Chapter 338

Wu Chang originally thought that Hercules being discovered by the guards would trigger an ambush.

But it differed from his expectations—the three guards showed no intention to attack.

As he wondered whether the Misfortune Space ability had malfunctioned and still hadn't acted, a set of rules for using Misfortune Space surfaced in his mind.

In Misfortune Space, the Imaginary Monster's attack is divided into two phases.

The Performance Phase and the Combat Phase.

During the Performance Phase, the Imaginary Monster freely improvises, crafting scenes based on the target's psychological vulnerabilities to stage a performance of protective will versus true self.

In the Performance Phase, the Imaginary Monster inflicts no actual harm on the target, but instead expands the target's psychological vulnerabilities to strengthen itself.

When the psychological vulnerabilities can no longer expand, the Imaginary Monster ends the Performance Phase and directly inflicts harm on the target.

From the moment harm is inflicted, the Combat Phase officially begins—until one side dies.

The skill description lacked further specifics; Wu Chang needed to rely on Hercules, the first test subject of Misfortune Space, to uncover them.

Because once harm is inflicted, the target is jolted out of the Performance atmosphere, interrupting the Performance Phase.

Thus, as the ability's test subject, Wu Chang could not intervene during this phase—he could only observe from a god's-eye view.

He watched the storage room below, where Hercules, cornered by the three guards, appeared weak, pitiful, and helpless.

Having gained the Divine Nature of Imagination and completed most of the Twelve Trials, the man who once ruled the Realm of Reason now seemed to have regressed to childhood, returning to that night when his escape had failed.

He couldn't even muster the strength to resist, let alone stand upright.

The leader of the guards asked:

"Little mouse, escaping without permission is a serious offense. Do you know what consequences you'll face?"

Hercules gritted his teeth and said, "Death, that's all. Either way, if you keep torturing us, we won't live long."

The guard leader shook his index finger and said, "No, no, no—you're being too naive. This time is different. When you escaped, someone attacked the Saw Blade in the Body Modification Research Division, chopped off one of his hands and gouged out one of his eyes."

"Saw Blade always liked conducting strange experiments with scrap. Now that he's awake, he's vowed to dismember every escapee."

"Believe me, you won't want to enter Saw Blade's black shed."

Hercules shuddered, as if recalling some terrifying memory; the courage that had just flickered in his eyes vanished instantly.

The guard leader crouched down, patted Hercules' shoulder, and whispered:

"Take me to your companions. We'll pretend we never saw you. How about that?"

Trembling, Hercules heard this and felt as if granted amnesty—he immediately nodded and said:

"No problem! I know where they're hiding!"

"Then what are you waiting for? Lead the way."

Hercules walked ahead, guiding the three guards, who followed with sinister smiles. Hercules didn't notice that as he chose to betray his companions and cooperate with the guards, the three guards' bodies swelled slightly, and a fourth guard emerged from the darkness.

"Target attacked by Imaginary Monster. Will barrier cracked. Imaginary Monster attributes increased by 30%."

In the darkness, Wu Chang, observing from the god's-eye view, stared in shock.

Perfect—it had the same malice as Amber's inner demon in the Misfortune-Inflicted instance.

They weren't attacking the target directly; instead, they exploited the target's inner weaknesses to strike at the will barrier, growing stronger before striking.

He remembered Amber's state then—facing the Imaginary Monster, if you didn't resist fully from the first encounter, you'd sink deeper, your psychological vulnerabilities expanding until collapse.

Under the traitor's guidance, the five quickly found another escapee in a small stall of the water room.

The guard leader smiled warmly at Hercules and said:

"Good job. I knew you'd stand on the side of justice, helping us maintain order."

"These little mice keep escaping every few days, causing us trouble and dragging everyone else into punishment with them—they're nothing but rotten apples. To clear them out and restore a clean living space, you'll serve as our mole."

"Next time they plot another evil escape, sneak and tell me. I guarantee you'll never undergo another dangerous experiment again. How's that?"

Having already caved once, Hercules had no path back. Facing the guard leader's kind expression, he nodded.

"Excellent!" The guard leader clapped his shoulder approvingly, shoved the metal baton into his hand, then pointed at the newly captured experiment subject and whispered:

"Go kill him."

Hercules trembled. "Didn't I already agree to your terms?"

The guard leader kept smiling, speaking gently: "You have three seconds. If you don't kill him, I'll make him kill you."

"3…"

Boom!

As soon as the countdown began, Hercules swung the baton into his companion's skull. In the instant he killed his companion, his muscles shrank by half, and the fear in his eyes deepened.

"Target attacked by Imaginary Monster. Will barrier partially shattered. Imaginary Monster attributes increased by 30%. Target's all attributes reduced to 70% while in Misfortune Space."

Watching from the sidelines, Wu Chang sucked in a sharp breath. No wonder it was enhanced by an S-rank Book of Inspiration.

Before using it, he knew Misfortune's effect wasn't simple—but he hadn't expected it to be this absurdly complex.

Misfortune Space's effect had even inherited the Misfortune-Infested attribute suppression mechanism.

