[“Miss, congratulations on successfully completing another game world.”]
Upon entering the gray mist space, Gu Jiu was greeted by System No. 387’s cheerful and lively voice.
Gu Jiu, however, seemed somewhat weary as she replied, “Cut the chatter and tally up my points first.”
The little metallic sphere floated over, circling her a few times before asking with concern, [“Miss, are you alright?”]
“Three days without a decent meal, having to face a disgusting creature constantly jumping out at me, and not getting a single wink of sleep last night… Tell me, how do you think I am?”
System No. 387 was at a loss for words.
As the player’s system assistant, it couldn’t accompany the player into the game world, but it was well aware of everything that had happened to her there. The environment in this instance had indeed been rather grim, with an ogre landlord who seemed to tick off every one of her dislikes. It was no wonder she wasn’t in the best of spirits.
Not daring to delay any further, System No. 387 quickly began tallying her points.
[“Congratulations to Player Gu Jiu on clearing the ‘Seven Sheep’ instance.”]
[“Now calculating points earned in this game instance.”]
[“Player Gu Jiu earned 1,500 points in the ‘Seven Sheep’ instance, meeting the requirement to purchase items from the instance.”]
[“Item 1: Ghost Talisman – can control one D-rank ghost. Each talisman costs 300 points.”]
[“Item 2: Summoning Talisman – can summon a D-rank ogre for battle. Each talisman costs 1,500 points.”]
Seeing the two items displayed, Gu Jiu was completely uninterested.
She rubbed her forehead, saying, “What kind of trash items are these? Is this game out to scam players? Can’t it offer something better?”
System No. 387 timidly explained, [“Miss, these items were generated naturally within the instance, not something the game interfered with. Since this instance had an ogre and vengeful spirits theme, the items reflect that. They’re actually quite useful! Players can use ghosts to assist them in instances or summon an ogre to fight. You saw how strong the ogre was; it’s powerful enough to be useful even in C-rank arenas…”]
Then, the system went on to explain the source of items in the game shop.
All items are self-generated by the rules of each game instance. Various conditions, such as the environment, creatures, special items, and the instance’s rules, all contribute to item creation.
For example, in the “Caged Bird” instance, a large number of blood roses had been planted around the mansion, so blood roses became an item.
In the case of “Seven Sheep,” the environment had been too poor to meet the conditions for more item generation, so the items created were based on ghosts and ogres.
Gu Jiu listened quietly. Once System No. 387 finished its explanation, she murmured thoughtfully, “So, the purpose of these interdimensional games having players enter instance worlds isn’t just for players to get stronger and survive. It’s also a way for the game to acquire items, right?”
System No. 387 replied, [“That… seems to be the case…”]
The system felt a desperate urge to cover its face and cry. The young lady was peeling back layer after layer, and it felt like she would soon strip the game of all its mysteries.
Gu Jiu chuckled softly, rubbing the metallic sphere between her fingers as she said, “Alright then, send me to Boundless City.”
[“Miss, aren’t you going to buy any items?”] System No. 387 asked in surprise. She had earned the highest points again this time, plus an additional 300 bonus points from the game—was she really not going to spend any?
“No,” Gu Jiu replied flatly. “I don’t need either of those items.”
Remembering how she had cleared the dungeon, System No. 387 had to admit she was right.
She didn’t need the Ghost Talisman at all; she could control those spirits easily enough without it. And as for summoning an ogre? Given her distaste for ogres, there was no way she’d call one to assist her in battle.
Not daring to persuade her further, System No. 387 transported her to Boundless City.
Once there, Gu Jiu looked up at the brilliant stars above Boundless City, then down at the sunlight streaming across her. She couldn’t help but sigh.
No matter how many times she saw it, Boundless City always felt magical—a city in the void, able to welcome beings from across the three thousand worlds.
Gu Jiu stood lazily by the street, unmoving.
[“Miss, aren’t you going to rest?”] System No. 387 asked cautiously.
“I’m waiting for Ah Ji,” Gu Jiu replied, unusually chatty. “What about you? Don’t you have other players to look after?”
[“I’m a system assistant. I can talk with hundreds of players at once. Keeping you company doesn’t interfere… Besides, I want to stay with you,”] System No. 387 mumbled.
Gu Jiu chuckled.
If it were human, System No. 387 felt its face would have turned bright red at that moment. Did she not like her system assistant showing a little affection?
“Are you indirectly admitting that you’re juggling hundreds of players, you noob system?”
System No. 387 almost exploded, raising its small voice. [“That’s just a figure of speech! I’m not that bad! I only have ninety-nine players.”]
Gu Jiu gave a curious hum. “Didn’t you say last time that I was your 101st player? How did it drop to ninety-nine?”
[“Because some players died in the game world,”] System No. 387 said wistfully.
[“In the past half month, several new players have died here. If not for a few newcomers joining, the number would be even smaller…”]
Gu Jiu fell silent.
She’d talked about this with Fatty and the others; she knew players were easily lost in the game world. That was why she had always shared information with other players openly.
If one day she, too, were to die in the game world…
“Ah Jiu!”
A low, slightly raspy voice called out from the crowd, and Gu Jiu looked up to see a young girl making her way toward her.
Her brows lifted, and she smiled, her expression sweet and gentle.
“Ah Ji, you’re here! Let’s go eat. My treat today.”
Lu Ji asked instinctively, “Your points…”
“I didn’t buy any items this time, so I saved up my points. I can still afford to buy us a meal.” Gu Jiu took her arm, and the two of them walked toward a nearby restaurant like close friends.
