Chapter 57: Fate Contract: The Lucky Hunter

Taimora smiled, her cold expression melting like ice: “Mortal, your future self will thank you for today’s decision.”

Fang Shi also smiled: “Madam, I think so too.”

Both held secret thoughts, yet their smiles were utterly sincere.

In Taimora’s hand, golden light shimmered, and a gray sheet of paper floated before her.

The paper was the size of an A4 page, covered in arcane runes.

Taimora spoke calmly: “This is the drafted Fate Contract. If there are no issues, sign it.”

Fang Shi was about to say he was illiterate, couldn’t read, and that the script on the contract was Divine Script—only a deity could understand it.

But Taimora simply flung the contract toward him.

“...”

“Fate Contract detected.”

“Would you like to spend 1000 Survival Points to translate and notarize it?”

A stream of data from his attribute panel flashed before his eyes.

Fang Shi paused, a thought stirring in his mind: the deity clearly understood the attribute panel.

But 1000 points? That’s far too much!

Fang Shi had only accumulated 1500 Survival Points since he began killing.

Just to translate and notarize this contract would cost 1000 points.

He’d lose two-thirds of his total at once.

After thinking it over, Fang Shi decided to agree.

Though Taimora was a benevolent deity, alignments can shift.

How could a mortal fathom a deity’s heart? What if she fell?

As the embodiment of Luck, Taimora naturally had countless followers.

Her alignment and doctrine were shaped primarily by her own nature.

Even if she were a demon god, she’d never lack followers, nor would she be bound by them.

Unlike some deities whose divine portfolios carry clear alignment biases, explicitly codified in their doctrines.

Their followers are chosen only from corresponding alignments—they cannot arbitrarily shift alignment.

Otherwise, if alignment shifts, followers flee, and the backlash of faith would be devastating.

Thus, Fang Shi had every reason to ensure the fairness of this Fate Contract.

“Madam, do you have Survival Points? Could you spare me some?”

“I need Survival Points to sign the Fate Contract—I’m just a mortal, I can’t sign without them.”

Taimora gazed deeply at Fang Shi, saying nothing.

A stream of golden light flowed toward Fang Shi.

“You have received 1000 Faith Points.”

“Detected: no Divine Core. 1000 Faith Points converted into 1000 Survival Points.”

“Is that enough?”

“More than enough,” Fang Shi nodded.

It wasn’t that he wanted more—the Lady of Luck hadn’t even asked how much; she gave 1000 points outright, proving she understood the attribute panel.

Fang Shi didn’t know how much 1000 Faith Points were worth.

But from Taimora’s unhesitating gesture, he could infer she was determined to seal this contract.

“You have spent 1000 Survival Points.”

“Fate Contract translated.”

“Fate Contract notarized.”

“After verification, imprint your consciousness onto the Fate Contract to complete the signing.”

Fang Shi re-examined the Fate Contract. The text hadn’t changed, yet he now understood it—as if he’d been granted Tongue of Languages.

But it was stranger than Tongue of Languages: he didn’t just grasp the basic meaning of the Divine Script—he understood its origins, allusions, slang, even the underlying rules.

This eliminated any possibility of contractual ambiguity.

It gave Fang Shi the illusion that he could wield astonishing power through the Divine Script alone.

Yet sadly, the moment he shifted his focus away from the contract,

all memory of the Divine Script vanished, leaving only the translated meaning behind.

This comprehension of Divine Script disappeared entirely, like a reflection on water or a dream dissolving.

Fang Shi couldn’t help but marvel: this was worth every point.

With such a convenient translation function, he could even dare to sign contracts with demons and devils.

As long as he remained cautious, he’d never be tricked.

After an hour of meticulous study,

Fang Shi considered countless possibilities, ensuring not a single clause held a flaw,

then imprinted his true name onto the contract with his consciousness.

This process included carefully inspecting the contract’s ornamental borders, guarding against hidden clauses.

He also strictly limited the execution timeline, preventing the Lady of Luck from delaying payment for a hundred years.

In short, he left no loophole unexamined, exhausting every brain cell he’d gained from his rebirth.

“Madam, it’s done.”

Fang Shi tossed the Fate Contract back to Taimora.

Taimora took it, waved her hand, and a rushing sound like a waterfall echoed from the heavens.

Fang Shi looked up—the sky revealed a colossal river, blotting out sun and stars.

And in his consciousness, the river was even grander.

It seemed as boundless as the multiverse, immeasurable and vast.