Had he misjudged the S-rank Book of Inspiration? Wasn't it too weak—but rather, his other abilities were too strong?

The shattering of the will barrier was like an avalanche—once begun, it could not be stopped.

As Hercules led the guards to capture more companions, his inner flaws widened.

Soon, the number of guards trailing behind him had grown to six—all broad-shouldered and muscular, each wielding batons resembling spiked clubs.

When the last escapee was captured, tonight's operation came to a close.

Just as the guards' friendly expressions twisted into sinister grins and their eyes turned murderous toward Hercules, he seemed to sense the danger and shouted:

"There's still one more person!"

"Another experiment subject named Ember. She's always been with us. I can't find her, but she always survives—I suspect she's being helped by someone inside the research facility!"

"I can help you uncover her. Believe me!"

As Hercules voluntarily pushed further, his will barrier neared total collapse—but he didn't expect that, upon hearing his offer, the guards showed no interest.

"The Seed is different from you rats; you don't need to worry about it."

These words shattered Hercules' defenses completely; a crisp cracking sound echoed throughout the Wasteland Realm.

"Target attacked by psychomorph monster; willpower barrier severely damaged; psychomorph monster attributes increased by 50%; target's all attributes reduced to 40% while in the Wasteland Realm."

The guards' attitude was not caused by Wu Chang's covert manipulation.

The psychomorph monsters of the Wasteland Realm are identical to Amber's inner demon mechanism—both are monsters formed from the target's personal experiences.

The fact that this statement provoked such a strong reaction from Hercules proves that its meaning—that Amber is different from ordinary rats—is his deepest inner demon.

This matter weighed far more heavily on him than his past betrayal of his comrades, acting as a mole to leak information.

Wu Chang, watching secretly, suddenly understood: no wonder, in the secret research facility, every escape attempt failed—yet Amber always survived.

Part of it was due to her abilities, part to Amanda's management, but the more important reason was the secret research facility's deliberate neglect.

They were using this method to plant a demon within Amber, to facilitate future control—or some other purpose.

Wu Chang shook his head, pulled his thoughts back, and turned his attention once more to the Wasteland Realm.

With Hercules' willpower barrier severely damaged and his deepest vulnerability exposed by the psychomorph monsters, the performance had reached its end.

The overture was over; it was time for the bloody, flesh-and-blood combat phase.

Before Hercules could think of anything more valuable than reporting the Seed, the guard captain swung his spiked club upward and smashed it hard into his chin.

Hercules' slender body flew upward, spewing a mouthful of blood mixed with his front teeth.

Damage from psychomorph monsters strikes directly at the soul; even his lion-skin armor could not grant immunity.

From the moment he was struck, Hercules' body reverted from a child to a grown, muscular man.

He clutched his chin, his voice muffled: "Why? I've said everything I should."

The guard captain swung his spiked club and grinned:

"No why. I just think you're useless. Time to end this."

As the guard captain attacked, Hercules stepped out of the performance's atmosphere; after a brief daze, he snapped back to awareness.

Regaining consciousness, Hercules recalled everything that had just happened; blood surged, and he instantly entered a stacked state of Blood Rage and Crimson Fury.

"You're all dead! And that brat from the Wasteland Realm too!"

He pulled a sword and shield from his personal space, leaped forward, and charged straight at the guard captain.

During the performance phase, the psychomorph monsters' attributes had increased by over 150%, but it still wasn't enough against the enraged Hercules.

Hercules blocked the guard captain's spiked club with his shield, then shoved the shield forward, driving the club into the guard captain's face.

As the guard captain screamed in pain, Hercules spun his sword and drove it straight down along the base of the guard captain's neck, burying it to the hilt.

Then he twisted hard, severing the guard captain's head.

Holding the guard captain's head in his shielded hand, he roared aloud, as if venting all his prior frustration and fear.

Normally, if he slaughtered the leader with such brutal ferocity, the other targets would be terrified, hesitate, or flee outright.

But psychomorph monsters didn't care—they didn't care about atmosphere.

As Hercules let out a thunderous roar, four or five spiked clubs slammed into his head and chest.

He normally wouldn't have cared about ordinary iron arms, but when the clubs struck, he sensed something wrong—the soul-shaking vibration made his skull ring.

Hercules' roar was cut short mid-shout by the relentless blows.

He held his shield above his head, swung his sword in all directions, and, using the guards' momentary retreat, scrambled out of the encirclement.

It wasn't an illusion—the guards were strange. Their strength was clearly low, yet their attacks pierced his lion-skin armor and injured him.

Beyond the guards, the space itself was strange—it could suppress his attributes.

The power he could now wield was less than half his peak strength; after that barrage, he'd lost a quarter of his life.

Where did that brat from the Wasteland Realm get this bizarre ability?

With the lesson learned, Hercules was far more cautious now. He refused to take direct damage, instead advancing slowly, avoiding encirclement, and methodically grinding down the guards.

Who was he? The Hero of the Twelve Labors, possessing near-infinite endurance.

As long as he held his ground, avoided damage, and waited for openings to counterattack, he could not lose to these guards.

