Chapter 69: Ambers of the Long Night (25)
Yi Ling watched in stunned silence as Tang Mobai killed off every elite member of the pursuit team, then calmly searched their bodies one by one. After a while, he walked over and handed her a small half-filled pouch.
“Eh…? You—you’re pinning this on me?” Yi Ling asked hesitantly, thinking he was dumping the blame on her, but still nervously accepted the bag.
Tang Mobai blinked. “? No. It’s loot. I’m giving you a share.”
“Oh, oh—so, an advance payment?” Yi Ling mumbled blankly, somehow coming to her own conclusion.
Tang Mobai tilted his head, then seemed to follow her train of thought. “Payment? So you’re saying you’re working for me now?”
“Aren’t I already your slave?” Yi Ling said weakly. Wasn’t that how this kind of thing always went? She hadn’t even read the contract she signed before—what was the point? It was obviously some “serve me or die” kind of deal. In the Paradise of the Damned, she hadn’t personally experienced such contracts, but she’d heard of them. Keeping her alive probably meant he found her abilities useful.
“You didn’t read the contract terms?” Tang Mobai asked.
Hearing that, Yi Ling finally took another look—and realized that the hastily signed contract only required her to help Tang Mobai eliminate the guild demons present. Nothing else.
…That was it?
She stared dumbfounded at him. “You… don’t know what my ability does?”
“I do,” Tang Mobai scratched his head. “If you want to join our guild, Fuguang, that’d be even better.”
But—you just missed the perfect chance to recruit me! Yi Ling almost choked. It felt like the cold, ruthless Tang Mobai who had just slaughtered an entire camp had vanished, replaced by the harmless, familiar one from before.
“You’re not afraid I’ll go back to join them again?” she asked.
Tang Mobai glanced down at the corpses scattered all over the ground.
Yi Ling: “…”
…Fair point. Even if she’d been forced, even if she claimed innocence, she was the only survivor among a pile of elite corpses. No one would ever believe her.
Yi Ling tentatively said, “So… I’ll go now?”
Tang Mobai nodded. He stood still and simply watched her leave.
She walked a few meters, then turned back. “I’m really leaving, you know?” Not even a token attempt to stop her? She was worth something!
Tang Mobai: “Goodbye.”
Yi Ling turned around again, walked a few dozen meters more, and looked back. He was still standing in the same spot, quietly watching her. Finally, she rounded a corner out of the area and looked back again—he was gone.
Yi Ling: “…”
*
“He’s still not back,” Deville muttered, sitting on the steps and staring at the corner, boredly kicking pebbles.
Then a shadow appeared not far away. His eyes lit up. He leapt to his feet and dashed over on his short legs. “Brother!”
“Deville.” Tang Mobai bent down and caught the small figure as he launched himself forward.
So strong a scent of blood…
Deville froze, then immediately started patting Tang Mobai all over, searching under his clothes.
“I’m fine. None of this blood is mine,” Tang Mobai said, catching Deville’s hand. His tone turned serious. “I’m not badly hurt. Don’t try to transfer my injuries. If you do, I won’t hug you anymore.”
Deville stiffened at once, reluctantly giving up the idea of healing him. “But I could’ve helped in the fight too. Why did you leave me behind?”
“Kids shouldn’t see so much blood—”
“I’m not a kid!” both of Deville’s personalities shouted in unison. “You know that! You never treated me like one before…”
Tang Mobai rubbed his head. It was true—he hadn’t treated Deville like a child before.
Actually, he’d treated him more like a… Chucky doll.
But as time passed, he’d realized Deville’s mind really was closer to that of a child. The Deville he’d met during the Revival match, even when acting silly, had clearly been an adult.
Sure, being a child didn’t grant special treatment in an infinite survival game—but still, as long as Tang Mobai was around, he preferred Deville not get his hands bloody.
