Chapter 302: Mysterious as a Web

“She has a fever—probably from shock.”

On the way, one of the female lawyers first grew weak, then developed fever and night sweats.

Chu Danqing was not a professional, so he tried having Dabai treat her.

But the results were poor—it was both psychological and pathological, not an injury, so his expertise didn’t quite fit.

So Chu Danqing gave her a single ibuprofen capsule and had Dabao carry her.

In the meantime, Chu Danqing found a secluded spot and re-summoned the Pure Yang Heavenly General, sending him back into the talisman to continue guarding him.

Then he considered whether to summon Yang Qianyuan.

Guo Ming and Xiong Mou were primarily responsible for combat, but this trial world belonged to the Nightmare Realm.

As their trump cards, they needed to be summoned cautiously.

Yang Qianyuan of the Celestial Mechanism branch, however, could offer better assistance.

But Yang Qianyuan’s strength was too low—if he saw even a fraction of the gods’ horrors, he might die on the spot.

In the end, he decided to summon him anyway; even if he couldn’t stay for the whole mission, some advice would help.

【You summoned Alliance Partner #3. This consumes 48 Park Points.】

【Alliance Partner has responded.】

【Alliance Partner’s cognitive rationalization for summoning has been completed.】

【Given the Apostle is currently on a War Mission: Covert Infiltration, the ally is undergoing identity synchronization and disguise.】

This time, the Park added a new reminder—when Yang Qianyuan stepped out of the vortex, his appearance and that of the Omen Spider had changed.

“Big Brother Chu—no, Mr. William—I’m Randy Maxim, the scholar your distant relative hired for you.” Yang Qianyuan’s appearance had become that of a blond-haired, blue-eyed man.

Combined with his proper scholar’s robe, he looked every bit the intellectual.

“It seems you understand the situation in this trial world,” Chu Danqing said.

“Yes, no need for you to explain, Mr. William,” Yang Qianyuan immediately slipped into his role.

His acting was far more natural than Chu Danqing’s—if Chu Danqing hadn’t known Yang Qianyuan was summoned by him, he’d never have guessed he was an outsider.

“Alright, what’s your suggestion?” Chu Danqing said, pulling out the Spirit Eye Treasure Chain and handing it to Yang Qianyuan: “See if you can use it.”

Yang Qianyuan glanced at its stats and immediately put it around his neck: “First, find the rest of the missing members.”

“Inheriting a noble’s estate isn’t easy—without a team of lawyers skilled in twisting truth and lies, the difficulty is immense.”

As he spoke, the Omen Spider’s legs twitched rhythmically, weaving a web for divination.

But the moment the web was complete, its pure white strands rapidly turned black.

“A dire omen,” Yang Qianyuan whispered. “Mr. William, we’ve been touched by mysterious fate.”

“Huh? Speak plainly—we’re just the two of us,” Chu Danqing said, exasperated.

“I don’t know. ‘Mysterious fate’ is just the Park’s description, combined with results from Celestial Mechanism calculations.”

“This trial world is terrifying—filled with terrifying entities called gods. They’re real gods, not false pretenders.”

“If my destined fate had been sent here, he’d just sit and wait to die,” Yang Qianyuan said honestly.

In short: they’re strong. We keep a low profile.

Chu Danqing finally understood.

“So the intensity is this high?” Chu Danqing’s expression was flat—was the Park really treating him like some powerhouse?

Luckily, the Park was even stronger, masking his identity even from the gods of this trial world.

As for why they’d been touched, he didn’t yet know—but it might be tied to the inheritance he was about to claim.

Otherwise, why bother meddling with some nobody like him?

“Actually, it’s not just us—others are touched too. But humans are His lambs.”

“A shepherd watches over his lambs—that’s only natural,” Yang Qianyuan meant that all humanity was being watched by the gods.

But because Chu Danqing and he had just encountered one god, their attention was slightly higher.

To those who regularly met gods and monsters, it was nothing—but compared to ordinary people, it made them glaringly obvious.

It all depends on who you’re comparing to.

Hearing this, Chu Danqing relaxed—he’d just been unlucky. No big deal.

But Yang Qianyuan changed tone: “Yet this mystery is like a web—once touched, it entangles into an inextricable knot, eventually turning inward and crushing itself.”

