Chapter 34: The Terrifying Aquarium (10)

Chapter 34: The Haunted Aquarium (10)

Tan Yue answered without hesitation, "Of course *you* matter more."

He explained earnestly, "Being with you, kids never even crossed my mind. How could something I never considered be more important than you?"

He was dating a guy—why fuss over kids?

His merman lover asked, "Don’t humans place great importance on passing on their genes?"

Reproduction is hardwired into the DNA of all surface-world creatures. As a god, Guan Shan knew humans well.

Parent-child bonds are usually purer.

Tan Yue shook his head. "Our family doesn’t have a throne to inherit—why obsess over bloodlines?"

"What if there was a throne to inherit?"

Tan Yue hated hypotheticals—waste of breath.

But the one asking was his ‘pregnant’ hubby (now extra fragile). He had no choice but to humor him.

"If I chose to be with you, I’d ditch the throne in a heartbeat. There are plenty of people fighting over good things anyway."

Guan Shan said, "No one steals from you."

Anyone who dared would be crushed—bones pulverized, soul erased.

"Alright, let’s not talk about this anymore," Tan Yue said. "Any pregnancy no-nos food-wise? Is the baby half-human? Could my DNA mess with you?"

Humans often praised mothers for their greatness because pregnancy was a brutal, painful grind that required immense sacrifice.

His family included a biology teacher and a forensic examiner, so discussions about human anatomy were common. When they talked about the various negative consequences of childbirth for women, their tone was always flat-out—not exaggerated, just stating facts.

But it was precisely this calm delivery that made Tan Yue feel horrified. Pain’s pain—no amount of baby joy cancels it.

He didn’t know how merfolk gave birth, but he couldn’t help worrying. "When you said we were having a child, I was thrilled, but mostly terrified. Baby, don’t hide anything from me—tell me if there are any negative effects!"

Tan Yue grew more anxious the more he imagined. "My strength has increased a lot—is this some kind of life-force sucking? Does it have any bad effects on you? Like making you weaker or something?"

Weren’t there stories like that in dramas? Some chaste cultivator saint loses their cultivation after being defiled, their years of hard work drained away.

The merman blinked his sapphire-blue eyes. "No."

Humans? Too weak to touch him. No negative effects, only positive ones.

Tan Yue was still skeptical. "Really, none?"

"Really, none. I don’t lie to you." Guan Shan wrapped his arms around Tan Yue’s neck, signaling for him to carry him. "Hold me."

Tan Yue scooped him up, steady as a rock. Once out of the water, the merman’s tail slowly transformed into two alabaster-smooth legs.

The merman sniffed him—after going out, Tan Yue must have taken another shower, as his smell was barely there.

Guan Shan sat on Tan Yue’s lap, then rubbed himself against the man’s chest, scent-marking him like territory.

In his "pregnant" state, his possessiveness had grown downright unhinged.

It was summer, but no way was he staying naked. Tan Yue asked, "Should I get you some clothes? If we’re not going out, how about a robe?"

There are many styles of robes, which are quite similar to skirts, offering some modesty without being as tight as pants.

"You carry me along."

"Sure, sure." Originally, Tan Yue didn’t find it difficult to carry Guan Shan, and after his strength increased, holding him felt as light as a feather. His movements were extremely careful, as if cradling some priceless, delicate porcelain.

Guan Shan enjoyed this pampering and debated whether to extend the gestation period. However, he didn’t dwell on it for too long before giving up the idea: *Never mind, let’s just stick to the plan. After all, if I want to enjoy this kind of treatment later, I can always create opportunities for it.*

Outside the lounge, the aquarium had resumed normal operations. Tan Yue’s part-time job hadn’t affected the work of the other nine employees, but without him diverting the attention of many visitors, the guests seemed to get more unruly.

On the twenty-first day, the mute middle-aged man who had owed money at the beginning died. The reason was that he had offended another guest during work, and the enraged guest opened his large mouth and gobbled him up whole.

Everyone heard the sound of chewing, and then the middle-aged man’s body slowly vanished from the waist up. The guest had excellent teeth, leaving no waste—bones and all were devoured.

