Chapter 172
Faced with Wen Renxu’s doubts, Lu Chuan could only smile.
What could he say?
That he carried two divine seeds? Or that his soul had already partly turned divine?
Either way, he’d have to explain the source of his divine aura. The more he said, the more holes his lies would spring. That would backfire.
He couldn’t come up with a flawless excuse to fool Wen Renxu. The man wasn’t easy to deceive. Better to say nothing at all.
“But the fact you even reached me shows both your strength and luck,” Wen Renxu said after some thought, smiling. “How about this—we make a bet. Since you’re here, you must also want out. Otherwise, even if I acknowledge you, being trapped here would make that meaningless. So I hope you’ll meet me again—not at this starting point, but by using your power to reach me in my real timeline.”
Lu Chuan raised an eyebrow, helpless. “Guildmaster, you don’t trust me?”
“If I trusted so easily, I wouldn’t have become Guildmaster.” Wen Renxu chuckled. “Sorry, but this is my first time meeting you. If you weren’t here aiming for the position, I’d gladly be friends. But when it comes to choosing a successor, I have to test you. Of course, if by our next meeting your mindset has changed, I won’t hold it against you.”
He lifted his hand and pointed at the sky. “Time’s running out—I can feel the pull. If you can, tell me about Star Guild and the other guilds. By your timeline, I’ve been stuck here over twenty years. What has the outside world become? And how did you get chosen by the vice guildmaster? I’m very curious.”
Lu Chuan could tell Wen Renxu truly was curious, and sincerely wanted to know what had happened outside.
His own impression of this Guildmaster had shifted again and again.
At first, he thought Wen Renxu would be the calm, steady type. But clearly, that wasn’t the case.
He had the caution and seriousness a leader should, and the strength of a top player. But it was precisely that normalcy that made him the strangest of all.
Suppose someone suddenly ran up to you and said they came from more than twenty years in the future, and that you would be trapped here for over twenty years with no way out. And because of the different flow of time, what is twenty years in the real world could mean hundreds or even thousands of years in this chaotic timeline instance. Could Wen Renxu really accept such a future without complaint?
But now was not the time for Lu Chuan to question Wen Renxu. On the contrary, he even had to take time to tell him stories.
888 watched as Lu Chuan bit by bit recounted the changes of the past twenty years outside, along with his polished version of his personal growth, and felt deeply moved.
[Host, right now you seem much more like the Guildmaster than Wen Renxu does.]
Lu Chuan just smiled and didn’t respond to #888.
“Oh, right. The power you used to lock onto me—it’s kind of like the Main God System’s methods. Is that something the outside players figured out, or is it your personal secret?” Suddenly, Wen Renxu’s temperament shifted, and he looked more naive and bewildered.
Without realizing it, his personality had switched.
Lu Chuan froze at the question, thinking he really shouldn’t let the system be praised too much—didn’t this just expose him?
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Lu Chuan answered cautiously.
“Oh, this is my ability,” Wen Renxu said calmly. “Each of our personalities has different abilities. You’ve seen the third one’s ability—it was teleportation. I’m the second sub-personality, born before him. My ability is mainly perception. Since I’m also a Master-Rank player, my perception is quite strong. Even if a god’s incarnation stood before me, I could still recognize them. The power on you is very mixed. I convinced the others so I could come out.”
Lu Chuan smiled while his mind raced.
Damn, this multiple personality thing is so troublesome.
[Host, I… I’ll shut up now.] #888 nearly cried. It had finally found a chance to show off its power properly in a dungeon, and already it had been exposed?
“Then how many kinds of powers do you think I have on me?” Lu Chuan threw the question back instead of answering Wen Renxu directly.
“Hmm… I sense the divine power of the Mother of Fertility and the God of Exchange, but it doesn’t come directly from you. You must be carrying items infused with their power. Judging by the intensity, probably divine seeds. But heavier than those is the aura of the Executor and the God of Desire.” Wen Renxu’s eyes began to glow, looking at Lu Chuan with such curiosity it was as if he wanted to dissect him on the spot and see how he was put together.
