Chapter 301

Previously, when Wu Chang saved the Negotiator, she had said that while fleeing, she noticed a player lurking near the Centipede Puppet, attacking her alongside it.

She used her ultimate move to blow off one of its hands, forcing it to flee wounded.

According to the Negotiator's subsequent deduction, that player had clear intent, and his coordination with the Centipede Puppet revealed unusually aggressive behavior—its movements were likely directed or guided by him.

Misfortune's Embrace is monopolized by the Four Organizations; ordinary players cannot enter, and even if lucky enough to randomly enter, the instance's rules prevent the same player from entering multiple times.

Only someone deeply connected to the Four Organizations could know the instance's monsters' habits and control or guide them.

A player closely tied to the Four Organizations who did not help Wu Chang gather intelligence but instead assassinated members of the other Four Organizations—his identity is obvious.

He is either a remnant of the Evolutionist faction within the Four Organizations, or he is acting on Lin Jiang's orders.

Wu Chang had not forgotten: his greatest purpose in entering Misfortune's Embrace was to kill Lin Jiang and reclaim the highest authorization held by him within the Four Organizations.

This matter concerns both the Real World and the Wasteland Realm—not merely doing favors for Hou Jingchuan. If the Four Organizations fall entirely under Evolutionist control, and the Light Society sends agents to seize the Wasteland Realm and the Real World, Huanxi will not let him off easily.

Helping Hou Jingchuan is also helping himself.

Lin Jiang must not be allowed to leave the instance alive.

Right now, finding the man with the severed hand would lead them straight to Lin Jiang; unless this nuisance is dealt with, he could not sleep or eat in peace.

The car stopped on Luomanjie, one of the three poorest slums in Sigef City, home to the city's underclass.

Black-skinned, brown-skinned, undocumented black workers, refugees, the desperately poor drowning in debt…

It is also called the last stop before becoming homeless, because living here is equivalent to stamping four characters on your identity records: unwelcome.

Even for the simplest odd jobs, employers refuse to hire anyone who lives on Luomanjie.

The man with the severed hand lives here.

First, because it's cheap; second, because it's chaotic.

Luomanjie is full of destitute disabled people; losing a hand here is considered a minor injury, unnoticed by anyone.

Except for Bai Lao.

Wu Chang and the others got off the car outside Luomanjie; driving a luxury vehicle into Luomanjie would be too conspicuous and alert the target—they had to walk in.

From the moment they crossed the Luomanjie sign, it was no exaggeration to say the air grew heavier with new elements.

Most people who live here don't buy deodorant; if they had that kind of money, they'd rather buy two more packs of leaves.

The thick stench of body odor and the pungent smell of leaves had soaked into every inch of the street.

Beyond these revolting odors, Wu Chang also smelled death.

Many people had died here in a short time.

Miles covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief and pointed to a three-story gray-brown building:

"According to intelligence from below, the man with the severed hand lives inside. To avoid targeting the wrong person, we thoroughly investigated his background."

"The man calls himself Dipp. He suddenly appeared on Luomanjie three days ago. We asked a few sharp kids on the street—they said when they first saw Dipp, his hand was still intact."

"Dipp worked in the kitchen of a small restaurant just outside Luomanjie. Four others joined him in the kitchen; they all live on Luomanjie and are all under surveillance by our people."

Wu Chang nodded after listening and said to Miles: "Good work."

A smile appeared on Miles's face; since the Negotiator and Colton joined, their presence had severely squeezed his position within Bai Lao's organization.

In social skills, he couldn't match the Negotiator; in vision and knowledge, he couldn't rival Colton; in combat strength, he had none.

Tasks were being handed out to others, making him expendable—if things continued like this, he'd eventually be optimized out.

To avoid being optimized, he had to carve out a new path—he chose intelligence gathering.

So far, his progress seemed promising.

Miles continued: "Last night at eleven, after finishing work, Dipp didn't leave his room—he's probably still inside. Boss, should we send our people in?"

Wu Chang shook his head. "I'll go alone. You stay outside."

Miles knew better than to ask unnecessary questions; seeing his boss determined to act alone, he dared not interfere and led the others to hold position outside.

Wu Chang stepped into the building sponsored by Dipp—the moment he entered, the overwhelming stench nearly made him retch.

He frowned and pressed forward, sensing hostile gazes all around him.

He had come in a hurry and hadn't changed clothes—he'd left his suit jacket in the car, but he still wore his shirt and vest, whose fabric quality alone revealed their high value.

