Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 92: Mental Fortitude

Downtown hotel.

The scent of blood lingered in the cramped room. Hours passed, and Da Luo remained kneeling in place, unmoving. His fingertips kept tracing the carpet, his face stiff like he was wearing a mask.

No one could tell whether he regretted his actions or simply hadn’t been able to process them.

Cold wind blew through the broken window, making the corpse shell on the floor sway slightly.

Observing the entire mutation process of the sacrificial victim had indeed been quite helpful. Bai Shuangying tapped the shell with a finger, then looked up at Da Luo. If he guessed right…

Just as everyone was stunned, Da Luo’s body began to change.

With the sound of bones creaking and grinding, his head slowly sank into his chest cavity. As it did, his back arched backward and his sternum expanded forward, making room for the descending head.

Da Luo’s arms twitched. He instinctively resisted for a moment.

His face, aside from showing panic, now revealed a hint of fatigue, the kind that comes from giving up, from being too tired to fight.

The blow of his twin brother’s death, two days without sleep, the incomprehensible situation, and the realization that his mutation was irreversible…

Under everyone’s watch, the will to live faded from Da Luo’s eyes.

He sank into his own flesh, like someone sinking into a swamp. His mouth disappeared first, followed by his nostrils, nose bridge, and eyes. Soon, his face could no longer be seen.

He never even called out for help.

As the body distorted, the little black dog stood protectively in front of Fang Xiu, its beady eyes locked on Da Luo.

Fang Xiu remained still, his gaze brushing lightly across the room like a feather.

Zhuang Pengdao and his two disciples looked composed. Mei Lan showed no special reaction. Cheng Songyun and Guan He flinched briefly, but quickly composed themselves, their expressions turning to pity.

Guan He even glanced at Fang Xiu to make sure he wasn’t panicking. Once reassured, he tucked away the black eye veil in his hand. Jiao Jiao had a similar reaction, still tightly gripping her tarot cards.

As the wet, squelching sounds of flesh distortion echoed, Da Luo slumped forward, gradually turning into a “human cocoon”. The only silver lining was his transformation was slower than Xiao Luo’s, meaning he might live a few more hours.

Yan Yan stammered in shock. “Da Luo’s still conscious. What’s going on?!”

“Two taboos.” Zhuang Pengdao stepped closer, looking down at the monk waiting quietly for death.

“One taboo is mental instability, which distorts body and soul.”

“Sleeping or fainting can lead to loss of consciousness. A loop reset disrupts mental state. Falling into despair from trauma also counts as instability.”

Zhuang Pengdao patted Da Luo like he was petting a dog, speaking with ease.

Jiao Jiao translated bluntly for Yan Yan. “He means losing SAN* speeds up mutation.”

*Clarity: Sanity. Often in horror games, there’s some kind of “SAN” stats that affect the gameplay

Yan Yan’s confusion cleared. He just muttered, “How does sleeping count as losing SAN…” but didn’t argue further.

“The death taboo is also obvious. Emerge from the cocoon as a butterfly, return to the Yellow Springs.”

Zhuang Pengdao went on, still sounding like he was giving a lecture. “A death taboo usually doesn’t have overly complex conditions, and mutation doesn’t necessarily mean death. They’re likely two separate taboos.”

“This Immortal E’s powers lean toward mental influence. From now on, be careful with your mental defenses when dealing with the butterfly.”

Da Luo stayed completely still. Fang Xiu suspected he no longer understood human speech.

Two lives in exchange for two taboos.

It had to be said, Zhuang Pengdao’s deduction was quick and on point. His overall direction was hard to fault. His poised demeanor was certainly convincing, but Fang Xiu couldn’t shake the feeling that something was subtly off.

That night, Fang Xiu chose to stay at the scene.

Da Luo lingered in a corner, barely alive, looking like a breathing meat sack. His head was entirely retracted into his chest, leaving only a patch of scalp with a visible 卍 symbol. Xiao Luo’s body had been stored in Fang Xiu’s spatial pouch, the blood cleaned by Bai Shuangying’s spells. The room was relatively tidy.

