Chapter 126
Now, three adoptive families stood before him.
The first: loving parents with prior adoption experience, plus a high-school-aged sister living in a dorm. Well-reviewed, stable, and affectionate.
The second: the wealthiest option. Both parents were city officials, but busy with work. They’d have little time to accompany him.
The third: a grieving couple who had once arrived at the city gates with their own child—only for the child to die on the journey. They’d been waiting for years for a chance to adopt. Now, at last, it was their turn.
When the orphanage director laid out three family profiles with detailed information in front of Lu Chuan for him to choose from, the game system finally chimed again.
[Main Quest 2: Enter any one of the adoptive families and begin a different branch mode.
Tip: Each of the three families contains clues to clearing the instance. Choices cannot be repeated.]
At this point, since the system had spoken, it meant he had no choice but to pick.
And most likely, the same applied to the other players.
Lu Chuan sighed inwardly. Why was Shen Li’s divine challenge so easy, yet mine is this hard? This damn system—such blatant discrimination. Is this fair?
Rationally speaking, the second family was definitely the best choice: both parents were officials in the City of Immortality, which meant he’d surely gain more secrets about it. A very obvious advantage.
But Lu Chuan didn’t dare underestimate the game system’s “quirks.”
“Director, which one do you think I should choose?” Lu Chuan threw the question back, hoping she’d decide for him.
“If it were me, I’d recommend the first family,” the director replied with a smile. “They’ve raised children before, so at least you’ll grow up safely. Plus, there’s an older sister at home. She doesn’t visit often, but she could still help you. As for the second family, I’d avoid them—the couple has a bad reputation. You’re too young to defend yourself if anything happens. The third family will spoil you and grant you freedom, but they’ll watch over you very closely.”
The meaning behind her words was clear:
The first family was safe and steady—no problems growing up there.
The second had its perks, but would be tough, and self-protection might be hard.
The third would listen to you, but you’d lose freedom.
“Then I’ll pick the first family. Your judgment is definitely better than mine,” Lu Chuan said with a big smile.
“Good.” The director nodded. “I’ll handle the paperwork. When the first family comes to fetch you, they’ll be your parents from then on. I’ll arrange for you to meet them this afternoon.”
Other children also needed to be adopted, so Lu Chuan couldn’t keep bothering the director. After finishing, he left.
“Director,” Lu Chuan asked as he hopped toward the door, “do all the kids who leave here grow up well?”
“Of course,” the director answered without hesitation. “In this city, wanting to die is harder than anything else.”
Lu Chuan smiled faintly and left without hesitation.
[Host, what are you worried about?] #888 asked curiously. [So far, this city may be strange, but for someone your age, there’s a lot of protection.]
If Lu Chuan had entered the city as an adult, things would be much harder. Without a stable job, he couldn’t participate in “Exchanges,” and life here would be miserable.
Worst of all, people in this city couldn’t die, yet all their senses remained.
Even if you couldn’t find work and starved for ages, you wouldn’t die. You’d just wither like a skeleton, skin stretched over bone, still alive.
Lu Chuan had seen such people while looking out from the orphanage.
But they rarely lingered for long: sooner or later, they found a way to “die,” or gained something to trade, then vanished from sight.
“Yeah,” Lu Chuan said, gazing up at the sky. “The system took our bodies and gave us a convenient start. If we grow up step by step, we can move freely in this city. But… could it really be that simple?”
This was, after all, his divine challenge instance.
Would the system really be that kind?
Shen Li’s Divine Challenge had included a hidden trap—he’d only escaped the god’s mental prison at the last moment.
What “gift” was the system preparing for Lu Chuan? He could hardly imagine.
It seemed he’d have to use some unconventional methods.
That afternoon, Lu Chuan met his adoptive family.
A couple arrived with their high-school-aged daughter to see him.
They seemed entirely decent—loving, and their daughter looked kind and gentle. No wonder the director had strongly recommended them.