“The God of Desire has been reviving for a long time. The Main God System has tried to stop him more than once, so it’s not strange you’ve run into him. But what’s strange is—the Executor didn’t kill you? With such a strong divine aura clinging to you, normally you’d be judged as a collaborator with the gods and locked up immediately. But instead, the aura of the Executor on you is even stronger than the rest. Did you sign a contract with him?” Wen Renxu tilted his head, curious. “Or did you sleep with him?”
“Cough, cough.” Lu Chuan was completely thrown by this sudden bluntness. This personality really didn’t hold back. “It hasn’t come to that.”
They were supposed to be good friends—sharing dungeon runs, even giving each other gold.
But if one day they actually did…
Cough cough.
Lu Chuan didn’t dare think further.
What a joke. Cang Jiu was the God of Desire. If he so much as had an improper thought, it would be seen through instantly.
“These things aren’t important,” Wen Renxu dismissed his own words and stared at Lu Chuan seriously instead. “All of those are external auras, not something you were born with. At best, they prove your experiences are unusual—things ordinary people could never achieve. What intrigues me most is a strange aura you have, like a cool breeze tinged with rust. It feels familiar, but I can’t quite place the name.”
As he spoke, Wen Renxu tapped his own head in frustration.
His perception had always been extraordinary, enough to impress even gods. Yet while he could identify every divine aura around Lu Chuan, he couldn’t figure out this one that came from Lu Chuan himself. It baffled him.
Could it be that Lu Chuan was actually some rare monster in disguise, which explained why his aura couldn’t be recognized?
“Uh… Guildmaster, this aura you mentioned—does it smell like this?” Lu Chuan, stunned by his words, fished out a few pieces of gold and ingots from his pocket and held them out.
Wen Renxu nodded immediately. “Yes, yes, that’s it!”
Lu Chuan breathed a sigh of relief.
So that’s all it was.
Turns out my soul carries the scent of gold. I thought it was something serious.
Delighted, he thought: it seems even the heavens themselves acknowledge me—I was born to be the God of Wealth.
My soul smells like gold. Just thinking about it makes me happy.
Lu Chuan and Wen Renxu stayed together for about half a month.
During that time, they exchanged dungeon experiences, ideas, and techniques.
Aside from the eighth personality, which Wen Renxu kept tightly suppressed, Lu Chuan got to meet all the others. He went from being shocked to numb at Wen Renxu’s range of powers.
Teleportation, perception, absolute defense, summoned attacks…
Just the abilities of the four sub-personalities willing to explain themselves were enough to give Lu Chuan a headache.
And there were still other personalities whose powers remained unknown. He didn’t even know what Wen Renxu’s main personality’s power was.
But time was running out.
The world was on the brink of collapse. The social order that barely held on half a month ago had now completely vanished.
In just those two weeks of conversation, humanity’s numbers had been cut nearly in half, casualties caused by divine battles and civil strife. And the losses would only mount. Farmland was becoming barren, fruits and vegetables failing to grow. Livestock was mutating, turning inedible.
This was just the beginning.
Lu Chuan could already feel the tug of that “power of time” Wen Renxu had mentioned.
“Thank you for your company these past two weeks,” Wen Renxu said. “Even if we never meet again, I’ll try to leave you something. But after getting to know you, I believe you’ll find a way to clear this dungeon.”
With those words, Wen Renxu’s figure disappeared before him.
Clearly, he had been pulled back to his original timeline.
“…At least tell me the password. That lockbox was obviously left for me.” Lu Chuan grumbled. “Forget it. I don’t even know which timeline I’ll be tossed into next. Let’s wait and see.”
[Congratulations, player God of Wealth, on surviving the initial dungeon. The next dungeon node will begin transmission.]
The Main God System’s prompt came right on time—though not very helpful.
Lu Chuan closed his eyes, hoping the next jump would land him at a better point in time.