Even so, Guan He couldn’t stand the sight of the human cocoon in the corner. To preserve his sanity, he went to rest in Cheng Songyun’s room, leaving Fang Xiu alone.

Fang Xiu was more than happy to enjoy some alone time with his ghost. Feeding Bai Shuangying freely in front of others was difficult. The human cocoon couldn’t see or hear anyway, so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Dinner time came.

Fang Xiu lay on the bed, savoring a long, quiet kiss.

The dopamine rush brought clarity. Bai Shuangying gripped his hand a little harder, clearly enjoying himself too.

At that moment, Bai Shuangying loomed over him, his black hair falling down like a curtain over the world. The icy, inhuman tongue in his mouth was almost invigorating, its tip teasing like a plucked string, jolting his nerves.

Fang Xiu stroked the cool sleeve of his partner, his thoughts tangled. Perhaps sensing his distraction, Bai Shuangying let him go after just ten minutes.

“I’ve discovered something…”

“I’ve discovered something…”

They spoke almost simultaneously once the kiss ended, their breaths still unsteady.

Fang Xiu looked at Bai Shuangying in surprise. “You first.”

“I’ve deciphered what’s going on here.” Bai Shuangying sat beside him, casually rubbing Fang Xiu’s ear. “This place is a dream.”

Fang Xiu shot upright. “What do you mean?”

“Techniques that overturn reality typically fall into illusion or dream. This one involves the entire city’s living souls. If it were a powerful illusion, the mortal world would have intervened… so it must be operating through dreams.”

Bai Shuangying’s tone was firm but lacked Zhuang Pengdao’s methodical air. “One cannot fall asleep within a dream. This is a law of the Heavens.”

Fang Xiu thought aloud, “Then what about everyone else? We’re not the only living souls here.”

“The others are already in dreams; they don’t need to sleep. The Immortal E simply connected their dreams and took control,” Bai Shuangying replied smoothly.

Fang Xiu understood now.

No wonder the Immortal E could affect a whole city, yet only their group had been dispatched by the Underworld. Everyone else was just sleeping. The chaos was only happening in their dreams.

In that case…

“Time here is just a dream. Even if we spend months in this place, maybe only a few hours pass outside.”

Fang Xiu chuckled. “That means we entered this dream fully conscious. Our minds are running at full power. If we suddenly lose consciousness, the crash would naturally cause problems.”

Like a precision machine in a factory suddenly losing power; it could cause irreparable damage.

Bai Shuangying nodded and glanced at the cocoon in the corner.

“If your minds waver, the dream invades. Madness follows. Then comes soul damage and physical mutation.”

“The true taboo should be ‘dream invasion distorts body and soul’. That surname Zhuang skipped a crucial step.”

Having finished his analysis, Bai Shuangying was quite satisfied. Thanks to Fang Xiu, he felt like he was getting smarter.

He savored the feeling for a while, then asked in a competitive tone, “So what’s your discovery?”

Fang Xiu turned, resting his head on Bai Shuangying’s thigh. “I suspect Zhuang Pengdao is hiding something. And after hearing you, I think he already knows this is a dream.”

Did that mean he was about the same level as that little Taoist? Bai Shuangying scowled down at Fang Xiu.

As if hearing his thoughts, Fang Xiu reached up with a warm hand and covered those pale eyes. “Of course he’s not as good as you. I just think he has access to other sources. Clearly, he has deep connections to the metaphysics. Maybe he’s heard of the Immortal E before.”

Bai Shuangying was satisfied. He slid his eyes to another part of his face and blinked gently.

“He’s far too goal-driven, and doesn’t act like someone investigating.”

Fang Xiu mused, “Hu Die hasn’t officially turned against us. There’s no reason for him to try to kill her right away. And after seeing Xiao Luo’s corpse, he ignored all the oddities and jumped straight to deducing taboos.”

