Chapter 8: The Three-Eyed Fish

Chapter 8 The Three-Eyed Fish

Before receiving the system notification, Luo Shengle was sitting in front of her computer, searching for information related to the "Gods' Playground."

Following the trail of breadcrumbs, she found a player-run forum for the amusement park, answered a few questions that only players would know, and successfully registered an account.

Temporarily refraining from binding any personal information, Luo Shengle used this newly created fresh account to browse through the forum.

Hmm, it was divided into International and Chinese sections, with the latter being far more active. The Chinese section was further split into "Gossip," "Casual Chat," "Team Recruitment," "Trading," and "Bounty" boards...

Luo Shengle quickly grasped the forum's general structure and rules, organizing the information systematically in her mind.

Next, she browsed through some posts discussing the "Future Diary" and noticed that descriptions of the "Narrator" were highly contradictory, clearly a mix of truth and fiction.

In the most widely accepted version among players, the mysterious phone was portrayed as a cold, powerful, and mischievous superior, watching people struggle for survival through the screen and occasionally granting favors when the spectacle proved entertaining enough.

"Like rewarding a good show..." Luo Shengle muttered the players' speculation, without comment.

Honestly, she didn’t care why the Narrator had helped her—she only knew that despite never meeting, it had unquestionably saved her life.

Luo Shengle wouldn’t easily drop all her defenses, but she would also remember this kindness and keep it close to her heart.

If given the chance, she would gladly repay the mysterious benefactor without compromising her principles... though given her current capabilities, she probably couldn’t be of much help anyway.

At this thought, Luo Shengle shrugged with wry resignation before continuing to scroll through the posts.

The further she read, the more paranoid the players' theories became, leaving her both surprised and puzzled.

Were these people really sure that the Narrator, who used a phone as a communication tool, wouldn’t one day discover this forum on a whim?

Just then, the computer screen suddenly blacked out.

Luo Shengle was about to get up and check the cables when the screen came back on, displaying a line of crooked, childish scrawl, as if a toddler had painstakingly scrawled it onto the screen: "Entering the instance in one hour. Please prepare, player."

Even after experiencing this more than once, the sudden and eerie notification still made Luo Shengle profoundly unsettled.

It made painfully clear that the boundary between her daily life and the "Amusement Park" was blurring—that her peaceful, ordinary existence had already been invaded...

Frowning, Luo Shengle averted her gaze and quickly closed the page.

She changed into workout clothes, packed a lightweight hiking bag with essentials like a flashlight, power bank, and bottled water, then set up a timed email on her computer.

Time flowed differently inside and outside the instance. No matter how long passed within, the real world would never exceed twelve hours—so if she failed to return within that timeframe, this email would serve as her last message, automatically sent to her loved ones.

The clock ticked away, and soon, an hour had passed. Behind Luo Shengle, a door embedded with countless shimmering stars suddenly appeared, its corners slowly streaming swirling nebulae—absurd, beautiful, and eerie.

Gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, Luo Shengle stepped through the unknown door without hesitation.

The moment her foot crossed the threshold, she felt as if she had stepped onto a wisp of cloud, her vision exploding into a burst of colors like watercolors bleeding into water.

When her sight cleared, Luo Shengle found herself standing on solid ground before a sleek, modern minimalist silver-white building. The open doors bore an inscription on either side: "Whalebone Aquarium—Presenting the Ocean as It Truly Is."

The system’s cold voice announced: "Welcome to B-Rank instance 'Whalebone Aquarium.' Good luck."

"Instance Introduction: This is a celebrated aquarium with nearly a century of history, named after the colossal whale bones from the deep sea that were its first exhibits. Unfortunately, in recent years, frequent disappearances have caused attendance to plummet, much to the great distress of the staff."

"Some say the aquarium is under a terrible curse."

"Mission 1: Survive inside the aquarium for three days to leave the instance."

"Mission 2 (Side): Can you hear the lost child crying for its mother? If possible, quiet the persistent crying and lift the shadow hanging over the aquarium."

Luo Shengle noticed a bright red three-minute countdown in the top-right corner of her vision and immediately understood it was the system’s way of pushing her to enter the aquarium.

