Chapter 169
“Congratulations — I can’t believe your squad produced a legendary investigator!”
“Yeah, talk about luck.”
“Your group’s gonna level up like crazy.”
Acquaintances kept congratulating Little Chun, Ren Jie, and the rest — though not without a few jealous remarks.
Word had spread: the Dark Night Investigation Squad’s intern was a legendary investigator who’d saved Stardust City and beaten back the Omniscience God. Many were even voting to make him the new city lord.
Naturally, as Lu Chuan’s team, the Dark Night Squad’s status was rising fast.
Even their captain, who’d rushed back to the city, was as incredulous as Little Chun and Ren Jie. How could the Lu Chuan they knew have turned into a legendary investigator? But reality was undeniable — their group had struck gold.
The squad members were dazed, staying in their room, nervously replaying every interaction they’d had with Lu Chuan, wondering if they’d ever offended him.
Meanwhile, the culprit himself was busy fielding the eager greetings — and veiled interrogations — of other investigators.
A legendary investigator reappearing was huge news, but nobody would accept him blindly without questions.
Lu Chuan, unfazed, spun a seamless backstory. As for his past secrecy, he explained it as a matter of getting familiar with and adapting to his powers.
Of course, he had his own demands.
“I came mainly for Wen Renxu,” Lu Chuan said. “I believe he left something for me. Where can I find what he left behind?”
Silence fell.
Finally, an elder among the investigators spoke:
“Wen Renxu did leave something — we’ve been safeguarding it. But he said only the person he chose could claim it. Even if you’re a legendary investigator, you can’t take it unless you’re the one. Want to try?”
“Of course,” Lu Chuan replied without hesitation.
He’d revealed his player identity precisely for Wen Renxu’s keepsake.
Besides, he knew he was alone in this instance — even his link to #888 was severed. If he wanted support, he needed Wen Renxu’s legacy and the investigators’ help; otherwise, he’d be an easy target for the gods.
The elder led Lu Chuan to a hidden chamber and carefully produced a small box.
“Wen Renxu said this is a coded case. Only the one he designated will know the password. Each person gets only three tries. None of us knows what’s inside.”
The old man looked at Lu Chuan expectantly — more eager than Lu Chuan himself to see it opened.
If Lu Chuan unlocked it, he could take the contents and the guardians’ task would finally be complete.
They were just as curious as he was about what Wen Renxu had left.
Lu Chuan tapped on the box, a faintly puzzled expression crossing his face.
What the heck?
A password?
How was he supposed to know that?
Lu Chuan thought for a moment and tried Wen Renxu’s birthday—the vice guildmaster had told him that once.
Obviously, that failed. Wen Renxu’s birthday wasn’t the password.
“Looks like I can’t get into this thing for now.” Lu Chuan shook his head and pushed the lockbox back. “Leave it for later. When I figure out the right password, I’ll come back and open you up.”
“You still have two more tries, aren’t you going to test them?” the investigator asked anxiously.
“No need.” Lu Chuan waved his hand. “Trying randomly is pointless. Better to wait until I’m confident I’ve got the right one.”
The investigator holding the lockbox looked a bit disappointed, but still agreed.
Wen Renxu, perfectly fine while alive, had left behind a lockbox—but all these years, no one had been able to open it. That was… intriguing.
What exactly had he been thinking?
Lu Chuan wasn’t familiar with the former leader; everything he knew came second-hand, and surely differed from the man’s real personality.
Still, there had to be other traces of him in Star City. Those were worth investigating.
So, Lu Chuan decided to stay in Star City.
He couldn’t stand how things were right now anyway. If humanity kept developing like this, the evil gods would wipe them out sooner or later.
Survival here was already difficult, let alone economic or social development. Just training competent investigators alone nearly broke the whole city. Yet the more resources they funneled into investigators, the worse everyone else lived, and the cycle turned vicious.
In the end, it all came down to Wen Renxu leaving too soon. He never had time to properly plan out the city before vanishing.
And so, Lu Chuan became the new city lord—practically without dispute.
Some investigators did doubt his identity at first. But Lu Chuan gritted his teeth, bled a little, and used the God of Wealth’s defensive skill, letting them unleash their abilities on him without leaving a scratch. His absolute strength forced them to submit, and eventually they accepted him.
The first thing he did after taking charge was overhaul the eye-ingot system—carefully classifying types, setting rules for exchange and usage, turning them into true currency instead of just vague barter tokens.
Next, he launched efforts to improve civilian life, assigning investigation teams to seek out edible crops. He firmly believed there was no such thing as a truly inedible plant—only the wrong preparation. Expanding food variety was essential. After that, he pushed for developing tools and potions, and compiled guides on the disasters, cults, and rituals in this world, so investigators could learn systematically.
These sweeping reforms needed manpower, resources, and time.
But Lu Chuan wasn’t in a hurry. In this dungeon world, time was the one thing he had plenty of. He was laying foundations now—the stronger the investigators became, the more advantageous for him.
