Chapter 17: Chat Channel: Regions, Beliefs, and Professions

Chat Channel: Regions, Beliefs, and Professions

Every time a special trial ended, Cheng Shi would linger in the chat channel to gather information.

Among the messy, fragmented messages, most were meaningless venting and complaints; only a few valuable bits were worth a glance.

Whether he remembered what he read depended entirely on his mood.

He first opened the regional chat, which covered players in nearby neighborhoods—yesterday there were over 7,600 online, now only 6,400 remained.

The chat displayed only content, not IDs, so no one knew if the speakers were human or ghost.

“The [Deity] has punished the atheists again; a new divine realm is slowly forming, brothers and sisters, join the divine realm and share the divine grace!”

“Feel the grace, embrace the greatness!”

“Everything is the benefactor’s charity; we survivors must be grateful! Thank my lord, thank all the gods!”

These insane remarks were typical of the “Descent Faction”; Cheng Shi usually skipped them outright.

But from the tone and attitude, they weren’t his neighbor across the way.

“Fuck, ten billion dead and the world’s about to collapse—if the [Gods] want to save it, why kill so many? Gratitude? Gratitude your fucking idiot mother.”

“Pleasure Night advertisement: 142 Nanjiang Road, Lemon Apartment, entire second floor, seven zones opened up, massive area, 14 participants already—friends who want to experience the thrill of survival after disaster, join us now! PS: Those obsessed with faith opposition, don’t enter; no [Birth] believers accepted.”

“Did the [Birth] faction eat your rice?”

“Guy upstairs, you can just give birth to one yourself—no need to rent space...”

“1301, 7 Nanjiang Road, girl alone, scared.”

“Don’t believe it, 1301’s right above me—she’s been banging on the walls all day, she’s a lunatic!”

“Need medicine: A-rank or higher healing potion, willing to trade for a profession weapon trial, urgent, thanks.”

Though many had died, the chat channel remained as chaotic as ever.

Cheng Shi only noticed the plea for medicine, but since the faith game had no private messaging, he could only type on public screen:

“Who’s asking for medicine? Nanjiang Road or Mulu Road?”

A flood of chat instantly buried Cheng Shi’s message, yet he still spotted the reply.

“Mulu Road, high floor.”

Cheng Shi raised an eyebrow—he lived on Mulu Road, on the top floor.

“Huh, could it really be the neighbor across?”

Remembering the neighbor’s blood-soaked appearance, Cheng Shi walked to the rooftop edge and shouted across:

“Hey, you the one asking for medicine?”

A filthy head poked out from the opposite tent, brows knotted with suspicion; after hesitation, the voice replied:

“Bro, how’d you know it was me?”

Of course!

Cheng Shi smiled faintly: “Guessed it. I’ve got A-rank ‘Days of Prosperity.’ How about it?”

The Xie guy clearly knew his stuff—he stared at Cheng Shi, eyes wide, then spoke seriously:

“You got 2,000 points?”

In his mind, players under 2,000 points wouldn’t dare trade such medicine away.

Cheng Shi didn’t want to part with it either—but he was intrigued by the guy’s offer to run a trial for him; he currently lacked a useful item.

That item was crucial for his next trial.

Most importantly, he still had enough ‘Days of Prosperity’ left.

“Nope, just happened to pick it up during a trial.”

“...”

Looking at the 93 vials in his inventory, Cheng Shi recalled the fun times he’d had during a trial matching with “that guy.”

In that [Prosperity] trial to protect the pharmacy owner, they’d killed the owner early and looted the shop, avoiding the terrible outcome of letting the owner fall into enemy hands—illegally and unreasonably ending the trial.

As a result, each teammate lost 20 points on the ladder.

But each got 120 vials of ‘Days of Prosperity.’

Huh, minor loss.

“What do you want? Need a weapon?” the Xie guy asked, confused and awkwardly added, “I’m under 2,000 points—I probably can’t get the weapon you want, max A-rank.”

Cheng Shi was puzzled: running a weapon trial, especially for an A-rank weapon, was extremely dangerous. If he was injured, why not rest and heal instead of torturing himself?

Even if the medicine healed him, wouldn’t he just get hurt again after the trial?

Did he have some way to avoid injury during trials?

“You don’t look badly hurt—why the rush?”

The Xie guy pressed his lips slightly, voice tinged with sorrow:

“It’s Xu Lu. She’s dying.”

“Who?”

Cheng Shi racked his brain, then remembered—the girl living downstairs in the distant Youjian Apartment, on the opposite side of his building, whom he’d never met but heard about through distant chatter.

Supposedly, a singer with a squeaky voice.

“You two...”

“She just agreed to be with me... I can’t just leave her.”

Holy shit, love makes you blind, bro.

Cheng Shi saw the guy wasn’t lying—he was sincere—but the problem was, the girl across definitely wasn’t.

