Chapter 125
[Host, this isn’t a joke. Let’s think of another way in,] #888 fretted. Its scan showed the lions were far too strong to fight.
“Look there,” Lu Chuan said.
A lion’s tail flicked, knocking a previously invisible player into view.
“No tricks,” the lions chorused. “Abilities or items won’t fool us. To enter, you must meet our demand. Everything has a price—surrender your body!”
Lu Chuan frowned. That exact phrase—everything has a price—was in the instance hint.
Another player tried producing a duplicate body with an item.
“Will this substitute do?”
“No,” the lions shook their heads. “Only the real you.”
Someone tried to break through by force. They all died messily.
“Time’s nearly up,” the lions warned. “Refuse, and wait five years. Then our price will change.”
Some players hesitated, thinking five quiet years inside the instance preferable to certain death.
But Lu Chuan thought: I can’t wait five years.
[Host, what are you doing? Get back!] #888 panicked.
“Let them bite me,” Lu Chuan replied calmly. “The hint said everything has a price. Eternal life can’t come cheap. Even after five years, the demand might be worse. This is Main Quest One—if others failed every trick, this must be the rule.”
He smiled. “I doubt the instance wants us dead outright. Maybe this is just the toll.”
After all, hadn’t the lions tossed the man’s bones inside?
Sometimes you must face death to find life.
Of course, Lu Chuan admitted—he was gambling.
Before #888 could stop him, he stepped forward.
“I want to enter. I offer my body.”
“As you wish.”
The lions lunged, each biting a side of him.
[Host—no!]
Pain tore through him as his body ripped apart.
So this is death, he thought. Getting shredded by monsters feels no different than tearing banknotes.
The beasts chewed, then hurled his bones beyond the gate.
[Main Quest 1 complete. Congratulations, player [Arrival of the God of Wealth], on entering the City of Immortality.]
Hearing the system’s chime, Lu Chuan finally let go and slipped into unconsciousness.
Damn, showing off really does come at a price.
——
[Oh! Host, you’re alive again,] #888 gasped—then stifled a laugh. [But… your body… pfft… this is too funny.]
Lu Chuan stood, noticing everything seemed towering—buildings, people.
No, they weren’t bigger. He was smaller.
Looking down at his plump little hands, he almost stumbled.
He darted to a shop window and saw his reflection: a chubby toddler, barely knee-high to an adult, rosy and adorable—no more than three years old.
“…What the hell is this?” Lu Chuan stared, stunned, hardly recognizing himself.
So that chubby baby… was himself?
[Pfft—host, so this is what “immortality” in City of Immortality really means.] #888 held back laughter. [Once you enter the city, you have to start growing from scratch. This really does make you “young forever,” and technically “immortal.”]
If people never lived long enough to grow old—because they were eaten and reborn instead—then, in a twisted sense, that was eternal life.
Lu Chuan’s face darkened.
With this body, at this age, even if he had a silver tongue and countless skills, who would take a little kid seriously?
“Hm? Another one?”
“Honestly, our city’s children all depend on these ones from outside.”
“Right? Don’t worry, little one, the families lining up to adopt you will definitely give you a loving home. No need to be scared.”
As Lu Chuan brooded, a few uniformed young people spotted him on the street. Their eyes lit up instantly.
“Ah, here he is!”
“That city-guard beast—always tossing carelessly. Can’t it ever throw more precisely? Every time, we have to scour the streets.”
“Exactly. It’s not easy for us to get new children.”
Before Lu Chuan could sprint away on his stubby legs, they rushed over, laughing, and pinned him down.
His strength had waned, but his combat experience hadn’t. With a few kicks, he managed to land blows on each of their faces.
“Wow, this little one’s got strength!”
“So lively! Families will definitely love a child like this.”
“Yes, yes. Hurry, let’s bring him back. We can’t keep people waiting.”
They bound him tightly in their arms. His tools were sealed, leaving him no chance of escape.
When they shoved him onto the carriage, he noticed it already held several other kids his size. Their faces were etched with fear and doubt—like they couldn’t believe what had happened to them. Some tried to look calm, but none were making a fuss.