Lu Chuan played the part of a shy child from beginning to end, head down, as though he’d already accepted his new home.
The director quickly discussed the details with the couple.
“Xiao Jin, we’ll come pick you up in a few days,” the couple said cheerfully, patting his head before leaving with happy smiles.
Lu Chuan waved after them, pretending to be bashful.
“They seem nice, don’t they?” the director said with a smile. “If all adoptive parents were like them, I wouldn’t have to spend so much effort choosing.”
Lu Chuan nodded politely. “Indeed. To keep such good tempers after entering the City of Immortality—not easy.”
“You’re a smart child,” the director said. “But it’s fine for kids to be clever, as long as they don’t cross the line. Everyone who comes to the City of Immortality has a past. Many families were rebuilt after they arrived. Being able to start over as a child makes you one of the luckiest.”
“Oh, then I’m really lucky.” Lu Chuan’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be off now, Director.”
On the orphanage lawn, other children were busy with their own activities.
As Lu Chuan approached, a serious-looking boy walked up to him.
“I heard you’ve already chosen an adoptive family?”
Lu Chuan nodded. “Yes.”
“Did the system notify you that Main Quest Two was complete?”
“No.”
“So no one got it.”
These children were undoubtedly all players.
At first, no one knew each other’s goals or factions. And once they realized someone among them might be the true target of this divine challenge, nobody dared act rashly.
After observing for some time, the players concluded that “Xiao Jin” was unlikely to be the challenger.
He was too well-behaved—working diligently, trading honestly, living as if he really were a child. By contrast, other players had tried to escape, sabotage the orphanage, even set fires.
Because Lu Chuan had acted so perfectly, he became one of the first to be chosen for adoption.
Many had been watching him; when they confirmed he hadn’t received a system notice, they finally relaxed.
“We’ve all been here for a while now, so we know each other. We’re probably just players dragged into this instance, so our clearance requirements are lighter. The real challenger isn’t among us,” the leader said seriously.
Lu Chuan—the true challenger—smiled. “I think so too. We’re all about the same here.”
“In that case, we should exchange contact info,” the leader continued. “We’ll need to help each other. If the challenger starts causing trouble, we won’t be able to protect ourselves otherwise.”
“Oh, which guild are you from?” the leader suddenly asked.
“I’m from the Abyss Guild,” Lu Chuan answered without hesitation, pride in his tone. “In the last dungeon, we ran into an instance mutation. I used an escape item and unexpectedly got pulled into this one.”
“No wonder you’ve been keeping to yourself—a top player from one of the Five Great Guilds,” the leader chuckled, extending his hand. “I’m Fu Lansheng from the Resurrection Guild. Nice to meet you.”
After everyone introduced themselves, Lu Chuan realized there were quite a few members of the Five Great Guilds here. Compared to the system’s usual habit of tossing randoms together, these were elites among elites.
This instance was going to be tough.
They exchanged contacts and agreed to meet at the amusement park near the orphanage on the last weekend of each month. Only then did they part ways.
[Host, you really played your role well,] #888 remarked. [That Fu Lansheng threw that sudden question to trip you up.]
Surprise questions usually tripped people into bad lies.
But Lu Chuan wasn’t “normal people.”
For him, lying was second nature.
“Just habit,” Lu Chuan said casually. “They weren’t being honest either—I smelled a bit of alcohol on them. Tell me, why would an orphanage have alcohol?”
[Host, you mean… they’re planning something?]
“We’ve all picked adoptive families, but the system prompt hasn’t appeared yet. Maybe it’ll trigger only once we actually move in.” Lu Chuan spoke lightly. “But something’s off about this orphanage—we just can’t see it yet. These players are all elites; of course they’ll try something bold.”
Like arson.
A player had already tried it once, though the fire was quickly extinguished. But the attempt had planted an idea.
If the orphanage’s secrets couldn’t be detected normally, then when flames forced everyone’s hand, they could see what the director rushed to save first—that would reveal what was being hidden.