“It’s like he doesn’t want us getting too close to Hu Die, or learning the truth of this place.”

Guys like Jia Xu, who make things up out of thin air, are easy to handle. Zhuang Pengdao, who blends seven parts truth with three parts lies, is far trickier.

Even worse, he’s genuinely powerful. Compared to an obvious outsider like Fang Xiu, Zhuang Pengdao is much more convincing.

“I just don’t know what his end goal is.”

As Bai Shuangying’s eyeballs slid around his face, Fang Xiu chased after them with both hands, treating it like a focus game. “By the way, if we kill whoever’s controlling the Immortal E, would the ritual end?”

“The Immortal E isn’t like regular E’s. It doesn’t affect the surroundings indiscriminately. If its controller dies, its influence ends too,” Bai Shuangying confirmed.

He grabbed Fang Xiu’s wrists and pinned his hands to the bed, putting his eyes back in place.

Fang Xiu let out a short laugh, not resisting. “But killing Hu Die didn’t end the ritual. It only triggered a reset.”

“There are plenty of ways to fake death in a dream. After a few more rounds, we’ll figure it out,” Bai Shuangying said confidently.

“We,” Fang Xiu muttered under his breath.

Bai Shuangying: “?”

Yes, we, as in Fang Xiu and him. What’s the problem?

Fang Xiu smiled without answering. A few minutes later, he rolled over on Bai Shuangying’s thigh. “I’m going to rest a bit. Good night.”

No sooner had he shut his eyes than the little black dog clumsily hopped onto the bed and curled up in the blanket. Bai Shuangying’s cool robes brushed Fang Xiu’s face. The dog’s warm body pressed against his feet. Fang Xiu relaxed instantly.

His body still ached and his mind was still foggy, but he’d never felt so at ease.

Only mental disturbance could let the dream invade. So long as the mind stayed strong, the damage could be kept minimal.

Luckily, he’d grown used to this level of chaos and despair long ago.

Soon, a false sunrise arrived again.

During breakfast, Zhuang Pengdao announced the day’s plan as usual: his disciples rejoined him, taking Jiao Jiao and Mei Lan to observe Hu Die and track her behavior during the loops.

As a new Disaster Resolver, Fang Xiu was tasked with watching Meng Xiaomeng. Since killing was off the table, intel gathering was the top priority.

It sounded logical enough, but…

“We want to observe the Hu Die.”

Fang Xiu shredded roast chicken and stirred it into his porridge. “I’ve interacted with her before. She has a good impression of me.”

“She likely remembers the loops. If she remembers you killing her, we’ll have an easier time talking.”

Zhuang Pengdao smiled. “Hu Die is the loop’s core. It’s too dangerous for regular folks.”

Guan He shot him a disgruntled look. Wasn’t that just a roundabout way of calling them weak?

Fang Xiu: “Then swap Mei Lan in with me. We’ll watch Hu Die. The rest can follow Meng Xiaomeng, who’s less risky. Well?”

Previously, Mei Lan had been assigned because “as a woman, she’d be better for communication”. Now that they weren’t trying to talk, that reason no longer held.

Zhuang Pengdao paused his chopstick. “Meng Xiaomeng might encounter an emergency. Yan Yan isn’t in great shape. He needs a clear-headed leader.”

Mei Lan stared at her bowl, saying nothing in defense of her team leader, showing no intention of switching.

In the end, the groups remained unchanged.

Zhuang Pengdao and his team departed with ease to observe Hu Die, leaving Fang Xiu’s group behind with a groggy Yan Yan.

“I’m so tired.”

Yan Yan yawned, his eyes watery. “Do we really have to follow that girl around all day? My nose is about to fall off…”

Fang Xiu watched where Zhuang Pengdao had vanished, a thoughtful glint in his eye.

……

The weather was clear, but Meng Xiaomeng was in a foul mood.

