Chapter 96
Lu Chuan had to squeeze through the crowd to reach Messiah’s room.
Just as he was wondering how to get in, the door cracked open, and a hand yanked him inside.
Outside, voices were already shouting Messiah’s name.
Lu Chuan stumbled, nearly falling. He was just about to complain, when he looked up and met Messiah’s calm-but-displeased gaze.
Cough.
Well, not too bad, actually.
Lu Chuan was good at reading people—he knew Messiah was in no mood to talk, so he stayed quiet.
“Now, wherever I go, the place gets jammed.” Messiah said evenly.
“Hey, that just means your beauty is recognized!” Lu Chuan quickly replied. “Most people would kill for this kind of treatment. And now, you must have tons of support in Noah Guild.”
Who wasn’t a face-lover? It was only a matter of degree.
Messiah had strength, background, fame, and looks. If he tried being an idol, he’d crush the competition.
Sure enough, after just a few public outings, his support rate shot up.
“You must have stirred things up behind the scenes.” Messiah wasn’t so easily placated. “The number of newspapers reporting on me is ridiculous—abnormally high. And they’re not just writing about me, but also about beauties from other guilds, making endless comparisons. Even the matter of me being entangled by a god—which very few knew about—has been dug up.”
Messiah really was the embodiment of tragically beautiful.
Of course Lu Chuan wouldn’t let such a perfect PR angle go to waste.
Once the story spread—Messiah entangled by a god, abandoned by Noah Guild, but then taken by Lu Chuan, Cynthia, and the others to conquer Divine Challenge dungeons—his popularity skyrocketed. Meanwhile, Noah Guild, who had once forsaken him, got roasted alive, with many wishing Messiah would just transfer guilds outright.
Noah Guild had no choice but to swallow the bitter pill, since the reports were all true.
“Haha, relax, I didn’t pay anyone. Just mentioned you in passing while chatting with a few editors.” Lu Chuan, of course, wouldn’t admit it. “Anyway, it’s all good now—Noah Guild won’t dare discard you again. But let’s get to the point—how much do you know about Xi Jiangyuan?”
Seeing that Lu Chuan was forcibly changing the subject, Messiah didn’t expose him and instead smoothly followed along, shifting the topic as well.
“I didn’t arrive much earlier than you, and Vivian didn’t tell me much either. But before us, a few players were lucky enough to come out of Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon alive, and they managed to bring out some information,” Messiah explained simply. “One by one, they came to me voluntarily and told me what they knew. I sorted through it, cross-checked what they said, and roughly figured out the situation.”
“Sure enough, being good-looking really is an advantage,” Lu Chuan couldn’t help but sigh.
Messiah cast him a faint, lingering glance.
“I was just joking,” Lu Chuan said, for once a little guilty.
“According to those players, once we enter the mutated version of Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon, the story will immediately forcibly alter our memories, making us believe we’re Xi Jiangyuan’s teammates, running the dungeon alongside him. The benefit is, the story automatically provides us with Xi Jiangyuan’s abilities, personality, experiences—all those memories as one of his teammates are given to us for free. The downside is, we’ll also forget our true identities.” Messiah explained calmly.
The memories forcefully imposed by the story couldn’t be changed. Even if they left themselves clues beforehand, the system would erase them. They had no choice but to enter with Xi Jiangyuan.
“Each time we enter, we have to go through the dungeons that Xi Jiangyuan once experienced. If you’re smart enough, then however many teammates survived back when Xi Jiangyuan cleared it, that’s about how many can make it out alive now. Once the dungeon ends in Xi Jiangyuan’s memory, the surviving players are considered to have cleared it—but the rating is only D. If you try to be clever, you may not make it out at all. After all, Xi Jiangyuan was once a legend. His way of clearing the dungeon wouldn’t be wrong. Following him at least ensures some survival rate. But trying to run it your own way? That’s almost certain death.” Messiah sighed heavily. “That’s why the survival rate of players going into his dungeon has always been so low, yet the dungeon still hasn’t been cleared.”
Lu Chuan frowned slightly. “If memories can be altered, does that mean our personalities and ways of thinking are also changed? If even that’s altered, then what’s the point of us players going in at all?”
