Chapter 51
Lu Chuan and the others were forced back by the landlord couple to the edge of the mist.
Mei Xue and Gu Quan’an’s powers were strong, but limited in uses within the dungeon. They were clearly at their limit. Mei Xue was pale and swaying, while Gu Quan’an’s other eye was weeping blood—he couldn’t last much longer.
The other four players had also exhausted their tricks.
Even Lilus had tried multiple sneak attacks on the landlord couple, but they were nothing more than scratches.
Every time the couple was injured, they healed at shocking speed, as if they had hacked the system itself. How could they be this tough?
It defied reason!
Lu Chuan clenched his teeth and called to #888 in his mind. “System, open [Eye of Wealth] for me!”
They had fought so long without landing a fatal hit—clearly, they hadn’t found the couple’s weakness. If this went on, they’d suffer a humiliating defeat at the landlords’ hands, and that was the last thing Lu Chuan wanted.
The landlords were now pure brawlers, not interested in talk—only in killing witnesses.
Lu Chuan’s weakness was also showing.
No matter how skilled he was at clearing dungeons, he was still just a newbie who’d only survived four so far. His items and skills leaned toward defense—he had no pure offensive powers. In a situation like this, that put him at a major disadvantage.
[Understood, host. Eye of Wealth activated!] #888 knew the urgency of the moment and wasted no words, immediately unlocking the skill.
Once again, that near-omnipotent sensation surged through Lu Chuan, calming his restless emotions. Everything around him was laid bare before his eyes.
In Lu Chuan’s sight, the landlord couple’s bodies split into several highlighted sections, each glowing a different color.
And the brightest wasn’t at their chests—but at the base of their thighs.
So that was it. The couple had shifted their weaknesses there. Their chests were empty shells—that was why Mei Xue and Gu Quan’an’s attacks had been useless!
“Attack their inner thighs, that’s where the weakness is.” Lu Chuan didn’t hesitate to share this information outright.
The landlord couple’s faces instantly changed. Both of them swung their guns around and began focusing their attacks on Lu Chuan.
Mei Xue, Gu Quan’an, and the others realized this might be Lu Chuan’s ability, and immediately changed their attack strategy, targeting the landlord couple’s weak points.
With their weakness exposed, the landlords were forced into defense, and their overwhelming advantage began to tip toward the other side.
Lilus also changed his combat style, choosing to wield a massive scythe, slashing mercilessly at the landlords’ thighs.
In such a chaotic battlefield, Lu Chuan couldn’t avoid seeing the most valuable parts of the others.
Mei Xue’s most valuable points were her heart and the necklace on her neck—both shone with equally intense colors, clearly life-saving treasures.
Gu Quan’an’s greatest value lay in his eyes, which had nearly turned black, suggesting enormous power.
But what shocked Lu Chuan most was Lilus—his most valuable point was his right hand, and the scythe he had drawn out shone with a deeper color than Mei Xue’s necklace. The weapon’s level must be exceptionally high.
That explained why, though Lilus was just a newcomer like Lu Chuan, his attack power matched Mei Xue’s group, even surpassing the output of the four veteran players.
Damn that Resurrection Guild—so much money to burn!
Meanwhile, in the others’ eyes, Lu Chuan’s professional skill had given them a surprise.
At first, they assumed his class ability was scam-related. None of them imagined it would be this kind of support skill that revealed enemies’ weaknesses.
This revelation made Mei Xue and the others breathe a sigh of relief.
Lu Chuan was already abnormal and monstrous enough. If he also had some troublesome combat ability, they would have had to seriously consider eliminating him early—better safe than sorry. But now that his profession turned out to be a strong support type, it put them at ease.
After all, no matter how useful a support ability was, it needed others to maximize damage; on his own, Lu Chuan wasn’t powerful.
That meant his value skyrocketed, but his threat level dropped significantly.
If they could recruit him into their guild, that would be a huge gain!
This thought appeared in several players’ minds at once.
But after using the Eye of Wealth for a short while, Lu Chuan already felt strain in his eyes; tears welled up at the corners.
At the same time, a mountain of gold in his system vault suddenly lost a chunk.
“System, my eyes are tired. Is this from overuse?” Lu Chuan muttered.
