzt... Elevator going up.*"

After a tense standoff of over ten seconds, the announcement crackled with strange static as the metal doors slowly closed before her.

On the floor display beside the elevator, crimson numbers began flickering—

1, 2, 3...

At first, the speed and floors seemed normal. But after passing the seventh floor—the highest in the school building—the numbers continued climbing, faster and faster, like a madly pulsating blood-red heart.

15, 16, 17... 18!

The display froze at "18," the number shockingly red, burning into Xiao Luo’s terror-constricted pupils.

She thought—*They say hell has eighteen layers. If I had stepped inside without realizing... would I have been taken straight to hell?*

*If not for Mr. Narrator’s warning, the consequences would have been unthinkable... Thankfully, like His descendant Junior Yi, He is a benevolent presence!*

Xiao Luo exhaled shakily, her voice trembling as she spoke, "Thank you for the warning. Praise benevolent Fate!"

Were Mr. Narrator's avatar to permit it, she would have reverently cradled the bag with both hands, lifting it high like a holy diadem.

But she suppressed the impulse almost immediately, sensing intuitively that Mr. Narrator would likely dislike such a flamboyant gesture... It would just look silly.

After the elevator incident, Xiao Luo developed a temporary aversion to uncontrollable enclosed spaces.

Even the long flight of stairs now seemed welcoming in comparison.

*Just five floors? She could climb that! Call it exercise!*

By the time Xiao Luo finished lugging the bag up five flights, found her Grade 3 Class 5 classroom, and polished off her breakfast at her desk, there were only five minutes left before class.

The classroom chatter gradually died down as the teacher took their place at the podium, awaiting the bell.

Xiao Luo hurriedly prepared her books, focusing on the upcoming lesson.

So she didn’t notice the black bag beside her seat shifting slightly, undulating strangely as if something inside was growing limbs and stretching.

Within the bag, the flesh orb that had once been "Little Sister" was now taking form—torso, limbs, neck, and the beginnings of a head—as though the black bag were a womb, its light-blocking fabric shrouding a dark, womb-like darkness where an infant was forming.

The orb's pinkish tint faded, replaced by the delicate newborn flesh, interspersed with patches of fine serpent scales, like the unshed skin of a young snake.

All these changes progressed unnoticed in the corner. Xiao Feng curled up, developing steadily.

After an immeasurable time, a pair of eyes finally formed in the right places—gilded eyes that glowed in the dark, their slitted pupils shifting as they scanned beyond the bag.

*Hmm... Now that I have a humanoid form, perhaps I can move around the school independently.*

...

When the class bell rang, Xiao Luo glanced down and was startled to find the bag’s zipper inexplicably open.

Considering the avatar’s voice and size, a panic like a missing child surged in her.

She couldn't comprehend how such a tiny ball had managed to unzip the bag—or how it planned to navigate outside.

*Mr. Narrator could have just asked her to carry Him... No, wait—she should say, as His devout instrument.*

Driven by a childish third-grader’s impulse, Xiao Luo crouched beside her seat and whispered cautiously into the air, "Mr. Narrator... Mr. Narrator?"

Yi Fengchu, who had deliberately turned His attention upon hearing His name: "..."

*I don't sprout from the earth—why is my senior searching for me like this?!*

A resigned sigh echoed directly in Xiao Luo’s mind: "I’m here. But unless necessary, do not summon Me lightly."

Xiao Luo immediately realized her foolishness and ducked her head in embarrassment. "Ah... R-right, understood!"

Fortunately, the deity did not reprimand her momentary lapse, His demeanor remaining patient and forgiving, as if indulging a childish junior.

Xiao Luo relaxed. *Perhaps, to Mr. Narrator, I really am just the neighbor’s kid playing with His child...*

*Who would’ve thought I’d one day bask in Junior Yi’s—ahem—Young Master Yi’s reflected glory?*

As Xiao Luo reflected happily about life's simple blessings...