Only, its table manners were less than graceful. As it ate, smears of blood and scraps of flesh were left on the ground.

Chen Xuemei felt like throwing up—desperately. But she dug her fingernails into her palms so hard they bled, using the pain to stay focused.

*Don’t throw up. The guest who ate that man, along with the others, are all eyeing us staff like prey, occasionally muttering things like, "You smell so good," with malicious intent.*

After all, when the guests said "good smell," they meant the scent of food. Rancid drool sometimes dribbled uncontrollably from their mouths.

*If only Xiao Tan were here. Faced with this situation, he might have a solution.*

The thought flashed through Chen Xuemei’s mind, but she soon laughed at herself mockingly. *Relying on a supernatural for help is no better than praying to the heavens.*

After all, supernaturals were walking time bombs, capable of erupting into crises at any moment. Seeking their aid was akin to making a deal with the devil—any gain came at a far greater cost.

Besides, Xiao Tan had been missing for over half a month. He wasn’t about to swoop in out of nowhere to save them.

After the incident with the middle-aged man, everyone was on edge even more.

Zhang Yang analyzed, "Don’t worry too much. The fact that we’re still fine proves that as long as we follow the rules, they won’t harm us. That guy was clearly off his rocker already. Even if he could’ve left, he’d have remained mute and insane."

Going from a normal person to a mute, enduring terrible living conditions and overwhelming pressure—the middle-aged man wasn’t some tough-as-nails survivor. On top of that, to save money, he’d bought cheap Specter Coin meals, unknowingly suffering contamination over time.

With contamination that severe, it was only a matter of time before he croaked.

"We’ve lasted twenty-one days. Nine more days, and that door better open. Tough it out."

At first, Zhang Yang had indeed been indifferent. But if so many people could make it out, more might awaken special abilities. Some might even become his future colleagues. Without conflicting interests, forming good relations wasn’t a bad idea.

Mainly, none of them had much Specter Coin on them, and the team included a few skilled individuals. The wealth at stake wasn’t enough to tempt him into greed.

With Zhang Yang’s reassurance, everyone’s morale improved slightly. "Yeah, just hold on a little longer. A few more days, and we’ll be out."

While those outside endured, inside the small lounge, Tan Yue was also struggling.

Over five days, Tan Yue had no head for work, devoting himself completely to caring for the expecting partner.

He had no prior knowledge in this area, so aside from preparing three meals a day and using the gym, he spent most of his time studying everything about pregnancy and post-birth care—

Raising children, looking after new mothers…

On top of that, Guan Shan kept pulling him into the ocean water.

Tan Yue asked, "Isn’t this bad for the baby?"

"Do my needs not matter as much as the kid’s?"

"Of course you're more important." Tan Yue also knew that a pregnant person's emotional state was the most crucial. Whatever—those books only covered human knowledge, and Guan Shan was a mermaid, not a human. He’d just listen to Guan Shan. If anything seemed off, he could always stop.

The pregnant one was quite special. His originally firm chest and abs had softened, now soft and yielding, a completely different texture...

Those five days dragged yet flew by.

Manager Tuntun, dressed in a suit and bowtie, reassumed his trademark 45-degree smile: "Your temporary assignment has ended. Unfortunately, given everyone’s mediocre performance, none of you have earned permanent positions with our aquarium. Our contractual relationship ends today."

Not like we wanted permanent jobs anyway, everyone grumbled inwardly. Finally, it was over.

"Starting today, our aquarium will be closed for renovations. Please return your employee uniforms and badges, take your trash with you, and leave immediately."

The aquarium’s door opened, and through the mist, everyone finally saw a narrow passage, at the end of which was a door radiating faint white light.

Zhang Yang was the first to move: "Hurry up. The exit portal has a time limit—it won’t stay open long."

Sometimes, the portal might exist for hours, but more often, it could vanish in minutes. They had to reach it themselves to leave.

Not only that, but they remained vulnerable to attacks on the way to the door. Without their employee status, they were fair game for hungry supernaturals.

But Tuntun clearly wasn’t one of those desperate, greedy supernaturals. After seeing them off, he eagerly initiated the closure protocol.

