Chapter 180: Divine Favor (Twenty-Nine)

Chapter 180: Divine Favor (Twenty-Nine)

...Strange.

Jie Fangcheng lowered his gaze to lock eyes with the dagger.

He should feel no pain, as nothing within this game should be capable of hurting him.

Different dimensions, how could anything harm him?

Yet, here the dagger was, unmistakably emerging from his back. Jie Fangcheng even wiped the corner of his mouth and found he had coughed up blood.

He whirled around. The "Zhang Dao An" behind him just stood there, silently watching him.

"You..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Jie Fangcheng felt a sudden tug.

Raising his head, he was taken aback.

Another Zhang Dao An?

Compared to the one who had stabbed him from behind, this newly arrived "Zhang Dao An" seemed more normal.

"Manager Jie, are you alright?"

Jie Fangcheng shook his head and was about to speak when the "Zhang Dao An" before him smiled.

"As long as you're fine."

That said, another dagger came thrusting at him.

Two stabs now!

Jie Fangcheng wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, deeply vexed.

"I hate it when I have to use my brain like this!"

Both of these "Zhang Dao Ans" are clearly not the real Professor Zhang. Not to mention that the real Zhang Dao An would never randomly stab him—these two lack names, indicating that they are not sentient beings.

What is going on now?

A dream?

Just as Jie Fangcheng was pondering this, the scene before him abruptly changed. The original temple was replaced by a chaotic, fluid mindscape resembling a palette of colors.

It was the mental space of Zhang Dao An that Jie Fangcheng had encountered before.

Meanwhile, a third "Zhang Dao An" appeared, standing beside him and anxiously grasping Jie Fangcheng's wrist.

He looked somewhat anxious as he glanced at Jie Fangcheng.

"Are you alright?"

With an impassive expression, Jie Fangcheng looked at "him." Sure enough, the next moment, a dagger inexplicably appeared in this "Zhang Dao An's" hand, lunging directly towards him.

"Again?"

Jie Fangcheng slapped away the dagger with one swift move and then swung his massive sword. The three "Professor Zhangs" surrounding him were simultaneously hurled through the air, dissipating into tendrils of white mist upon hitting the ground.

It felt as if Zhang Dao An's mindscape changed once again. Jie Fangcheng felt like he had awoken from a dream; when he opened his eyes, he found himself held in Zhang Dao An's arms.

Zhang Dao An looked at him with urgent eyes.

"…Manager Jie, you've finally come to."

Without a word, Jie Fangcheng swung his sword, sending the "Zhang Dao An" who held him flying through the air.

Before "Zhang Dao An" even touched the ground, he once again turned into a wisp of white mist.

But before Jie Fangcheng had time to ponder what was happening, the scene before him changed again.

Once more feeling as if he had awakened from a dream, Jie Fangcheng opened his eyes.

Before him, Zhang Dao An's figure knelt on one knee, his back shielding Jie Fangcheng.

Sensing his awakening, Zhang Dao An turned his head.

"Manager Jie…"

Jie Fangcheng's sword had already thrust forward.

With a "thump," another wisp of white mist emerged.

The scene shifted yet again.

Countless times, in the blink of an eye, the setting had changed, and before him stood Zhang Dao An clad in divine robes.

Upon seeing Jie Fangcheng, he hesitated for a moment.

"Jie…"

The sword in Jie Fangcheng's hand whooshed through the air, yet halted abruptly before touching Zhang Dao An's neck.

"Hi!"

Jie Fangcheng might not be particularly clever, but he's far from foolish.

He had figured it out a long time ago.

Are they trying to condition him into a reflex? To the point where the moment he encounters the real Zhang Dao An, his muscle memory would compel him to strike out with his sword?

Are they underestimating him that much?

Upon seeing the real Zhang Dao An, Jie Fangcheng sheathes his sword.

"What's going on?" he asks.

Zhang Dao An, reading his reaction, seems to understand.

"Have you been repeatedly experiencing scenarios where you have to kill 'me'?"

"Something like that, what about you?"

Zhang Dao An responds calmly, "I've been experiencing being killed by you."

What he doesn't say is that even this moment, where he is peacefully conversing with Jie Fangcheng, is something he has already experienced countless times before.

Jie Fangcheng's 'dreams' are simple, brutal, and absurd.

The "Zhang Dao An" he encounters doesn't take more than a few seconds to brandish a dagger, clearly not trying to trick him into believing he's the real Zhang Dao An.

But Zhang Dao An's 'dreams' are incredibly realistic.

