Chapter 171
888, eager to claim credit, looked at Lu Chuan and said happily:
[Host, I found Wen Renxu! He matches exactly the description the vice-captain gave us.]
The vice-captain had mentioned Wen Renxu’s multiple personalities, each with different abilities, so when #888 scanned, it focused on anyone with a huge number of developed game skills — and, sure enough, there he was!
Lu Chuan was slightly stunned, momentarily blank. “Impressive, Little System — you actually found him?”
[As long as the main system doesn’t deliberately block me, I’m powerful.] #888 puffed out its tiny chest, proud.
[I am the system tasked with raising you to godhood. This much is nothing.]
Lu Chuan showered #888 with praise.
[Host, hurry. I think Wen Renxu noticed me during the scan — he’s really strong,] #888 said contentedly after basking in the compliments.
“All right, you lead the way. I’ll pack up and leave right away.”
Lu Chuan gathered items from his safe, also taking along various plant seeds and soil samples.
He remembered that in the trial dungeon, all land was polluted, crops barely yielded life’s necessities, and plants were mutated beyond edibility. So this time, besides collecting gold, Lu Chuan had deliberately gathered soil and seeds — they might become valuable later.
One had to believe in future tech: surely there’d be a way to grow things again. Seeds were the root of all life; it was wise to prepare.
Meanwhile, Wen Renxu’s personalities were arguing heatedly about whether to flee.
“What’s the point of running? Leaving is admitting defeat.”
“It’s rare someone can even detect us — meeting them isn’t a big deal. I’ve got escape skills anyway.”
“We just arrived and they’ve already found us. Obviously they’re after us. Run!”
“This feels like the main system’s power. I say retreat first, see who they are.”
Over a trivial matter, the personalities all had their say. Finally, they voted. Personality Eight abstained; among the remaining seven, four voted to flee and three opposed, so they decided to leave and see if their pursuer could keep up.
Wen Renxu switched personas smoothly, used Teleportation, and vanished thousands of miles away in an instant.
[Host, he teleported!] #888 immediately updated Lu Chuan’s coordinates.
[That’s so unfair — how does he have that skill?]
Although #888 could locate Wen Renxu, it couldn’t identify his abilities, so this teleport move genuinely startled it.
No wonder Wen Renxu had climbed the deity rankings so quickly — that skill was absurdly useful.
“If it were that easy for the two of us to find him, I’d be disappointed.” Lu Chuan wasn’t bothered. Worst case, he’d just chase in another direction.
The world was worsening by the day. While chasing Wen Renxu, Lu Chuan ran into quite a few gods, and whenever he could fight or kill them, he did so without hesitation.
But even when he wiped out weaker gods, new ones always emerged—endless, as though no matter how many he killed, more would appear.
The truly terrifying part was the people who willingly turned to these gods for safety. No matter how good or righteous they were at the start, their minds inevitably became twisted.
Even players—already wary of gods—lost sanity with repeated contact. How could ordinary humans withstand it?
No nation could resist such power, beyond all reason and technology.
And it wasn’t just the common folk. Didn’t officials also worship evil gods? In fact, those born from politics seemed to do so even more.
It was almost certain: within half a year, this world would face its own apocalypse. How many would survive then?
But that was the way of things—inescapable.
Even the [God of Time] couldn’t change the world. All It did was drag players into such parallel worlds, where everything was real.
Lu Chuan chased Wen Renxu for a full half-month.
Each time he got close, Wen Renxu teleported away.
More troublesome than hide-and-seek.
Lu Chuan even started coveting the ability. It was too convenient! With teleportation, he could’ve messed around endlessly, making both NPCs and gods dance in his palm. He’d always restrained himself—not from lack of cunning tricks, but out of valuing his life too much to take reckless risks.
Next time, he decided, he’d make #888 upgrade his skills with a teleportation hack. First-hand proof—it was invaluable.
During this pursuit, Lu Chuan overheard plenty of citizens expressing admiration for Wen Renxu.
“That young man was really kind, helped us repair a lot of things.”
