Chapter 59: The Heart of Appreciating Talent (Seeking April Monthly Tickets)

After these two nights of exploration, Lu Mi found that the monsters outside the perimeter of the Dream Ruins were far fewer than he had imagined.

After eliminating the skinless monster, the shotgun monster, and the monster with black markings, he circled the area yet found no further hunting targets—only a few patches of flesh still twitching faintly.

Their only possible use was as food.

Lu Mi had long realized he didn’t need to eat within the dream.

Each time he entered, he felt fully energized, never hungry; after exploring or fighting for a while, as his spirituality drained and fatigue deepened, a faint sensation akin to hunger would arise—but it was negligible, requiring no extra energy replenishment.

When this hunger became hard to ignore, his spirituality and physical strength were usually spent entirely, leaving him utterly exhausted and in need of exiting the dream.

After eating and “resting” in reality, he would return here next time, unquestionably brimming with vitality, with no trace of hunger.

During his exploration, Lu Mi observed his surroundings while searching through the collapsed buildings, uncovering a few coins—but not many, totaling less than one gold louis.

The only items bearing writing were a few small blue books.

With no other option, Lu Mi attempted to venture deeper into the ruins.

He slowly advanced through the faint gray mist, the dim environment, and the crumbling or standing walls.

Suddenly, he spotted a set of shallow, strange footprints.

It was barely even footprints: the left one was normal, but the right one corresponded to a palm print.

Another monster? Lu Mi followed the prints silently, never forgetting to scan his surroundings, imagining the optimal combat scenarios for each environment.

Finally, he heard a faint sound, so he stopped advancing, circled halfway around, and climbed atop a collapsed building, using scattered, heavy stones to conceal his body.

Then, Lu Mi cautiously poked out part of his head, peering toward the source of the noise.

It was a barren stretch of ground, utterly clean and devoid of debris, where stood a creature whose humanity was questionable.

At first glance, it resembled a human; upon closer inspection, it was riddled with dissonance:

Two eyes were planted where the nose should be, above them a mouth, below them a pair of ears; the nose was embedded at the temple’s edge; one leg and one arm emerged from the shoulder region; below the waist, another leg and one arm appeared—its entire form seemed a chaotic patchwork of human parts.

This instantly explained to Lu Mi why the footprints had been so peculiar.

At this moment, the monster wore a brown short jacket and dark blue trousers—the common attire of Andes’s lower classes—barefoot and hatless, pacing back and forth across the wasteland.

Lu Mi didn’t rush to hunt; he patiently observed.

Soon, the monster raised its arm and assumed a pose: body arched backward, head touching the ground.

Excellent flexibility—perfect for dancing… Lu Mi sneered inwardly.

The moment he thought this, the monster began to dance.

Its movements alternated between forceful and rhythmic, graceful and fluid, bizarre and absurd—but all perfectly timed.

More importantly, it seemed boneless: its arms could bend backward behind its back, and the lower legs and arms could even intertwine.

As the prank king of Kedou Village, Lu Mi instantly thought of a fitting nickname for it:

Noodle Man!

Based on this discovery, he formulated a corresponding battle plan:

“Don’t assume dodging behind the target will avoid attacks—Noodle Man can attack equally well from front or back…

“Watch out for snake coiling…

“Not sure if it has vital points, but since it has a head, cut off the head first…”

As his thoughts raced, the monster’s dance grew more intense, occasionally extending one arm and one leg upward, leaping as if embracing the sky.

Lu Mi was almost infected—he longed to twist his body and jump along.

He couldn’t resist pulling up in his mind a melody his sister often played:

Dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum…

Suddenly, Lu Mi felt warmth in his left chest, and faint, nearly imperceptible whispers echoed at his ear.

This made his scalp prickle and his body tremble slightly, as if the next second he’d hear the terrifying voice that had driven him to the brink of losing control.

Uh… Lu Mi quickly used his free left hand to unbutton his leather jacket, then undid the buttons of his inner gray-white cotton shirt, lowering his gaze to his chest.

He saw the black thorn symbol locking his heart re-emerged, and the bluish-black symbol resembling eyes and insects slowly surfaced atop it.

Lu Mi froze, then a cascade of thoughts flooded his mind:

“I didn’t meditate, didn’t maintain that state for seconds…

“Did Noodle Man’s dance trigger this?

“Does his dance involve the mysterious, contain transcendent power?

“Good—the thorn symbol, when triggered this way, produces almost no sound; it won’t kill me or push me into total loss of control—just intermittent head pain, uncontrollable trembling, and a touch of mental confusion…”

Since becoming a “Hunter,” Lu Mi had never tried meditating within the dream to manifest his special ability, because he felt the risk had grown far greater than before.