Clearly, Lu Chuan wasn’t the only one who had noticed the stone lions’ strangeness. They must have pieced things together too:
To enter the city, you had to abandon your original body.
Lu Chuan scanned the group. None seemed suspicious—yet, in truth, everyone was suspicious.
[Host, maybe that “Starry Ming” guy is among them.] #888 cautiously scanned. [Some are players, some are NPCs, but now that they’re all children, a lot can’t even be identified. You’ll have to be careful.]
“No matter. I was already disguised. Now that I look like this, as long as I behave, it’ll be hard for anyone to pick me out. What worries me more is—why did the dungeon make us kids at all?”
After all, systems trained players to clear dungeons and grow stronger. But stripping them down to powerless, helpless children—and sealing away items—what was the point? At best, it leveled the playing field. At worst, it turned them into lambs for slaughter.
If even one story NPC harbored ill will, none of them could escape.
“Relax,” the driver laughed. “Didn’t you come to this city seeking immortality? This is immortality. Starting over from childhood is a divine blessing. Don’t waste it.”
“That’s right, that’s right.”
“You had the courage to come, and the city-guard beast chose you. That means you’re destined for this.”
They chattered amongst themselves, giving no one else the chance to speak, until the carriage pulled up to what looked like an orphanage.
The director, already waiting outside, greeted them warmly.
“You children are fortunate. Here in the City of Immortality, most people are immortal and can’t bear children. So families line up to adopt newcomers like you. But since they have no children of their own, you don’t need to worry—they’ll treat you well.”
“But we’re not children!” one boy snapped.
“No matter who you were before, you’re outsiders, and none of you are over a hundred. To us, that means you’re all children.” The director smiled kindly. “Since you’re children, you must take a child’s form. Now that you’re here, I’ll explain our rules. In this city, everything must be exchanged. Nothing else counts. Power, status, wealth—all useless here. You trade what you have for what you want. Only then will the gods be pleased.”
Her words were few, but packed with meaning.
She knew they weren’t real kids, yet still treated them as such.
Afterward, the children were taken to work—pulling weeds, sweeping floors, scrubbing windows. Only after labor were they given food.
An exchange.
Everyone in the orphanage lived like this. Adults too had to work for their meals. The only difference was, children got slightly better food. The staff didn’t complain; they seemed accustomed, even content.
For now, Lu Chuan lay low and observed.
The more he saw, the more wrong everything seemed.
The orphanage was huge, but fewer than a hundred children lived there. None cried or fussed—clear evidence they weren’t real kids.
Looking out further, Lu Chuan noticed the streets: filled with young men and women. Not a single elder, not a single child.
Even the orphanage director looked about thirty, though her eyes carried an ancient weariness.
From appearances, this was truly a city of immortality.
Its people never aged.
Few used money; most bartered. Shops sold a mishmash of goods—or rather, traded them.
On the surface, it looked like paradise.
Everyone smiling. No grief, no strife.
But Lu Chuan wasn’t fooled.
“This is impossible,” he said firmly. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch—let alone one for everyone. How can every resident here be immortal?”
Even a god couldn’t hand out blessings wholesale.
He recalled the dungeon’s special clearance requirement: find the city’s god and awaken them.
Meaning—the god was likely hidden among the residents, asleep. Playing their own game, dragging everyone else in.
That fit a god’s usual style.
But in such a vast city, with the god disguised—how could he find them?
No wonder it was a special requirement.
Worse, with his weakened child’s body, his perception and control were blunted. His cunning was useless if he couldn’t act on it.
This body couldn’t fight, couldn’t sense, couldn’t even climb onto a bed without scrambling.
“System, can my body grow faster?” he asked one night after struggling up onto his cot.
[…Host, I scanned. This is a brand-new body. It’ll grow normally.] #888 said carefully. [Unless there’s another method.]
So he’d have to wait years?
No dungeon lasted that long. There had to be another way—just not one he’d found yet.
He sighed deeply.
“Good thing I came here alone.”
If his companions had seen him like this… it’d be blackmail material for life.
