Chapter 163
Dragged out, Lu Chuan kept his face carefully pale and shaken.
Mainly because those people all seemed to recognize him, while he didn’t know them at all. Without system prompts, who knew what would happen if they realized something was off? Better to act terrified and keep observing.
“This rookie’s not catatonic, is he?” The tall one leaned down and nudged him.
Lu Chuan jerked back two steps.
“Looks like he’s scared witless. These days, rookies are really poor quality.”
“Give him some calming potion. Two days of sleep and he’ll be fine.” A skinny one produced a vial from nowhere, pinched Lu Chuan’s nose, and poured it down his throat.
Ugh.
Lu Chuan almost vomited.
[Current Sanity +1] The game system finally popped a small prompt.
He swallowed quickly, not daring to spit it out. A potion that raised Sanity had to be expensive—wasting it would be a crime.
“They’re lucky, really. Just happened to join when calming potions hit mass production. Back in the day, this stuff was rare. No way rookies got it.”
“Too coddled, if you ask me. They say newbie mortality has to stay under 50%. Ridiculous! My rookie batch had a hundred people. Only three of us survived.”
“Can’t be helped. Fewer and fewer want to join the Investigation Bureau. And we’re not even one of the famous units. If we get assigned any rookies at all, we should count ourselves lucky. Remember how you puked for days your first time meeting monsters? Don’t be so harsh.”
Lu Chuan listened to their conversation while quietly thinking about his own situation.
Fortunately, his identity here was that of a newcomer. These people didn’t know much about him, so for the time being, he didn’t have to worry about his cover being blown.
But from what they were saying, this world sounded very dangerous — the death rate was especially high.
“System, can you scan this world for me?” Lu Chuan decided to let his plug-in do a proper scan.
#888 didn’t respond.
“System? System?” Lu Chuan called several more times, but there was still no reaction.
His heart sank.
After so many dungeon runs, there had been very few times when he couldn’t reach #888. Whatever could cut off their connection had to be some kind of special power. Like back in Xi Jiangyuan’s dream —#888 had been calling him the whole time, but he couldn’t hear it. Now, it might be something similar.
After all, this was a dungeon that even made Guildmaster Wen Renxu deeply trapped in it; cutting him off from #888 was only natural.
Lu Chuan tried again to see if he could open his system space — sure enough, it wouldn’t open.
At least his skills weren’t sealed. Apparently, the Main God System wasn’t worried about players using their skills.
But he couldn’t use them anyway.
If a supposedly terrified rookie suddenly showed off powerful abilities, they’d definitely think he was some kind of monster!
Lu Chuan gave a bitter smile. It looked like he really had to clear this dungeon on his own.
Damn Main God System… if he ever got hold of its tail, he’d make sure to get his revenge.
“Senior brothers, I… what happened to me just now?” Lu Chuan pretended to have calmed down and asked nervously, “When I was in there, I couldn’t see any light, and those monsters just… just…”
“That was the simplest kind of Shadow Calamity,” the tall masked man explained. “As long as there’s a light source, they take on a solid form, and they’re terrified of it. All you need to do is splash Aurora Potion on them the moment you turn on the light — that’ll drive them off. They’re everywhere but not very harmful. Didn’t you learn such basic knowledge?”
“I… my mind went blank when I saw them. I couldn’t remember anything I’d learned.” Lu Chuan lowered his head apologetically. “Sorry for letting you down.”
“Forget it. At least he’s polite.”
“Let’s go. Don’t waste time.”
The other masked figures didn’t press him further, awkwardly changing the topic.
“Here. Useless as you are, our Night Squad only has one rookie — you. Do well. If you mess up again next time, we’ll send you back.” A short masked person tossed him an ID card and a protective mask.
Lu Chuan glanced at the card, hung it around his neck, and tucked it against his chest. With a shy smile, he put on the mask and trotted after them.
Great — his name and appearance hadn’t changed. It seemed the world had automatically assigned him this identity.
“Night Investigation Squad”… the name didn’t sound particularly impressive. After all, if someone like him could be accepted as a trainee, their overall strength probably wasn’t that high.
