Chapter 150
“These people… actually listen to you like that?” Shen Li muttered to himself when he saw a group of divine attendants and mother-hosts running around gathering intel for Lu Chuan, while Lu Chuan just dragged him and Cang Jiu to play cards.
Ever since finding Shen Li, Lu Chuan hadn’t lifted a finger—he just played cards with Shen Li and the Divine Attendant. At most he listened to reports from others, then even set up a “performance review chart” outside the door, marking plusses and minuses clearly.
The only thing Lu Chuan had to do was basic arithmetic under 10—easy as breathing.
Oh, and one more thing:
Whenever someone came to report, the tall Divine Attendant beside him had to remind him to hide the cards and pretend to be busy with documents.
Then when the attendants and mother-hosts delivered their hard-earned intel, Lu Chuan would put on a show.
“This intel isn’t detailed enough. You only found out where the lab is, but not who’s guarding it or what rules there are. Someone else wouldn’t even need me to say that—they’d think ahead on their own. If you’re this slow, I may have to reconsider who deserves to be team leader.”
“Oh, why was that mother-host sent back earlier? Hah, because he was useless. So many days and still no decent intel. Didn’t want the job? Plenty of others do.”
“I have high expectations of you. In your position, I could never do as poorly as you. But in the future, this position will be yours.”
“You’re also a Divine Attendant. Wanting to improve yourself isn’t wrong. When intel from the lab comes out, who do you think I’ll reward first?”
“Working with us is far better than staying with those fools.”
…
Lu Chuan spun them around until they were dizzy, and a simple check mark on the “performance chart” was enough to send them into ecstasy, as if glimpsing a glorious future.
Even Shen Li could see that these people had thrown fertility and breeding aside, now consumed by ambition to trample others and climb higher.
And the reason they were swayed so quickly was simple—Cang Jiu was right there.
Even as just an avatar, the [God of Desire]’s influence was enormous.
Shen Li, being honest by nature and boosted by his Master-Rank player buff, was barely affected. But for these divine attendants and mother-hosts—like blank slates untouched by desire—this was their first taste of ambition, and they were burning up with it.
Thanks to his silver tongue, Lu Chuan had already collected enough intel to fill a booklet.
“Strength in numbers really does pay off. This is much better than running around ourselves,” Lu Chuan marveled.
Have some shame.
Shen Li thought Lu Chuan’s shamelessness had no limits.
“We’ve already confirmed the locations of both the lab and the nursery. Cynthia and Lilus should be in those two places. When do we try to rendezvous with them?” Shen Li asked. “Even if we can’t yet, we need to get them the intel so they won’t worry.”
“With Cynthia’s brains, she already knows what we’re doing. The lab is obviously the core of this dungeon, the [Mother of Fertility]’s most valued site. Causing trouble there will require extreme caution. Given how smoothly things are going here, Cynthia’s surely been pulling her weight. As for Lil… honestly, I’m considering using him as bait,” Lu Chuan said bluntly, stroking his chin.
“Bait?” Shen Li thought for a moment, then understood. “You want to exploit Lilus’ half-human, half-NPC bloodline?”
“Exactly. That’s what the [Mother of Fertility] craves—a powerful, unique being. You’ve seen it: her so-called divine attendants are just attempts to steal other gods’ power. But divinity without godhead or authority is hollow—at best it produces unstable godspawn powers, usually from low-tier god bloodlines. Compared to Lilus, their potential is nothing.”
Lilus and Cynthia wanted to kill the [Mother of Fertility] precisely because she was the only one capable of creating beings like them.
So if Lilus revealed himself, the [Mother of Fertility] would be drawn to him inevitably. In this dungeon, his allure to her might surpass even Messiah’s.
“…Lil would probably agree. Cynthia, maybe not,” Shen Li answered seriously after a pause.
Lilus was confident and proud; being bait for a god wouldn’t bother him. But Cynthia might not accept it so easily.
If Cynthia didn’t truly care for him, Lilus wouldn’t be such a sister’s boy.
“So it’ll depend on Cynthia’s stance. Only if she agrees will this plan work.” Lu Chuan’s tone grew solemn. “If Lilus really draws the [Mother of Fertility]’s eye, she’ll send him to the lab for study. One way or another, that still brings him under Cynthia’s sphere of influence. For us, there’s hardly any risk. The only danger is the unexpected variables we may face along the way.”
Moreover, the Mother of Fertility was still a god, after all. Who knew what other ideas She might have — and that could put Lilus’ life in danger.
“Do me a favor,” Lu Chuan turned to Cang Jiu. “Write a letter for me in gold. I’ll find a way to get it to Cynthia. I’ll dictate, you write.”
Cang Jiu nodded.
“How do you even write with gold…” Shen Li hadn’t finished speaking when he saw Cang Jiu pinch off a piece of gold from an ingot, stretching it as if pulling dough, turning it into a sheet of gold leaf as thin as a cicada’s wing.
Lu Chuan briefly explained his plan, only omitting Lilus’ name, replacing it with “younger brother,” just in case something went wrong and revealed Lilus’ identity.
Cang Jiu then skillfully folded the sheet of gold over and over, until it was no larger than a fingernail — easy to hide in a palm and slip past any search.
Gold was really quite useful.
Shen Li couldn’t help but have that thought.
He must have been influenced by Lu Chuan.
“The laboratory is heavily guarded,” Shen Li said. “Getting this message inside will be extremely difficult.”
“Among the hosts we found, quite a few are already pregnant — one is even close to giving birth,” Lu Chuan replied calmly. “And that host is carrying a god-servant’s child, very likely to give birth to another servant. A host capable of birthing a servant is often on the brink of death. If they start feeling unwell before the servant is born, the lab will definitely intervene. At that time, these near-delivery hosts will be sent into the lab.”
