In the Infinite Worlds, I Just Want to Be the God of Wealth – CH205

Chapter 205

Although #888 had turned the sacrificial offerings into silver and copper, distracting the villagers, the truth was that Lu Chuan still had no usable abilities or tools of his own. He didn’t even have his own body right now. His options were painfully limited.

He couldn’t leave the sedan chair, but he could hear the sound of a massive whirlpool forming in the water. The villagers, blinded by greed, heard nothing, still scrabbling for coins.

Lu Chuan thought a moment, then decided to remain inside the sedan and wait.

[Host, we’re really just going to wait?] #888 sounded nervous. It could see the monster forming beneath the river—a creature at least of divine-servant rank.

In a normal dungeon, Lu Chuan—now a god—could crush such a creature with a single finger. But here, trapped in a bugged copy of the dungeon, he was powerless.

“Mm, wait. Don’t rush.” Lu Chuan, now freed from his bindings, sounded calmer than ever. “The Main God System has wanted me dead for a long time, but it’s never been this shameless. That means it must feel threatened—and is resorting to desperate measures.”

[Of course! Host, you’re the fastest person to ever ascend to godhood. I’ve heard that other systems considered it record-breaking if they could raise a host in two hundred years. But you—you became a god in just a few years! Even across countless parallel universes, no one’s ever done that.] #888 gushed. [Once you formally become the God of Wealth, I can retire in glory. I’ll be the greatest system in all universes!]

Lu Chuan only smiled, not replying.

He didn’t believe the Main God System feared him just because he ascended too fast.

So what if he was the God of Wealth? Desire itself was a true god too.

Yes, gods like them were indeed dangerous to the Main God System, but the real reason it was so desperate to kill him probably lay not in himself, but in #888.

If Lu Chuan’s speed was terrifying, then #888’s evolution—from a timid little system that barely dared sign a contract to something capable of rewriting dungeon rules like the Main God itself—was even more shocking.

Lu Chuan suspected that what the Main God System truly wanted to eliminate wasn’t him, but the system that created him.

Still, #888 was a cheerful little companion. He wouldn’t tell it his suspicions.

Outside, the villagers remained clueless about the danger rising from the river.

Then—an indescribable monster burst out of the water, sending waves crashing sky-high. Only then did the villagers realize that their coins had never been coins at all, but mere peanuts and seeds. They had been bewitched.

“Th-the water god has appeared!”
“Mercy, water god, we only came to deliver the bride!”
“Water god, be merciful!”

They fell to their knees, worshipping in terror. No matter how alien or grotesque this being looked, it had to be the water god—it must be the water god.

Lu Chuan remained in the sedan. Soon, he smelled a thick, metallic tang—blood.

The villagers had already been devoured. Their bones clattered out of the monster’s maw.

Only the bridal sedan, with Lu Chuan inside, remained intact.

[Host, are we really not running?!] #888 squeaked, panicking as the monster approached the sedan.

The host plus the chair together weren’t even a mouthful for the beast.

“Where could we run to?” The more dangerous it grew, the calmer Lu Chuan became. “Relax. I don’t think we should trust everything we see right now. Why don’t you shut down your scanning program for a while?”

He felt the sedan being lifted. Even without seeing, he could picture the monster gripping it, raising it toward its jaws.

The roof cracked apart with a crunch.

Through the splintered wood came a jagged tooth, still slick with human flesh.

The fangs sank into Lu Chuan’s body.

Agonizing pain tore through him.

It felt real—as though he were about to be chewed apart, piece by piece.

Yet Lu Chuan didn’t struggle. Instead, he closed his eyes, pulling his mind far away from the pain.

How can I escape this suffering?

Ah. Why not use the time to balance the accounts?

He mentally opened his treasury, tallying how much money he had, what expenditures were necessary, and what he could pocket. He calculated how much extra it would cost to improve benefits for the guild members. He considered reforms: switching from a point system to a gold-based economy. What transitions and upheavals would be required?

The more he thought, the clearer his mind became.

The pain receded.

Time passed—he didn’t know how long—until blackness swallowed him whole.

He couldn’t hear #888 anymore.

In the darkness, there was nothing—no sound, no sight, no sensation, as though everything was void.

And yet Lu Chuan kept calculating, rechecking his numbers whenever they didn’t add up, striving for accuracy.

When he finally awoke, #888’s chatter filled his ears again.

[Waaaah, host, you’re amazing! How did you know it was all a trick by the Main God System? Even my scan was fooled. I really thought you were going to die. I was scared to death!]

Lu Chuan lay on the ground.

Looking down, he saw he was still dressed as before the whirlpool incident—not a bride, not adorned in strange ornaments. His golden jewelry was still with him.

In front of him floated a small, veil-like object, spinning in the air like a scarlet bridal head covering.

Without doubt, this was the divine relic of the space.

Everything he had experienced earlier had been nothing but illusions conjured by it.

