Chapter 77: A Cold, Suffocating, Deadly Embrace.

Chapter 77: A Cold, Suffocating, Deadly Embrace.

Xiao Luo hurriedly rushed into the residential building.

Though only a few steps away from Unit 102, her pace was agonizingly slow and heavy amid the rapid distortion of the instance world. Each step felt like sinking into a foul, viscous swamp, making progress arduous.

Behind her, even the sky had dissolved, revealing the dark, abyssal darkness beyond the world—as if the entire reality was collapsing into endless "black threads."

Worst of all, even this residential building was melting.

Ceilings, staircases, walls... everything sprouted vermicular black tendrils that instinctively attacked the only player present.

Xiao Luo dodged her gaze, avoiding direct eye contact with the eerie phenomena, but the threads were simply too numerous, invading her vision from every direction.

Upon closer inspection, she realized these threads were composed of coiling, pitch-black glyphs—obscure, incomprehensible characters that made her flesh crawl, as if she were staring at the most malevolent words in existence.

Xiao Luo recalled that one of the entities in this dungeon was called "The Father of Curses"... Was this the power of a curse?

A single glance sent a blunt trauma to her psyche. Her temples throbbed violently, and blood welled in her eyes. Yet, astonishingly, she retained shreds of coherence, even the capacity to think—something she found unbelievable.

Hysterical laughter even bubbled up within her, because she felt—

She had once faced something far more terrifying and vast than this.

That power belonged to...

To whom?

Biting through the skull-splitting pain in her head, Xiao Luo tried once more to chase that sense of familiarity, to recall fragments of the past.

Under the external stimulus, it was as if a dam in her subconscious had been flung open. Forgotten memories surged forth like a tidal wave, engulfing her consciousness.

She paused, finally remembering:

That power belonged to "Fate," to the great Mr. Narrator.

Just by comparing the consequences of gazing upon two deities, she could confirm that Mr. Narrator was undoubtedly stronger than the so-called Father of Curses.

This would be a battle with a near-predetermined outcome.

Xiao Luo—no, Luo Shengle—took a deep breath and intoned with reverence, "Praise the mercy and protection of Fate..."

In her vision, multiple system alerts cascaded in rapid succession, as if reflecting the cosmic struggle between deities.

[System Notification: You have gazed upon The Father of Curses and obtained the curse "Random Disease."]

[By the grace of the Lord of Fate, your Luck attribute has been greatly increased. The curse drawn is: Shedding one hair.]

[Your heresy and defiance have angered The Father of Curses!]

[You have been marked by The Father of Curses and obtained the following negative curses: "All Life is Suffering," "Destitution," "Separation from Kin," "Incurable Illness," "Impending Doom"...]

After listing a horrifying string of debuffs, the system paused briefly before adding:

[By the grace of the Lord of Fate, you have obtained the following blessings: "Curse Nullification," "Disease Dispelled," "Misfortune Averted"...]

Amid the endless curses, Luo Shengle's vision was nearly swallowed by darkness. Only the argent radiance radiating from the serpent child in her arms pierced through.

Like a beacon, it dispelled calamity, guided the way, and bestowed blessings upon its faithful.

[System: Congratulations! You have obtained the special title "Fortune's Favorite."]

[When you, favored by Fate, face critical choices, Fate will always stand by your side.]

[Special Effect: Luck attribute increase (limitless).]

[This title has been stored in your item log. Check details at your convenience...]

Under the luminous shield, Luo Shengle finally stepped safely into Unit 102.

The door to Unit 102 remained wide open, seemingly untouched by the maelstrom outside.

Noticing Luo Shengle's arrival, Grandma Li—unlike before—did not remain motionless with her back to the door. This time, she moved.

Slowly, she stood up. The air around her seethed with countless curses shackling her body, like thick black chains that occupied most of the room.

A few curses swayed perilously close to Luo Shengle's face, making her instinctively step back.

In that instant, Luo Shengle realized: Grandma Li hadn’t been unwilling to move earlier.

—She had been unable to.

This elderly woman seemed different from other NPCs Luo Shengle had encountered. She harbored no obsession with killing players; instead, she resembled a prisoner forever bound to the dungeon by invisible shackles.

Now, as the "prisoner" slowly straightened her posture, some of the curses restraining her snapped and dissipated.

Yet others burrowed into her aged, parchment skin like flesh-eating parasites, etching malicious curses into her very soul.

Beneath her exposed skin, dark sinuous sigils slithered like living shadows—the brand of curses.

Enduring the erosion of multiple curses, Grandma Li turned stiffly, her movements rigid, as if she were a thawing cadaver, exuding an aura of grave chill.

Luo Shengle didn’t know the specifics of the curses inflicted upon Grandma Li, but just seeing the "squirming curse-vermin" burrowing into her body made it clear they were far worse than what she herself had suffered.

Grandma Li’s face twisted stiffly, her milk-white dead eyes locking onto Luo Shengle’s direction.

Luo Shengle: ...!

Though somewhat prepared, she couldn’t help but recoil. Grandma Li’s appearance was...

The spitting image of a ghost from a horror movie.

Paired with her cardinal-red sweater—so vivid it seemed to drip—she looked like a specter among specters, making Luo Shengle balk at eye contact.

Just as her pulse hammered in her throat, the divine serpent child in her arms suddenly opened its eyes. Its gilded serpent orbs reflected the sweater’s scarlet glare.