After entering the temple, he quickly encounters a "Jie Fangcheng."

The imposter would address him as "Professor Zhang," chatting with him nonchalantly. His tone, eyes, and gestures are indistinguishable from the real Jie Fangcheng.

Compared to the rudimentary dreams fabricated by "Hui Meng Yu" within the game, this time the figure is lifted straight from his own memories. Even Zhang Dao An, the owner of these memories, cannot discern its authenticity.

This also confirms one of Zhang Dao An's suspicions.

There has to be more behind this game than just Ji Chaoyang and the thief who stole the Book of Life and Death. Even with the abilities of two mere mortals, the most intricate world they could craft would only be to the extent of the [Divine Favor] scenario.

To extract memories from Zhang Dao An, create a convincing simulacrum of Jie Fangcheng, and make projections based on that—it's beyond human capabilities.

Even dreams created by Hui Meng Yu contained elements that raised Zhang Dao An's suspicion. But the "Jie Fangcheng" standing in front of him now was indistinguishable, whether made from his own memories or the real Jie Fangcheng.

What is really behind this game?

Is it gods? Monsters? Ghosts? Or perhaps someone—or some people—from the Underworld?

Regardless of who is behind this, the convoluted tactics employed offer Zhang Dao An a bit of reassurance.

It suggests that whoever is behind this still holds some reservations; otherwise, they wouldn't resort to such complicated, mind-bending means to achieve victory.

For a show of pure overpowering force, look no further than Jie Fangcheng.

When has he ever used any cunning? He just unsheathes his sword and goes into battle. Who can defeat him?

The person behind this game, then, must be someone with less power than Jie Fang Cheng at the moment.

To back an endless game that clearly violated the rigid laws of the Underworld, to the point of risking judgement if exposed—

This person was either unafraid of the Underworld or was directly in opposition to it.

Could it be a malevolent spirit?

Zhang Dao An realized that his understanding of the Underworld was too limited to make a guess.

He would have to wait to consult with Jie Fang Cheng.

Though his mind was racing, the immediate issue for Zhang Dao An was that he was still trapped in a "dream," the nature of which he couldn't ascertain.

The fake "Jie Fang Cheng" would, in the midst of conversation, suddenly lean in and strike him down with a sword.

Immediately after, the scene would change again, revealing another "Jie Fang Cheng."

The duration of each "Jie Fang Cheng" varied. Zhang Dao An had been keeping track—some took as long as half an hour before brandishing a sword to kill him, while others took only a few seconds.

And each time, they would pose the same question: What happened?

In response, Zhang Dao An would patiently explain every single time.

If the tactic against Jie Fang Cheng involved brutish repetition—having him kill "Zhang Dao An" over and over to form muscle memory, prompting him to strike as soon as he saw Zhang Dao An—then the strategy against Zhang Dao An was to exhaust him mentally.

Repeating the same explanations over and over would wear down anyone's patience.

But such a tactic was less effective against Zhang Dao An.

He would meticulously explain each time.

If he couldn't determine which one was the real Jie Fang Cheng, he'd treat every version as if it were real.

Zhang Dao An believed that even if an unknown force stood behind this game, this cycle of "rebirth" couldn't be endless; there had to be an end point.

If it were truly endless, there would be no need to create a scenario in which a dream version of "Jie Fang Cheng" kept killing him; trapping him eternally would suffice. Why go through the effort of creating such a dream scenario?

Zhang Dao An was even convinced that not much time had elapsed in the world beyond this dreamscape—perhaps only a blink of an eye, a mere moment.

If a considerable amount of time had passed, there'd be no need for these elaborate scenarios; they could simply kill him while he was unable to control his body.

The more intricate and focused the enemy's efforts, the more composed Zhang Dao An became. He patiently and earnestly discussed his findings with Jie Fang Cheng.

Upon hearing this, Jie Fang Cheng paused for a moment.

"You think there are others involved in this game?"

"Yes, and I suspect they're not lacking in strength."

Powerful and in defiance of the Underworld.

Is this designed to condition him into a reflex? To make it so that when he encounters the real Zhang Dao An, his muscle memory will cause his sword to swing out automatically?

That would be underestimating him, wouldn't it?

Seeing the real Zhang Dao An, Jie Fangcheng sheathed his sword.

"What's going on?" he asked.

From his reaction, Zhang Dao An seemed to understand.

"Have you been continuously experiencing scenarios where you have to kill 'me'?"

"Something like that, you?"

Zhang Dao An appeared calm, "I've been consistently experiencing being killed by you."