If her injuries were serious enough to need an A-rank potion to survive, she’d be dead by now—no way she’d still be posting in the chat.

Cheng Shi hesitated, then decided to warn him.

The guy seemed grateful, yet still insisted on getting the medicine.

“Thank you. I know how to judge a person’s character—I can tell you’re not a cultist of some demonic deity.”

“...”

“Fine, no need to hide it—she’s a ‘Seer.’ She foresaw the danger of her next trial and wants to prepare in advance.”

Cheng Shi froze, blinking in stunned disbelief.

A Seer. The Singer of [Fate].

No wonder she was so sneaky.

Seeing he wouldn’t be dissuaded, Cheng Shi tossed the potion over.

The guy caught it, utterly stunned.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll steal your medicine?”

Cheng Shi shrugged: “I’d actually hope you do.”

The Xie guy shuddered, gripping the vial tightly, and solemnly promised:

“Thank you! I’ll deliver the medicine first, then come back to hear what weapon you need—I’ll bring it back for you! My name is Xie Yang!”

He bowed deeply.

Kinda cringe.

Just as Cheng Shi was thinking how to reply, Xie Yang’s next move left him speechless.

He dashed to the other side of the rooftop, hooked the potion onto a fishing rod, and lowered it on a line...

“Wait... she agreed to be with you, but didn’t open a shared-space trial?”

Xie Yang turned, earnestly explaining: “LuLu’s sensitive inside. She’s not ready to fully open up to me yet. But it’s fine—I can wait.”

“...”

Holy hell, I thought you were a spirited guy—turns out you’re a crazy one. You actually believe this?

Huh.

Fate really is a bitch.

Watching Xie the dog lean over the rooftop to pass medicine down, Cheng Shi spat, then turned and opened other channels to search for useful info.

[Belief Channel]

“Made a new potion: Dragon Penis Powder—boosts warriors’ three stats, makes frontliners fierce and vigorous. Great stuff, pity I can’t sell it to you. What a shame.”

“Saw a girl in a trial—gorgeous. Asked her belief—she’s [Memory]. Can recount her ex-boyfriend’s every move down to the second. Boring.”

“Our regional chat is full of wailing—is this trial really that hard? I tricked the NPC so badly even her mom wouldn’t recognize her—easy clear.”

“Laughable. Don’t fool us—don’t fool yourself either.”

“Didn’t you notice the masks in your hands are grinning wider? Doesn’t the more people who die, the wider the masks smile?”

“Don’t know that, but I know [Fate]’s dice seem to be gaining more faces—today I met a 20-sided one. Holy shit, probably a [Fate] Chosen.”

Cheng Shi frowned, looking at the dice in his hand.

The bone-white dice still had six faces—unchanged.

But the strangest part: [Deception]’s relic was clearly a fake-smile mask—so what the hell was this dice?

He really wanted to ask who else’s mask had turned into dice—but he dared not.

The lab mouse always died first—he firmly believed that.

Whatever. One step at a time.

The belief channel was all lies; only the profession channel was worth checking.

As soon as he switched over, he saw a question:

“Ask the masters: Has anyone seen the A-rank potion ‘Scorn of the Dead’?”

Cheng Shi blinked slightly, then burst into laughter.

So this is the flat-chested Nangong miss, huh.

What’s that thing? What effect does it have?

Sounds like a [Death] potion. What’s it for? Keeping someone alive?

So far, 1,843 A-grade potions have been recorded. I’ve never seen this one. How many tiers did it drop from?

Holy shit, bro, you remember that clearly? Are you a [Memory] master?

No, I matched two generator and computer trials—recording items became way easier, and I can even connect to a chatroom via computer. The interface is ancient, though; it takes time to get used to.

...... Really?

It’s definitely for keeping someone alive. I don’t know if the master who saved us is around. I owe him my life and haven’t repaid the favor yet. I’m wondering what level of potion would be equivalent.

A-grade potions vary in value, and Nangong clearly remembers Cheng Shi’s kindness.

Cheng Shi was about to reply, “Fate brought us together,” when a message flashed across the chat channel.

I saw [The Disdain of the Dead] once before. I searched for a whole month and never found it again. Where did you see it? Is it in the hands of someone surnamed Cheng?

Cold sweat broke out on Cheng Shi’s forehead. He muttered silently: Get away.

Fortunately, the chat channel was flooded with messages. This one vanished like a grain of sand in the ocean.

After watching for a long time with no follow-up, Cheng Shi exhaled slowly in relief.

If you walk by the river often, you’ll eventually get your shoes wet. I’ll have to rename this potion from now on.

As he kept diligently reading the chat, in a spacious apartment in another city, a woman lying in her bathtub subtly clenched her wine glass.

The Disdain of the Dead? The Dislike of the Dead?

Cheng, how many more things do you have that I don’t know about?

Are you by any chance a follower of Him?

I’ll remember you.