It seemed the "three days" requirement strictly meant staying inside the building continuously—no loopholes.

Coinciding with the Whalebone Aquarium’s centennial celebration, Luo Shengle took advantage of the free entry (no ID or tickets required) and blended into the crowd pouring inside.

In the lobby, a tour guide was speaking through a microphone, allowing Luo Shengle to learn more about the aquarium’s history:

"The Whalebone Aquarium before you was founded a century ago by a retired seafarer—a wealthy and courageous gentleman who conquered the waves. On his final voyage, he discovered an unusually massive whale bone."

"And that is the origin of the aquarium’s name. To this day, even though this valuable exhibit is no longer on public display, even though the building has undergone multiple renovations, it still retains this enigmatic name."

"The aquarium is divided into Hall A and Hall B, with Hall B currently under reconstruction and thus closed. Next, I’ll guide you through Hall A, where you’ll discover the wonders and beauty of the ocean..."

After listening for a while and learning nothing more useful, Luo Shengle quietly broke away from the group to explore on her own.

Due to the side mission, she paid special attention to any children she encountered but found none fitting the description of the lost child.

The system’s tasks were never that simple—if it were just about reuniting a lost child with its family, it wouldn’t have been listed as a side mission...

Luo Shengle mused idly, without disappointment or discouragement.

Passing through the well-lit, spacious lobby, she entered Hall A’s corridor. The hallway flowed in gentle waves, its ceiling and walls seamlessly connected, allowing colorful schools of fish to swim freely just beyond a glass barrier above visitors’ heads.

Light filtered through the rippling water, casting shifting patterns onto the crowd, as if the very air had been painted with a shimmering watery light. It created the illusion of walking through an undersea world.

No wonder the aquarium was crowded—its design truly had a unique beauty.

Even Luo Shengle felt her guard lower slightly, her steps slowing as she carefully studied the displayed fish.

She had little knowledge of marine life, but she was certain many of these species didn’t exist in the world she grew up in:

At the very least, she had never seen a fish with a row of fingers growing from its gills, undulating in the water alongside its fins;

Or a slender fish streaking past, its body covered in what she initially mistook for silver scales—until she looked closer and realized they were countless serrated, bone-white teeth densely packed across its body, like blooming flowers made of metal...

But what disturbed Luo Shengle most was a scaleless fish with three eyes arranged in a triangle on its face.

Through the glass, she met its gaze for two seconds and was startled to see it had thick eyelashes—even blinking at her humanely. Its pitch-black pupils stared unblinkingly, sending chills down her spine.

Those three eyes... were far too human-like.

Yet their gaze was hollow and dark, unlike a person’s—or even a living creature’s—giving Luo Shengle an uncanny sense of something both human and not.

After circling the area, Luo Shengle memorized the aquarium’s general layout. As the sun dipped westward and evening approached, the crowd thinned.

Watching the dwindling visitors, Luo Shengle frowned, staring absently at the glass.

She felt like she was missing something...

A growing unease settled in her chest, like a lump she couldn’t swallow or spit out.

"What am I overlooking?" she murmured, pressing her hand against the cold glass, hoping the chill would steady her thoughts.

Just then, words slowly formed on the glass beside her hand, the silver script bleeding into the water as if an invisible hand were leisurely writing from the other side:

"Attention: time."

Luo Shengle jolted suddenly, clearly startled. She glanced around to confirm no one had noticed this corner then whispered tentatively, "M-Mr. Narrator?"

"Yes."

The word paused for a second before being swiftly erased, replaced by neatly written words: "The aquarium has closing hours. You're running out of time."

Closing? Luo Shengle froze momentarily before it hit her.

Right—she had unwittingly overlooked the most fundamental rule: she couldn't leave the aquarium for three whole days.

But the aquarium would eventually close, which meant that with her visitor's pass, she'd be kicked out at closing...

"Thank you for the reminder!"

A weight off her shoulders, and her tone brightened. "I'll find a way to get a different identity that allows me to stay inside long-term."

What identity would work?

Luo Shengle's gaze swept the surroundings before landing on a hurrying aquarium employee...

Or more precisely, on the black uniform and employee badge they wore.