To the building's residents, he was a fat lamb walking straight into their jaws; even a little scraping off him could feed them for months, even a year.

Wu Chang could even hear the sound of guns being chambered behind more than one door.

He sighed, punched through the thin wall to his right, and yanked out a man with jet-black skin, resembling a criminal from Conan's world, by the throat.

The black man, choking in midair, wisely dropped his pistol and raised his hands in surrender.

Wu Chang threw the black man to the ground and asked: "Do you know Dipp? A guy missing one hand."

The black man nodded.

Wu Chang crushed the pistol on the ground with his foot and said: "Take me to his room."

The black man glanced sadly at the scattered gun parts on the ground, gathered them up, stuffed them into his pocket, and stood to lead Wu Chang deeper into the building.

After Wu Chang showed his strength, the stares directed at him softened considerably; people averted their eyes and returned to their previous activities.

The black man led Wu Chang through twists and turns to a staircase descending downward. They reached the second basement level and stopped before a basement marked 210.

"Mr., Dipp lives here."

Wu Chang nodded and casually pulled out a twenty-federal bill and tossed it to the black man. "If you don't want to die, stay far away."

The black man's eyes flickered greedily over Wu Chang's bulging wallet; he bowed his head, took the money, and turned to walk away quickly.

"If you need to find anyone else, come find me—on Luomanjie, there's no one Jon can't find."

Wu Chang turned his gaze back to basement 210. He was certain the black man hadn't lied—because only this door's entrance had no cockroaches moving around.

They feared whatever lay behind it.

He reached out to knock, but hesitated, staring at the door's greasy, polished surface—he couldn't bring himself to touch it. He considered wrapping his hand in a handkerchief, but feared wasting one.

This handkerchief, given free with the suit, was worth enough to buy this entire basement.

Forget it, he was too lazy to hesitate and kicked the door open with one foot.

"Hello, Mr. Deep, I have something to ask you—could you come with me?"

Wu Chang lowered his head and stepped into Room 201.

The moment he entered, he sensed something was wrong—the room was far too large.

According to his earlier observation, each basement chamber here was at most five square meters, just enough for a single bunk bed.

Yet as he stepped inside, he couldn't see the door he'd kicked in, nor could he spot Deep at first glance.

The Inner World?

He activated his Spatial Magic and immediately sensed anomalies in the surrounding space.

Not only did he sense spatial distortion, but also a heavy dampness in the air.

Deep has no ability to lift the instance rule suppression—how could he use magic of this level?

The deeper he walked, the darker the room became; it wasn't just darkness—it was as if the environment itself was trying to strip away his vision.

It was a rule-like ability, similar to Thousand Eyes' evasion attack, which could reflect an attack back onto its caster.

But before his high willpower, the rules within the darkness were powerless, unable to take effect.

Did Deep keep an instance monster in his room?

If so, then his earlier suspicion—that he could command monsters—was fully confirmed.

After darkness came dampness.

Heavy moisture rose from below; Wu Chang felt a thin layer of standing water beneath his feet.

The water hadn't reached the tops of his shoes, like a faucet left running—but his Oceanic Bloodline told him this thin layer was far deeper than it appeared.

Falling into it would be like falling into the true deep sea.

Relying on his Oceanic Bloodline, Wu Chang stepped across the water without making a sound.

He walked another thirty meters and finally saw Deep within the space.

He was a man clad in a mage's robe, a knight's sword hanging at his waist; his left hand was clearly missing, reduced to half a palm.

Tiny buds wriggled along the edge of the stump, regenerating at a slow but visibly detectable pace.

Deep was processing corpses—dozens of them lay arranged beside him.

He pulled one corpse toward him, pried out its eyeball, and submerged it in the water.

The eyeless corpse sank completely beneath the surface within a few breaths, vanishing entirely.

Seeing this, Wu Chang frowned—he hadn't expected Deep to coordinate so seamlessly with an instance monster.

If he wasn't mistaken, the primary rule of this space was to strip away vision—and likely willpower as well.

When vision was fully lost, those who entered the space would sink into the "deep sea" beneath their feet and be swallowed by it.

Right now, he could see Deep—but Deep hadn't noticed him, meaning the space's rules affected him too.

Wu Chang wasn't sure if Lin Jiang and the others were here; since Deep hadn't detected him, he unleashed his Chaos Power to determine whether only Deep was present.

Whether it was due to the influence of this space or whether Deep's mental state had always been unstable, he couldn't tell.