Jealousy and Gluttony—Deville’s two inner voices—both sensed Tang Mobai’s change of attitude. Gluttony didn’t mind being treated like a kid, but Jealousy protested unhappily: “I’ve grown up already…”
Tang Mobai thought for a moment. “Then since you’re such a big kid, you can sleep alone tonight, right?”
“…He’s a kid! Deville’s still a kid!” Gluttony shouted back immediately.
Tang Mobai laughed. “Then let’s sleep together.”
Before sleeping, Tang Mobai opened his live stream and greeted the worried research team watching from reality. “Hey, I’m fine. Don’t worry, my dear.”
In the real world, the experts who had stayed up all night watching him finally let out a breath of relief. Many of the exhausted staff monitoring the stream also relaxed.
They had known he planned a counterattack—but no one knew whether it would end in triumph or disaster. Now, clearly, it was the former.
Gong Wen looked over at Wang Yuanzhi. “Is it okay?”
Wang Yuanzhi checked the time, then nodded.
A line of text scrolled across the live chat: [You did great. Really impressive.]
“Hehe.” Tang Mobai scratched his cheek shyly, only then realizing his hand was still smeared with blood. A little embarrassed, he wiped it off.
[Why am I getting fed couple fluff in the middle of the night?!]
[No one else thinks that same sweet smile looks creepily different when his face is spattered with blood?]
[Honestly yeah, it’s giving yandere vibes—scary but kinda hot.]
[So this is what “dark contrast appeal” means. Can’t believe I find him more attractive like this.]
[Same! He’s totally wife material now!]
[Guys, he already has a partner! They just showed off earlier!]
[Even better! (troll emoji)]
[You’re all insane! Go check Red Duke’s stream—it’s black! Tang Mobai did that!]
[Holy crap, I just came online—what the hell did I miss?! Tang Mobai, what did you DO?!]
[Tang Mobai you %$#&*! (profanity filtered)]
The guild demons had already realized something was wrong when Yi Ling’s stream cut off for more than five minutes. Then one by one, their own guildmates’ streams went dark. They were stunned.
No way… Did Tang Mobai really lose it and blow everyone up?
If that were the case, it wouldn’t even be the worst outcome—sure, losing those elites was painful, but replacing them was possible. If it meant removing a threat like Tang Mobai, it’d still be worth it.
But when Tang Mobai’s stream went live again, any trace of that comfort was shattered.
He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t even injured. He was smiling sweetly, chatting with his sponsor like nothing had happened—still doing couple banter. How could the other guilds not lose their minds?
[Wait, HOW? He was seriously injured before, wasn’t he!?]
[Hold on… why does this feel familiar?]
[I know! This happened back during the Revival Match too!]
[He pretended to be dying… to bait everyone’s intel?!]
[Damn it, we got played AGAIN! Everyone thought he was half-dead and relying on that bomb for defense, but he was totally fine—and used the night to slaughter them all!]
[Tang Mobai you %&@#*! (profanity filtered)]
[So that means Red Duke’s entire elite team is dead? Wait, one newbie’s stream is still online…]
[Maybe they ran away—but no one’s reopened their stream, so who knows.]
[So Tang Mobai soloed Red Duke’s elite strike team?!]
The chat fell silent. Thousands of viewers stared at Tang Mobai’s gentle smile in dead quiet.
This was the third time Tang Mobai had been targeted by the big guilds—or even the Merchant Alliance itself. Three was a sacred number. Third time’s the charm. And now, after witnessing the downfall of three major guild assaults, even the most cynical of demons couldn’t help but feel something shift in their hearts.
The first time Tang Mobai had crossed the Jade Society was during the Revival Match—when he was nothing but a broken “defective product” of the Paradise of the Damned. Everyone thought he’d die. But he hadn’t. He’d survived, overturned the Hunger Hell, and rewritten its order.
Then the Merchant Alliance retaliated—he detonated an overpowered bomb during a dungeon chase. Now this—another perfect counterattack.