Each drop of water was the life of a sentient being.

Each ripple was the trajectory of all things.

This was the manifestation of Fate—the River of Fate.

Far more majestic than the river Taimora had summoned.

It bore all life, flowing endlessly along its course, unstoppable and unchangeable.

Everything seemed inevitable. Everything was destiny.

“Shhh!”

The Fate Contract became a streak of light, cast by Taimora into the River of Fate.

Instantly, Fang Shi understood: Fate had acknowledged the contract.

It had inscribed the contract into the trajectories of all beings.

It must be fulfilled—even if you personally refuse.

Fate will show you what coincidence means, what destiny means.

Even if Taimora perished, any demand she issued before death would remain binding.

The executor would become the River of Fate itself.

It would weave a new destiny, imposing punishment upon Fang Shi under a chain of conditions.

Or rather, the River of Fate had always known the future.

Every action Taimora and Fang Shi had taken was already within Fate.

Now, they were merely going through the motions—enacting the future in the mortal world.

This was a fate. A destined destiny.

Unless one transcended Fate, all beings were encompassed within it.

But who could transcend Fate? Even the gods were swept within its current.

Fang Shi fell silent, then smiled: “Madam, you should now fulfill your end of the contract.”

Since signing the Fate Contract, Taimora’s face had worn a mysterious, inscrutable smile.

“Mortal, this is the reward I grant you.”

She withdrew a sphere of chaotic, indescribable color and tossed it to Fang Shi.

“This is Primordial Force from the Age of Chaos. Absorb this force, and you will gain Primordial Force Resistance.”

“As for your second reward, which skill do you wish to upgrade?”

Fang Shi answered without hesitation: “I choose Lightning Reflex II.”

Why Lightning Reflex II? Because upgrading it again would grant the Epic skill Lightning Reflex III.

Reaction speed would rise from +3 to +7—equivalent to adding 14 points of Agility to reaction speed.

This was a massive qualitative leap.

If Fang Shi tried to train it himself, he had no confidence he could raise Lightning Reflex to Level 3.

Even legendary Qiangzhe only elevated their primary skills to Epic rank; most remained below Epic.

Fang Shi wasn’t even first-rank—he couldn’t possibly train a skill to Epic rank. That was pure fantasy.

Taimora didn’t care. The Fate Contract was sealed; no turning back.

Even she would pay a price if she broke the Fate Contract.

That is the punishment of a shattered divine throne and the eternal slumber of the Star Realm.

As long as Taimora isn’t stupid, she knows to choose this.

Moreover, even if Taimora does not pay, in the upcoming adventures,

Fang Shi will inevitably acquire these rewards by chance.

Of course, Taimora knows exactly which specialties Fang Shi possesses.

Fang Shi’s request to upgrade Lightning Reflexes caused no surprise whatsoever.

After all, Lightning Reflexes already exists, and upgrading it consumes far less divine power than generating an Epic specialty from nothing.

“【Lightning Reflexes III】: Your reaction speed has far surpassed that of a human. (Reaction Speed +7)”

As Taimora’s divine power took effect, Fang Shi felt his body begin to change.

The nerve fibers within him thickened, while simultaneously branching into countless finer subdivisions, integrating into the most minute regions of the tissue.

Some nerve fibers even began fusing with various cells, forming a unified whole where each contained the other.

The result was a more streamlined myelin sheath structure, with Schwann cells and Ranvier nodes operating with greater efficiency.

A single thought turned, swift as lightning.

“Is this the world as seen by a Speedster?” Fang Shi thought.

Now, in his perception, everything around him moved with excruciating slowness.

The faint breeze from nowhere, the dust motes in the air, Taimora’s casual gesture of brushing her hair.

Everything resembled a film slowed down tenfold.

But the changes were not limited to this—Fang Shi was horrified to discover his perception range had sharply diminished.

Most obviously, his vision: he realized he had become nearsighted.

Distant scenes grew blurry, as if veiled by a thin gauze.

The other four senses were harder to compare in the labyrinth, but Fang Shi was certain their range and precision had also decreased.

“What’s going on? An Epic specialty has compressed my perception? That shouldn’t happen?”

As Fang Shi puzzled over this, Taimora in the slow world suddenly smiled faintly.

But strangely, the speed of her smile matched that of the normal world.

“Mortal, do you now feel the world as seen by the strong?”

“As one evolves, the world perceived by the transcendent grows ever faster.”

“When one ascends to the divine throne, a moment becomes eternity.”