“It’s simple. If the Main God System wanted me dead, it wouldn’t use something like that.” Lu Chuan smiled. “I’m still a god, after all—wielding authority it doesn’t have. It allied with the God of Exchange and gave him time and domain. It carefully preserves the dungeons of the God of Time. That proves it doesn’t hunt gods just to kill, but to claim their power. For someone like me, it wouldn’t rush to destroy me before squeezing out my value.”

Lu Chuan patted the dust off himself and prepared to get up. “Besides, for a dungeon, those scenes in the space just now were way too childish. There was supposedly no way out, but even after you tampered with the system data and confused those villagers for a while, the moment that monster appeared, they all sobered up. Rather than doubting your competence, I believe everything inside the space was pre-set. No matter what problem occurred in between, it would all be twisted back onto the correct path. So I guessed everything inside was just an illusion. But if I had actually believed it was real, I’d probably be dead by now.”

So Lu Chuan could only keep hinting to himself—ignore the pain inflicted on him, don’t even think about the possibility of death.

Of course, he admitted there was an element of gambling in it.

Luckily, he won the gamble.

[Host, once you obtain this divine relic, you’ll leave the space. I won’t be able to contact you anymore—please, you must be careful,] #888 said solemnly.

[Something seems to be watching you. If I could stay linked, I could trace it and find out who’s spying on you.]

“Gold is bound to shine,” Lu Chuan waved his hand. “I stood out so much in this dungeon—it’d be strange if no one noticed me. Don’t worry so much. Just focus on leveling up; helping me sooner is the real priority.”

#888 had no choice but to agree, reluctantly saying goodbye.

Lu Chuan casually picked up the red veil as his trophy.

The moment the divine relic appeared in his hand, he immediately sensed its power:

by using it, he could drape it over the head of anyone he wanted to kill. That person would then relive the illusion Lu Chuan had just experienced. Once they believed they were in a real situation, they would inevitably head toward death. The price, however, was that each use would cost Lu Chuan one-third of his remaining life.

He raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and stored the relic away. Even if he never used it, he could always trade it for something later.

As soon as he took the relic, the massive vortex opened again. Lu Chuan stepped in without hesitation and smoothly exited the space.

“Huh? Nobody’s out yet? I was only inside for three minutes?” He checked his watch in surprise—he’d thought much more time had passed. But it had only been three minutes.

The sky was still dark.

Helpless, Lu Chuan glanced at his towering Golden Tower and headed for his territory.

It was the middle of the night; he didn’t want to wander alone. And since he didn’t know which space Edith had gone to, he decided to return and regroup with Shen Li and the others.

Elsewhere, [Undying], who had just watched all of Lu Chuan’s actions in the space, was evaluating him.

Normally, his mirror could clearly show everything Lu Chuan went through, but strangely, it sometimes froze for no reason. By the time Lu Chuan left the space, the divine-relic mirror had shattered into pieces, unusable a second time.

Obviously, Lu Chuan was a very competent player.

To suddenly plunge into a vortex to seize a divine relic, then, amid such fast and tense pacing, instantly realize he was inside an illusion—and even give up resistance to blunt the shock of death—was bold to the point of recklessness.

If his judgment had been wrong, he would have pushed himself onto a dead end.

Moreover, after being devoured, Lu Chuan endured a long stretch of darkness. In such an empty space, a player’s sanity usually drops sharply, and they start to doubt whether they’re truly dead. Once that doubt takes hold, there’s no way out.

What looked like a simple illusion was actually full of deadly traps. The only reason Lu Chuan escaped them was because he did nothing.

That alone explained why he could rise so quickly to the top of the Master Rankings—he had genuine skill.

Even so, [Undying] still found Lu Chuan strange.

From the start, Lu Chuan’s state had been the same as when he first entered—his sanity hadn’t wavered at all. Even after obtaining the relic and leaving the space, there was no trace of relief at surviving, no sign of normal human emotion.

That wasn’t normal.

Either Lu Chuan, as a human, had become completely cold and unfeeling, immune to any external stimulus, or he had chosen to become a god—maybe the deities he hunted were nearly all devoured, and he was completing the transformation from man to god.

As Guildmaster of the Resurrection Guild, [Undying] knew exactly what kinds of choices awaited players at the top of the rankings. He himself had opportunities to choose—but he simply didn’t want to.

Lu Chuan hadn’t yet reached the skyscraper when someone blocked his path.

Seeing who it was, Lu Chuan’s guard instantly went up.

“Let’s get one thing clear—payment on delivery. I won’t give you extra money. And if the fruit tastes a little off, it’s just overripe, not spoiled.”

Clearly, he mistook the other person for someone looking for trouble; he didn’t think he had much connection with this street vendor.

“…I’m not here for that,” [Undying] said. He considered himself odd in others’ eyes, but compared with Lu Chuan, he felt perfectly normal.

“Oh? Showing up in the middle of the night makes it hard not to overthink. I was just about to hide in my room from monsters’ attacks, and you pop up—trying to kill me and steal my treasure?” Lu Chuan shot back.

“…Let’s get straight to the point.” [Undying] was exasperated. Tonight, thanks to the divine-relic space opening, there weren’t many monsters in the streets, but fighting now would only draw them over—that would be suicide. No sane person would choose to murder for loot right now.