What he didn't say was that he had gone through countless instances of this calm conversation with Jie Fangcheng just now.

Jie Fangcheng's "dream sequence" was straightforward, brutal, and outrageous.

The "Zhang Dao An" he encountered would brandish a dagger within two seconds of meeting him, clearly not intending to deceive him into thinking he was the real Zhang Dao An.

However, Zhang Dao An's "dream sequence" was extraordinarily realistic.

Upon entering the temple, he soon encountered a "Jie Fangcheng."

The fake "Jie Fangcheng" would address him as "Professor Zhang," and converse with him casually, the tone, gaze, and movements indistinguishable from the real Jie Fangcheng.

Compared to the crude dreams created by "Hui Meng Yu" in the dungeon, this time the figure drawn from his memories as "Jie Fangcheng" was something even Zhang Dao An, the owner of these memories, couldn't discern as real or fake.

And this did indeed confirm one of Zhang Dao An's suspicions.

Behind this game, there had to be more than just Ji Chaoyang and that thief who stole the Book of Life and Death. Given the capabilities of two mere mortals, the most advanced world they could create would only be on par with the "Divine Favor" dungeon.

Extracting Zhang Dao An's memories to form a convincing "Jie Fangcheng" is not something humans could achieve.

Even the dreamscapes created by Hui Meng Yu had inconsistencies that Zhang Dao An could detect. Yet, the "Jie Fangcheng" standing before him now was so convincing that Zhang Dao An couldn't tell whether it was crafted from his memories or was the real Jie Fangcheng.

So, what exactly is behind this game?

Is it a god? A demon? A ghost? Or perhaps someone—or some people—from the Underworld?

Regardless of who is behind all this, the convoluted tactics they are employing somewhat reassure Zhang Dao An.

It suggests that they still have some reservations and would not resort to direct confrontation, choosing instead to sow confusion and deception for the win.

Those who truly overpower with strength are easy to spot. Just look at Jie Fangcheng.

When has he ever employed stratagems? He simply unsheathes his sword and charges in. Who could defeat him?

"That silver Hui Meng Yu is missing."

Ever since being recruited by Zhang Dao An, the silver Hui Meng Yu had become an obedient subordinate, always abiding by his commands. Yet now, it was nowhere to be found in his mental landscape.

Sneaking away was impossible. Just how fearsome was Zhang Dao An? Even when he slept, his subconscious mind could keep this fish trapped in his own thoughts. The fish wasn't human—it couldn't deceive or slip away when he wasn't looking.

The fish was absent, so then...

"Could we be in someone else's cognitive realm?"

Both had prior experiences of venturing into each other's cognitive realms, which they understood to be like small worlds unto themselves.

For someone like Zhang Dao An, who had good control over his cognitive realm, constructing a city in his own mind was no problem. Everything but living creatures could be created.

To discreetly remove the Hui Meng Yu from his cognitive realm would be challenging through normal means.

Only a cognitive realm of a higher tier could accomplish this.

If they were indeed in someone else's cognitive realm...

"But we did encounter 'people' just now." The fake "Jie Fangcheng" and "Zhang Dao An" had genuinely appeared out of nowhere.

Creating living things within a cognitive realm is already within the realm of "laws," something that, even for Jie Fangcheng, had only ever been heard of, not seen.

"If that's really the case, whoever is behind this game must have an extraordinary status, higher even than the Ten Kings of Hell in the Underworld."

Matters involving "laws" were not just about individual strength; one must also possess the appropriate status for divine approval.

Jie Fangcheng didn't understand the various balances involved here and usually didn't care; he was but a mere department manager, and worrying too much would only invite trouble.

But who could be behind this game?

Who could it be? He's not familiar with anyone from the heavens; he's only fought them once.

The Underworld was also unlikely.

Over fifteen hundred years ago, the Underworld purged traitors in a cataclysmic battle. Only four of the Ten Kings of Hell remained. Their big boss hasn't shown himself since that war, still recuperating and only occasionally sending out missions—missions that span a couple of centuries, as if he were a teacher handing out assignments before going on vacation, indifferent to the plight of his subordinates.

Jie Fangcheng had also been called upon to assist in that war. The Underworld was short-staffed afterward, and even powerful ghosts were causing havoc.

Left with no choice and owing a significant favor, Jie Fangcheng had to stay and help, and he ended up doing so for fifteen hundred years.

Since that great battle, the Underworld's systems had become increasingly rigid, its procedures increasingly complicated; no one dared to step out of line, fearing a recurrence of the past.