Taimora spoke at a normal pace, yet in the normal world, her words flew by at blinding speed.

Ordinary mortals could not make out a single syllable.

Fang Shi instantly understood: it was not his perception that had declined.

Rather, with his reaction speed increased, he had become aware of too much.

His brain could not process it all, so it passively blurred the excess.

It had not been obvious before, because he had not yet reached his brain’s processing limit.

Now, the Epic-level Lightning Reflexes had boosted his reaction speed by the equivalent of eight points of Agility—his brain had simply crashed.

He had assumed that, aside from mages, other classes did not need to focus on Intelligence.

It seemed not that they didn’t need it, but that they had not yet reached the limit.

Others received stat bonuses upon class advancement, so Intelligence and Agility would not diverge so drastically.

He had prematurely acquired an Epic specialty while still at zero level, naturally causing this awkward phenomenon.

Fang Shi adjusted slightly, and his perception finally returned to the normal world.

Under these conditions, his brain would consciously filter out objects moving at extreme speeds.

This did not interfere with daily combat or life in normal state.

“Thank you, Madam, for your guidance.”

Taimora smiled: “Mortal, this is part of the path of transcendence. You would have understood it soon enough without my guidance.”

“Then, farewell. I believe that one day in the future, you will not disappoint me.”

As the golden light on Jiang Xian’s body faded, Taimora departed the Trial Tower entirely.

……

“Ah!”

A shrill, piercing female scream rang out—Jiang Xian, regaining control of her body, let out a cry of pain.

She frantically patted and explored her own body.

Ignoring Fang Shi’s presence before her, she even pulled down her pants to look.

The sight caused another scream.

A deity’s alteration of reality is never simple.

Jiang Xian had truly transformed from a youthful boy into a beautiful girl.

She dared not believe it, touched herself with her hand—and of course, found nothing.

“Stop screaming,” Fang Shi said coolly. “It’s just a gender change. What’s so special? You can use Permanent Transformation later to revert it.”

Under Fang Shi’s calm gaze, Jiang Xian calmed down.

For some reason, Taimora had not blocked Jiang Xian’s consciousness.

She remembered everything that had happened and understood that the man before her was someone who could bargain with deities.

“You must have chosen Ranger as your class, and your patron deity appears to be the Lady of Luck.”

“Take a good look at your stat panel.”

Jiang Xian, in her state of despair and sorrow, mechanically obeyed Fang Shi’s instruction.

But when she looked, she was stunned.

Agility and Strength increased by two points each; Constitution, Perception, and Intelligence each increased by one point.

Most importantly, Charisma rose from 12 to 16.

A total of eleven full stat points gained.

Moreover, her level-1 Ranger class had become level-1 Lucky Hunter.

The new class also granted a new specialty.

“【Lucky Shot】: When attacking with bows, crossbows, or other ranged weapons, your shooting modifier increases by +1.”

This specialty’s effect was simple: automatic shot correction.

With this specialty, even a laid-back hunter could hit the target.

Sometimes, shooting casually might prove more accurate than aiming intently.

In short, it was a god-tier specialty for archers.

And this was merely level-1 Lucky Hunter.

Jiang Xian was no fool; she quickly grasped the implications.

With this specialty, even if she couldn’t track the Firewing Bird’s flight path, she might still land a headshot.

But her excitement faded quickly, replaced by despair.

This had been bought at the cost of her own… little brother. The price was too high.

Upon learning of Jiang Xian’s stat changes, Fang Shi mused: “It seems the Lady of Luck intends to make you a Chosen.”

“Young man—no, young lady—work hard. I have faith in your future.”

“After we clear the Infinite Labyrinth, don’t leave yet. Wait for me—I’ll take you to a human settlement.”

Jiang Xian’s eyes lit up, then dimmed again as she murmured: “What’s the point of leaving? My little brother won’t come back.”

Fang Shi was speechless: “Didn’t I just tell you? You can use Permanent Transformation to revert it. Did you not hear me?”

Jiang Xian perked up slightly: “What is Permanent Transformation?”

“An eighth-circle spell, usable by a level-15 mage,” Fang Shi said coolly.

Of course, he did not tell her that while eighth-circle transformation spells are permanent, they can be undone by Anti-Magic Fields or Dispel Magic.

Still, hearing the good news, Jiang Xian finally smiled happily.

Combined with her current appearance, she looked beautiful and adorable.

“Thank you. You’re such a good person.”

“…”

PS: Thank you to Bookworm00100 for two Moon Tickets.