“Fine.” Lu Chuan nodded. “Talk here?”

“To show sincerity, let’s go to your territory,” [Undying] smiled. “Unless you’re worried I’ll start a territory war once I’m inside.”

“No need.” Lu Chuan thought it over and agreed. Shen Li and Shasha were inside the building; if trouble arose, the three of them wouldn’t lose. And on his own turf, he’d hold absolute advantage as lord.

Inside, Shen Li was scolding Shasha.

“Even if Lu Chuan’s the Guildmaster, you can’t let him sweet-talk you. We agreed to draw lots. If his luck’s bad and he loses, why swap with him? You’re an adult now—you can’t be as willful as before…” Shen Li was exasperated. Within the entire Star Guild, only he and Starry Ming ever voiced objections to Lu Chuan’s wild ideas; everyone else just followed Lu Chuan blindly.

So, the moment Lu Chuan stepped out, Shen Li began lecturing Starry Shasha.

“I was gone only a few minutes, and you’re already badmouthing me?” Lu Chuan breathed coldly against Shen Li’s neck.

“You… you just went out! How are you back so fast?” Shen Li was stunned. “And you brought someone—those footsteps don’t sound like Edith… Who did you bring—”

His voice cut off as if someone had grabbed his throat. He stared blankly at the person behind Lu Chuan, utterly speechless.

“Hey, hey, Shen Li, cat got your tongue? What’s wrong?” Lu Chuan waved a hand in front of his face, wondering if something was wrong with Shen Li’s brain.

“Ow! Why’d you pinch me?” Lu Chuan yelped suddenly.

Shen Li snapped out of it, eyes finally regaining focus. He hurried forward to [Undying], blurting out, “Y-You’re… you must be Guildmaster [Undying] in the flesh, right? I’m not seeing things?”

“Long time no see. I remember you were just a kid tagging along behind Wen Renxu, always crying,” [Undying] smiled. “Back then, Wen Renxu pointed at you and Starry Ming and said you’d be the pillars of the Star Guild. Looks like his eye was spot-on.”

Back when Wen Renxu was around, the Star Guild wasn’t the weakest among the five great guilds. The five Guildmasters would sometimes gather, bringing along promising youths to meet one another, hoping that if they ever ran into each other in the same dungeon, they’d go easy and preserve human players’ fighting strength.

“Y-Yes, that’s me.” Shen Li stammered, barely able to speak.

Aaaah—it was him, the real person!

The evergreen of the Resurrection Guild, the one who had raised it from a struggling member of the five great guilds to the strongest: [Undying].

His in-game name was as legendary as his life story. Whenever people thought he’d vanished forever inside a terrifying dungeon, he always reappeared alive.

He’d even fought the Executor when most players shuddered at the name—losing, but with honor.

And now this legendary figure had suddenly appeared in front of him. Shen Li could hardly believe he wasn’t dreaming!

“That really is a pity. If I’d known, I should’ve tricked Cynthia and Lilus into coming too,” Lu Chuan couldn’t help saying. “Looks like I’m about to collect every single Guildmaster out there.”

He had just met Boboña of Ocean Heart, and now he had run into [Undying].

Seemed like ever since he became a Guildmaster himself, he had somehow slipped into the Guildmaster circle.

People he could never meet before, he was now encountering one after another.

“Not many people know I’m in this dungeon, but there are still a few. Once those two gain the strength to be Guildmasters, they’ll naturally come here looking for me.” [Undying] glanced around at Lu Chuan’s Golden Tower territory and couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. “You really know how to live. Plenty of players have come to this dungeon, but this is the first time I’ve seen a territory like yours. Even the owner of the Flesh and Blood Apartment couldn’t achieve this level.”

“Flesh and Blood Apartment?” Lu Chuan raised a brow. “I’ve been through a dungeon by that name. So it was a player’s territory too, huh.”

“Mm. That one’s much older than us—possibly a player from when the Extreme Evil Game first appeared. They plundered plenty of lifespan in this dungeon and are probably enjoying themselves in some easy world now.” [Undying] spoke lightly. “Once a player reaches a certain level, they realize they’re still just rookies. There are plenty of old, undying players who skulk in the shadows like rats, surfacing from time to time just to disgust you.”

The comparison was so apt that Lu Chuan burst out laughing. “Exactly. I think so too.”

Since the man before him was Cynthia’s teacher and Shen Li’s idol, Lu Chuan naturally couldn’t host him poorly.

He had Shasha fetch some proper refreshments from the shops inside the Golden Tower—both Chinese and Western pastries—to treat their guest.

[Undying] didn’t bother with small talk. “Have you met Boboña?”

“I did. She even dragged me into a group chat,” Lu Chuan nodded. “But she didn’t tell me much beyond that.”

“In that case, you should already know the choice before us.” [Undying] smiled faintly. “Actually, I stayed in this dungeon for a very important reason—because here, there may be another option.”

“Oh?”

“There’s something hidden in this dungeon. I don’t know what exactly, but I do know its existence threatens the Main God System.” [Undying] spoke with gravity. “The dead gods hid it away. We have to find it.”

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