“Young man? I remember a tall, beautiful woman who singlehandedly drove off a gang of looters!”
“No, I think it was a middle-aged man. His voice was deep, steady, and he taught us how to stay safe.”
Yes. Even while fleeing from Lu Chuan, Wen Renxu still found time to help others. But his form and behavior changed each time—it was clear his alternate personalities couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and they had to surface regularly.
Behind the fashionable façade was constant suffering.
Who would’ve thought the protagonist was actually the savior-of-the-people, saintly type?
No wonder the vice guildmaster and Starry Ming idolized him so much.
“Wow, so he’s really that righteous and sunny type?” Lu Chuan rubbed his chin. “And that kind of main personality still spawned so many alternates? Interesting.”
Normally, people with multiple personalities were withdrawn or gloomy. Wen Renxu was the exception—cheerful, helpful, even selfless.
Perhaps it was his way of keeping himself from turning into a demon—his bottom line.
[Host, he ran off again.] #888’s voice sounded weak. Being able to track but never catch was exhausting.
The world was vast. How long would this chase last?
“System, just tell me where he is now. We won’t chase. Let him come to us.” Lu Chuan thought aloud. “He likes helping people, right? Perfect. Let’s see if he’ll return for that.”
888 had a bad feeling. The host was about to stir trouble again.
Of course, Lu Chuan wasn’t one to sit and wait.
He quickly devised a plan.
In the city Wen Renxu had just helped, Lu Chuan picked an abandoned district and set it ablaze, then spread word of the fire to Wen Renxu’s current location.
Spreading news was easy—just a phone call or internet post.
The world was falling apart, but some order remained. Messages still got through.
Only this one was exaggerated: the flames were described as “eternal, unquenchable, and ever-growing.”
“That’ll do. Whether he comes to save people or put out the fire, he’ll have to show up. I’ll wait right here.” Lu Chuan crossed his arms, looking every inch the villain. “If he doesn’t bite, next time I’ll claim I captured a Star Guild player and will kill them unless he comes. Sooner or later, I’ll hit the right nerve. Villains are tough to deal with—but good men? Even easier.”
Sometimes, #888 thought his host really did things that weren’t human.
For heaven’s sake, he was targeting a Guildmaster, not a god. If Lu Chuan went too far and made Wen Renxu hate him, what if the guild seat wasn’t handed over later?
888 worried endlessly, but didn’t dare say it aloud. The host was having too much fun.
Forget it. Let him be—he was never normal anyway.
Before long, Wen Renxu heard of the neighboring city’s eternal blaze.
The fire was said to be strange, impossible to extinguish. People were dying, fleeing in droves. Online photos—real or fake—spread wildly, while the authorities, overwhelmed, couldn’t correct the rumors.
Wen Renxu fell silent for a while, then prepared to switch personalities and head over.
“I refuse!” said the personality with teleportation. “This is obviously a trap. Go, and we’ll be caught.”
“An unquenchable fire? Sounds like the work of an evil god. Our mission is to hunt gods—we should check it out.”
“I oppose it. Too dangerous.”
“Same as always. Let’s vote.”
“I’m not voting.” The main personality, Wen Renxu, said coldly. “I’m going. Help me.”
Usually, he respected their opinions. But sometimes, he made unilateral decisions. Most of the time, they respected his call—but not always.
“Why should we listen to you?”
“This time, you’ll listen.”
“We’re already in a dungeon world. What’s left to debate?”
In his mindscape, Wen Renxu beat down all his alternates, then forcibly used [Teleportation] to reach the neighboring city.
What greeted him was just ordinary flames. He snuffed the towering blaze instantly with a single item card.
An eternal fire? That was it?
Wen Renxu went silent.
He realized he’d walked into a trap. But with his nature, not coming had never been an option.
“At last, Guildmaster, I’ve found you.” Lu Chuan’s performance was flawless. Seeing the tall, elegant young man, and confirming with #888 that it was indeed Wen Renxu, he rushed forward, grabbed his hand, and let tears well up.
