Chapter 35: Deception

【Deception】

Cheng Shi opened his eyes and found he wasn’t on the rooftop.

His heart skipped a beat; his first thought was: Had he guessed wrong? Was Xu Lu telling the truth?

But when he realized he was floating amid the stars, above the constellations, that thought was instantly dismissed.

He had not been wrong.

His body had merely been relocated by some mysterious force.

He had heard other players mention this power during previous trials.

It was said that when the [Deity] favored one of His devotees, He would descend at the trial’s end in a form mortals could comprehend and summon them.

“Holy shit, this is real?”

Cheng Shi’s mind went numb, buzzing.

He had never imagined these bastards’ jokes were true.

Just as he held his breath, searching the brilliant starfield for his benefactor, a pair of enormous eyes—terrifying in scale—suddenly opened before him.

An indescribable pressure surged toward him, striking his soul and freezing him in place.

Compared to those pupils, black holes of darkness, Cheng Shi’s body was but a speck of dust in infinite space.

“Thump—”

“Thump—”

“Thump—”

Cheng Shi stared, heart pounding wildly.

He felt his heartbeat accelerate, syncing within a few breaths to the void’s rhythm beneath the stars, then gradually lost all sense of being “human.”

If he had to describe the feeling, it was like his soul had left his body.

Cheng Shi looked down in shock and saw his physical form still lying where he had stood, expression vacant.

His current self was transparent, drifting—like a spirit.

Only then did the overwhelming, inexplicable pressure begin to fade, and Cheng Shi slowly regained control of his awareness.

At that moment, from the eye before him—its sclera covered in spirals, its pupil scattered with starlight—came a voice, ancient and cold.

“Cheng, Shi.”

The voice differed from any sound he had ever known; hearing it felt like dissolving into nothingness.

He thought he should be trembling; he glanced down and confirmed it—his body was shaking.

Yet his spirit-form felt no fear, so he softly replied.

“Yes.”

But immediately, he felt it wasn’t enough.

No mortal could remain calm before the [Deities].

Even if someone could, it certainly wasn’t someone like Cheng Shi at his level.

So he added, groveling:

“Praise the Void, praise my Benefactor; to be summoned by you is an honor beyond measure.”

Survival isn’t shameful.

But the eye, which saw through all things, twitched slightly—and emitted a scoff.

“Weak mortal, you don’t even recognize your own Benefactor, yet dare to speak of praise.”

“!!!”

Not [Deception]!

Cheng Shi’s eyes flew wide with terror, then narrowed as his mind raced; he ventured a question.

“[Time]?”

Upon hearing the divine name, the eye spun like a clock, its voice growing colder:

“Uttering a god’s name falsely—condemned.”

The moment the words ended, Cheng Shi’s spirit dissolved into nothingness.

As if he had never existed.

His body shattered into dust, scattered by the stellar winds into the infinite abyss.

The colossal eye spun round and round until it sensed a shift in fate—and closed, “satisfied.”

As if it had never appeared.

Time began to flow.

It felt like a century, or just a second.

In the chaos of time, after who knew how long, the eyes opened again in the same place.

This time, however, the corners of the eyes curled slightly—clearly smiling.

“Oh dear, you’re not too late.”

The spiral-and-star-filled eye blinked, and with each blink, bright stardust appeared where Cheng Shi’s body had been.

The stardust drew together, fused, and coalesced.

When invisible forces reshaped them into a human form once more,

the clay figure born beneath the stars opened its eyes.

“Ugh—huh—”

Cheng Shi gasped for air, sweat drenching his forehead and back.

He stared at the eye before him, gritted his teeth, and forced out a single word:

“Fuck!”

The eyes paused, clearly startled—then laughed harder.

“According to my understanding of your human language, this word seems to express your desire to share the [Creation] authority with me?”

The eye spun twice, chuckling:

“Or perhaps you wish to drag me into the [Corruption] sea of desire, to do something unspeakable—no, something unseemly to [Gods]?”

Cheng Shi listened, stunned, and swallowed back the torrent of profanity on his tongue.

Whether in form or tone, this was clearly not the same entity as before.

His mind churned for a moment; he seemed to grasp something, his face darkening as he spoke lowly:

“You watched your devotee be killed by another [Deity]. As my Benefactor, may I ask—where is your protection?”

The eye beneath the stars spun again, laughing:

“So you’ve guessed my identity. But you’re wrong about one thing.

I did not see Him kill you.

I came with my eyes closed.”

“?”

Cheng Shi was stunned.

So his own shamelessness had a reason.

As the saying goes: if the top is crooked, the bottom will be too.

But!!!

Is that what I’m talking about right now???

Cheng Shi was speechless—but he now knew one thing.

At least this entity had responded, acknowledged itself as his Benefactor.

[Deception].

And the so-called “meeting between Deity and devotee” was far from the solemn, heavy atmosphere he’d imagined.

The first encounter didn’t count.

“So, could you tell your confused devotee what just happened? Who was that killer...?”

“Do you get familiar with everyone this quickly?”

“?”

Cheng Shi regained some human instincts and retorted:

“I’m socially anxious. I’m bad with people.”

“I can understand your emotions. So what?

Is it only because I saved you—and am your Benefactor—that you’re so...”

Let me think... the word should be:

“Reckless?”

Cheng Shi shook his head, rejecting [Deception]’s phrasing.

“It has nothing to do with that.”

“?”

“Because you’re not human.”

“Hahaha.”

Laughter rang through the stars; the eye, painted with spirals and starlight, laughed so hard it could no longer control its blinks, twisting and warping.

It regarded Cheng Shi with delight and abandon, as if admiring a priceless work of art.

"You are the second work that has satisfied me."

Cheng Shi raised an eyebrow, his expression calm, though the word "work" stirred unease within him.

"Who was the first lucky one?"

"A fascinating little girl named 'Zhen Xin'—in your slang, she is my [Divine Chosen]."

Cheng Shi’s pupils contracted.

The Gods know the [Divine Chosen].

Of course, the Gods should know everything.

Yet when a deity spoke to him directly, treating players like merchandise, Cheng Shi felt a strange unease.

"Oh? You seem to harbor anger over your identity as a player?"

Cheng Shi stopped joking. He shrugged, replying with a smug grin:

"Is it not allowed? Sorry, I can’t control it."

"All anger is merely self-deception. The more fragile a life tries to hide its helplessness, the angrier it becomes."

The eyeball scrutinized Cheng Shi’s thoughts and chuckled:

"Do you want to retaliate against Him?"