Crude, but effective.
Even if it failed, no problem: they were just kids, too young to “know anything.”
[Host, are you planning to help them?]
“Of course not. I’m a good kid, so naturally I have to tattle.” Lu Chuan smiled. “I’m the challenger of this dungeon, and only I get to do outrageous things. No one else can steal my spotlight.”
That last part was clearly the real reason.
#888 thought to himself seriously.
And Lu Chuan was a man of his word.
That very night, he found a chance to complain, “I smelled alcohol on some of the older brothers and sisters. Did they forget they’re children now and aren’t supposed to drink? I never drank before either.”
It was extremely snitchy.
The director just chuckled and patted his head. “You did well. I understand.”
“Director, everything comes with a price. I’ve told you their secret—shouldn’t I get something in return?” Lu Chuan seized the chance.
“What do you want?” the director asked, amused.
“That depends on what you think I need.” Lu Chuan flashed a sly grin. “I believe you can tell me what’s most important for me.”
“What you need now is simply to grow up well. But in my hometown, we usually give children red envelopes.” The director thought for a moment, then pulled a red envelope from the drawer and handed it to him. “Smart child—maybe you’ll like this.”
Lu Chuan squeezed the envelope and immediately recognized the texture.
Oh ho—it was a small piece of gold.
He could tell at a touch.
In this city, people mostly bartered, rarely used money. And because of that, gold’s value had only risen higher.
Everyone here had come from the outside world, and gold was universally recognized. By now, it had even become a standard medium of exchange.
But this city’s gold was different. Whether due to some unique craft or divine factor, their gold carried a reddish tint, making it instantly recognizable.
Only that kind of gold could be used. The gold Lu Chuan held was useless trash.
Rumor had it that this reddish gold was blessed by the gods and only existed in the City of Immortality. Once taken outside, it would lose all value and vanish into nothing.
So Lu Chuan had no real interest in collecting flashy but useless trinkets.
Still, since the director offered it up, he didn’t refuse.
He pocketed the gold and sat back, ready to watch the show—curious to see what kind of clash would erupt between the director and the other players.
But strangely enough, that very night, the orphanage suddenly caught fire.
And it started in the director’s office. Clearly, some players realized the leak and struck first, catching the orphanage off guard.
Lu Chuan’s room was affected too, flames roaring in. He had to wet tissues with water, cover his nose and mouth, and charge outside.
On the way out, he glanced at the office.
It was almost completely consumed, and through the blaze, he saw the charred, unrecognizable figure of the director.
There were indeed capable players among them.
Lu Chuan thought grimly. To move so fast, without being discovered, meant they had been thoroughly prepared. With the director burned like that, recovery—if at all possible—would take a long time.
Yet the next morning, that same director appeared before them, completely unharmed. She even looked younger.
She showed no signs of injury or trauma at all.
That wasn’t normal.
Even if the city’s residents didn’t age or die, they still needed to eat, sleep, work, and rest. That meant aside from immortality, they were basically the same as ordinary humans.
Someone burned alive the day before should at least tighten fire safety, set some rules, or investigate the arsonist.
But the director did nothing.
Instead, some of the other staff were missing, and the orphanage had to post recruitment notices to hire replacements.
“Good morning, everyone.” The director greeted them with her usual smile. “The fire has been put out. No need to worry.”
Lu Chuan and the other players exchanged looks. In each other’s eyes, they all saw the same fear and dread.
It wasn’t right.
Such severe burns couldn’t heal so fast, not even with healing items. And they had tampered with the fire itself. Unless there was some extraordinary force at work, recovery should’ve been impossible.
This director was definitely not ordinary.
Suppressing his doubts, Lu Chuan pretended nothing was wrong. But inwardly, he quickened his pace to get into a foster family, pestering staff every day about when his new parents and sister would pick him up.
Seeing his eagerness, the staff even helped hurry things along.