Problems did crop up along the way, but to Lu Chuan, who had led many times before, none of them were new. Solutions were easy. The real threats were the evil gods’ repeated assaults on Star City, all of which he repelled with the God of Wealth’s power. His prestige soared to its peak.
Only Lu Chuan, alone in private, shed tears of pain.
His money…
This world really seemed to have no gold.
The eye-ingots counted as wealth, yes, but he could not bear to treat eyeballs as collectibles. He had standards.
Hopefully Shen Li could refine more gold, enough to finish the Golden Tower with some left over. Otherwise, his constant use of the God of Wealth’s abilities might bankrupt him!
Thankfully, Cang Jiu had once gifted him an entire golden dungeon world—otherwise he would’ve been crushed by now.
By Lu Chuan’s fifth year as city lord, Star City was steadily thriving. His word was law. Even the former Night Investigation Team rose with him, quickly growing into a large organization that many investigators sought to join.
But as Lu Chuan consolidated power and collected all available records of Wen Renxu and other legendary investigators, he noticed a troubling pattern.
None of those legends had lasted more than twenty years in this world. Some hadn’t even lasted five.
Sure, the evil gods played a part, but these players weren’t ordinary—they weren’t all battle-maniacs, either. Some had taken the slow-and-steady approach, like Lu Chuan himself, yet none had endured long. That was… wrong.
So many players, and not a single one managed to survive long-term here?
Impossible.
The longer he stayed, the stronger his premonition grew.
This world was assimilating him.
Bluntly put, this dungeon was created by the [God of Time]. It was fundamentally different from his own world, where he was always an outsider. His player skills didn’t belong here. But the longer he stayed, the more his memories of being a player blurred. Even his God of Wealth skills sometimes required effort to recall, instead of flowing effortlessly like before.
Absurd.
Lu Chuan knew every detail of his abilities—costs, durations, optimal use—because each was bought with money. Forgetting them was impossible.
It wasn’t his mindset at fault.
If anything, his longing for gold had only deepened from deprivation.
That left only one explanation: the world itself was interfering.
But one thing about Lu Chuan—no matter what happened, he trusted his greedy heart above all.
If anything in the world was unchanging, it was that.
He suspected his peaceful days were numbered. The dungeon only had so many tricks; he just had to be ready.
This run was only beginning.
So Lu Chuan waited in Star City for the world’s next move.
Perhaps the dungeon underestimated him.
The [Mother of Fertility] and [Dreams of Nothingness] each attacked with their followers.
Too bad for them, Lu Chuan knew both well. He’d prepared for their weaknesses in advance, and they failed spectacularly.
By Lu Chuan’s tenth year as city lord, three gods who had already tasted defeat against him decided to ally. Together with their followers, they besieged Star City.
Such a large-scale action couldn’t be hidden.
Investigators were stunned. Three gods—joining forces just to crush a single city?
That was blatant cheating.
These gods were supposed to be rivals, locked in endless conflict for faith.
Yet it wasn’t entirely illogical.
Since Lu Chuan took over and improved civilian life, fewer and fewer humans had reason to worship evil gods.
Given the choice, who would rather be a god’s dog than a free human?
In Star City, citizens received subsidies and aid. Their children could grow up safely. Big investigation groups had developed black technologies to ease childbirth pain, and if parents didn’t want to raise children, the city would help. People found meaningful work as investigators, potion makers, farmers, service staff, or logistical support. No freeloaders here.
Life was steadily improving. Who would still worship evil gods?
Worse for the gods, every time they attacked, Lu Chuan arranged for reluctant slackers to secretly watch.
They would see firsthand how cultists chosen as vessels rotted into puddles of flesh and bone within minutes, trampled like garbage.
After witnessing that agony, no one dared to defect to the gods. If captured, they would rather die with the cultists than meet that fate.
Lu Chuan’s sweeping reforms had brought him unmatched prestige in this dungeon world. Quietly, he also left plenty of clues behind for future players—especially Starry Ming.
He was certain Starry Ming would appear in this timeline.
So unlike Wen Renxu, who left a locked box with a riddle of a password, Lu Chuan spared no effort to prepare clear guidance for Starry Ming, ensuring he would understand this world and its dangers.
Lu Chuan didn’t feel the slightest bit of tension from being besieged by three gods. On the contrary, he thought perhaps this dungeon world was finally about to reveal its true horror.
To be honest, based on what had happened so far, it didn’t feel like a dungeon that could really trap people. A slightly stronger player from the Master-Rank list could breeze through it as if it were just a game.
That meant the early stages were just a trial run, meant to lull players into complacency.
The real show was yet to come.
Lu Chuan didn’t know what would happen later, so for now he could only focus on doing his best with the tasks at hand—ensuring that, no matter what timeline he ended up in next, at least Star City would still be able to survive.
His calm, steady demeanor rubbed off on the other investigators in Star City.
If the City Lord could hold firm, then they couldn’t afford to lose face either.