“They say you gradually recover your original thoughts,” Messiah considered, “but memories only come back when you trigger certain events. As for what events exactly, they don’t know—because they only recovered their memories after leaving the dungeon. And when we go in, our experiences won’t overlap with theirs. Xi Jiangyuan went through so many dungeons; even if each appears only once, who knows how long it would take to cycle through.”
Lu Chuan also realized how troublesome this dungeon was.
Even if they stayed inside, they would still have to follow Xi Jiangyuan through countless dungeons.
But what if they encountered one where only Xi Jiangyuan survived?
Or worse, one where even Xi Jiangyuan himself couldn’t survive?
A dungeon that a Master-rank player couldn’t clear—charging in recklessly would just be suicide.
That’s why none of the players who knew the truth wanted to touch Xi Jiangyuan’s case.
[Host, this dungeon really is special. Isn’t it basically hundreds of smaller dungeons nested inside one big dungeon?] 888 exclaimed. Could it really work like that? If so, did it mean that even if they beat one dungeon, they still might not reach Xi Jiangyuan’s true dungeon?
“System, Xi Jiangyuan’s death and mutation forces everyone who enters to relive the dungeons he once went through,” Lu Chuan smiled faintly. “So tell me—what if all the dungeons we’re experiencing right now are also ones that someone, or some people, mutated and died, leaving us to go through their dungeons?”
Lu Chuan’s sudden words nearly made 888 crash.
[Huh?!]
“I was just kidding,” Lu Chuan grinned, flashing white teeth.
888 eyed him cautiously, not sure why he would suddenly say such a thing.
[Host… maybe we shouldn’t go to Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon. We could wait until you’re a Master-rank player and then go.]
“Why not go?” Lu Chuan shot back. “The more unusual, the more interesting. I’ve never been in this kind of dungeon—I’m very curious.”
888 wanted to argue but didn’t know where to start, and could only stew in frustration.
Lu Chuan chuckled, stopped chatting with 888, and continued with Messiah instead.
“But that means Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon contains all his memories, doesn’t it?” Lu Chuan said. “Some things—even new Master-rank players might not know. But Xi Jiangyuan had been one for so many years, he must’ve known far more secrets than we can imagine. Maybe just one trip in, we’ll learn plenty of hidden intel.”
After all, since they’d come this far, they couldn’t just leave empty-handed.
“That’s true,” Messiah nodded. “I also think it’s worth a try. But there are still more than twenty days before Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon opens again. We don’t need to rush. We can gather more information in the meantime. What do you want to do?”
“I heard there are a lot of pearl oysters here. I want to buy some, then sell them as blind boxes—people love opening them for pearls,” Lu Chuan answered without hesitation.
Messiah stared at him speechlessly.
“Don’t look at me like that. Selling blind-box pearls is very profitable. You don’t get the thrill—carefully prying open an oyster, hoping to find a pearl inside. It’s addictive! Other businesses aren’t feasible right now, so I’ll start with something that circulates quickly.” Lu Chuan argued righteously.
Messiah ended up being dragged along as a bargaining chip.
And to be fair—good looks really did have their perks.
Just standing with Lu Chuan in front of the pearl farmer was enough to get a 20% discount.
If Messiah smiled at the boss, the price nearly dropped to cost.
Fortunately, Lu Chuan knew not to drain the pond dry. He still paid slightly above cost, buying out the farmer’s pearl oysters and sealing the deal with a Seal of Contract to have them shipped by sea later.
Over the next twenty days, Lu Chuan went wild—dragging Messiah all over to shop, practically turning the Ocean Heart Guild’s marketplace upside down.
Every day Vivian saw updates about the two of them together and was left baffled.
Both Lu Chuan of the Star Guild and Messiah of the Noah Guild were not people to provoke lightly. Now that they were roaming around the Ocean Heart Guild together, Vivian naturally grew suspicious, afraid they might be plotting against her guild.
But when she sent people to investigate, all they found was that the two were constantly shopping—accompanied by various bits of business gossip.
Vivian tried to analyze Lu Chuan’s intentions from this, worrying he might be using it as some way to pass intel to outsiders. But then she thought—if he wanted to pass intel, he’d just use an item. Why bother with such a complicated charade? So it seemed Lu Chuan really was just… focused on shopping.