Everyone hurried after Zhang Yang, terrified of being left behind and trapped forever in this nightmarish otherworld—now that the aquarium had abandoned them, staying likely meant being devoured by supernaturals emerging from the white mist.

Once they desperately crossed the passage and reappeared in the bustling human world, seeing familiar buildings, the group burst into tears, shouts, and jumps: "We made it! We’re all out!"

Pedestrians occasionally gave them odd looks before hurrying away—typical of a big city's blend of indifference and tolerance. "Maybe they’re doing some performance art?"

Zhang Yang’s first act upon exiting was to contact the NSEB in the capital: "I just emerged from a simulation-type supernatural realm. Hmm... among our group, there are seven others. Arrange two vehicles for pickup."

He glanced at the crowd—Tan Yue, whom Zhang Yishi had mentioned, was nowhere to be seen. "Also, we need to investigate the records of a freshman from Capital Film University. I suspect they might have also entered the inner world..."

Manager Tuntun, having received the notice, paid no mind to the departing humans. He busied himself at the computer, halting related travel bookings through major agencies.

The official website also posted an announcement: *The Inner World Aquarium (formerly the Marine Biology Research Institute ruins) is under renovation. Closed to all visitors. Reopening date to be announced.*

Tan Yue had no mind for the outside world. He occasionally remembered to send his parents a couple of messages a week to reassure them and check in, but his full attention remained on Guan Shan.

The pregnant mermaid didn’t have the exaggerated belly of a human—at most, his abs had softened, with a slight bulge in his lower abdomen, his skin now silkier and more delicate.

Tan Yue counted the days, but even by the fifth day Guan Shan had mentioned, there was no sign of the child’s arrival. "Maybe half-breeds develop differently. The child might take longer."

After all, that slight swell resembled a food baby rather than a pregnancy.

In the work group chat, he glanced at Tuntun’s message and just replied 'Noted.'

Guan Shan had mentioned this earlier, so Tan Yue wasn’t surprised. As always, the private aquarium’s development was Guan Shan’s decision—he wouldn’t interfere.

Today, he prepared another feast. Truthfully, since Guan Shan started eating for two, their daily meals had been extravagant.

During the heat cycle, he'd stocked up on nearly a month’s worth of food, only for Guan Shan to barely touch it then. But afterward, the supplies dwindled rapidly.

In just five days, two-thirds of the previously purchased ingredients had been consumed.

If Guan Shan didn’t give birth today, Tan Yue would need to hurry out for fresher supplies.

With that in mind, he cracked ten eggs into the pan, shaping two into hearts—reserved for Guan Shan.

After lunch, Tan Yue tidied up as usual, stacking the dishes in the washer.

He was giving Guan Shan his usual massage when he suddenly noticed something off.

"Babe, did your stomach just get flatter?"

Tan Yue untied the drawstring of the bathrobe and noticed his lover's soft little belly had returned to being completely flat. He reached out to touch it and found the once-soft belly had regained its firm, muscular texture, with his sculpted abs clearly visible again.

He would press his ear to Guan Shan's slightly softened belly, listening daily, but never heard anything—only his own heartbeat and Guan Shan's.

Even this morning, he still couldn’t detect any movement from the baby inside. In human pregnancies, five days would mean the baby was still just an embryo, so of course, he wouldn’t hear anything.

Guan Shan replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "The babies have already been born."

"What?! The babies are already born?! When did that happen?" Tan Yue jumped up so fast his chair screeched.

"Where are the babies?" Tan Yue tossed back the covers, looked under chairs and tables, even searched the kitchen where he cooked—but found nothing out of the ordinary.

No infant, no little mermaid, nothing extra at all. He listened carefully but heard no crying.

Tan Yue pinched his own cheek hard—ouch, it hurt. This probably wasn’t a dream.

"Brother, you’re not joking with me about this, are you? Maybe we never actually had a baby?" Tan Yue said pointedly, hinting that as the older partner, he shouldn’t tease his younger lover with such unfunny jokes.

Guan Shan frowned. "Who’s joking? The babies are in the bathtub. I had them while you were cooking."

He had no intention of suffering—it was over in a blink.

"I’m sorry!" Tan Yue immediately apologized. "What was wrong with me?"