“…Lu Chuan, they’re still expectant mothers. If word gets out about what you’re planning, your reputation won’t be great,” Shen Li said, a bit worried.
“First, they’re not mothers — they’re fathers. You saw it yourself: the male bodies are much stronger. And these god-servants aren’t even born in the womb; they’re formed through condensed power. So don’t get sentimental. Second, in this dungeon, every pregnant host is disposable, especially the ones carrying god-servants. They’re all one-time consumables. If they make it into the lab, the researchers will save them for the child’s sake. If not, their only fate is being torn apart from within by the tiny servant in their belly. I’m not harming them — I’m saving them.” Lu Chuan would never allow himself to fall into a moral pit.
“…That does sound reasonable,” Shen Li admitted hesitantly.
“Of course it’s reasonable,” Lu Chuan said, rolling his eyes. “Just follow the plan.”
“But those hosts might not know Cynthia. What if they pass the message to the wrong person, or one of them betrays us? That could put us in danger.”
“They won’t,” Lu Chuan smiled. “I’ll give the pregnant host a token to deliver. Cynthia is smart enough — she’ll understand.”
A god-servant was about to be born, but the pregnant host suddenly seemed unwell, as if someone had bumped into him, forcing an early delivery.
Lu Chuan and Cang Jiu quickly gathered a large group of servants and hosts, rushing to the lab and pleading with the researchers to save the host.
“This host is carrying a servant — maybe even a variant. It’s the finest gift we can offer the Mother. If something happens, She’ll be furious!” Lu Chuan said righteously. “We won’t trespass on your territory, but as the leader these hosts trust, I must take responsibility for them.”
His impassioned words moved the hosts deeply. Even those who’d been skeptical of Lu Chuan before now looked at him differently.
None of them realized this entire scene was orchestrated by Lu Chuan.
The lab staff hesitated. They couldn’t just slaughter the crowd, so they went inside to consult higher-ranking researchers.
Meanwhile, Lu Chuan seized the chance: he subtly slipped the tiny gold piece into the hand of the nearly-delivering host.
“This contains something the researchers love — a drop of our god-servant’s blood. They’ve wanted it for ages. You’re only carrying a low-ranking servant; the researchers may not bother to save you. With this, offer it to them, and they’ll protect you,” Lu Chuan whispered. “But choose carefully. Aim for a young, easygoing female researcher. If you pick one of the cold-hearted ones, they’ll only care about the baby, not you.”
The host, lying on a stretcher, clutched the gold tightly in terror.
Lu Chuan glanced at Cang Jiu — was the message inside sturdy enough not to get crushed?
Cang Jiu gave him a reassuring look, then lowered his head slightly to meet the host’s eyes.
For a moment, all that filled the host’s mind was the instinct to survive. Images of discarded hosts, ruined after childbirth, surfaced in his thoughts. Even if he tried to comfort himself with “loyalty to the Mother,” his brain wouldn’t obey.
Cang Jiu looked up. The host’s grip on the gold slackened a little — but he now knew what he had to do.
“You can’t all go inside,” the lab personnel soon returned. “Only the host can enter.”
Several interns carried the struggling host inside, while the others were turned away.
Lu Chuan put up a token fuss, then allowed himself to be “persuaded” to leave.
Inside the laboratory.
Cynthia frowned slightly, asking her researchers what had happened outside.
They relayed everything: a pregnant host in distress, servants and other hosts gathering noisily at their door.
“Has this happened before?” Cynthia asked. “If so, just handle it as usual.”
“It’s rare,” one researcher admitted. “Lately, though, the servants and hosts have been roaming farther and acting strangely. They used to stay quiet.”
That was because Lu Chuan hadn’t been here before.
Cynthia immediately knew he was behind this.
“Where’s that host? I’ll take a look,” she said.
“A mere host hardly requires your personal attention,” her subordinate protested nervously.
“The embryo we’ve been studying hasn’t shown progress. Observing other deliveries could be helpful,” Cynthia replied casually. “Lead the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The struggling host was carried deep into the lab. Seeing the researchers bustling all around, his survival instinct reached its peak.
But now he didn’t know whom to give the item to.
Find a young female researcher — their hearts were softer…
But everyone wore protective masks; he couldn’t tell who was male or female!
What should I do? Am I going to die here?
For a moment, the host was nearly overwhelmed.
Elsewhere, Cang Jiu and Lu Chuan walked along.
“Cynthia should understand my meaning,” Lu Chuan murmured. “If not, we’ll wait for the next chance.”
The lab’s defenses were even tighter than he’d imagined, and Lu Chuan could sense divine power flowing all around. The servants near the lab were all as quiet as chickens, clearly intimidated.
The Mother of Fertility spared no effort in securing Her domain.
Cang Jiu glanced at Lu Chuan — he didn’t seem as composed as he appeared. After all, they were plotting under a god’s nose.
The struggles between gods weren’t easily baited without serious moves.
Cang Jiu raised his eyes slightly, letting the power of the God of Desire quietly seep out.
Under that cover, no one noticed the presence of another small candidate for divinity.
At that moment—
The distressed host felt his mind go blank.
For a brief instant, his eyes turned gold.
Those consumed by desire are also devoured by it.
Then he saw a researcher walking toward him — clearly of high rank.
Almost involuntarily, he stretched out his hand, passing the gold discreetly as they shook hands.
“Save me… I don’t want to die.”
Cynthia, taking the gold and slipping it into her sleeve, studied the host. Something about him felt off.
But soon the host, exhausted, collapsed into unconsciousness.
Deep inside the lab, an embryo that had long remained still stirred faintly.