...The teacher who had just returned to the office after class was overcome with terror.

During the lesson, the teacher had felt something cold slithering up its legs and spine.

The thing was sinuous, its tail undulating like a fish’s, until it settled over its shoulders.

The sensation was so vivid that it couldn’t be imaginary.

Yet the students below the podium remained oblivious, as if no one could see the thing on its back.

It had repeatedly dropped the textbook, reaching behind to grasp at the phantom presence—only to swipe at nothing every time.

As if a child's shrill laughter sounded right behind its ear, the voice childish yet the breathing steady and calm, more like an adult chuckling leisurely.

What on earth was that... clinging to its shoulder?

Teacher Zheng was a monster designed to kill players, yet this was its first encounter with something it couldn't comprehend, the first time it felt a deep, bone-penetrating fear.

For a moment, it shuddered at this unknown terror, too distracted to even harass Xiao Luo, just going through the motions until the bell rang.

Normally, Teacher Zheng would linger reluctantly after class, regretting not catching the player breaking the rules—so it could grind its teeth and feast on blood.

But today, it bolted like its feet were on fire, almost eagerly fleeing the classroom.

A mirror—it had to see a mirror!

That was the only thought left in its mind.

Without even waiting to return the books to the office, it rushed into the restroom next door and stood before the mirror, lifting its head.

There, a plump infant arm rested on its right shoulder, wrinkling the dark fabric of its jacket, while a slender snake tail coiled around its left shoulder.

The snake's scales were delicate and soft, and even through the fabric, Teacher Zheng could feel their cold, smooth touch.

What kind of monster was this?

How had it not known that such a half-human, half-snake creature with eerie abilities had emerged in the school?

Paralyzed with panic, it froze—then saw in the mirror a silver-white head peek out from behind it.

The infant's skin was white, its scales white, even its fluffy baby hair and eyelashes silver-white, catching the light with a metallic gleam, as if carved from ice.

Only its eyes differed—golden snake eyes, the pupils pure black and slit vertically like fissures holding mystery and despair.

Teacher Zheng stared at the mirror for a few seconds before a scream threatened to erupt from its throat—it wasn't exactly the fighting type. Only by calling for backup could it survive this unknown threat!

But the snake tail on its shoulder was faster.

The tail lashed through the air in a silvery blur, swiftly wrapping around its neck, constricting, crushing...

Like an executioner's noose, silently delivering death.

Instinctively, Teacher Zheng clawed at its neck, but the snake tail’s grip was unyielding. It could only watch in the mirror as its own eyes bulged, mouth gaping, face turning from red to ashen, like cooled ashes.

A few drops of blood splattered onto the mirror, soon sliding down the smooth surface into the sink below, disappearing down the drain.

Moments later, Teacher Zheng stopped struggling entirely.

Its body teetered but didn't fall, instead freezing in an odd posture—legs limp, shoulders and neck arched backward—as if held upright by unseen hands.

Then, from the half-human, half-snake infant, emerged a finger-thin snake, slowly creeping into Teacher Zheng’s bulging eye.

After faint rustling sounds, its stiff body gradually relaxed. He stood naturally, washed the blood from its face in the mirror, and smiled.

He adjusted the snake-infant on its shoulder, letting its other self perch comfortably, then picked up the books and pushed open the office door, striding inside.

"...Teacher Zheng, your neck," a colleague glanced up, hesitating as they gestured around their own neck, "what happened to your neck?"

"Those look like fingernail scratches, deep enough to draw blood... Did the students misbehave today?"

Yi Fengchu met the colleague’s gaze, and in that instant, they inexplicably felt a chill, involuntarily recoiling.

"It’s nothing," Yi Fengchu chuckled, answering casually. "I scratched myself. Just an itch."

"Oh... okay, as long as you're fine."

The colleague nodded hastily, not daring to press further.

—If it was self-inflicted, under what circumstances would someone claw such deep, chaotic gashes into their own neck?