With both sides cooperating, his adoption process moved quickly. Within days, the paperwork was complete, making him the first child to leave the orphanage.
Because of this, nearly every other player came to see him off—reminding him to be careful, to work together, and offering plenty of advice.
Lu Chuan nodded with a smile. Whether he truly listened was his own business.
His new parents drove over in a car to fetch him, their faces beaming as though they’d found new hope.
The high school “sister,” however, was cold and distant. She sat silently beside Lu Chuan in the backseat, saying nothing.
“Did you do poorly on your exams, sis? The director said high schoolers are under a lot of pressure, and I shouldn’t bother your studies.” Lu Chuan tried to draw her out, hoping to learn something.
“You don’t need to cozy up to me.” She shot him a disdainful look. “You’ll find out soon enough why they adopted you. My main account’s useless now, so of course they need a new one to raise.”
“If that’s the case, then I’ll share your burden. I’d be happy to help you, sis.” Lu Chuan replied with innocent sweetness.
She nearly gagged in disgust and ignored him after that.
When they arrived, his “new home” was warm and welcoming.
“Xiao Jin, this will be your home from now on. Whatever you want, just tell us.”
Lu Chuan smiled sweetly, looking every bit the innocent child.
“Mom, Dad, I really like it here.”
He switched to calling them parents without a second thought, perfectly shameless.
After all, if they were unlucky enough to be his parents, why should he mind?
He was warmly welcomed. Dinner was lavish, though the sister only ate a little before excusing herself to “study.”
Lu Chuan also had his own bedroom, decorated with care to look cozy and child-friendly.
“Goodnight, Xiao Jin.”
“Goodnight, Mom, Dad.”
His new parents kissed his forehead before retiring.
Lu Chuan opened his eyes, glanced at his short arms and legs, and sighed.
Then he pulled out a bugging device from his system space.
Since his skills and items were often sealed, he’d bought extra tech gadgets like wireless bugs.
Sometimes, they were more useful than magical tools.
Like now—just a hug was enough to slip bugs onto his new parents, giving him a way to eavesdrop as long as he wasn’t discovered.
“…Xiao Jin’s asleep now.”
“He’s so well-behaved, so sensible. Nothing like our daughter.”
“This is the kind of child we wanted.”
“Yes. The exchange with the director was worth it.”
“Our daughter… she clearly wants to leave us. I saw her college applications—she wants to go to the edge of the city, far away.”
“Oh, what a bad child. We spent so much to get her, and this is how she repays us?”
“Use her to help Xiao Jin grow faster.”
“Good idea. I want Xiao Jin older, too. At this age, you can’t tell much. Last time we suffered because we didn’t realize our daughter would be so rebellious.”
“Exactly. This time we can’t lose out.”
…
The more Lu Chuan listened, the stranger it sounded.
What did they mean by using her to make him grow faster?
Could growth really be “traded”? And if parents could use their children for exchanges, what about the children’s own will?
These people talked in such warped ways.
Oh, and that sister spoke strangely too.
Lu Chuan thought for a moment. Maybe he could visit her under the pretense of going to the bathroom—perhaps they could end up in the same boat and face things together.
But then the bug crackled with static.
His “parents’” voices grew faint, drowned by the hum of some incantation. Under the force of that mysterious power, the bug went dead.
Suddenly, Lu Chuan’s whole body hurt.
His arms and legs stretched rapidly, his entire body forcefully elongating, pain so sharp he nearly blacked out.
[Host, maybe use a skill to counter it? You look like you’re in agony.] #888 said worriedly.
“No.” Lu Chuan rejected at once. “Just bear with it, it’ll pass. Why waste money? It’s only growing pains.”
In barely half an hour, Lu Chuan had turned into a twelve-year-old boy.
When he opened the door, he saw his bargain-price parents holding the hand of a little girl, smiling at him.
“Xiao Jin, this is your little sister. From now on, you must be a good big brother and take care of her.”