“Wuu wuu, we’ve been searching so long, Guildmaster! The Star Guild can’t survive without you!”
Startled by the outburst, Wen Renxu forgot to pull away.
He stared blankly at Lu Chuan, racking his memory.
Only master-ranked players could enter this dungeon.
Since when did the Star Guild have such a young, master-ranked player? He had no memory of him.
He checked with his other personalities—none remembered Lu Chuan either.
But then the eighth personality, usually silent, surfaced and said coldly: “This man reeks of divine aura. Kill him, before he brings disaster.”
Of course, Wen Renxu wouldn’t kill someone claiming to be a Star Guild member.
He pulled his hand free, studied Lu Chuan quietly for a long while, then finally asked, “Who are you? Why do you call yourself a Star Guild player? I’ve never seen you.”
Hearing this, Lu Chuan knew Wen Renxu was willing to talk.
He lifted his head at last and examined him seriously.
Yes—the spitting image of the photo the vice guildmaster had given him. Even more handsome in person: sunny, striking, the kind of radiant man who could still pass for youth despite being in his thirties. Only his steady, mature eyes undercut that impression a little.
Clearly, the vice guildmaster—though she never said so—cared a lot about looks when it came to Guildmastership.
Lu Chuan projected his own thinking onto her, conveniently ignoring that Wen Renxu was still young here, two decades before he disappeared.
“I am Lu Chuan, the next Guildmaster of Star Guild. The vice guildmaster sent me to find you. She said only with your acknowledgment can I truly succeed you.” Lu Chuan smiled at Wen Renxu. “As for why you don’t know me—don’t you have any guesses? In a dungeon series like this, I can’t even guarantee we’ll meet again next time.”
Wen Renxu hesitated, looking at Lu Chuan’s unnaturally youthful face, the ambition and desire gleaming in his eyes. For the first time, he felt genuine curiosity about the vice guildmaster’s judgment.
He remembered that his vice guildmaster should have been the type who disliked someone like Lu Chuan.
“Damn, I’ve only been guildmaster for a few years, and now I already have to step down and hand it over?”
“No way, this must be made up. Isn’t the vice guildmaster totally loyal to us?”
“Something’s off. The main personality hasn’t spoken up.”
“Not just the main one—even Number 5 has barely said anything. Those two have always been our main force in clearing dungeons, but ever since we got here, they’ve been acting weird.”
Watching Wen Renxu’s expressions shift endlessly and his gaze flicker back and forth, Lu Chuan couldn’t help but complain quietly to #888.
“Novel and TV dramas make multiple personalities look stylish, but in real life, it’s actually pretty creepy.”
It was like watching someone constantly change into a different person right in front of you. Anyone a bit sensitive would probably get spooked.
[They’re probably having conversations between personalities.] #888 glanced at Wen Renxu and said, [Host, honestly, my conversations with you are kind of the same.]
Huh? That actually… makes sense?
Lu Chuan thought it over seriously. Talking with #888 in his head really was similar in essence to Wen Renxu’s multiple personalities chatting with each other.
[Exactly, Host. That’s why having me is enough. If you had more systems, wouldn’t you end up like Wen Renxu? Look at him—he can barely keep the others under control.] #888 took the chance to slip in.
Since the Main God System gave Wen Renxu’s personalities separate abilities, it meant the Main God recognized them as independent individuals.
Over time, with the Main God cultivating those alter egos, their skills weren’t far off from the main personality’s. Why should they obediently follow him?
In the early days, when Wen Renxu was still weak, the main personality could forcefully play the boss thanks to his advantage. But after becoming a Master-Rank player, everything was enhanced, the gap shrank quickly, and his situation deteriorated.
Being stuck in this dungeon for so many years wasn’t only because the dungeon itself was tough—it was also because he had to split much of his focus on fighting with his own other personalities.
Wen Renxu slowly closed his eyes, then suddenly asked, “How many years has it been now?”
Clearly, he had noticed the strangeness of this dungeon and quickly calmed himself down.