It was the three gods who had come to attack Star City that felt something was amiss.
This new City Lord was somewhat different from the legendary investigators they had seen before. He always carried the aura of the God of Exchange around him. But even if he had struck a deal with the God of Exchange, no such bargain could last more than ten years.
And whenever they tried to forcibly invade Lu Chuan’s mind, some kind of premonition always stopped them.
That was why the three gods had decided to ally together—because they suspected that Lu Chuan held some clue about the truth of this world.
Yes, it wasn’t just the players who felt something was wrong with this world. Even the gods, after rampaging freely for so many years, had come to realize that something was off.
In this world, never mind righteous gods—even higher-order concept gods were rarely seen. Yet in their own memories, the high gods clearly existed. They knew their authorities, their divinities—yet those beings barely interacted with them anymore.
That might be brushed off in the short term, but after so long, it was difficult to explain away.
And then there were these legendary investigators—how could they appear in this world again and again without ever alerting the gods beforehand?
The gods didn’t understand, but they believed that if they could capture a legendary investigator, the answers would eventually follow.
So when legendary investigators appeared, they would attack them directly. And when none were around, they would assault the cities instead.
Before the great battle began, Lu Chuan rejected the other investigators’ suggestion to “run away.” Instead, he chose to stand calmly atop the city’s highest point, waiting quietly for the three gods to arrive.
If his guess was correct, it might be about time for him to be expelled from this timeline into the next. And if he was wrong, it didn’t matter—he still had a Seed of Fertility, which guaranteed at least one life.
Lu Chuan smiled at the three gods looming in the sky, his face calm and unflinching.
“You’re so damn slow. No wonder your divinity never levels up.” Lu Chuan mocked. “I’ve been stuck here nearly ten years. If you hadn’t come soon, I would’ve found my own way out.”
The three gods were dumbfounded.
Was this legendary investigator… mentally defective?
“Alright, enough nonsense. Let’s see your strength—and I’ll use you as target practice for my skills.” Lu Chuan downed several bottles of Calmness Potion, raising his Sanity directly to 70.
That way, when he thought about the money his skills would cost, it wouldn’t hurt quite as much.
Lu Chuan was self-aware enough to worry that, facing three gods, he might flinch at the expense and back out. So he boosted his sanity, ensuring his more reckless, big-spending side would surface.
That way, he wouldn’t hesitate when it came to unleashing his full defense against them.
Fortune God skill—A Throw of Ten Thousand Gold—activated.
Behind Lu Chuan, countless dazzling golden phantoms manifested, their brilliance enough to captivate any investigator, any cultist—and even any god.
What was that thing?
At the same time—
Shen Li, who was busy refining gold to build his golden skyscraper, suddenly watched the ingot he had just purified crumble into ashes before his very eyes.
???
Shen Li rubbed his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating from exhaustion.
Lu Chuan had already entered the dungeon, so how could his gold still be vanishing?
But the rate of disappearance only grew faster. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t stop it.
“Damn… I’d better record this. It’s not my fault! If the gold’s missing later, I don’t want Lu Chuan coming after me for it!” Shen Li’s instincts flared, and he immediately started filming everything.
Great. Looked like he was in for another round of overtime refining gold.
Meanwhile, Cang Jiu snapped open his eyes.
Found him.
Lu Chuan had just exploded with the power of the Fortune God, finally restoring the bond between them after countless failed attempts.
But for Lu Chuan to use the Fortune God’s skill so recklessly… could something have gone wrong?
Star City’s chronicles would later record: On this day, the legendary investigator Lu Chuan, facing the combined assault of three gods, remained smiling and unflustered, his presence awe-inspiring.
Even in death, his towering figure lived on in the hearts of every investigator.
[Player Fortune God has completed the “Forbidden Zone for Humans” trial dungeon. Transmission begins.]
[Please prepare yourself.]
When Lu Chuan opened his eyes again, he found himself in a modern city.
“We regret to inform you, Mr. Lu, that you were not accepted into our company. However, you have been entered into our strategic talent pool…”
The voice from his phone droned on until Lu Chuan irritably hung up.
What the hell?
Since when could any company reject him?
He was the Emperor of the Workforce, wasn’t he?
He was the one who rejected companies—not the other way around.
Wait. No—this wasn’t the time to argue that.
Lu Chuan realized he must have been tossed into another timeline.
He vaguely recalled hearing the Main God System say something about a “trial dungeon”?
There were trial dungeons now?
[Yes, Host. It was just a preview, letting you experience the apocalypse in advance,] #888 said gravely. [Now, the true beginning starts.]
Lu Chuan’s eyes lit up. “System, you’re back?”
[Host, I never left you.] #888’s voice was sweeter than ever. It had been watching Lu Chuan during the trial dungeon, and every time Lu Chuan called for it—proof that he had been thinking of it all along—it was deeply moved.
Truly, the Host loved it most.
Cang Jiu? Shen Li? They could all take a back seat!
Author’s Note:
888: The Host loves me best! ???
