Chapter 329: Cola

Chapter 329: Cola

Lu Liu knelt beside Qi Yi, placing the lantern to one side as he studied the sentinel's face.

The sentinel's body was asleep, and his mind had followed suit. He hung motionless in the darkness, curled up in a penitent posture. Only when Lu Liu drew closer did he notice the thorns coiled around Qi Yi—layer upon layer, their sharp tips piercing his skin, leaving tiny bloodstains on his light brown skin. The sentinel's brows were tightly furrowed, as though he were enduring great pain.

The Spirit Sea reflected a sentinel's mental state, and this indicated that Qi Yi's condition was dire.

He was hanging by a thread—just a little more pressure, and he'd meet the script's requirements.

Yet Lu Liu stared at him, unsure where to begin.

How exactly was he supposed to damage a Spirit Sea?

The script hadn't specified.

After a pause, he decided to seek help from the group chat's self-proclaimed geniuses.

Lu Liu: *"Does anyone know how to damage a Spirit Sea?"*

Two seconds later, he added: *"Oh, and preferably without causing permanent harm."*

Qi Yi still needed to lead the Dark Sentinels in attacking the White Tower later—Lu Liu couldn't afford to inflict lasting damage.

This time, he didn’t @ anyone, as it seemed none of the other hosts had experience with this.

The group remained silent for a long while. When Lu Liu checked, he found that many of the hosts had gone offline.

He grumbled to himself, *"Are they off having nighttime activities with their respective partners?"*

Every time a host engaged in private time with their mission target, Lu Liu would get kicked out of the room.

Now, only his first host, Xie Yu, was online.

Lu Liu messaged Xie Yu: *"Xie—"*

He quickly deleted the words *"that Xie guy"* and amended: *"Xie Yu, do you have any ideas?"*

Xie Yu: *"Huh? Me? I don’t know."*

Young Master Xie neither read novels nor watched dramas—his hobbies consisted of business wars with his beloved by day and feeding his beloved by night. As for the sentinel/guide dynamic, he hadn’t even heard of it.

Lu Liu was so frustrated he could punch him. The sedative wouldn't last much longer—he had to complete the mission before the sentinel woke up. *"Think fast!"*

Xie Yu: *"Uh…"*

He hesitated over whether to log off.

Lu Liu growled: *"Don’t forget—I played matchmaker who tied the red thread between you two, who helped forge your happy union. And how did you repay me?"*

A lousy 60 points! Not a single point more!

*"……"*

*"Fine."* Xie Yu surrendered. *"First, tell me what a Spirit Sea is."*

That concept didn't exist in his world.

Lu Liu pondered: "It's probably a mental space, independent of the body, unrelated to physical sensations, representing only the world of the mind?"

His explanation was still too abstract and mystical. Xie Yu paused, trying to parse it: "Like when I was strapped down in the psych ward, and you played movies in my head?"

At the time, he was following a restrained plotline—his body couldn't move at all, but his mind was very active. He and 66 bantered and watched movies in his head, having a blast, which seemed to fit the situation 66 described.

Lu Liu thought: "...Probably close enough?"

Both were situations where the body was out of control, with only the mind active—likely not too different.

Xie Yu gave a thumbs-up: "OK, I completely understand now."

Lu Liu: "?"

Xie Yu: "Actually, torturing him is pretty simple—just play bad movies in his Spirit Sea."

"...?"

Lu Liu tilted his head, a question mark slowly appearing above his head.

Xie Yu: "Here's the thing, 66. When we normal humans watch bad movies in theaters, we can still scroll on our phones, eat popcorn, or even leave halfway if it's unbearable—our attention isn't fully on the film. But when you play movies in my head, it's different. My focus is 100% on the plot. If it's a bad movie, my suffering multiplies exponentially."

Xie Yu and 66 had slightly different tastes in movies. 66 loved explosive action flicks or corny comedies, the loud sound effects giving Xie Yu a bit of a headache. Plus, the films they watched were a total crapshoot—many were randomly picked by 66, so it was inevitable they'd stumble upon some weird ones.

Lu Liu fell into thought, recalling Xie Yu's reactions at the time.

This Su Zhu was a stoic type with few facial expressions, but 66 still remembered watching a certain Thai film where the male and female leads, along with the supporting characters, started slapping each other inexplicably. Xie Yu's eyebrows twitched, and he made a face like he'd eaten something sour.

"Thanks," Xie Yu had said at the time. "Can we change the movie? I feel a bit sick."

Lu Liu suddenly understood: "So that's how it works!"

He found the idea increasingly feasible.

He'd heard Sentinels had hyper-sensitive senses—even the slightest disturbance could irritate them. So what if he played loud, terrible movies directly in their Spirit Sea?

Wouldn't that drive the Sentinel crazy, making their Spirit Sea collapse?

He wouldn't even need to lift a finger, no need to touch the Sentinel's wounds, not even any sketchy stuff—just set up a sofa, a projector, grab some cola, chips, and popcorn, and kick back and enjoy a terrible movie before the Sentinel woke up!

Oh, and he should also leave chip bags and empty soda cans lying around, trashing the Sentinel's Spirit Sea!

Yes, absolutely shameless littering!

He'd heard that high-level Sentinels' Spirit Seas were beautiful natural landscapes—snowy mountains, meadows, forests, lakes. Littering in such places would surely make the Sentinel lose it!

Absolutely!

Lu Liu: "Xie Yu, you're truly a genius [thumbs up emoji]."