Realizing this only made her feel worse.
Seriously? You don’t care at all about Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon, and you’re wasting every day like this?
And Shen Li—aren’t you a Master-rank player, Lu Chuan’s master? Can’t you stop him and make him focus on something serious?
But Shen Li, on whom she pinned her hopes, was currently stuck watching Edith and Starry Shasha open oysters for pearls.
“Wow! Edith, Captain Shen, look—I got such a big, round pearl! Profit!” Starry Shasha cheered. Thanks to her [Lucky Demon] ability, she always felt her luck was mediocre. But ever since Lu Chuan taught her how to make money by opening oysters for pearls, she had become addicted.
Silly girl—like Lu Chuan would let you make money off him.
Sure, this pearl might’ve been a win, but the hundreds you opened before were all losses.
Her private stash of money was once again emptied, all handed straight to Lu Chuan.
If Shen Li hadn’t hidden his funds well, even the money he painstakingly saved would’ve ended up in her hands!
That guy Lu Chuan—truly harmful.
By the time Lu Chuan had nearly bought out the island’s pearl oysters, with who knew how much cash he had on hand, the previous batch of dungeon players finally returned.
About thirty of them had gone in—fairly well-known teams hoping to hit Master-rank status. But only five came out alive, though that was already a survival rate of over 10%.
“This time, we entered the dungeon to fight gods alongside Xi Jiangyuan,” one survivor said bitterly. “In the dungeon, we all believed Xi Jiangyuan was our real captain. It wasn’t until near the end that I remembered, but by then it was too late. One of my teammates questioned him, and Xi Jiangyuan thought he was possessed by an evil spirit—so he killed him on the spot…”
According to this player, Xi Jiangyuan’s memories in the dungeon were frozen at the time of the event.
So when his “teammate” suddenly said something that made no sense to him, he naturally assumed possession and struck him down.
The rest, seeing this, didn’t dare speak out, and endured until the dungeon ended.
The player refused to say more. Their team had paid dearly for that intel, and there was no way they’d give it away for free.
Shen Li wanted to negotiate, but Lu Chuan pulled him away.
“No need. Each time it’s a different dungeon. And after so long, even if we learned Xi Jiangyuan’s old dungeons in advance, there’s little chance we’d recall them inside. Better to rely on ourselves.” Lu Chuan shrugged. “Sure, they cleared and survived—but the mutation wasn’t resolved. That proves they never reached the true core of the dungeon.”
Since they hadn’t touched the dungeon’s core, it wasn’t worth spending money.
Shen Li looked at Lu Chuan helplessly. “You should have made quite a bit recently—why are you still so stingy?”
Even scraps of information could sometimes hide the key to clearing a dungeon.
For players, gathering intel was always necessary.
“Ah, my cash flow’s tight. I’ll have to ship the rest of the pearl oysters back before I can turn them into money.” Lu Chuan gave a sweet yet pained smile. “Once Messiah helps advertise, players will be crying and begging to buy them.”
After all, there wasn’t much entertainment these days.
They couldn’t afford the luxury estates Lu Chuan sold before, but surely they could afford a little pearl oyster?
Never underestimate the power of celebrity effect.
Lu Chuan had already done the math: after deducting transport and losses, reselling at triple price wasn’t excessive—he needed some profit margin.
All that remained was marketing: emphasizing the beauty of pearl jewelry, inventing legendary stories, claiming it was an Ocean Heart tradition, giving pearls a narrative to boost their value…
He already had a hundred plans in mind.
With the influence of famous players like them, selling oysters wouldn’t be a problem.
Meanwhile, Shen Li just wished they’d hurry up and enter the dungeon.
“By the way, Shen, are you really going in with me?” Lu Chuan asked casually. “This is a mutated dungeon of a Master-rank player. Other Master-rank players won’t touch it. Even Cynthia only sent Lilus here. For her, challenging gods is the real priority. You just made the Master-rank list—going into this dungeon is a waste.”
Even if Shen Li cleared it, the rewards would likely be limited.
But if he failed, he might lose his life. Even surviving could mean his sanity being eroded by Xi Jiangyuan’s corruption. For Shen Li, the risks far outweighed the benefits.