After treating herself to a hearty meal, Gu Jiu didn’t linger in Boundless City. She said goodbye to Lu Ji. “Ah Ji, see you tomorrow.”
Standing by the street, Lu Ji watched her leave.
After seeing her vanish, Lu Ji disappeared from the spot as well.
Back in the dark palace, the young girl’s figure and delicate features reverted to a purely masculine and slender appearance.
Seated on the dark throne, his pale and graceful fingers extended, catching a gray fragment spat out by the paper frog. He examined it for a moment, then casually flicked it away.
The gray fragment vanished into the darkness outside the palace, disappearing without a trace.
With its disappearance, a faint tremor seemed to ripple through the depths of the void—a subtle disturbance, like a drop merging quietly into the ocean of the rules that govern all worlds, merging seamlessly into the sea of cosmic laws.
—
Scattered Zone.
In a towering castle suspended in the starry void, a lively gathering was underway.
The attendees were all influential figures from across the myriad worlds—beings whose mere gestures could unleash devastating storms and raze entire small worlds.
At this moment, a red-haired man holding a glass of red wine narrowed his eyes and gazed into the void outside the castle. His ruby-like eyes seemed to pierce the endless expanse, peering into the depths of the rules’ ocean.
“Alcides, what’s wrong? Surely you didn’t organize this gathering just to zone out in front of us, did you?” asked a golden-haired youth with a playful smile. His beauty was ethereal, a blend of masculine and feminine allure, reminiscent of Narcissus from Greek mythology.
“Lancer, it seems your eyesight is failing,” said a woman in a tight red dress who approached and gracefully seated herself across from Alcides. The dress highlighted her alluring figure, her flawless jade-like skin radiating an intense, feminine charm.
“Who’s got bad eyesight?” Lancer retorted, displeased. “You want a fight, San Feiyin?”
San Feiyin’s red lips curved into a seductive smile. “I don’t brawl with children.”
“You—!” Lancer nearly exploded with anger. “I’m not a child! I just grow a little slower!”
“Growing slow is akin to being underdeveloped,” she replied dismissively, waving a hand before turning back to Alcides. “My dear Alcides, have you noticed something?”
The red-haired man finally shifted his gaze from the void.
He downed his glass of wine, tossing the empty glass aside and placing his hands on his knees. “There was a faint ripple just now from the sea of rules.”
This statement instantly made both Lancer and San Feiyin sit up straighter, their expressions turning serious.
Nearby attendees who had been listening in wore expressions of unease, and the previously festive atmosphere in the hall took on a somber tone.
The others didn’t ask questions, instead focusing their attention on the red-haired man.
“No… could it be that something happened with the sea of rules?” Lancer stammered, “Could some reckless fool have attacked it? Or… did a new god emerge from it?”
“Gods have long since fallen. The myriad worlds will see no new gods,” a voice full of authority echoed, refuting the statement.
Everyone turned to see a man dressed in resplendent robes, his long hair tied back with a purple jade crown, standing amidst the opulent grandeur of the castle. His presence radiated an unmatched aura of nobility, and as he walked, those around him respectfully bowed in greeting.
Lancer and San Feiyin also stood, paying their respects to the man.
Alcides, slightly surprised, rose to welcome him with a smile. “Lord of Space and Time, what brings you here?”
The Lord of Space and Time did not answer directly but posed his own question: “Recently, you must have sensed it as well?”
A slight shift in Alcides’ gaze showed that he understood the reason for today’s visit. He nodded lowly, asking, “What are your thoughts?”
“I don’t know; I can’t see through it at the moment.” The Lord of Space and Time frowned slightly. “But I suspect it might be related to ‘that one.’”
Alcides’ expression remained calm, though only Lancer and San Feiyin, standing closest to him, could catch the subtle shift in his pupils. The Lord of Space and Time’s words had clearly unsettled him deeply.
Who was this “one”?
Everyone who overheard felt a pang of curiosity, but neither Alcides nor the Lord of Space and Time offered any explanation.
Only after Alcides and the Lord of Space and Time exited the hall did the remaining attendees begin to murmur among themselves in hushed tones.
Lancer and San Feiyin did not join the discussions; instead, they exchanged a knowing look.
“San Feiyin, do you think ‘that one’ refers to…”
“Don’t say it!” San Feiyin quickly interrupted, warning, “You’d better keep your mouth shut.”
Lancer, disliking her tone, felt compelled to retort defiantly, “I didn’t name anyone specifically. Why so tense? Besides, it’s not as though that one’s name is unspeakable.”
San Feiyin sneered. “Do you dare say his name outright?”
Lancer fell silent; he really didn’t dare.
Trying to divert the topic, he asked, “Why did the Lord of Space and Time just say that the gods have fallen and there are no gods left in the myriad worlds? Doesn’t ‘that one’ still exist?”
San Feiyin took a sip of red wine, savoring the rich aroma, and replied softly, “He isn’t truly a god. He’s just a fortunate divine descendant, inheriting the terrifying destructive power of the ancient gods…”
Fortunate?
Lancer thought back to that unique divine descendant, regarded as an S-rank threat by all the myriad worlds. No one knew exactly when he had emerged from the sea of rules or whether he was the last remnant of the fallen gods, a final avenger born of their power.
When he appeared in the myriad worlds, he brought a crisis that couldn’t be ignored, a deadly blade hanging over the heads of all beings—a figure watched, feared, and despised by the living across the cosmos.