The battle resumed; Hercules, adopting a turtle tactic, shifted entirely to defense.

He blocked every attack with his shield, then, when guards froze after striking, slashed out from behind it.

After countering, he never overextended—he immediately retreated behind his shield, ensuring no opening for the guards.

If things continued like this, Hercules' victory was merely a matter of time.

But as expected, an unexpected twist was coming.

The guards surged forward, swinging their spiked clubs—this had happened many times before. Hercules used his superior skill, spinning his shield into an impenetrable wall, blocking every attack.

His eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for which guard had failed to retract his swing, so he could strike.

But this time, something was different—he noticed one guard didn't swing his club; instead, he drove his elbow forward.

"Man!"

He raised his shield to block—but the elbow pressed against the shield like a drop of water sliding along its curve, slipping through an impossible angle to strike his face.

His vision went black; though the attack didn't injure him, the abnormal status it carried temporarily robbed him of control over his body.

Next, he saw multiple spiked clubs hammering down toward him.

"Target attacked by psychomorph monster; soul severely damaged; target's all attributes reduced to 30% while in the Wasteland Realm."

If this continued, the psychomorph guard monsters would beat Hercules into a pulp.

But Wu Chang didn't let them continue—he ordered them to stand down, then stepped before Hercules and mimicked the guard captain's tone:

"One question. Answer it, and I won't let them hit you."

"Are you an experiment subject of the secret research facility, a Deep Abyss Game player, or both?"

Hercules couldn't be sure Wu Chang would keep his word, but he still caved and answered:

"I am a player of the Wasteland Realm, not an experimental subject."

Wu Chang asked curiously: "Then why did the mental flaw of Experimental Subject 46 appear on you? Could Imaginary Divinity inherit the memories of the subjects it gave birth to?"

Hercules's face showed shock and doubt—he hadn't expected a player from the Wasteland Realm to know of Imaginary Divinity.

Seeing he could no longer hide it, he hesitated for a moment, then answered:

"You can understand it this way: the method of extracting Imaginary Divinity is not to drain divinity from the subjects, but to make the divinity within them go berserk, devouring the subjects' existence through their mental flaws, using their flesh and blood as nourishment to form the Fruit of Divinity."

"When we consume the Fruit of Divinity, we also consume the entire subject—they merge with us along with the divinity. Their memories become our memories."

Wu Chang clicked his tongue upon hearing this; when he first learned how Imaginary Divinity was made, he'd thought it was sinister.

If divinity could be extracted so easily, why raise the subjects like fighting insects, why subject them to high pressure and terror, deliberately creating mental flaws?

Wouldn't a gentler method make the divinity mature more easily?

Now it was clear—all this was done so that when the divinity went berserk, it could use the mental flaws to devour the subjects.

But then again, if divinity were truly easy to seize, it wouldn't be worth anything.

Hercules looked at Wu Chang and said:

"I've answered your questions. Now it's your turn to keep your promise."

Wu Chang shrugged and said:

"Don't worry—I never break a promise I've made."

Hercules exhaled deeply, but then his brow furrowed; the relief he'd just felt suddenly returned.

He Ping—why did that name sound so familiar?

Wasn't the new Wasteland Realm monster who humiliated Master Huanxi called exactly that?

Before Hercules could react, Wu Chang asked:

"Is your Strength stat over five hundred?"

Hercules answered instinctively: "No, just a bit short."

Wu Chang glanced at his stat panel and smiled: "That's perfect."

His Strength stat while activated in Sea Giant form was 163.

Since Hercules's Strength stat was under five hundred, under the Wasteland Realm's stat suppression, his Strength would not exceed 150 points.

Wu Chang adjusted Hercules's Lionhide Armor and said:

"Since I kept my promise, answer me one question: Did Subject 46 really intend to betray the Seed?"

Hercules didn't know why Wu Chang asked this, but the question was harmless, so he answered: "Yes."

Wu Chang pressed: "Jealousy?"

Hercules: "Yes."

Wu Chang said: "Too bad—he's already dead. Then you'll take his place and eat my punch."

Hercules:?

Before Hercules could protest, Wu Chang punched him in the face.

The Lionhide Armor could block all non-divine damage, but it had one weakness: if the attacker's Strength exceeded the wearer's, the damage bypassed all defenses and doubled.

Hercules's remaining HP was already low; Wu Chang's punch, bypassing defenses and activating the Profane One effect, shattered his skull outright.

As Hercules's corpse fell to the ground, Wu Chang deactivated the Wasteland Realm and returned to the Reason Realm.

In the Reason Realm, Xu Dejun gripped his blade with both hands, anxiously waiting for Wu Chang.

He didn't know how Wu Chang had temporarily taken away Hercules, nor whether Wu Chang would return—but he couldn't leave. He had to wait here.

Because only Wu Chang could traverse between the Wasteland Realm and the Reason Realm, and only he could deliver that message back.

As he waited anxiously, the black mist reappeared—Wu Chang returned, carrying Hercules's headless corpse.

"The trouble is settled. Tell me now—what exactly is this information you insisted on giving me?"

(End of Chapter)