Demons admired strength. They revered it more purely than anyone else. And now, as they stared at Tang Mobai’s serene, bloodstained smile, they all realized they were witnessing it again—
—the birth of a new legend.
The rise of a new king is always marked by the blood of the old. Some demons already believed—they were witnessing the very beginning of that scene.
No one saw Tang Mobai as just a pawn of some powerful backer anymore. When a pawn grows strong enough, it can leap off the board and become a player itself.
[Damn… Little Bai.]
[Is this still the same streamer we know? Did someone swap out the person behind the account?]
[id98373 tipped 100 points! Note: Absolutely insane, streamer! So badass! Too bad you didn’t have the camera on when you ambushed them—I really wanted to see Hongmo’s face when he died!]
[id34566 tipped 500 points! Note: I’m in love. Seriously, how did you pull that off? Teach me!]
[id75444 tipped 300 points! Note: That was epic! The Trade Alliance is done for, haha! They gathered all those elite guild members and still lost! Fuguang forever!]
[id82733 tipped 200 points! Note: Those Trade Guilds just embarrassed themselves so bad—lost money and men. I’ve totally changed my mind about you, streamer. Stop calling him Little Bai—it’s Brother Bai!]
[Don’t be fooled by how he looks like a sweet lovestruck fool—when it’s time to be ruthless, he’s ruthless as hell! By the way, Brother Bai, what happened to that rookie? Her stream is still live.]
Tang Mobai blinked at the sudden flood of viewers and scratched his head. “Uh, thanks everyone for the tips. Huh? Yi Ling? She’s… fine, I guess? Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”
He obviously wasn’t going to answer any probing questions—who knew how many guild spies were lurking in the chat? After a brief round of thanks to those who tipped big, Tang Mobai spent 1,000 points to exchange for a healing spell, completely mending his wounds, then closed the stream to rest.
The Lost City had plenty of rooms with unlocked doors, and oddly, the bedding wasn’t even dusty, as if everything here had only existed for half a day. Which, technically, was true—it was just an unfortunate bug in the Super Brain system.
After ending the stream, Tang Mobai wiped the blood off himself with wet tissues. There was no running water or electricity in the city, so he cleaned up as best he could and changed clothes. The bright, confident smile he had worn in front of the camera collapsed in an instant.
Deville had already finished preparing and was sitting on the bed, patting the spot beside him, full of expectation.
Normally, Tang Mobai might tease the kid a little, but tonight even speaking felt exhausting. He collapsed face-first onto the pillow, and the moment his head touched it, he was out cold.
Deville turned toward him. The Lost City had neither moonlight nor starlight—only darkness—but that didn’t stop the boy’s gaze from tracing Tang Mobai’s face softly through the shadows.
Even in sleep, he looked restless. His brow furrowed, as though trapped in a nightmare. Only in dreams did the faint cracks of unease and sorrow from all the killing leak through—his body curling slightly, like a child.
“Ugh, we should’ve gone with him,” Jealousy muttered inside Deville’s consciousness. “Because of this child’s body, we can only sit here being protected.”
“What’s wrong with being protected?” Gluttony asked innocently.
“Oh right, you really are a child,” Jealousy sneered. “You wouldn’t understand. Go to sleep.”
Gluttony pouted but sank back into the depths of consciousness. Deville moved slightly closer, wanting to wrap Tang Mobai in his arms—but with his small body, he ended up being the one who was pulled into the embrace instead.
For the first time, Jealousy felt the urge to return to his original form—not even an adult one, just big enough that Tang Mobai wouldn’t see him as a child who could only be protected.
Then Tang Mobai suddenly frowned, moving slightly. Deville froze, eyes wide, afraid he’d woken him—but Tang Mobai, half-asleep, simply reached out, pulled the warm source of movement against his chest, and murmured drowsily, “Heh… what a high-tech pillow… even heats itself.”
Deville’s eyes widened. His ears turned faintly red. Like a kitten suddenly caught in a lion’s mouth, he went stiff for a long while before finally nuzzling Tang Mobai’s neck, his face flushed.