Less than a minute later, Deep became erratic and began muttering to himself.

"Those bastards are outrageous—they enjoy their bloodshed, then dump all the dirty, tedious work on me, forcing me to merge with darkness prematurely."

"That stone man deserves to die—it's all his fault for losing control."

"The maggots of Iron Armor Squad deserve to die—they looked down on me, so of course their squad got crushed."

"All the others deserve to die, deserve to die—I want to sink them all, I want to hear them struggle in the dark sea."

……

As Deep muttered, Wu Chang saw a dozen or so dark shadows lurching toward him from the door he'd kicked open; each carried some kind of firearm, and beside their leader, a figure was gesturing wildly.

Their camouflage was too strong—he couldn't make out their faces, but the flickering white teeth confirmed the leader was Xiao Hei, the guide from earlier.

He shook his head—he'd already warned them; they brought this on themselves.

Xiao Hei's group burst in and immediately sensed something was off, but they assumed the basement was just unusual; they shouted for Deep and Wu Chang to come out.

Wu Chang had spoken only once outside the door, and it hadn't drawn Deep's attention.

The commotion from Xiao Hei's group made it impossible for Deep to ignore.

He paused his corpse-processing hand, tilting his ear to listen.

Once he identified them as ordinary humans, disappointment flickered across his face; he clenched his right hand toward the air.

"Welcome to the Blind Abyss."

The next instant, the eyes on Xiao Hei's group vanished—their eye sockets sealed shut as if they'd never had eyes to begin with.

!

"My eyes!"

"I can't see!"

Screams echoed from afar, then quickly faded into gurgling sounds.

Xiao Hei's group had been swallowed by the water, vanished from the room.

A few seconds later, a faint red aura of resentment surfaced from the water.

Deep sighed, turned back, and resumed his work, muttering: "Too bad… why wasn't it him?"

"Who?" a voice replied.

Deep shook his head: "Not the players from the Four Organizations, not that new monster, Pinghe."

"I've merged with darkness—even if Pinghe appears, I'll sink him into darkness, trap him forever in this deep sea."

Wu Chang clapped his hands and replied: "Impressive. If you tell me how you merged with darkness, I'll help you bring Pinghe here."

Under the influence of Chaos Power, Deep's mind was chaotic—he thought he was muttering to himself, so he answered:

"It's Lin Jiang—he brought the seal that granted me the power of this instance, letting me tower over all, crushing those who destroyed the Light…"

When he mentioned the words "Light Society," Deep suddenly shuddered, his mind snapping back to clarity—he realized he wasn't speaking to himself.

He shouted into the darkness: "Who are you!"

Wu Chang walked toward Deep and said: "I am the peace you seek."

"You…"

Though Deep was frantically whispering about peace behind his back, facing this new monster who had humiliated the Light Society, he instinctively cowered.

But he quickly recovered, mentally hyping himself up.

"Don't be afraid—I've transformed into darkness, my stats now at forty percent of my normal level."

"My stats are four times his. He's no match for me—I'm the one who should be feared."

Wu Chang said nothing; Deep talked himself into a frenzy, then roared at Wu Chang:

"You're the one who should be afraid!"

This time, Wu Chang wasn't deprived of vision—he still fell into the black water below.

He floated on the surface, as if unable to exert any force.

Not far from him, Deep held his staff in one hand, his right hand gripping a knight's sword, his left hand—just regenerated, half a palm—clutching the staff, swimming swiftly toward him like a merman.

The next instant, Wu Chang's body swelled violently, transforming through his Body of Power into a two-hundred-meter sea giant.

"You can't cage a whale in a fishbowl. This is just a stagnant bay of corpses—how dare you call it an ocean?"

One of the small black figures drowning in the sea had a dirty braid—he was a rapper who'd just gone viral on a short-video platform and would soon make big money.

He refused to die like this; his immense resentment coalesced into a faint red aura before death.

Through the resentment of the dirty-braid man, Wu Chang saw the true depth of the water—and only then did he dare to act.

What seemed an endless ocean, he crushed under one foot—he reached down, seized Deep in his palm, and squeezed hard, snapping Deep's knight's sword, his staff, and his spine all at once.

Deep's restored forty percent stats were no match against Wu Chang, whose stats were only at thirty percent.

As Wu Chang gripped Deep, he also shattered the space known as Blind Abyss—feeling the space about to collapse, he pulled out the Golden Throne and yanked Deep into his Golden Realm.