To this day, the newly recruited ghost messengers are so overwhelmed by memorization that they weep. Some even harken back to the imperial scholars of old dynasties who would leap into the river, exasperated by the complexity of Underworld civil servant exams.

After much thought, Jie Fangcheng couldn't think of anyone rebellious enough to abandon their stable civil servant job to design such an endless game.

It makes no sense!

Jie Fangcheng had his reasons for his rebellion back in the day, but creating a game to torment people? What's the point?

"What's the purpose of this game? What do the people in the Underworld hope to gain from it?"

"If it's not someone from the Underworld, then it's even more puzzling. I have more enemies than acquaintances among those higher up."

Jie Fangcheng pondered deeply, while Zhang Dao An seemed to have prepared himself mentally.

Despite being an ordinary human with a fragmented soul, he appeared quite unfazed when hearing this.

"Looks like this will be a rather extensive case," he said, followed by a light chuckle. "Which means it has nothing to do with us."

Jie Fangcheng paused for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Indeed."

"With this situation, it's not a headache meant for a mere finance manager like me."

"So, how do we get out of here now?"

Zhang Dao An looked at the surrounding white mist.

"Let me try."

With that, he closed his eyes.

Before Jie Fangcheng could comprehend what he meant, a few seconds later, the surrounding mist seemed to be kneaded like dough, shifting its shape.

Then Jie Fangcheng understood.

Zhang Dao An had simply entered his own cognitive realm, irrespective of whose realm they were in initially.

Cognitive realms aren't like Russian nesting dolls; having one encompassed by another doesn't mean the inner one will be obedient.

A more apt metaphor might be that of a small river and an ocean; only when the ocean is sufficiently vast, surpassing the river by tens of thousands of times, can it safely encompass the river.

Clearly, Zhang Dao An is not a small river; at the very least, he’s a sizable lake.

After all, Zhang Dao An might be human, but he's also more than that.

His soul is composed of fragments of malicious ghosts. Over the years, he's endured hardships worse than tormented souls in hell, suffering incessantly from the influences of countless malevolent spirits and dealing with the misfortunes caused by Yin and ghostly energy.

But at the same time, the malevolent ghosts that compose him are far from ordinary; to be shattered to such an extent, each would have had to claim at least hundreds of lives.

If Zhang Dao An wished to become a fierce ghost, he could effortlessly take over from the previous King of Fierce Ghosts, Jie Fangcheng, and become the new reigning monarch among ghosts.

To say Zhang Dao An is strong is complicated; he’s indeed a mortal, and even among the player base, his combat capability is at a beginner level, one might say he's as weak as a chicken.

On the flip side, given his unique circumstances, with a little training, even if he couldn't match Jie Fangcheng's strength, reaching a position similar to old Cui wouldn’t be out of the question.

Most strikingly, his mastery over his cognitive realm is staggering, especially considering he'd never voluntarily entered his cognitive realm before encountering this scenario.

"Not only can he control his own cognitive realm after just a few visits, but he can also influence others..."

Just as he thought this, Zhang Dao An suddenly opened his eyes and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Jie Fangcheng hurriedly supported him, "Are you alright?"

Continuing, Jie Fangcheng comforted him, "The person behind the game can create living beings, which involves the highest of rules. Losing to someone like that is understandable. There aren't many like them, even if you searched high and low."

Or rather, for Zhang Dao An, a mere mortal, to be able to enter a cognitive realm under such conditions, is something Jie Fangcheng had never heard of before.

Saying nothing after he spat out the blood, Zhang Dao An gulped down a system-provided potion before speaking.

"Actually, ever since I entered this game, I've been curious. How could it have run silently for fifty years, occupying such a large area and storing so many souls? Now I know."

"What is it?"

Zhang Dao An looked around at the white mist.

Compared to when he first entered, the surrounding mist had imperceptibly faded a bit.

"The person who built this game situated it within someone's cognitive realm."

Jie Fangcheng paused in astonishment.

Just a moment ago, Zhang Dao An had entered his own cognitive realm.

It was a strange feeling. Previously, when he entered his own cognitive realm, he could sense that he was the sole master of that world.

Any foreign object, no matter how minuscule, like a grain of sand, could be instantly located if Zhang Dao An wished it.

But this time, entering his realm felt as if it wasn't solely his own.

It was like a computer that had always been offline, but at that moment, it was suddenly connected to a massive network.

Within this network were countless computers like his; some were online, and some were inaccessible.