With enough abnormal events, once you eliminate every impossible option, the one left becomes the truth.
He still looked young, yet his vice guildmaster had already let a younger man inherit the Guildmaster’s position.
And when he cross-checked guild matters with Lu Chuan, the details were ones only someone very familiar with the guild would know.
On top of that, Lu Chuan had produced the [Infinite Holy Pistol]—a powerful item Wen Renxu himself had gifted to the vice guildmaster. If Lu Chuan had simply stolen it, that would mean the guild had already collapsed completely.
So the only explanation was that it had been given to him.
Which meant Wen Renxu must have been gone for over twenty years. Otherwise, the vice guildmaster would never have made such a decision.
No—Wen Renxu thought, even the vice guildmaster wasn’t cautious enough. If Wen Renxu couldn’t escape this dungeon, he shouldn’t have let the next guild master candidate enter at all. What if none of them ever got out?
It didn’t take Wen Renxu long to put it all together. Now he could look at Lu Chuan calmly, even with an evaluative gaze.
If he really was to hand the guild to this young man, he had to think it through carefully.
Lu Chuan’s flashy way of approaching him was so different from his own style.
Catching on, Lu Chuan immediately answered, “From the time you entered this dungeon and left our Star Guild, it’s been about twenty-three years. Starry Ming came looking for you too, but he might not arrive at this same point in time.”
“In my memory, Starry Ming is still a child.” Wen Renxu suddenly chuckled. “Has he made it onto the Master-Rank list?”
“Yes.” Lu Chuan nodded. “Whoever found you first could’ve had the upper hand in becoming Guildmaster. But honestly, his strength isn’t on my level. I’m stronger. See? I found you first.”
Lu Chuan even stepped on Starry Ming a little—so that even if Ming found Wen Renxu later, he’d be second in line.
“You really are impressive. You’re young, yet found me earlier than Starry Ming. No wonder the vice guildmaster favored you.” Wen Renxu nodded. “But I can’t just make you Guildmaster so easily. The divine aura on you is too strong. It’s hard for me to believe you’d truly dedicate yourself to the guild.”
The power Lu Chuan used to track him down clearly wasn’t normal player strength. That’s why Wen Renxu had teleported away.
And Lao Ba had said Lu Chuan carried a god’s aura. That made it even more crucial to be cautious. A Guildmaster determined the guild’s entire future—he couldn’t just hand it over lightly.
Inside Wen Renxu’s mind, his other personalities were in an uproar.
Some were pestering the main personality, demanding answers. Others wanted to interrogate Number 5, the other “brains” of the group.
Among all of them, the main and the fifth personalities were acknowledged as the smartest—the ones who usually solved complex story dungeons. The rest each had their strengths, but couldn’t compare in that department.
Now, the main personality and Lu Chuan were conversing clearly, but the others couldn’t follow. So they turned to Number 5.
“It’s simple,” Number 5 muttered from the corner. “This series of dungeons is tied to the God of Time, so timelines are messy. If we’ve been trapped here for over twenty years, then naturally someone from the guild would come looking for us. Because of the timeline confusion, that person from twenty years later is standing right in front of us. Lu Chuan is from that future we remember. Since we never escape, the vice guildmaster had to choose the next Guildmaster.”
The others were stunned.
They had to sort this out.
So even though they’d just entered the dungeon, they’d actually be stuck here twenty years? And the guild members traveled across time to find them?
Ridiculous.
“No reason to doubt it. Remember the trial dungeon? We crossed timelines just to get here—that was already abnormal. This must be the dungeon’s starting point, which is why we met Lu Chuan here. Once we leave, we’ll head onto different timelines again and split apart.” Number 5 went on.
“If we worked together, maybe we could leave. But clearly, we won’t. We’re all fighting for the same body, and Lao Ba’s the best fighter. With this kind of infighting, how could we possibly clear it?”
The other personalities were incredulous. Yet the main and fifth personalities’ calm reasoning forced them to accept it.
Did this mean… they really were stuck here for twenty years?