She and her mother had been in a cold war for nearly a week, and her most recent test had gone unexpectedly badly. She had been distracted during an evening quiz and ended up misaligning the answer sheet. Her usually strong subject, math, ended up a complete mess.

As for how it all started…

“Mengmeng, your mom trying to make you two break up again?” Her deskmate turned around with a gossipy smile.

Several boys nearby instantly started joking with the tired “your mom made you do it” bit, which earned them a sharp glare from Meng Xiaomeng.

“No, she’s too busy trying to get promoted. She didn’t say a single word to me last night,” Meng Xiaomeng muttered irritably. “Which is just as well. Saves me from having to report my quiz score.”

“Then you’ve got it good,” the girl in front said seriously. “I scored 20 points lower than last time. My parents acted like it was the end of the world, so annoying.”

Meng Xiaomeng gave a dry laugh and nervously played with the zipper on her pencil case.

The girl looked around, confirming the teacher hadn’t arrived yet, then lowered her voice. “So… are you two still in touch?”

“Of course we are.” Meng Xiaomeng nodded and pulled an old phone out of her desk. “We use this. My mom doesn’t know about it.”

“He bought it for you? That brand’s kinda…” The girl trailed off.

“I told him not to buy anything too expensive,” Meng Xiaomeng said quickly. “Can’t take too much from someone. This was only a few hundred yuan. I just wanted to avoid my mom.”

The girl gave her a knowing look. “…Oof, put it away. Lao Chen’s coming!”

Meng Xiaomeng stuffed the phone back in her desk and picked up her textbook. But her thoughts were still scattered. Her mother weighed on her mind.

She didn’t like her home.

Her family wasn’t complete.

Meng Xiaomeng didn’t remember her father. For as long as she could remember, it had just been her and her mom. Her mother had called her father a scumbag, saying they’d broken up long ago. There wasn’t even a single photo of him in the house.

Her mom looked a lot younger than most other kids’ moms. Maybe they never married at all. But that was something Meng Xiaomeng never dared to ask about.

Her family wasn’t well-off.

When she was younger, she and her mother lived in a cramped old apartment. It had just one bedroom and a living room, and the living room was piled with clutter. The bedroom didn’t even have air conditioning. They’d share a bed, and in summer, all they had was a mat and a fan.

The neighbors were uncivilized, often throwing garbage right outside the door. In her memory, “home” always came with the smell of mold and the stench of rotting trash water.

She wasn’t yet old enough to care about comparing homes, but even then, she was embarrassed to invite friends over.

Still, back then, her mom was at least around most of the time. Whenever she got hurt, her mother would carefully apply medicine and say soothing words.

But then her mom changed.

She got incredibly busy, dumped her into a middle school dormitory, and was barely home.

When Meng Xiaomeng got sick in the dorm and wanted to talk to her mom, her calls would be cut short with a “I’m in a meeting.” Outside of grades, they had very little to talk about.

You’re sick? Didn’t take care of yourself again? Go to the hospital, take your meds, drink more water.

How were your scores? You did this badly again? I told you to focus. Why can’t you just be more careful?

…Every call ended within five minutes.

Her mom only cared whether she took her medicine and what scores she got. Her emotional state was never addressed.

Dorm drama, fights with classmates—she didn’t even know where to begin, so she kept it all inside.

She’d watch her classmates talk about family trips, hear about birthday surprises their parents planned, and see kids with worse grades being hugged and fussed over by their parents.

That was a kind of life she’d never experienced. She only fit in with the kids whose parents “didn’t act like people either.”

Later, they moved. She no longer lived at school and finally had her own small bedroom.

But her chances of seeing her mom hadn’t changed at all. Her mom was often expressionless, sometimes looking exhausted. Dinner conversations still revolved around grades and college prep. She could barely remember what her mom’s smile looked like.

…Even a dog gets a pat on the head when one comes home, doesn’t it?

