Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 57: Deviation

“Luck?” Salaar mulled over the word for a moment.

“Not the kind of crazy luck where you get rich overnight. More like ‘finding a chicken leg’ kind of luck.”

Labi tore into the chicken leg in huge bites, his mouth glistening with grease. “I sell my rabbit’s feet and run into generous customers, this place can make that happen. If I wake up one morning and find out I’m the illegitimate child of some great noble house, that’s just pure delusion.”

“Some noble lords came here too, hoping to make investments, and they failed. That’s why it’s only commoners here now. I heard some people are even planning to build a village here!”

“In other words, people can only get ‘luck for the here and now’ from this place.” Salaar thought it over. “The moment outside factors come into play, the ‘luck’ stops working. Is that about right?”

“More or less. The people who come here are mostly doing business. Some come here to treat illnesses too.”

The chicken leg had been roasted crudely, with barely any seasoning, but Labi still sucked every scrap of meat clean. “Some boring bards come here just to write songs. There are even ridiculous people who come here to look for lovers. Ah, and here they come.”

Myss slowly turned his head and found a group of young people approaching them. The categories were especially obvious: a few young women were trying to get close to Salaar, chests lifted, confident smiles on their faces.

A few young men were walking toward him, their eyes like they were staring at prey already in hand.

Myss: “…”

Their gaze was completely different from the way Salaar looked at him. It was light, vulgar, and deeply irritating.

Black magic wound around his fingertips. Myss was already itching to step forward and teach the one in front a lesson. But before he could act, Salaar wrapped an arm around his waist and yanked him over to his side.

Salaar held his waist tightly, practically pinning half of Myss against himself. Anyone with eyes could tell their relationship wasn’t ordinary.

Then Salaar pressed his lips to the side of Myss’s temple, looking as if he had left him a kiss.

Hidden by his ash-gray hair, Salaar moved his lips slightly. “Be careful of the Professor.”

His breath brushed against Myss’s ear, so faint it was almost imperceptible, tickling Myss’s ear. No, not just his ear. From his ear to his neck, then down to his chest, it felt as if nettles had brushed over his skin, leaving behind a strange tingling itch.

Salaar had controlled the distance perfectly. His lips hadn’t even touched Myss’s hair.

With Salaar this close, a very interesting question suddenly occurred to Myss: everyone on this land became lucky, and Salaar’s misfortune happened to be his good luck. So how was that supposed to work out?

Fortunately, he had a ready-made way to test it.

Before Salaar had even moved away, Myss hooked an arm around the Great Hero’s neck and bit straight at his face. Salaar didn’t manage to dodge in time and got chomped squarely, leaving a very obvious bite mark on his cheek.

Sure enough, Salaar’s body stiffened again.

This time he recovered faster than last time. He only looked at Myss with a complicated expression. Myss shot him a provocative grin. “Since I can’t hit you, I can only move some other parts.”

Salaar touched the place on his cheek where he’d been bitten but said nothing.

…Oh, so luck was on his side here, thought Myss with satisfaction.

That thought had barely finished turning over in his mind when a warm hand cupped his face, and something even warmer landed at the corner of his mouth.

Salaar lowered his head and kissed the corner of Myss’s lips.

Myss’s eyes flew wide open. Salaar’s face was suddenly right there in front of him. He was too close. Those sapphire-blue eyes were squeezed shut, and Myss couldn’t read his expression at all.

Myss: “…?”

Was this retaliation?

Myss couldn’t quite tell. If it were retaliation, Salaar ought to bite him back. If he were trying to mess with him with some “Sweet Trap” trope, then he ought to be kissing him on the lips… Unless this was a response to the kiss on his forehead? But Myss didn’t have any “love” to be tainted.

That kiss was too light, and its intent too ambiguous. Myss’s brain stalled out on the spot.

Seeing how “consumed by passion” the two of them supposedly were, the girls sighed and left. The young men took one look at Salaar’s brooding face and backed off as well.

Salaar let him go, his face once again the picture of calm control, as if this had been nothing more than ordinary cover.

Unfortunately, they were standing too close. Salaar’s body moved, and Myss noticed immediately—

One of Salaar’s hands was jammed in his pocket, pinching his own thigh with brutal force.

Myss: “…???”

What kind of weird human behavior was this now?

Even back in the seal, when Salaar had first grabbed one of his tentacles and tried chewing on it, Myss hadn’t been this baffled.

The next second, alarm bells exploded in his head.

This place was saturated with so-called luck. And Salaar was the source of all his misfortune, a clear, useful living coordinate. Now that coordinate seemed to have gone slightly wrong.

“Wow, so sweet.” Labi whistled, far too worldly for his age. “You two look so striking together; who knows—maybe some bard will even write songs about you!”

“So not everything here turns lucky. At least those people didn’t succeed in hitting on us.”

Salaar smoothly shifted the topic away, still wearing a composed expression.

…Why had Salaar pinched himself just now? Myss wondered.

“Like how my rabbit’s feet don’t sell out every day. Everyone’s just normal people—how could everything possibly go well all the time?” Labi said briskly. “Still, too much luck really can make people swell up with themselves. You two making them realize reality early was lucky for them.”

Salaar: “An excellent explanation.”

Labi was a responsible little guide. He led them all the way to the center of this lucky place—a massive stone door leading underground.