Gazing calmly at the old woman, it hissed gently, though its words carried the weight of a command:

"Shield my believer in my stead."

The tone was divinely imperious, but Grandma Li knew better than anyone: When a deity issues an order, is it truly just an order?

This was a lifeline!

Grasp it tightly, and one could ascend to deliverance.

Thus, a rictus split across Grandma Li’s stiff, corpse-white visage. She wasn’t afraid of the deity’s command—she feared being ignored by it.

Thumping a fist against her breast, the old woman prostrated herself and declared with sincerity: "'Pallbearer' Li Lanyin, your humble instrument."

Upon their first encounter, she directly offered her title and true name as a sign of reverence and devotion to the deity before her.

The snake child gave a slight nod upon hearing this, then calmly closed its eyes, its body dissolved into shimmering starlight.

Silver motes of light gently dispersed and drifted downward, resembling a gentle snowfall within the room at first glance.

The "snowflakes" landed on Li Lanyin's skin, marked with curse-black patterns, silently merging into her flesh.

The curse-black threadworms squirming under her skin immediately twisted violently, as if encountering a natural predator.

Two forces clashed within Li Lanyin's soul, and the victor was clear—soon, the filthy black traces visibly disintegrated before Luo Shengle's eyes, and Grandma Li's skin returned to its cold, corpse-pale.

Indeed, among the gods, Mr. Narrator was clearly a powerful being...

Luo Shengle thought dazedly, only to hear the old woman's hoarse voice slowly speak: "The Father of Cursed Calamity is fleeing this place, so this world, sustained by His power, cannot last much longer. Soon, it will collapse into a void polluted by curse residue."

"How much longer until the system transports you back to your original world?"

Hearing Grandma Li speak so much for the first time, Luo Shengle immediately glanced at the System Panel.

Unlike the usual prompt teleportation, the system now displayed a slowly progressing progress bar, with a small line of text beneath it:

「Due to godly disruption, system teleportation coordinates are unstable. Please wait...」

Luo Shengle: "..."

She estimated the speed of the progress bar—about two seconds to move from "22%" to "23%."

This meant it would take at least another hundred and fifty seconds before the teleportation was complete.

If this were just a download speed in a computer game, Luo Shengle might have generously praised it as fast.

But in this life-or-death moment, with the dungeon world already crumbling at the edges, she could only seethe at the system for being unreliable!

Unable to hide her panic, she looked around and saw the entire world now covered in countless twisted black threads. Even the residential building must have long vanished, leaving only Room 102 still intact—likely due to Grandma Li's deliberate efforts to sustain it.

Yet despite her help, Luo Shengle could still see the walls trembling, thin as rice paper in the wind, growing lighter and more fragile.

She could already see through the paper-thin walls, where black threads dripping with slimy ooze lurked outside, twisting like starved serpents. Occasionally, they slapped against the walls, causing them to shudder violently.

The situation was dire. Luo Shengle answered rapidly, "The system's coordinates are unstable. It'll take nearly three more minutes."

"Three minutes," Grandma Li murmured, her milky eyes gazing beyond, as if deep in thought. "That should be enough..."

"By my lord's command, I will provide you shelter until you depart completely."

......

Countless black threads woven from swirling script danced wildly as the Father of Cursed Calamity frantically withdrew shards of His being and power from the dungeon.

Even if the "prison dungeon" and "demigod's domain" He had painstakingly built were now on the verge of collapse, He paid no heed, hellbent on escaping to another world.

He needed to find one far enough away, beyond Fate's sight...

'No, not enough!'

Some of the black threads trembled, their ends sprouting tiny, sawtoothed maws screeching, 'We must shift dimensions too!'

'The Third belongs to "Fate," the Sixth to "Misfortune"—absolutely avoid those...'

'Then, what of the Fourth? Would the Calamity Sovereign take me in?'

Having already devoured so many of His own followers and servants, the Father of Cursed Calamity's mind was already fractured.

Now, under the relentless, high-pressure torment inflicted by "Fate," His words grew increasingly disjointed and erratic, revealing a deeply unhinged side.

Thus, the black threads whipped in frenzied arcs even more chaotically, unfurling their massive forms across the dome of the small world, writhing and squirming unpredictably, shedding reeking black sludge that could drive any unfortunate witness to madness.

Each drop carried a horrific curse, scattering randomly in all directions—perhaps destined to land on some unsuspecting world one day, bringing god-wrought plagues, disease, and death...

"Truly like pitiful, maddened nightcrawlers."

Just as the Father of Cursed Calamity fully crossed the world's barrier, a voice laced with mocking glee sighed softly.

The Father froze for an instant before desperately recoiling.

Suddenly, He realized something was wrong—the death-trap must lie beyond the world's barrier! Survival screamed at Him to flee the source of danger!

But it was too late.

Countless slender serpents coiled around the flailing "black threads," their movements languid and lethal as they spiraled up, encircling the threads as if this were not a battle but a lover's clasp.

Only the Father of Cursed Calamity, ensnared within, knew how icy that embrace truly was.

The serpents' scales whispered against His limbs, dragging Him down as if into a lightless deep—

Lightless. Airless. Final.

An embrace singing His demise.

The serpents hiss-whispered softly by His ear, murmuring gently, "Why flee? Did you not seek the Scepter of Fate?"

"Now, have I not come as you wished, to honor our pact?"