So, she began to rebel.

If her mom didn’t care about her anyway, then why not push back?

During morning self-study, the homeroom teacher’s gaze swept the classroom. Meng Xiaomeng used her textbook as cover and sneakily pulled out her phone to reply to “Bitter Moon’s” messages.

[Bitter Moon: Morning, baby]

[Sweet Dream Pudding: Math class this afternoon is gonna be hell. So annoying.]

[Sweet Dream Pudding: Bombed my test. Can dodge my mom but not Lao Chen. Save meee.]

[Bitter Moon: Come out during lunch. Hubby will buy you cake. Let’s heal a little.]

[Bitter Moon: [Image] This place, all the desserts are made fresh. Delicious.]

[Sweet Dream Pudding: That one’s too far. First class after lunch is math…]

[Bitter Moon: Skip it. Not your first time. Baby won’t get scolded.]

[Bitter Moon: I only scored 15 in math back in school. Didn’t stop me from counting money later.]

Then he sent a cute cat sticker, followed by a barrage of tempting dessert photos.

Meng Xiaomeng smiled at the tiny screen.

He was her boyfriend from the internet.

They’d met in person before. Bitter Moon was very handsome and generous. He was seven years older, twenty-three this year. He’d once attended this very high school but left after graduation to work, so technically, he was her senior.

He was always attentive to her feelings. He noticed every mood change and sent her little gifts and snacks all the time. A few times, he’d waited for her at the school gate with a bouquet. Their relationship had become somewhat well-known at school.

When her mom found out, she confiscated her phone. The moment she heard Bitter Moon was twenty-three, she went ballistic, so rigid and old-fashioned.

She didn’t understand how they got along, how pure it was. Meng Xiaomeng scoffed inwardly. It wasn’t even affecting her grades. When they went out, Bitter Moon hadn’t even held her hand.

Luckily, her oh-so-busy mom couldn’t stop their true love.

[Sweet Dream Pudding: Fine, I’ll come find you at lunch.]

Before she could finish typing, a hand snatched the phone away.

Homeroom teacher Lao Chen stood beside her, glaring and wagging the phone. “Scores like yours and still playing with your phone? Keep this up, and I’ll call your parents!”

Whispers rippled through the class.

“Lao Chen splitting up lovebirds again.” “Campus CP Public Enemy #1 strikes!”

Clearly, Lao Chen had heard about her situation. He glanced at the chat screen, frowning even more. “…Come to my office after class.”

Meng Xiaomeng exploded. “That’s a violation of privacy!”

“Come after class. Did you hear me?” Lao Chen repeated.

“I’m not going!” she snapped. “Just say it here, everyone’s listening.”

Lao Chen paused, then spoke more sternly. “Fine then. Meng Xiaomeng, bring your parent tomorrow.”

“She won’t come. She has to be in a mee—ting—” Meng Xiaomeng rolled her eyes. “Just tell me directly.”

“Meng Jie’s so cool.” “Math Goddess is on another level.”

The back rows erupted in murmurs.

Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying, cloaked in invisibility, stood at the back of the classroom. From their angle, the girl’s back was straight, exuding the defiant energy only teenagers possessed.

So vibrant, yet so misdirected.

A few streets away.

“I smell that ‘Bitter Moon’ guy.” Yan Yan was crawling on all fours and sniffing the sidewalk in distress. “The phone’s scent is faint, but no doubt about it… Look, that’s him.”

A man was shopping at a convenience store near a bar. Guan He covered his eyes with his black veil and approached the target like a ghost.

“Bitter Moon” really was good-looking, with a mischievous charm in his features. Though he was nowhere near as good looking as Fang Xiu or Zhuang Pengdao, he was still decent. At the moment, he had a cigarette in his mouth while picking snacks off the shelf.

Finally, he casually grabbed two boxes of condoms from the counter, as naturally as if they were cookies.

Guan He: “…”

He suddenly had a bad premonition.

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