…
“F***!” Lu Chuan woke with a jolt of searing pain.
Opening his eyes, he found himself tied to an altar, his body slashed open in several places, bleeding heavily.
Below the altar, countless cultists of evil gods knelt in worship.
They chanted prayers endlessly, spilling the blood of their captives without restraint. If someone wasn’t bleeding enough, they would step up and cut them again.
What poison is this?!
Lu Chuan tested his body’s condition—and was stunned by how weak it was.
Wait. This body was way too fragile. Yet it really was his own body. That was the most frustrating part.
“System, you there?” Lu Chuan asked in his mind.
[Here, Host.] #888 quickly scanned his body and was just as shocked. [Host, my scan shows you were likely ambushed by several gods, which left your body this frail. You probably fought a battle at some timeline node, escaped successfully, and then had the bad luck to be captured by these cultists.]
Lu Chuan could only sigh. He just didn’t know when he would be ambushed by gods.
But really—being hunted by gods was normal. With the heavy divine aura he carried, wherever he went, gods would come after him.
Being hunted by gods—that was his fate.
Though he didn’t smoke, at that moment Lu Chuan badly wanted a cigarette.
“Do I have any items left on me at this point?” he asked, without much hope.
[Almost none.] #888 rummaged thoroughly before answering. [You still have a few A-rank and S-rank items. And about 10,000g of gold. You’re not at rock bottom yet.]
“…I looted so much, and now I’m left with this little? What kind of wastrel was I before?” Lu Chuan said bitterly. “This bit of gold isn’t even enough as starting funds. What good is it?”
[Well… at least enough to stop you from bleeding to death and escape this current situation.] #888 replied.
“Such a small matter, and you think it’s worth spending money on?” Lu Chuan demanded. “Watch me.”
Taking a deep breath, he suddenly raised his voice toward the sky:
“I sense the call of a god! I want to become a believer of your sect!”
The cultists, who had been draining blood and chanting prayers for others, froze mid-movement. They glanced at Lu Chuan, then quickly looked away again. In their eyes, this was just a sacrificial victim struggling before death.
“Your priestly dance is full of mistakes, and even your divine-descent ritual is written wrong. No wonder your god never comes to you if you’re so sloppy!” Lu Chuan changed his tone, speaking coldly to the cultist presiding over the ceremony. “I bet you were hastily pushed into the role of priest, weren’t you? This whole ceremony is riddled with errors — you’ll only earn the god’s disgust!”
That struck a nerve. The officiating cultists grew restless.
“A mere sacrifice—are you saying all this just to save your skin?”
“No,” Lu Chuan replied seriously. “I simply felt the god’s summons — and His displeasure with you. I am the sacrifice you’ve offered, and the god is pleased with me, but not with you. That’s why I’m saying this.”
As he finished, Lu Chuan flexed his wrists and quickly slipped free of the ropes behind his back.
Huh?
#888 was stunned: [Host, how did you untie the ropes?]
It hadn’t even seen clearly; Lu Chuan had just twisted a few times and the ropes were off.
“I learned it while working part-time at escape rooms,” Lu Chuan replied. “They tied me up casually, without any special knots. They probably thought I was too weak to escape and didn’t bother.”
Back when escape rooms were all the rage, there were plenty of temp jobs. Because Lu Chuan was too handsome to play terrifying NPCs, he did backstage support instead.
He’d memorized a hundred ways to tie a rope and a hundred ways to untie one — though he’d rarely had the chance to use them.
Still, extra skills never go to waste!
“Tsk, what a pity. Since I debuted as a player, only a handful have ever managed to bind me. These cultists could’ve bragged about it for life… too bad I broke free so soon. Watch me con them to death.”
Lu Chuan knew that in his current weakened state, fighting these cultists head-on would be suicide.
Besides, he’d already noticed they weren’t authentic devotees.