[Yes, Host. Normally you can only view one person’s weakness at a time, but you just looked at everyone in the melee. That caused backlash. But the God of Wealth’s Currency has already activated, shielding you from the worst of it.] #888 explained happily. [See? The skill is useful!]
Lu Chuan’s heart sank. He rushed to check his collection.
Sure enough, a massive chunk was missing from his gold reserves—at least 1000g gone!
His heart bled.
“Ahhh! Not only did I fail to make money from this dungeon, I’m losing money?!” He almost exploded. [God of Wealth’s Currency] was this expensive? It was draining his life away!
[That’s just how the skill works, Host…] #888 shrank back helplessly. [Host, watch out!]
The landlord couple suddenly exploited a gap in the chaos, leaping straight at Lu Chuan with claws outstretched.
[Host, I’ll activate defense!] #888 cried out urgently.
“Their attack isn’t lethal. I’ll use a healing item—don’t use my ability!” Lu Chuan ordered.
The landlady’s claw raked his chest, leaving bloody gashes, but not deep ones.
A veteran player grabbed her legs and hurled her away, stopping the follow-up strike.
[Host! Are you alright? You could’ve just let me shield you!] #888 was almost in tears. This was the worst injury Lu Chuan had suffered since entering this infinite world.
Even back in Li Family Village against that Executor, he hadn’t taken such a serious wound.
“It’s fine. A C-rank item will heal this. C-ranks are cheap, and I can get reimbursed. Saves me money in the end.” Lu Chuan gritted his teeth, healed with a C-rank item, and kept going.
The landlords, forced back by Mei Xue and the others, could only glare viciously at Lu Chuan.
[Host, about defense skill—]
“I brought plenty of healing items. They’re reimbursable. If I use skills, I’m paying out of pocket!” Lu Chuan would never waste his second skill. His biggest wound wasn’t the scratch on his chest—it was the hole burned in his gold reserves, and he couldn’t even earn it back from the landlords!
#888 was close to sobbing.
Host, can’t you care about your life a little more?
Truly money over life. His low sanity had its perks, but sometimes it gave #888 a headache.
What kind of trash main system was this? Why hadn’t it fixed its anomalies yet?
#888 grumbled in frustration.
And in the sky above—
Number 9 had suppressed his aura to the extreme, silently observing the battlefield below.
He had been there nearly ten minutes, yet chose not to reveal himself, first watching the situation.
When Lu Chuan used his ability, the golden coin on his sword hilt resonated faintly with something—an exceedingly rare phenomenon.
So, this player was unusual.
But when Number 9 wanted to observe further, Lu Chuan, even at the cost of being mauled by the landlords, refused to use the skill again.
From Lu Chuan’s pained, heartbroken expression, Number 9 understood everything.
That skill must be very costly.
Back in Li Family Village, when Lu Chuan smashed enemies with statues, he had worn the same distressed look, worried the statues weren’t made of pure gold.
Money—was it really that important?
More important than life?
Number 9 pressed down the brim of his hat, lips curving slightly.
This player truly was unlike anyone else he’d seen before.
Someone who would genuinely choose money over life, clinging faithfully to desire without compromise.
Other players weren’t like this.
Number 9 grasped the coin on his sword hilt, released his suppressed aura, and requested the main system to cancel concealment.
[Executor Number 9 requesting authorization to begin formal anomaly disposal.]
At the same moment, #888 felt the crushing pressure.
[Host!] It was like locking eyes with another system.
Before the words even finished, Lu Chuan knew something was wrong.
The players in battle suddenly went slack-eyed and collapsed one by one.
The Flesh Apartment itself trembled; the ground shook as if some giant beast was tearing everything apart.
“How could there be a god here…” Lilus, with his unique bloodline and low sanity, resisted for a moment before also fainting.
Sensing disaster, the landlords didn’t press their advantage—they turned and fled.
They knew better than most NPCs what kind of existence they might have provoked. But this? They shouldn’t have drawn something so terrifying.
Even the Flesh Apartment was trembling.
They weren’t worthy of such a response.
But they ran too slowly—or rather, the incoming sword light was far too fast.
In the blink of an eye, the landlords were shredded into countless pieces, exploding into sprays of blood.
Before the gore even touched the ground, it was compressed and absorbed, erased without a trace—as if the couple had never existed.
[Executor presence confirmed. Players may exit the dungeon after anomaly removal. Estimated time: three minutes.]
Lu Chuan heard the system prompt.
Three minutes?
The landlords hadn’t even lasted three seconds!
How inaccurate could this system be?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lu Chuan felt a familiar aura.
The gold ingot hidden in his pocket to use for sneak attacks burned hot, and he didn’t need to guess who had come.
Nemesis.
Lu Chuan understood.
With so many Burial Squad, what were the odds of meeting the same one twice in a row? If he had that kind of luck, he’d be winning the lottery.
No—his bad luck was reliable. Which meant this guy had come specifically for him.
I’m innocent!
This time he truly hadn’t done anything. The landlord couple had brought this on themselves, trying to silence him. It had nothing to do with him!
[Host, run*********] #888 was so panicked the system itself glitched, preparing to drag Lu Chuan’s soul out to escape—but the enemy was too close, and the main system had deployed one of its most powerful subsystems with him.
This wasn’t like that mystery-level subsystem assigned to Lu Chuan that #888 could swallow in one gulp. The subsystem shadowing the Executor now had to be extremely powerful—perhaps even directly linked to the Main God System.
How could that be?
Was it because of that mark?
Did the Executor come because he’d branded Lu Chuan and followed the mark here?
“Don’t panic. I’m the victim this time,” Lu Chuan forced the near-collapsing #888 to calm down and said evenly. “He won’t kill me. I haven’t broken any rules this time.”
At the critical moment, Lu Chuan’s head stayed perfectly clear.
If the Executor meant to strike him, he would have vanished just like the landlord couple.
With that in mind, Lu Chuan lifted his head and flashed a big smile at Number 9, who hovered in midair.
“Well now, isn’t this our esteemed Executor? What a coincidence. This dungeon anomaly was terrifying—I can’t even exit. Looks like we really have to wait for you to fix it. Without you, we players wouldn’t have such a nice dungeon experience.”
He rattled this off, then his gaze fell on Number 9’s face—and in an instant his mind was packed with gold and jewels.
That golden hair was lovelier than gold itself.
Even the eyes were gold, but not the same as the hair—more like flawless yellow sapphires, little golden stars.
Everything about this person hit his aesthetic dead center, as if mountains of treasure stood behind him, making it impossible to look away.
No—wrong!
Something’s off.
I’m purely “moneysexual.” There isn’t a soul in this world who can pull my eyes off money.
But he’s so… so compelling…
No human could be born with a face like that, could they?
Want…
Want my ass—I only want money!
Lu Chuan felt like his mind split in two.
One half howled to get closer; the other yelled to run.
He could practically feel his sanity teetering, about to drop under 60.
He thought of the sanity he’d earned this round and moved to spend it on repairs.
“I’ve suppressed my power. Your sanity won’t drop,” Number 9 said suddenly.
He’d seen all the struggle on Lu Chuan’s face.
The coin set in his sword hilt thrashed in his palm, but Number 9 held it down, revealing nothing.
Even with the mark he’d left, Lu Chuan still resisted the pull.
For a human, that was quite commendable.
But could an ordinary human really do that?
His desire was so vast it had practically taken form, and he could still hold it in check?
Unbelievable.
And yet it had happened.
Number 9 pressed the brim of his hat, still looking down at Lu Chuan from on high.
But Lu Chuan didn’t actually feel inferior.
Because up to now, Number 9 hadn’t seen a hint of fear on Lu Chuan’s face.
Everyone else, on first sight of him, was bewitched—then afraid.
This player was different.
Hmm?
Lu Chuan stopped the hand that was about to spend sanity on recovery.
“I’m here to handle the dungeon mutation,” Number 9 said, then added after a pause, “I won’t do anything unnecessary.”
Lu Chuan blinked, then got it, and asked curiously, “Then why didn’t I pass out like the others?”
Everyone else had fainted—presumably so the Executor could handle the mutation more cleanly and keep his power from contaminating them and lowering their sanity.
“I left a mark on you,” Number 9 said after a brief silence.
“Oh.” Lu Chuan nodded. #888 had mentioned before that the other party marked him; that must be what Number 9 meant.
“Dungeon ‘Flesh Apartment’ has been processed. Executor Number 9’s mission complete,” Number 9 said—to something in the air.
Number 9?
A name or a ranking?
Lu Chuan didn’t have time to ponder it.
Next, he heard the Main God System’s voice:
[Anomaly dissipated. Clearing players will be transmitted shortly.]
Lu Chuan blinked, and white light had already wrapped him for transport; the others on the ground were also bathed in white.
Number 9 indeed made no move, simply watching as Lu Chuan and the others departed.
Before the Flesh Apartment, everything fell silent.
Empty.
Number 9 lowered his head and opened his hand. He’d been gripping the coin on his sword hilt, clearly feeling the shifts in Lu Chuan’s desire.
His palm now bore a reddened circular imprint, burned there by the heated coin.
——————————————
Noah Game Guild.
Mei Xue and the others were transmitted out together, still unconscious.
The guild was in an uproar, only relaxing once they confirmed everyone was alive.
Lilus and Lu Chuan were basically unscathed; Mei Xue and Gu Quan’an were severely injured; the other four players were hanging by a thread.
But alive.
If they’d all died, that would’ve been a huge mess.
Thank goodness they were merely unconscious.
Still—what on earth had happened in there? Everyone out cold at once? Just thinking about it made people uneasy.
Lu Chuan, of course, wasn’t unconscious—he was faking.
Otherwise how could he explain why he was the only one awake?
And it gave him a moment to chat with #888.
“System, is Executor Number 9 really that strong?” Lu Chuan had a hunch but asked anyway.
[Very strong, Host.] #888 still sounded shaken. [I nearly dropped the connection. When top-rank Burial Squad arrive in person, they carry special privileges from the Main God System.]
#888 had already mapped out escape routes and how to avoid a manhunt.
Who knew whether Number 9 had noticed anything? But since the Host hadn’t used any skills at the time, they probably hadn’t been exposed.
[That level is comparable to a high-tier deity.] #888 said soberly. [That kind of mutation shouldn’t warrant their true body showing up, so he was probably here because of you, Host.]
“Don’t tell me you’re the one who got found out,” Lu Chuan said. He was sure he’d done nothing wrong—so it must be #888.
[…Host, I’ve been to this world many times. I’ve never been discovered.] #888 didn’t think it was his fault.
“That’s because your previous hosts were too low level.” Lu Chuan refused to admit he was the cause. “Whatever. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
What else could he do?
The Executor hadn’t laid a hand on him.
So it was fine.
If the sky falls, the players on the god-tier leaderboard can hold it up.
[Host, should I hurry and level up to remove the mark? It’s a risk.] #888 was terrified. Even though the Executor hadn’t said or done anything, he couldn’t believe the man would ignore his Host.
With a Host this exceptional, any normal Executor would be suspicious.
“Why remove it? This is great,” Lu Chuan said, perking up. “He hits hard and looks good. Buying him won’t be a loss. I was even thinking of comparison-shopping before making a purchase. If I see him again and confirm he outclasses the rest, I’ll make up my mind.”
Huh?
#888 couldn’t follow Lu Chuan’s train of thought.
“Small thinking, System,” Lu Chuan clicked his tongue. “If I become the God of Wealth, I’ll attract all sorts of ill-intentioned people. I’ll need a bodyguard up front, won’t I? Temp hires won’t cut it—you have to scout talent early!”
“Also, the Main God System of this Evil World is probably stronger than you,” Lu Chuan said sincerely. “Someone carefully cultivated by them won’t be bad. We should trust the taste of powerful enemies.”
The Main God System had equipped the Executors with such a high-level subsystem—obviously a trusted confidant, trained at great expense.
And what’s sweeter than poaching from your rival?
The predecessors plant the trees; the successors enjoy the shade. Lu Chuan had no desire to be the one doing the planting—only the one enjoying the cool.
Very on brand for Lu Chuan.
#888 wanted to argue, but couldn’t.
Infuriating. What was with that Executor Number 9?
Was he trying to steal the top-confidant spot from #888?
——
Author’s Note:
Number 9: I’m here to tell you my name is Number 9.
