Chapter 174
“And another thing: I want the diseases from your divine seeds to be highly contagious, spread by almost any means, but with a very low fatality rate and long incubation period.” Lu Chuan laid out his terms. “If a god banishes the disease, the patient recovers—but once recovered, they can be reinfected.”
He listed requirement after requirement.
[The Plague Rat] began to suspect this man wasn’t Death’s follower, but Death himself, in the process of revival.
For a human, his mind was far too vicious.
He didn’t want divine seeds for killing—he wanted them purely to torment people.
Even [The Plague Rat], who harmed mortals only to grow its own power, felt kind compared to him.
“…Anyway, that’s all for now. Just make sure you keep supplying me divine seeds, enough to infect the entire world’s humans.” Lu Chuan said with clear satisfaction.
Resigned, [The Plague Rat] gave him five seeds. “For now, I can only condense this many. If you throw them into a river, everyone who drinks the water will fall ill—but it won’t be fatal. And if the water is vomited back up, my divine power will lose most of its effect.”
“So weak?” Lu Chuan frowned. “You’re an evil god, aren’t you?”
[The Plague Rat] nearly lashed out, but with no way out, it had to continue explaining: “I’m using a human body. My divine output is limited. Divine seeds lose most of their power over time and distance. Only seeds from high gods retain their strength almost intact. But if you help me ascend to a middle or even high god, then—”
“I’m helping you, aren’t I?” Lu Chuan looked at the Plague Rat in astonishment. “As long as these humans drink the river water infused with your divine power and fall sick, they’ll naturally seek out divine help to cure their illness. By then, I’ll help spread your name around. Once other gods whose domains overlap with yours show up to cure them, you and I can work together to ambush those gods. After you devour their authority and power, your divine rank will naturally rise.”
Two birds with one stone—gathering faith while also strengthening power. Couldn’t be more perfect.
The only drawback was that this plan was bound to attract hostility.
After all, the Plague Rat’s method would inevitably “accidentally harm” many other gods’ followers. That meant stealing worshippers right off other gods’ turf, which would naturally earn their enmity.
But what did that have to do with Lu Chuan?
He was only responsible for coming up with the idea, not for cleaning up the mess afterward.
The Plague Rat was dumbfounded, not sure whether to praise Lu Chuan’s cleverness or curse his shamelessness.
Humans really were a peculiar species.
There was every kind among them.
“You… you…”
“Isn’t my plan great?” Lu Chuan said with a grin, playing with the divine seed the Plague Rat had given him. “I’m very popular among gods, you know. You’d better listen to me. Strike first or suffer later. You’re already not strong—if you don’t act proactively, once other gods finish eating meat and drinking soup, they’ll come after you next. As a god, you should understand the stakes here.”
The Plague Rat pondered for a long time before slowly nodding. “I will continue condensing new divine seeds. But how can I be sure you won’t betray me?”
“Easy.” Lu Chuan took out two items: God’s Loan and Contract of Proof.
“Pick whichever you want. As long as we write the terms of cooperation on it, betrayal becomes impossible.” Lu Chuan spoke earnestly. “You can check for yourself—I’ve never lied.”
The Plague Rat examined the items and was shocked. “What are these? Why do they contain such complex power?”
“Oh?” Seeing the god’s curiosity, Lu Chuan’s heart stirred.
Back in worlds under the Main God System, gods easily accepted the concept of artifacts and were wary of powerful ones. Some even imitated them, creating artifacts to reward their followers. Of course, those artifacts often ended up as spoils of the Main God System.
But in this world, without the System’s influence, gods bestowing artifacts only infused them with a fragment of their own power. They lacked the wide-ranging functions artifacts had. Lu Chuan had never interacted much with gods outside of battle, and he chose the Plague Rat only because it was low-risk and easy to fool.
“You’re really curious about these?” Lu Chuan asked. “What strikes you as off?”
“I can’t pinpoint everything, but… from what I see, these items contain at least a dozen different types of divine power, maybe more.” The Plague Rat thought carefully. “If I were to gift an artifact to a believer, I could only use something tied to me. My artifact could only have one function. The more versatile an artifact, the more kinds of divine power are required. But divine powers repel and cancel each other out. So to create something like what you hold—powerful enough to restrict even gods—the creator must have strength beyond that of gods and an understanding of all divine powers.”
By its estimation, even the so-called True Gods might struggle to achieve that.
For True Gods were only immortal within their own domains.
“Whoever made them must be very powerful,” Lu Chuan said lightly, brushing past the topic. “So, will you cooperate with me?”
The Main God System couldn’t possibly be weaker than the True Gods. Otherwise, he and Cang Jiu wouldn’t still be stuck in dungeons.
But the Plague Rat’s words gave Lu Chuan new suspicions.
Perhaps the relationship between the Main God System and the gods wasn’t what he had imagined.
After leaving the Plague Rat, Lu Chuan decided his next move was to find a place where cultists of evil gods gathered in large numbers—and poison it.
There was no other choice. In this time of crisis, only cultists gathered in masses. Targeting their settlements was simply the most viable option. Surely, the Plague Rat would understand.