Lu Liu changed the note "Xie - Low Rank" to "Xie - Low Rank - Genius."

Xie - Low Rank - Genius: "You're too kind [fist bump][fist bump]"

His icon grayed out as he went offline.

Lu Liu began executing the plan.

First, he needed to select a soft sofa—he would be sitting on it for a long time, not just today but also tomorrow, the day after, and every time he invaded the Spirit Sea. It had to be a good one.

Having experienced several corporate tycoons and even a few emperors, Lu Liu pondered and finally chose the one from Lin You's imperial palace in the Insectoid race.

Three-dimensional tailoring, a masterpiece by a grandmaster, meticulously crafted—this was the furniture of an Insectoid emperor, undoubtedly the finest in the entire galaxy.

As a system, scanning data details was second nature to Lu Liu, and replicating it was as easy as 3D modeling. Soon, a massive and plush sofa appeared in the pitch-black expanse of the Spirit Sea.

The sofa's surface was made from a single piece of pure white star-beast hide, adorned with fluffy throw pillows. Lu Liu nestled into the sofa, casually grabbed one to snuggle.

Then, looking left and right, he felt something was missing, so he pulled a blanket over himself.

Next, he set up the movie screen and projector.

This was even easier—66 himself was the best projector, with thousands of films stored in his database, ready to be accessed at any time.

As for the perfect movie-watching trio—chips, cola, and popcorn—Lu Liu snapped his fingers, and they appeared on the coffee table by his side.

The cola had ice cubes, fizzing audibly, while the popcorn was drizzled with butter, exuding a sweet, creamy aroma.

The scent of food instantly filled the entire area. The sentinel hanging on the torture rack frowned slightly, his eyelashes fluttering.

Lu Liu began selecting a movie.

He didn’t know Qi Yi’s preferences, but he figured cool guys had similar tastes. If Xie Yu and Ye Wang hated certain films, Qi Yi probably would too.

Thus, Lu Liu chose a teenage romance movie.

The system was too embarrassed to tell Xie Yu and the others, but he actually quite enjoyed romance films—perhaps, as a cold, mechanical system, he harbored a natural longing for human emotions.

The protagonists were hopelessly entangled, full of drawn-out, saccharine drama—fighting, kissing, breaking up, suffering, running in the rain. Lu Liu watched mindlessly, even feeling a bit teary-eyed.

Fortunately, still in work mode, he didn’t drop his stoic mode. Even if his heart was moved, his face remained icy—though he unconsciously hugged the pillow tighter and occasionally gnawed on the blanket when excited.

Touching! Heart-wrenching! Devastating!

By the time the movie ended, Lu Liu was so distraught he couldn’t even finish his cola and popcorn.

Then, the movie's gentle end credits score began to play—piano and violin notes flowing gently, plinking and plonking, like a damp, heavy rain.

Only after the music faded did Lu Liu turn off the projector.

Estimating the time, he figured the sedative would wear off in about twenty minutes, so he prepared to leave the sentinel's Spirit Sea.

Before leaving, Lu Liu took one last glance at the popcorn and cola packaging on the coffee table and mentally apologized with faux piety: "Sorry, I’m the villain. I don’t clean up trash."

And so, he left everything as it was, placing the lantern on the coffee table before patting his butt and taking off without a backward glance.

Behind him, the sentinel remained suspended on the torture rack, brows furrowed, skin sheened with a fine sweat.

No one noticed a pair of watching eyes in the darkness.

Only when the guide's silhouette disappeared did it step out from the shadows.

It was a very beautiful cheetah.

This was Qi Yi's Spirit. To avoid harm, it had been lurking in the dark until the guide left. Then, it gracefully walked up to its master, rubbing against the bound sentinel.

The sentinel's primary consciousness remained unconscious, unable to respond. The cheetah paced anxiously in circles, letting out a distressed growl.

Qi Yi was hurt. Qi Yi was in pain now, but there was nothing it could do.

So, it nuzzled Qi Yi's leg, let out two soft whimpers, then curled its tail and lay down beside him.

But then, it suddenly caught a whiff of something sweet.

Spirits are like the subconscious—limited in intelligence, driven by animal instincts, yet not exactly an animal. It shared Qi Yi's preferences.

The cheetah flicked its tail, tilting its head suspiciously as it pondered the source of the scent.

Qi Yi's Spirit Sea was completely dark, and it hadn't smelled anything in so long.

So, the cheetah stood up, uncoiling its tail from around its master, and padded lightly toward the sofa.

It peered cautiously from behind the sofa, making sure the annoying guide wasn't there, before leaping lightly onto the edge of the sofa. It tucked all four paws together neatly, not daring to move for a long while.

The sofa Lu Liu had meticulously chosen was incredibly soft. The cheetah felt like it was stepping on clouds—the sentinel had never encountered such plush cushions in his life. The cheetah was unaccustomed to it. It tentatively lifted one paw, staring suspiciously at its pad.

The sensation under its paws felt strange.

But soon, the cheetah could no longer focus on the cushion.

It was completely captivated by the items on the coffee table.

The cheetah jumped off the sofa, resting its front paws on the edge of the table as it cautiously craned its head forward.

Two kinds of unfamiliar food and a cup of dark brown liquid, still fizzing with bubbles.

It stuck out its tongue and gave the cup a tentative lick.

The bubbles burst against its sensitive tongue, and the cheetah leaped three feet into the air, darting away in a flash.

Yuck, that tasted awful.