Previously, near-death meant recovery was possible; now, in near-death, he’d almost certainly lose control—and that was irreversible!

Moreover, he suspected that hearing too much of that mysterious, terrifying voice—even if he survived and didn’t become a monster—would leave him with an incurable mental illness.

There were other ways; he wouldn’t risk it again.

Just two or three seconds later, Lu Mi ceased being startled by the thorn symbol’s activation via Noodle Man’s dance; instead, an indescribable joy welled up inside him.

He could fully endure this adverse state!

“So—is it possible that if I learn Noodle Man’s dance, I could perform it before hunting powerful monsters, triggering—well, partially triggering—my own dream special ability, then charge the stunned target and finish it quickly?”

“Even if the dance only partially activates my ‘special,’ it should still help—I don’t expect the target to surrender like the shotgun monster; just greatly weakening them would be enough…” Lu Mi’s thoughts surged; the more he watched the dancing Noodle Man, the more appealing it became.

What did it matter that the eyes were on the nose, the mouth high on the forehead, the arm serving as a leg? What was more beautiful than the mysterious dance?

In an instant, Lu Mi felt a strong “love for talent,” and found his justification:

“Aurora said talent shouldn’t be judged by a single standard—so why must it be human? Why not a monster?”

He decided not to hunt Noodle Man until he mastered its dance, coming each night to observe several times, striving to learn it as soon as possible.

Of course, he now intended to use it for an experiment first:

He wanted to test what effect his partially activated “special” would have on a monster!

Lu Mi swiftly decided—he didn’t button his clothes, left his left chest bare, circled around the cover, and leapt from the collapsed building onto the wasteland.

Noodle Man’s dance halted instantly.

It began to shiver.

It turned toward Lu Mi, crouched down, and pressed itself to the ground.

Lu Mi stopped, no longer approaching, maintaining a safe distance.

Noodle Man remained motionless.

Lu Mi gave a barely perceptible nod and murmured to himself:

“Even this low-level monster, faced with only partially activated ‘special,’ immediately surrenders and submits…

“I wonder how higher-level or extraordinary ones would react…

“One thing’s certain—the effect won’t be this strong…”

Lu Mi looked at Noodle Man and smiled:

“Come on, dance again.”

Noodle Man didn’t raise its head; it was unclear whether it understood Lu Mi’s words.

Seeing polite words failed, Lu Mi raised his voice:

“Quick! Dance for Grandpa again!”

Noodle Man trembled violently but stayed crouched.

Could the monster not understand human language? How to communicate with it? Lu Mi felt helpless.

He improvised, using the few Hermes words he’d just learned:

“I.

“Need…”

Lu Mi, unable to say more, began gesturing the dance motions with his body.

The monster didn’t even look at him, pressing its face tightly against the wasteland’s soil.

“Are you an idiot?” Lu Mi couldn’t help cursing.

He himself realized it was irrational—after all, every monster he’d met so far was stupid.

Even the most battle-smart shotgun monster had been outwitted by human intelligence!

At that moment, Lu Mi felt the warmth on his chest vanish.

He instinctively lowered his head and saw both the thorn symbol and the bluish-black symbol had disappeared.

Instantly, Lu Mi’s gaze snapped to Noodle Man.

Noodle Man had just lifted its head, its eyes—planted on the nose—staring at him.

One man, one monster, stared at each other, both frozen for a second.

Thud-thud-thud, Lu Mi spun around and bolted away.

Noodle Man leapt up and chased after him fiercely.

Lu Mi knew the surroundings well and ran faster than the limb-disorganized monster, easily shaking it off, circling back to the wasteland, and hiding again in his original spot.

He didn’t flee out of fear—he feared that if they truly fought, he might not hold back, and he didn’t know if another dancing Noodle Man could be found again in the Dream Ruins.

Before mastering that mysterious dance, he had no intention of killing this strange monster.

After waiting a long while, Lu Mi saw Noodle Man return to the area.

He nodded, murmuring silently:

“Indeed, monsters each have their own ‘territory,’ accustomed to moving in certain places or patrolling specific routes…

“It’s much like wild beasts…”

Next, Lu Mi patiently waited for the dance—whether it would come or not.

Nearly two hours passed, and his spiritual energy had drained considerably; he felt a growing hunger.

The “Noodle Man,” after a long rest, walked again to the center of the wasteland and raised his arms and legs.

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(End of chapter)