The thought made the corners of his mouth curl upward.
The Plague Rat was still too naïve, not even noticing the phrase “human settlements” in the contract—those words hid all sorts of opportunities.
[Host, Cang Jiu seems to be trying to contact you.]
#888, who had been silent for ages, finally spoke up. Cang Jiu’s signal had been so persistent it couldn’t cut it off anymore.
“Oh? Cang Jiu can reach me now?” Lu Chuan’s eyes lit up. “Pick up! I’ve got a lot of questions for him!”
Hmph.
888 quietly made another note against Cang Jiu in its grudge ledger.
“Lu Chuan.” Cang Jiu’s voice came through.
“I’m here,” Lu Chuan replied, but before Cang Jiu could say more, he launched into a flurry of complaints. “I think the Main God System has its eyes on both of us. I just wanted a dungeon to rest in, but it threw me into this Forbidden Zone of Humanity dungeon. The timeline here is a complete mess—one moment I’m a rich tycoon, the next I’m broke! Damn it. Luckily you warned me to keep a divine seed handy. If I’d delayed and got tossed in without one, I’d be screwed…”
888 had been planning to badmouth Cang Jiu, but after hearing Lu Chuan’s rant, it immediately went quiet.
It hadn’t told Lu Chuan yet that all of this was actually his own doing.
888 didn’t want to say it, because Lu Chuan would definitely scold it. And when Lu Chuan’s rationality value was at 100, his voice was soft and gentle—exactly the kind of host #888 dreamed of. It didn’t want to betray that version of him. So it pretended to “crash” and stayed quiet.
But now that Lu Chuan mentioned it, #888 felt guilty.
Fine. Better to just keep quiet.
After all, Cang Jiu wasn’t around to compete for its host’s attention.
Cang Jiu, however, sensed something off. “The Forbidden Zone of Humanity dungeon isn’t one the Main God System can fully control. If it could, it would’ve kept throwing master-ranked players and Executors inside endlessly. Could it be that it has upgraded its power without us knowing?”
Burial Number 6 had been eyeing Wen Renxu for a long time, but he never dared rashly enter a dungeon tied to the God of Time.
Because strictly speaking, the Forbidden Zone of Humanity was jointly controlled by the Main God System and the God of Time—with the latter having more authority.
Anyone entering this dungeon had to obey not only the Main God System’s rules but also the God of Time’s restrictions. It was like dancing in chains.
Especially for Executors. With their immense power, their presence would certainly draw the God of Time’s gaze. And once that happened, no one could predict the outcome.
“I think so.” Lu Chuan replied firmly. “I didn’t do anything before entering this dungeon, so it can only have been the Main God System’s doing!”
Cang Jiu still couldn’t figure it out, so he shifted the subject.
“Have you encountered Burial Number 6 in this dungeon? I haven’t sensed him these past days. He might’ve grown impatient and entered your dungeon.”
“Nope,” Lu Chuan answered without hesitation. “Maybe he doesn’t exist in this timeline yet. Honestly, I can’t even tell where I am or what I was doing before. Maybe some version of me did meet him in another timeline, but I can’t distinguish it.”
“Burial Number 6 has very low rationality, but he can still maintain human form.” Cang Jiu considered, then revealed, “He has one very distinct trait. You’ll definitely recognize him.”
“What is it?”
“He relentlessly hunts down powerful gods and players, with the sole aim of destroying them,” Cang Jiu said slowly. “Wherever he passes, gods and strong players vanish. If you encounter him, don’t use any divine skills or reveal your divine seed. Run as far as you can. For now, he’ll focus only on the God of Time and Wen Renxu. As long as you don’t show yourself, he won’t notice you.”
Currently, Lu Chuan was only a god candidate. As long as he didn’t use divine power, he appeared as just an ordinary master-ranked player.
And with Wen Renxu, ranked third among players, present, Number 6’s attention wouldn’t be on him.
“Also, Number 6’s ability is—”
“What?” Lu Chuan strained to listen—but heard nothing.
“I already said it, but you can’t hear me.” Cang Jiu sighed. “That proves Number 6 is truly inside your dungeon. The God of Time has blocked all information about him. I can tell you general things, but his core details—you won’t be able to hear them, no matter what I say.”
This was by no means good news.
The timeline of the “Forbidden Zone for Humans” dungeon had already been chaotic enough — and now another Ender had appeared, which would only make the dungeon’s trajectory even messier.
“Hmm…” Lu Chuan rubbed his chin, finding it hard to wrap his head around. “So, tell me: is it that Number 6 entered this dungeon and caused Wen Renxu to be unable to leave, or is it because Wen Renxu couldn’t leave that Number 6 came here to hunt him down?”
Cang Jiu paused for once, then answered seriously:
“I’m not familiar with the domain of the God of Time’s authority. But I think every time paradox must have a starting point. Where that beginning lies… perhaps only the gods themselves know.”
Lu Chuan nodded and let the matter drop.
Cang Jiu couldn’t speak with him for long, and couldn’t provide much useful information — yet after the call, Lu Chuan’s mood visibly improved.