Leaving Blind Abyss, Deep regained his sight—he stared at the two-hundred-meter sea giant before him, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Impossible. This can't be. How are you keeping your power inside the instance?"

"What did you do!"

"Illusion! All of it's illusion!"

Wu Chang sensed Deep was on the verge of mental collapse—he immediately retracted his Chaotic Authority, dipped his hand holding Deep back into the sea, swished it around, waited until Deep regained some clarity, then lifted his hand out.

"Calmed down yet?"

Deep, half-full of seawater and with his brain nearly shaken into mush, nodded frantically.

Wu Chang said: "I ask, you answer. If your answers satisfy me, I'll tell you why I can retain my power."

"Where did Lin Jiang and the others go?"

Deep said: "They did something wrong, feared the police would find out, and fled. They left me to destroy the evidence."

Wu Chang: "The corpse in your room? Who were they?"

Deep: "Colleagues and guests from the hotel—they angered Murphy. We couldn't stop them…"

Wu Chang pressed: "Who is Murphy?"

Knowing he was doomed, Deep now had no psychological burden—he spilled everything he knew.

His only obsession now: figuring out how Wu Chang retained his power.

Through Deep, Wu Chang roughly understood the composition of Lin Jiang's group, then asked:

"How did you control the monsters? How did you merge with them?"

Deep pushed back the hair covering his forehead, revealing a grotesque, raw-flesh-like swastika.

"Lin Jiang has a seal. He can control monsters through it—and through it, grant us their power, temporarily breaking the instance's lockdown."

Wu Chang asked curiously: "How did he know that?"

Deep shook his head. "I don't know. Probably the Light—no, someone else told him."

Deep clearly feared the three words "Light Society"—he'd avoided saying the full name twice in a row.

Wu Chang said: "Last question: What exactly are you trying to do?"

Deep answered urgently: "I don't know. It's all Lin Jiang's plan. He only told Murphy and one other lone-wolf Evolutionist."

"I've answered all your questions. Now you tell me—why can you retain your power inside the instance?"

Wu Chang looked at Deep, spine snapped, paralyzed in his palm, and said:

"The answer is: my current stats are already reduced. Don't glare at me—it won't change anything. The numbers are just set this way."

"Alright, we're even. It's time for you to go."

Wu Chang crushed Deep in his hand and absorbed the life force released by his death.

Strength +15.

Oh wow—no wonder, a monster with forty percent stats restored—definitely a great boost.

One gulp, and his strength surged to 107.

Even more surprising: after Deep's death, a bright red resentment remained in his palm.

【I don't believe it! I need to see Peace's stat panel!】

Wu Chang rubbed his nose. Alive, he gave me intel; dead, he boosted my strength—and now his obsession was giving me another reward.

You're so enthusiastic, you're making me embarrassed.

He didn't rush to check the resentment. First, he ended his Sea Giant transformation, then dissolved his Golden Realm.

Miles sensed a horde of small blacks charging toward him with guns, worried for his safety, and led his men into the building.

After dismantling the Golden Kingdom, he saw Bai Lao's members arriving at the door of Room 210, with Miles among them.

Miles was about to ask about Wu Chang's safety, but when he saw the scene before him, he was so shocked he couldn't speak.

The shattering of the Blind Abyss caused all the corpses that had sunk into it to burst out.

At this moment, in a basement less than five square meters, counting the group of little black ones who had come earlier, forty or fifty corpses were piled up.

These corpses were twisted into all sorts of bizarre postures, just to fill every corner of the room.

This scene made Miles think of the car compactor at the recycling station, and the compressed biscuits he liked to eat when camping.

The entire room, apart from the standing space at the doorway, had not a single inch of space left.

And his boss, Wu Chang, was standing on the last patch of open ground as if nothing were the matter, looking at the compressed corpse blocks with an easy expression.

Miles swallowed hard; among the compressed corpse blocks, he saw the group of little black ones who had previously meant his boss harm—they were embedded on the outermost layer, wedged in extremely firmly.

The compressed biscuits filling the whole room—were they handmade by the boss?

No wonder the boss wouldn't let him come along; turns out the boss has this kind of hobby.

Shit, did he just see something he shouldn't have?

"L-Lord, w-what should we…?" Miles's mind was a mess, as if he'd developed a stutter.

The underlings who had followed him had all witnessed this scene; things were getting hard to contain.

Wu Chang glanced at him. "What else can we do? Don't you see this massive crime scene? What are you standing there for? Call the police."

(End of Chapter)