His wonderful partner deserved better—how could he have suspected this was a prank?

"Then… should we go check the bathroom?" Tan Yue asked nervously, gripping Guan Shan’s hand. "Or should I carry you there?"

He worried that if he carried Guan Shan and got too excited upon seeing the babies, he might accidentally drop him. "I’m a little nervous, baby. Can you walk on your own? If so, maybe I can just support you?"

"Let’s go." Guan Shan got out of bed, springing up energetically—he looked far more composed than Tan Yue.

The two headed to the bathtub. The thought of seeing their children made Tan Yue even more anxious.

When they reached the tub, Tan Yue’s eyes widened. The bathtub was filled with water, its surface covered in iridescent, rainbow-colored bubbles—like the soap bubbles he used to blow as a child.

He looked perplexed. "Are… these bubbles our babies?"

Like in the fairy tale, _The Little Mermaid_ turned into foam after death. Did newborn mermaids start as foam too?

"No, these are the babies’ membranes. They’re still incubating."

Since Tan Yue had been busy washing dishes and cooking earlier, Guan Shan wanted the babies’ father to witness their birth—it felt more ceremonial that way.

Tan Yue immediately asked, "Then how do we incubate them? Do we need to prepare anything? Add nutrients? What temperature should we maintain?"

Guan Shan snapped his fingers. "They can hatch right now."

One bubble burst open, and tiny hands pushed through the crack. A miniature mermaid with golden hair and black eyes emerged, tilting her head curiously at Tan Yue.

One, two… the bubbles popped one after another, and near-identical little mermaids wriggled out.

After breaking free, they rinsed away the membrane in the clear water, shook themselves dry, and emerged fresh and clean.

The tiny mermaids, about the size of tadpoles, soaked in the water for a while before their bodies began absorbing moisture, visibly expanding proportionally.

Though the water was being absorbed, its level didn’t seem to drop, as if an endless supply of seawater was nourishing these little mermaids.

Soon, the bathtub could barely contain them anymore. The grown ones hopped out—still small, but now about the size of two palms, looking like delicate doll figurines.

In the water, they had beautiful mermaid tails, but after leaving it, the newborn mermaids couldn’t yet control their transformations. Their tails remained, leaving them unable to walk properly, so they could only wobble-hop.

A swarm of mermaid babies quickly took over the entire bathroom, surrounding Tan Yue.

"Chirping 'Daddy' sweetly at Tan Yue," they started chattering right after hatching.

Some had golden hair and black eyes, others black hair and golden eyes, but their features clearly showed they were a mix of both parents’ traits. Aside from the color combinations, they looked like carbon copies of each other.

Their human dad smelled comforting, and the children instinctively wanted to get closer. But because of Guan Shan’s stern presence, they didn’t cling to Tan Yue. Instead, they formed a large circle around him, keeping a distance of about ten centimeters.

More children squeezed out of the bathtub until all the mermaids inside the bubbles had hatched, reaching an astonishing number.

"One, two... thirty... a hundred..."

Tan Yue glanced around, feeling utterly overwhelmed. He was good at math, but now his head spun, as if seeing double.

After all, the children moved around and looked exactly alike—counting them was easy to mess up.

His voice trembled with excitement, his usually calm demeanor now shaky, turning his words into a stutter: "G-Guan Shan... h-how many... how many children do we have?"

The god said airily, "A thousand. Not that many, right?"

He had carefully considered the number. Marine creatures usually had many offspring—like red crabs, where a male’s quick release could lead to a female laying a hundred thousand eggs, with tens of thousands making it to adulthood.

Crucian carp laid 100,000 to 300,000 eggs, grass carp 400,000, and the ocean sunfish held the record with hundreds of millions.

Amphibious creatures like frogs usually laid 3,000 to 6,000 eggs.

He thought about it—a few hundred seemed too few to showcase divine power, while too many would be troublesome, risking overcrowding. So, he landed on a round number: 1,000.

Drowned in a sea of "Daddy's" and hearing the number "a thousand," Tan Yue’s vision darkened. With a *thump*, he blacked out. Remembering not to crush the children, he collapsed toward Guan Shan, going limp in Guan Shan’s arms.