Long ago, people had dug out a gentle slope into the earth and paved it with broken stone slabs. At the end stood that vertical stone gate. It was an ordinary gray-white door, carved with artistic patterns imitating the sun, just wide enough for a tall carriage to pass through.

More than three hundred years later, the relief carvings had weathered away. The once-fine sculpture had become pitted and rough.

At this moment, the heavy door was shut tight, sealed layer upon layer with magical artifacts. The people nearby kept a careful distance from it, as if they instinctively didn’t want to get close.

“This is it.” Labi smugly wiped his nose. “Thanks for the chicken leg. I live southwest of here—if you need anything, just shout in that direction.”

Then the boy took off running.

He pulled out a pair of rabbit’s feet dyed pink and bounded like a rabbit toward a neatly dressed couple.

As soon as Labi was gone, Beverly and Asp strode toward the stone gate. Their expressions barely held together, both sets of eyes red with strain.

“Stop.”

Professor Gentry raised his voice slightly.

The two froze instantly, like they’d been hit with a petrification spell, not daring to take another step.

“That’s Roman’s sealing artifact, Professor.” Beverly turned back, her voice hoarse.

“The closer we get to the target, the more important it is to keep your mind steady. Don’t rush.” Professor Gentry soothed her gently. “Beverly, I hope you’ll pay more attention to detail. If you lead a team on your own in the future, you’ll be responsible for everyone’s safety. You have to let people trust you.”

Beverly took a deep breath and forced down her ragged breathing.

She made herself study the stone door. Her tiger Magibase prowled restlessly, a low growl rumbling from its throat.

“…There are traces of interference on Roman’s magic artifact?” She examined it for a good while before speaking, her tone tinged with uncertainty. “Someone tampered with their artifact? My appraisal results are strange.”

“The readings are indeed off.” As the team’s logistics specialist, Asp sounded much more certain, though his voice was full of suppressed anger. “Whoever did it was extremely professional. The fluctuation frequency on this device is almost identical to the standard value…”

“If it hadn’t been someone at Roman’s level of expertise, they’d never have caught it. If the Professor hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have noticed either…”

Professor Gentry nodded.

Then he turned toward Myss’s group and explained kindly, “Proper calibration of magical artifacts is an extremely important part of preparation. If a detection-type artifact has even the tiniest deviation—no thicker than a strand of hair—it can drag an entire team straight to hell.”

“If I may ask, is it possible one of Roman’s teammates simply made an operational error?” Father Kalen asked carefully.

Whether it was Professor Gentry or his two students, they had all immediately assumed someone had tampered with the equipment.

“Even if you dumped Roman into a barrel while he had a raging fever, got him drunk, and dragged him behind a horse for a mile, he still wouldn’t make a mistake that idiotic.”

Hearing her companion’s team questioned, Beverly’s tone sharpened. “For him, this was the most basic of basics—like a competent priest not forgetting the name of the god he worships.”

Father Kalen nodded in sudden understanding. “I see. Thank you for such an apt explanation.”

Beverly: “…”

“But even if someone sabotaged it, Roman should have noticed quickly…” Asp kept muttering, gnawing nervously at his thumbnail. “And this magical interference is especially strange. I’ve never seen anything like it… The sealing devices aren’t enough. I need to examine their guidance devices too…”

So that was it. These people suspected someone had tried to murder Roman. That culprit had tampered with Roman’s team’s magical equipment, indirectly causing them to disappear in the underground city ruins.

But that rabbit’s foot definitely carried a faint trace of Abnormal Fruit. This probably wasn’t just a case of human infighting.

Myss tried to think further, but the same question was still multiplying inside his head—

Why had Salaar pinched himself just now? He couldn’t stop wondering, and the anxiety simply wouldn’t go away.

“Are we going in immediately?” Salaar asked calmly, completely oblivious to Myss’s internal turmoil.

“I need another hour and twenty-six minutes. I have to conduct magical fluctuation measurements first.” Asp was still chewing his thumbnail. “Beverly will use appraisal magic to examine the surrounding environment. You can rest for now.”

Myss narrowed his eyes at the stone gate. As the center of this land, it oddly carried almost no Abnormal Fruit scent.

Not the gate, and not the humans nearby either. Myss had paid attention—even Labi, who sold the rabbit’s feet, carried none of the Abnormal Fruit smell on him.

So where exactly was that scent coming from?

More importantly, why had Salaar pinched himself?

…Forget it.

Myss resigned himself and turned toward Salaar.

Seeing the solemn look on his face, Salaar’s own expression also grew serious, as if preparing to listen carefully—

“After you kissed me just now, why did you pinch yourself?” Myss asked bluntly.

Salaar: “?”

“Hurry up and tell me.” Myss bared his teeth. “Tell me that, and I’ll tell you my new discovery about the Abnormal Fruit.”

“Fine.”

Salaar lowered those blue eyes of his and gave him the answer with the utmost sincerity—

“No idea. My hand just moved on its own.”

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The author has something to say:

During the three hundred years inside the seal—

Salaar: I’m sick of eating salt-roasted mushrooms. [helpless]

Salaar: Let’s try a little Chaos Archdemon instead. [shrug]

Salaar: (chew chew)

…Then he discovered that not only could he not bite through it, he couldn’t even chew it apart. [okay]

Myss, watching from the sidelines: [horrified][horrified][horrified][angry][angry][angry]

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