They didn’t even know which god they were supposed to worship. Judging by their outfits, they were more like a ragtag band seeking shelter — eager to court some god’s favor, but unable to find the right door, so they used crude rituals hoping some deity might notice them. If one did, they’d worship whichever it was. Pure “free faith.”
Their divine-descent rites and priestly procedures were all completely wrong.
The cultists, seeing Lu Chuan slip his bonds with ease, were startled but didn’t rush him. Instead, they instinctively formed a circle, blocking any escape.
“If I wanted to leave, none of you could stop me.” Lu Chuan sat casually on the ground, pulling gauze and a hemostatic potion from his system inventory to stop his bleeding before he went into shock. “I told you, I just received divine revelation — I should be your leader. Now, someone tell me: which god are you trying to worship?”
The cultists hesitated at his commanding tone, but one finally spoke up:
“We want to worship [Blissful Void Dream]. We’ve heard His realm lets people live happily forever, no longer wandering like we do.”
Blissful Void Dream, also known as the God of Pleasant Dreams, was born from the sweet dreams of countless beings — a lesser deity under the God of Dreams, yet still very powerful. It had once been the main source of Xi Jiangyuan’s strength, and even tried to seize the authority of the God of Desire, only to fail.
It was also an old acquaintance Lu Chuan didn’t know too well.
This god wasn’t weak; on the contrary, its strength made it covet Desire’s power.
Its followers were nothing like those mindless brood-worshippers of the BroodMother of Fertility; they were stranger, more fanatical.
For once you became its believer, you could command the dreamscape — becoming anyone you wished, living entirely different lives.
That sensation was addictive, impossible to quit.
Imagine: every night, when you slept, it was like crossing into another world — a vivid, perfect dream. Who wouldn’t be tempted? And as long as you kept your faith, you could enjoy that life endlessly.
To die for the god meant entering its realm, living in blissful dreams forever. In reality they might be mediocre or powerless, but in dreams, they possessed everything.
Such fantasies drew believers in droves.
The cult of Blissful Void Dream was unimaginably vast — people willing to die in reality to chase unending dreams. Otherwise, the god would never have dared challenge the God of Desire.
As the god’s high priest, the greatest gift was sending people into dreams — and killing through dream-power.
Lu Chuan, after clearing Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon, had obtained two items linked to dreams: the S-rank Dream Hypnosis (which let him put anyone — player or NPC — into a dream to extract all their secrets), and the A-rank Lingering Sweet Dream (which let him lead one or more targets into a pleasant dream of his choosing, up to ten times per dungeon).
But Lu Chuan had never used them.
First, most dungeons afterward involved gods — meddling with dream powers could accidentally spy on forbidden things, making the dungeons even harder.
Second, he suspected Xi Jiangyuan’s gifts might be tied to Blissful Void Dream. Using them might entangle him further with the deity.
He already had enough gods in his orbit to fill a mahjong table — he didn’t need another enemy.
Yet now fate seemed to steer him back toward Blissful Void Dream.
Conveniently, he even had dream powers on hand, perfect for posing as their leader.
The coincidence felt almost scripted.
Interesting.
Lu Chuan was now certain: Blissful Void Dream had set its sights on him, guiding him step by step closer.
But thinking carefully, that was no surprise.
Xi Jiangyuan’s Seed of Desire had been taken because of Lu Chuan, and that dungeon was destroyed. Blissful Void Dream, who’d hoped to corrupt Xi Jiangyuan and steal the seed, had failed. During that instance, it had even joined other gods in attacking Lu Chuan.
And with Lu Chuan’s ties to Cang Jiu, even a mere suspicion of a link to Desire would keep Blissful Void Dream from letting him go.
Since that was the case, he couldn’t be blamed for turning the tables.
He’d been ambushed in the dungeon, after all — collecting some interest now was fair.
“You’re truly lucky,” Lu Chuan said, eyes gleaming with mystery. “No wonder I just received divine revelation.”
He smiled faintly at the cultists. “Let me introduce myself — I am Xi Jiangyuan, the mortal incarnation of Blissful Void Dream!”