“So if you never meet it, you’ll never encounter it,” Chu Danqing immediately understood. “But once you do, you’re stuck with it forever.”

“Exactly,” Yang Qianyuan nodded.

Chu Danqing sucked in a sharp breath—things were going to get bad.

“But this is only a Celestial Mechanism prediction—I don’t know much about this trial world. I might be wrong.” Yang Qianyuan didn’t state it as fact.

His knowledge of this trial world came entirely from the Park’s implanted memories—some scholarly knowledge, but little on mystery or gods.

So he couldn’t be certain his conclusion was right.

Chu Danqing was about to speak when Rudolf’s voice came: “William, we should leave.”

He walked over, then saw Yang Qianyuan and paused: “Who’s this?”

“Mr. Rudolf, the late Count Hamlet asked me to convey his regards,” Yang Qianyuan spoke first. “I am Randy Maxim, scholar-consultant to the future Count Hamlet, Mr. William.”

“The late Count Hamlet sent me to find Mr. William and help him quickly understand the duties and capabilities befitting a noble.”

Rudolf relaxed—he’d heard nobles employed scholar-consultants to manage their lands and assets.

He hadn’t expected one to show up so directly—and to find Chu Danqing so easily.

But it was good for them.

In the past, he’d had to beg just to meet a noble’s scholar-consultant.

“Ah, Mr. Randy, pleased to meet you,” Rudolf quickly greeted.

Offend a noble, and they might ignore you.

But offend a scholar-consultant, and one word from him could ruin your life.

“Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Rudolf,” Yang Qianyuan said. “I’ve already learned the situation from Mr. William. We shouldn’t chat now.”

“You must find your colleagues quickly—Mr. William needs them alive to serve him.”

Compared to Chu Danqing, Yang Qianyuan spoke far more bluntly—he outright demanded they know their place.

Rudolf’s expression shifted—he heard the rebuke.

You called him William when he was just an office worker—fine.

But now you still call him that? Do you really think you’re someone important?

Chu Danqing realized it too—he usually didn’t care about such things.

But Yang Qianyuan, shaped by a feudal dynasty and the scholar-consultant identity, immediately used etiquette to correct them.

To make sure these lawyers understood their proper status.

“Of course, of course,” Rudolf smiled obsequiously. “I came to tell Mr. William good news—we found the others.”

Even without Yang Qianyuan’s words, Rudolf wouldn’t dare disrespect Chu Danqing now.

“Good. Lead the way,” Yang Qianyuan said, his smile polite but false. “And tell us the details.”

“Just now, they met a monk from the Ikram Monastery who had come out to buy medicine,” Rudolf said as he led them.

Along the way, Chu Danqing and Yang Qianyuan learned the full story.

The lawyer team had run into the monk, been calmed down by him, and then returned to find them.

Chu Danqing saw the monk—a frail old man in a hooded linen robe.

“Everyone’s here, right? Night’s coming—we must return to the monastery quickly.”

“The wilderness at night is extremely dangerous,” the old monk said, glancing at Chu Danqing and Yang Qianyuan.

He didn’t care about the extra person.

“Of course. I’ll take charge,” Chu Danqing said. “Please, Brother Monk, lead us—we need rest urgently.”

“We’ll offer sufficient offerings to the monastery.”

Chu Danqing’s acting wasn’t as smooth as Yang Qianyuan’s, but he was adapting.

Otherwise, he’d be wasting the identity advantage the Park gave him.

Hearing the word “offerings,” the old monk’s expression flickered with faint delight.

“The Ikram Monastery welcomes distant guests. We will provide soft white bread and steaming meat broth to dispel your weariness,” the monk said immediately.

Then he led the way, continuously describing the Ikram Monastery’s history.

He even recounted its peak thirty years ago.

But he concealed why it had declined.

From his enthusiastic tone, Chu Danqing was certain the monk had witnessed the monastery’s glory and its fall.

“Do you have a physician here? One of our members isn’t well,” Chu Danqing pointed to the female lawyer carried by Dabao.

The old monk replied with quiet pride: “Of course. Once, Ikram Monastery was the finest sanatorium in the Golden Eagle Federation.”

“Even now, though we’ve retreated into seclusion, we still have the best monk-physicians.”

But when he said “seclusion,” his tone felt unnatural—as if he were fooling himself.

It was an excuse, not true seclusion.

(End of Chapter)