[Host, are you really that happy just chatting with him?] #888 sounded sour. [I’ve been talking with you all along, haven’t I?]
“Don’t be jealous, little system,” Lu Chuan chuckled. “When I got back in touch with you after leaving the trial dungeon, I was just as happy. This dungeon gives me no sense of security, but you and Cang Jiu are constants I can rely on. Knowing you’re both still around makes me feel much calmer.”
[Is that so?] #888 thought about it, not really understanding its host’s mindset, but chose to respect it.
Lu Chuan stretched lazily. “Come on, time to get to work.”
First, he returned to his group of followers, instructing the believers of Blissful Void Dream to seek out other cultists of different gods, approaching them in Blissful Void Dream’s name to propose alliances. Secretly, Lu Chuan slipped them a seed of divine power from the Plague Rat.
“When you reach other cultists’ gathering places,” Lu Chuan said with a smile, “drop this into their most-used river or pond. It’s a gift from the God of Pleasant Dreams — a means to give them deep, peaceful sleep. Once they’re all dreaming, our god can display supreme power and make them submit. Be careful — very, very careful. Understood?”
“Understood!”
“Even if we must give our lives, we’ll complete the god’s command!”
“Please, Holy Son, rest assured.”
One by one, the cultists pledged their loyalty, then shyly sought Lu Chuan’s blessing, hoping he’d speak well of them before the god so they might continue living the dream life they longed for.
Lu Chuan naturally agreed.
[Host, why give them the hard-earned divine seeds? What if they die on the way?] #888 fretted.
“Didn’t you hear Cang Jiu? Number 6 is here too. I’m already carrying two divine seeds, plus the others I have — to Number 6 I must look brighter than a lantern. I can’t act personally. Besides, even if they die en route, the seeds on them will still work.”
Corpses have always been breeding grounds and carriers for plague.
Lu Chuan’s aim wasn’t to wipe out humanity, merely to sow distrust among the gods and trigger their “divine melee” ahead of schedule.
Of course, this would inevitably harm innocents, including humans who weren’t cultists. But Lu Chuan had no way — and no time — to sort them out.
The cultists of evil gods were already beyond redemption; even years from now, they would remain humanity’s greatest threat. Their deaths were no loss. Inevitably, wiping them out would cause collateral damage.
But at a time like this, he couldn’t afford to be softhearted.
Having survived the trial dungeon, Lu Chuan knew all too well what fate awaited humanity. If he couldn’t harden his heart and thin the gods’ ranks now, the future for humans might not even be as tolerable as the trial world.
He couldn’t simply sit and wait for the “divine war” to arrive.
Who could say the opening shot of that war wouldn’t be fired by players like them?
“There’s a corpse here. Judging by the clothes, probably a follower of some other god.”
“Huh? Still breathing?”
“Kill him and take the body back for jerky. Anyone not of our god is meat.”
“Yes.”
Several cultists of an evil god mercilessly slew the man on the ground and dragged the body away.
None of them noticed the tiny box of divine seed on the corpse quietly dissolving, its essence seeping through the body.
When the corpse was turned into jerky, the infection spread to those who ate it.
Nor was this an isolated case.
Elsewhere, rivers and ponds were beginning to see the sick.
At first, no one paid much attention.
Though believers gathered together, food was scarce, and they prayed constantly — it was normal to collapse now and then. If they lived, they remained siblings; if they died, their flesh became “holy food,” living forever in others’ bodies.
But gradually, they realized something was wrong.
More and more people were falling ill.
Except for priests and bishops blessed by their gods, almost every follower grew weak, with various symptoms of disease.
Worst of all, the contagion spread fast, impossible to resist.
And then… they began to dream.
In those dreams, they felt unprecedented joy and ease — anything they wanted appeared; they commanded wind and rain, living the lives of their fantasies.
Yet once awake, they faced sickly bodies, endless prayers, and the demands of the gods.
The more painful reality became, the more people longed to sleep.
Soon, a saying emerged: if they sacrificed to the Plague Rat or other pestilence-linked gods, their bodies would recover.
At first, the faithful rejected this notion, loyal only to their own deity.
But the sickness was too vile.
Day after day they suffered, unable to die, endlessly tormented by disease. Even when priests drove it away temporarily with divine power, contact with the infected would soon bring it back — a hopeless cycle.
And it wasn’t just them; other cult strongholds reported similar cases.
Rumor said some gods were already searching for the source of the plague.
Strangely, though, many pestilence-related gods vanished one after another, while the obscure Plague Rat rose to fame, drawing more and more worshippers.
By now, the truth was clear.
The Plague Rat, hunted across the lands by rival gods, felt its power grow with every step — too much to give up. So it kept fleeing, unwilling to abandon its newfound strength.
“Go to Blissful Void Dream and seek protection,” Lu Chuan said with a smile to the Plague Rat. “After all, you only did this because He ordered it, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t…” The Plague Rat stopped mid-sentence, realizing what Lu Chuan meant.
“You’re right,” the Plague Rat laughed as well. “I only acted because Blissful Void Dream’s faith could spread so widely. I’m no mastermind.”