Which was exactly how he liked it — a squad without too much power was less likely to notice anything off.
But as they walked, Lu Chuan truly felt like this world was on the brink of destruction.
Hardly any normal plants could be seen. Either they were ferocious, man-eating growths with claws and fangs, or vague, towering shapes so massive they blotted out the sky and forced them to detour.
Occasionally an animal would appear — its eyes glowing bright red. When the team killed one, its blood turned out to be black.
Then the investigators expertly dug out its eyes and stored them in a box, burning the rest of the body until not even ash remained.
Lu Chuan watched as black smoke rose from the carcass, spreading to nearby plants and instantly withering them. Luckily, their protective masks kept them safe from the toxic fumes.
He also noted that the squad members were fairly strong — about as capable as average A-rank players. They carried all kinds of odd tools, and in desperate moments, they could unleash special powers. But using those abilities seemed to drain them badly, forcing them to drink calming potions.
“Scared stiff, rookie?”
“You’ll get used to it. Still, you dodged fast back there. Guess you’re timid, but your combat training isn’t bad.”
Lu Chuan was surprised to be praised for his fighting skills.
He smiled awkwardly. “It’s all thanks to you seniors fighting up front. As long as I don’t drag you down, I’m happy.”
“Once we get back to camp, things won’t be as rough. Damn world — those mutated beasts keep getting stranger. That animal just now, only its eyes were worth anything.”
“Nothing we can do.” The team chatted back and forth, occasionally swearing, as if cursing was the only way to relieve their stress.
“This run was neither a success nor a failure. We got a pair of eyes, butLittle Chun had to use her power and down several calming potions. She’ll need to rest later.”
Little Chun — the short masked one — was, by her voice, a young woman. When she’d used her ability to stop that beast, it must have been something like “forced immobilization”: the creature froze instantly despite its earlier speed.
“No worries. My ability has the least side effects,”Little Chun replied. “I’m happy I could help.”
The group encouraged one another, resting briefly without eating or drinking. Lu Chuan guessed at the reason but said nothing, following them on their nonstop march. This obedience earned him some approval.
Though timid, the rookie was at least well-behaved, didn’t complain, and was passable.
When Lu Chuan finally followed them back to their so-called camp, he realized how desolate this world really was.
The “camp” was just a cave with a few old, not-very-warm sleeping bags. A single lamp gave off weak heat, barely raising the temperature inside.
Once inside, everyone removed their protective masks, and Lu Chuan finally saw their faces.
The tall one was a young man, about twenty, with stubble that made him look mature — but his bright eyes revealed his youth.
The short one,Little Chun, was a pretty, lively girl about Lu Chuan’s age, freckles sprinkled across her cheeks.
The rest were in their thirties at most, but all bore scars or patches of festering skin.
“Captain, we’re back,” Little Chun said as they approached a white-haired man.
Lu Chuan snuck a glance. The captain was surprisingly handsome despite the gray hair, and his left eye had been replaced with a mechanical one, looking oddly out of place in this ragged camp.
Little Chun gave an honest report on their gains — and on Lu Chuan’s performance. She still added some kind words, suggesting the rookie had potential if given practice.
The captain glanced at Lu Chuan, apparently indifferent. “Our food rations are limited. We can only take one rookie. He has three months. Take him on missions; if he survives, he stays. If he dies, replace him immediately.”
Lu Chuan froze until the tall man nudged him and whispered, “That means he’s letting you stay. Aren’t you going to thank him?”
“Oh, oh! Thank you, Captain! I’ll work hard and won’t let everyone down!” Lu Chuan stammered, bowing repeatedly.
Everyone chuckled at his flustered reaction. Newcomers were always jumpy — nothing to be done, since they’d all been rookies once.
Lu Chuan was secretly relieved. His acting had passed — if they’d thrown him out, he’d hardly survive here.
He still didn’t understand what this world was about, but at least he’d bought some time.
After the report, Lu Chuan received his food ration.
He glanced at the others’ portions — they were identical.
A lump of yellow mush.
That was his entire day’s food.
Good heavens, did he really have to eat this?