So close. …So happy.
When Tang Mobai drifted back into deep sleep, he dreamed again of the Lao world—just like when he’d been pulled into the body of the undead giant. One vivid image after another flashed by, but this time the focus was clear: the Red Duke.
Or rather—what the Red Duke used to be. Much younger, but already merciless. Pillaging treasures, seizing land, slaughtering natives—men, women, elders, even children, all fell beneath his blade.
This time, Tang Mobai didn’t feel the agony of the visions firsthand; it was like watching a fast-forwarded film. When it ended, the surroundings faded to black, and one by one, the Lao people appeared before him, lining up to thank him.
“Thank you, young man.”
“Thanks.”
“Thank you for avenging us.”
“Much obliged, brother.”
An old man patted his shoulder kindly before walking away. A woman in a lovely dress waved goodbye, her smile brighter than flowers. Young couples held hands as they disappeared. Finally, a dark-skinned, silent youth approached Tang Mobai and placed a dagger in his hand.
“For you.”
Tang Mobai looked at the dagger, dazed. Then he smiled faintly, flipped it in his hand, and made a smooth spin, ending in a graceful flourish.
The motion felt natural—familiar. Recognition dawned. “Ah… it was you.”
No wonder. He’d never been good with short blades. The combat knife in his inventory had always been just a utility tool. Yet when he fought the Red Duke, he had drawn it instinctively—handled it with practiced ease.
He almost thought he’d awakened some secret close-combat talent. But no—it wasn’t him. It was the native’s spirit lending him skill.
“Thanks for your help,” Tang Mobai said. “Please… watch over the others too.”
The youth left the dagger with him, smiled faintly, and faded away.
At that moment, Tang Mobai’s hand burned. He jolted awake—it was already morning.
He removed his black gloves and stared at his hands. On his left wrist, the bloodvine mark Deville left remained; on his right hand, the ouroboros tattoo gleamed faintly. As he focused on it, new information surfaced in his mind:
*
[Sealed Artifact: Ouroboros Tattoo]
Effect 1: Contains the hidden legacy of an alchemical civilization, locked behind seven seals. The dead wish for you to avenge their destroyers—blood for blood. Each act of vengeance unlocks another portion of the knowledge. (Current progress: 1/7 — Destroy the Jade Society to fully awaken the legacy: “Emerald Codex” & “Philosopher’s Stone.”)
Effect 2: Burns faintly in the presence of invaders. Wounds inflicted upon them trigger “Blood Hunt,” pursuing the target until death.
Effect 3: The fury of the avenged becomes your own—while facing invaders, your Wrath remains maxed, granting +20% to all attributes.
Effect 4: Completing vengeance may earn you gratitude and gifts from natives. The more satisfied they are with your actions, the higher the reward chance.
Effect 5, 6: Locked.
*
Tang Mobai stared at his hand.
The dagger was gone—but the combat knife in his inventory pulsed faintly. The same sense of seamless familiarity returned. Even without the tattoo’s active bonus, he felt he could face the Red Duke again—and win.
As for the alchemical knowledge now imprinted in his mind—that would be for later, to deliver to the authorities once this dungeon ended.
The bed was empty. From the outer room came Deville’s voice:
“Brother, hurry! There’s someone moving in the city!”
Tang Mobai blinked, then answered, “Coming.”
*
From the skies to the underground.
At this moment, the entire society had fallen into chaos. It wasn’t just the uproar on the internet — ever since the day the Lost City appeared, high-ranking professionals and government officials across all sectors had begun to be systematically assassinated.
This society was built on extreme elitism — high-level talents monopolized most of the social resources, positions, and key occupations. But now, the assassinations were happening too fast, too suddenly. One gear after another in the social machinery was being destroyed before replacements could even be found. Some government departments were already showing signs of paralysis.
“Who the hell are those bastards!?”
At a Blue Sky Society base, Tu Xiao stared at the breaking news on mass assassinations, biting her lip hard.