If possible, Lu Chuan didn’t want Shen Li to follow him in. There was no need for him to take that risk.
“Since Edith and Shasha are going, why shouldn’t I? I was already part of your team before becoming Master-rank.” Shen Li said matter-of-factly. “Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you.”
If he didn’t watch Lu Chuan, who knew what trouble he might stir up inside the dungeon? Better to deal with problems at the source than clean up after him later.
“Old Shen, maybe you should just settle down, marry, and have kids. You’d make a great dad. Oh, I forgot—you’re Master-rank now, you can’t have children. Better hurry up and adopt Shasha so she can look after you in your old age.” Lu Chuan teased.
Veins bulged on Shen Li’s forehead. “I’m less than twenty years older than Shasha! And I’m a Master-rank player now. At this rate, I’ll probably be the one burying you!”
“Keep dreaming.” Lu Chuan smirked. He was destined to be a God of Wealth—he’d outlive everyone else.
At the same time.
Vivian and her people were debriefing the players who had just exited the dungeon.
Ocean Heart Guild had a dedicated team gathering intel: some analyzed which dungeon Xi Jiangyuan had been replaying, others profiled his personality based on accounts, and still others studied his connection to Abyss Guild.
To conquer the dungeon, they needed every scrap of information.
Vivian looked over the piles of notes, including endless gossip about Xi Jiangyuan, and felt a headache coming on.
“Captain, I suggest we send someone in immediately,” one expert said. “Based on the player’s description, the dungeon they entered was likely Xi Jiangyuan’s second-to-last before reaching Master-rank. Only five of his teammates survived. After that, he cleared one more and was vaulted straight to the Master-rank list.”
And dungeons after Master-rank weren’t something players like Vivian could endure.
Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon was progressing in sync with his own timeline. They were getting close to the Master-rank era. If they didn’t act now, they’d miss their chance.
Vivian’s expression hardened.
“What was Xi Jiangyuan’s last dungeon?”
“If the records are accurate, it was the supernatural-type dungeon Whistle. He brought in fifteen teammates, and only one survived. That lone survivor is now Abyss Guild’s vice-guildmaster.”
And currently, Abyss Guild was the only major guild that hadn’t sent anyone.
It all seemed to scream that something was wrong—that Xi Jiangyuan’s last pre-Master-rank dungeon had huge problems, so much so that Abyss Guild refused to be associated with him.
“Captain, maybe we should give up. Only one survivor out of fifteen—that’s insane. And you can’t even keep your memories inside. It’s far too dangerous.”
“Yeah, captain. Instead of risking this, we could just challenge another Master-rank dungeon.”
Her team was unanimous in opposing her entry. If the guild had to send someone, they could recruit specialists in supernatural dungeons.
“I’ll think carefully,” Vivian didn’t reject them outright. “My specialty isn’t in supernatural dungeons anyway. I’ll look for someone more suitable.”
Her players breathed a sigh of relief.
Supernatural dungeons were better handled by Noah Guild anyway.
“We can reach out to Messiah,” Vivian added. “If he and Lu Chuan are both going in, they’d better be prepared for only one of them to come out alive. I don’t want their two guilds getting too close.”
The five great guilds were allies, but also rivals.
Until Ocean Heart had young players to rival Lu Chuan and Messiah, they couldn’t afford to let those two bond too deeply.
“Yes, Captain.”
Meanwhile, Messiah was about to tell Lu Chuan about arranging with Vivian to enter tomorrow when one of his fans snuck to his window with critical news: Xi Jiangyuan’s last dungeon had left only one survivor.
Of all the rumors, this was the one that mattered most. Someone was clearly feeding him intel on purpose—likely Ocean Heart.
Messiah found it amusing.
When had his relationship with Lu Chuan grown so close that outsiders felt the need to sow discord?
They hadn’t even known each other that long.
Still, Messiah called Lu Chuan.
“I’ve heard that if we go into Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon, it’ll most likely be the S-rank supernatural dungeon Whistle. There’s little info, but the death rate is extremely high. Back then, Xi Jiangyuan only kept one teammate alive.” Messiah’s tone was meaningful. “You, the former top newcomer, are even more of a threat than me.”