Zhang Dao An still had control over his own cognitive realm, but it was now networked.

When he tried to manually disconnect, a torrent of immense data flows detected the "rebellious action" of this 'computer' and surged towards it.

Left with no choice, Zhang Dao An had to take a step back.

He reached out his hand.

"What the—!" Jie Fangcheng looked at the silver Dreamfish in his hand, "How did you manage to get it back?!"

Holding the fish, Zhang Dao An reflected on what had just transpired.

The unconnected computers were likely players', while the connected ones, with their cognitive realms open for program rewrites and partitioning, were most likely NPCs.

Just now, the Dreamfish had already been put into a connected cognitive realm. Although Zhang Dao An couldn't withstand the massive data flow, retrieving a single fish was still manageable.

There was another point he was particularly concerned about.

"The cognitive realms are represented by bound spheres of light, and there are fewer than two hundred of them."

Less than two hundred!

The Ronghua Guild alone had nearly that many members, and tens of thousands of active players ran dungeons regularly in the game. Add to that the larger number of casual players and those who had already died and been absorbed by the game—the number of light spheres should be much higher. Why are there only two hundred?

"Optimistically, maybe the Underworld has discovered this game? After all, Lang Gu was suddenly summoned; they’re busy in his department. A soul reaper goes missing for half an hour and everyone notices," Jie Fangcheng speculated. "Despite its current state, the Underworld still maintains a measure of martial virtue."

Zhang Dao An was not so optimistic, but for now, he had found no further clues to suggest other theories.

"Perhaps," was all Zhang Dao An said, as he tucked the Dreamfish back into his cognitive realm. "But we can leave now."

"Hm?"

Zhang Dao An reached out and took Jie Fangcheng’s hand, "Enter my cognitive realm. Come with me."

Without another word, Jie Fangcheng closed his eyes.

The Dreamfish acted like an optical fiber, connecting them both. Soon, they reappeared in Zhang Dao An's cognitive realm.

This time, Zhang Dao An's realm morphed into a high-tech internet scene. For the first time, Jie Fangcheng saw what Zhang Dao An had seen earlier: fewer than two hundred light spheres hovered around them.

Some were closer and appeared to possibly represent Wei Yuan and the others.

However, compared to Zhang Dao An's semi-open cognitive realm, the data chains around Wei Yuan and the others were few. Their cognitive realms showed no signs of being open.

Others were very far away, emitting a faint, star-like light, as if at the ends of the universe.

The space was so immense that Jie Fangcheng couldn't see its edges. The boundless emptiness was eerie.

A faint black mist lingered, unmistakably residual Yin energy that hadn’t yet dispersed.

With the help of the Dreamfish, a multitude of memory screens began to flood Zhang Dao An's cognitive realm, some even appearing multiple times.

These memory screens acted like a firewall, and at a critical moment, they blocked the incoming data flows, even capturing some of them.

Seizing the instant when the data flow was interrupted, Zhang Dao An finally regained control of his cognitive realm.

At the same time, Jie Fangcheng, who was inside his cognitive realm, was also wrapped and disconnected from the "network."

Jie Fangcheng felt a sudden sense of detachment, and then he opened his eyes.

The white mist remained the same, but now they were not alone—Jie Fangcheng and Zhang Dao An had company.

"Brother Jie!"

Nie Shuangshuang called out anxiously. Before Jie Fangcheng could react, his vision darkened abruptly.

"Wei Yuan!"

Jie Fang Cheng looked up.

Known by the nickname "The Boulder" and famous for his defensive prowess, Wei Yuan stood with his back to Jie Fang Cheng, his arms stretched out protectively in front of him.

A blood-soaked hand reached through Wei Yuan’s chest, gripping a still-beating heart.

The next second, with a "plop," the heart burst open before Jie Fang Cheng’s eyes.

Blood splattered, landing on Jie Fang Cheng's face.

Jie Fang Cheng caught Wei Yuan's collapsing body, and in that moment, lifted his head in a daze.

He recognized that hand.

Compared to the hands of ordinary players, these hands—like their owner's name—radiated a fierce, untamed energy.

The sharp nails and the pallid, distinctive skin of the Underworld were the epitome of an Underworld civil servant.

In front of him, a face that used to irritate him—but had grown surprisingly tolerable lately—looked emotionlessly at him, its vibrant red robe now stained a rusty brown with blood.

Jie Fang Cheng held Wei Yuan's lifeless body, a drop of blood tinged a vivid red at the corner of his eye.

"What are you doing... Lang Gu?!"