The Queen hadn’t abdicated yet, but everyone aware of the internal election had already begun making quiet preparations — including Tu Xiao. She’d originally planned to lay low for a while, maybe do some charity work to boost her social rank.
But the chaos struck so abruptly that even she was caught off guard. Sure, the elimination of high-ranking talents technically helped her odds in the election — but even if she wanted to take down her rivals, she’d never resort to something this extreme. This was mutual destruction!
There was no doubt that these widespread assassinations were tied to the Resource King election — but who was behind it? And what kind of lunatic would act so recklessly, so completely without restraint?
Emmanuel was also in the Blue Sky base at this time. As he read through the intelligence that Ment had delivered, his expression changed. “Could it be…”
Tu Xiao turned sharply. “What? You know something?”
“No.” Emmanuel covered his mouth with a trembling hand. “That’s impossible.”
Such a brazen, lawless approach — he could think of only one kind of being. But why? Were they also after the Super Brain? Without chips, that should be impossible…
*
[World Collapse Level: 89%]
Ye Lin stood at the top floor of a hotel, the room splattered with blood. She had just watched the politician in front of her take his final breath.
[World Collapse Progress: 90%]
Ye Lin exhaled and reported to her livestream: “It’s done.”
A stream of comments flickered across the screen:
[Why are we pushing the collapse level higher? Normally, yeah, we’d want to — but since the Super Brain is the AI controlling this computer world, won’t destroying it further just damage the Super Brain more?]
[Are you new here, bro? You don’t know what the World Collapse Bar means?]
[The collapse level represents the world’s degree of apocalypse. The higher it goes, the more territory Lost Paradise can broadcast to. In short — at 30%, livestream opens; at 50%, the Demon Mall functions normally; at 90%, higher-tier demons from above can descend.]
[Even though this dungeon’s only open to the Hungry Hell, once collapse hits over 90%, demons from Crisis Hell can appear here too.]
[But even so, we still can’t obtain the Super Brain, right? From what we know, this world is a virtual construct by the computer system. Lost Paradise likely digitalized us to enter it, but we don’t have chips — we’re complete outsiders.]
[Exactly. We can’t reach the real native world. In a computer world like this, the only known way to seize the Super Brain is by increasing level — the method Emmanuel mentioned — but without chips, that’s impossible. So what, we’re supposed to just rob it?]
[That won’t work. The Super Brain’s basically the admin of this virtual world. You’ve seen it yourself — the Queen’s power is godlike here, she is the system. Even if a Great Demon descended, they wouldn’t win. Worst case, she just shuts down the world entirely. What could anyone do then?]
That was precisely why Emmanuel hadn’t cared whether Tang Mobai exposed their plan through the stream — the demons entering this world didn’t have chips. To seize the Super Brain, they’d have to rely on help from the natives.
Unfortunately, whoever had told him that intel hadn’t explained the full rules of Lost Paradise.
[Actually, there is another way.]
[Yeah, that’s right.]
[? What are you guys hinting at up there?]
[Ah, you folks from Hungry Hell wouldn’t know this — it only applies to Crisis Hell and higher-tier dungeons.]
[??? Now I’m curious.]
The demons from Crisis Hell finally satisfied their urge to show off, revealing the secret slowly:
[Once you reach Crisis Hell, there are multiple ways to enter a world. Hungry Hell demons enter with just their physical forms — no identities, no cover. But higher-tier demons can possess or replace local identities instead. It’s more covert and way more convenient.]
[In other words, once the world collapse hits 90%, higher demons can descend — and they can possess or directly replace local hosts, even in a virtual world.]
At that very moment, across this virtual world — people of level 20, 30, 40 suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. Their source data had already been overwritten by the demons sent from Lost Paradise.
“Alright then,” said a man with slicked-back hair as he stepped out of his narrow apartment, smiling as he pulled on his gloves. “The game’s only just begun.”
Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉
