Evil God 3

God Descends 1

This was the second day after Chen Yu woke up.

Surrounding the plane wreckage was an endless expanse of white, fine sand; buried beneath the sand lay scattered fragments of bleached bones, upon which small white flowers bloomed.

As far as the eye could see, the landscape stretched for ten thousand li, resembling a tranquil resort.

Two days earlier, he had fallen from an altitude of ten thousand li, yet he hadn’t died in the crash; instead, he had arrived at this strange place.

The sky was gray and overcast, with no sun, yet everything was bright; he couldn’t tell where the light was coming from.

There was no wind, nor any sound.

Everything was eerily quiet.

He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious. After struggling to crawl out of the plane wreckage, he looked up to find the world had already transformed into what he saw before him.

“Do you know where this is?” a voice asked from behind him. It was the backpacker.

He’d just woken up from the wreckage; he had a scrape on his face, but it didn’t seem serious.

“I don’t know,” Chen Yu said.

The backpacker said his name was An Zhe.

Ever since he’d crawled out of the wreckage, the guy had been following him around like a shadow.

“What are we going to do now?”

“Wait for rescue.”

“Can you contact the outside world?”

Chen Yu shook his head.

He’d lost his cell phone long ago, but the twisted and bloody handle remained, which he was now clutching tightly in his hand.

An Zhe’s cell phone had survived, but unfortunately, he couldn’t make calls or send messages.

Yet An Zhe looked at Chen Yu with conviction: “You must have a way, right?”

Chen Yu was confused. “What could I possibly do?”

Seeing that Chen Yu wasn’t responding, An Zhe suddenly leaned in mysteriously: “You know, my childhood dream has always been to travel across the six continents and the seventy-two islands of the outer seas. I’ve also heard some rumors about the Twilight Ruins… You really don’t have to keep this from me.”

“What?”

“The Twilight Ruins!”

As if Chen Yu were deliberately playing dumb, An Zhe became excited: “They say there’s another dimension in this world. A place of complete disorder and chaos. There’s no day or night, no time, and not even rules like those in our real world.”

“Every so often, it overlaps with our reality. During that time, people can enter the Twilight Ruins, and things from inside might escape… They say that’s exactly why so many strange things happen during the Turbulence Period!”

“No one knows what the Twilight Ruins really are. Those who go in either die or go mad, but some have come out alive and gained powers beyond those of ordinary people. They call them ‘God-Eroded’!”

An Zhe grew more and more excited as he spoke. His eyes glowed with a greenish light as he looked at Chen Yu: “So, you’re one of those people too, right?”

Chen Yu thought carefully for a moment: “I don’t know if I am.”

“?”

“I haven’t gained the kind of superhuman powers you’re talking about,” he said with a wry smile. “I just suddenly got pregnant.”

“???”

Amid An Zhe’s confusion, Chen Yu offered no further explanation but instead looked down at the palm of his hand.

At that moment, a fist-sized, translucent cube was floating a few centimeters above his palm.

An Zhe seemed unable to see it.

When he tried to touch it with his mind, the strange cube immediately lit up, and different information appeared simultaneously on all four sides.

[Contamination Value: 481 (Contamination Value Level Not Yet Unlocked)]

[Traits: Evil God Host]

[Forum (Not Yet Unlocked)]

[Divine Realm]

This thing had appeared after he heard the mechanical prompt on the plane; with a single thought, he could summon it from the palm of his hand.

This must be what the mechanical voice referred to as “Cube Permissions.”

Chen Yu stared at it for a moment, then used his consciousness to touch the side labeled [Trait: Evil God Host], causing more information to appear.

[Trait: Evil God Host]

[Fragment of Authority: Reproduction (Fused)]

[Number Fused: 1]

(System Note: Congratulations on successfully establishing an umbilical connection with the unborn Chaos Evil God. From now on, you are one. Among the gods, you can represent him; among humans, he can represent you. But be careful. Never let the umbilical cord break! I bet you’d rather not know what happens if it does!)

After reading the message, the last shred of doubt in Chen Yu’s mind was completely dispelled.

That quack doctor had actually been right. He really was pregnant.

And he was carrying an evil god.

But for him, this was by no means a stroke of luck.

Chen Yu stared at his stomach expressionlessly.

I’ll have to get rid of this thing.

*

On the third day, a subtle change took place on the white, fine sand.

While no one was paying attention, the charred, blackened wreckage of the plane suddenly became overgrown with rust and moss, as if it had been lying there for thousands of years.

Then a middle-aged man crawled out of the wreckage.

He was wearing a white shirt and dress pants torn to shreds by mice. On his protruding belly was a long, life-threatening scratch, yet he seemed to feel nothing; he simply leaned back in a corner, his mouth making a constant smacking sound.

When Chen Yu asked if it hurt, he simply said he was a little hungry.

The wound made Chen Yu instinctively glance at his own shoulder.

Two holes, gnawed by the giant rat, were visible there. Ever since the crash, the edges of the wounds had solidified; they no longer bled or worsened, as if time had stopped.

He tried poking them with his finger. It didn’t hurt, just a dull, numb sensation.

An Zhe was startled: “What are you doing?”

But Chen Yu only frowned slightly: “You’re right. Something’s definitely off about this place.”

A few hours later, the small white flowers spreading across the bare bones suddenly bore fruit.

Bright red, tiny, and resembling strawberries, though plumper. They stood out so vividly against the grayish backdrop that they were almost blinding.

An Zhe was the first to notice the fruits; he immediately picked a handful and presented them to Chen Yu.

“Do you know what these are?”

“No.”

An Zhe seemed disappointed by this answer.

Soon, the middle-aged man also noticed the fruits, and his deep-seated hunger transformed his expression into one of greed.

He swallowed saliva, his lips quivering, then suddenly stood up and walked toward the fruits.

Soon after, the sound of munching could be heard from deep within the wreckage.

Chen Yu walked over and saw the middle-aged man cradling a pile of fruits in his arms, his face smeared with bright red juice.

“Do they taste good?”

The middle-aged man looked up and grinned at him. “They taste like strawberries.”

Bright red juice trickled down the corner of his mouth, as thick and sticky as blood.

Something was definitely wrong.

Chen Yu picked one up from the middle-aged man’s lap and examined it closely.

The fruit in his hand was bright red and plump, with distinct white seeds. If it hadn’t been growing on a set of bones, he would almost have thought it was a strawberry.

An Zhe suddenly felt a sense of foreboding: “…Are you interested in these fruits too?”

“I’m pondering a serious question.”

“What?”

“Do you think these fruits could induce an abortion?”

“……” An Zhe didn’t think so.

Once again, that look he gave to people he thought were mentally ill appeared on his face.

Fortunately, An Zhe had plenty of experience dealing with this kind of neurotic behavior, so he replied offhandedly, “If something looks like a strawberry, smells like a strawberry, and tastes like a strawberry, then it’s a strawberry… I don’t think there’d be any problem with eating it.”

Chen Yu looked at An Zhe skeptically, but after a moment, he suddenly nodded: “You’re right.”

Then, Chen Yu bit into the fruit without hesitation.

“How is it?” An Zhe stared at Chen Yu anxiously, terrified that he might sprout three heads and six arms at any moment.

“Not bad.”

Juice burst in his mouth, a subtle sweet-and-sour flavor that definitely tasted like strawberries.

But mixed in was an indescribable metallic aftertaste, like rust, or perhaps something else entirely.

Chen Yu savored the flavor for a moment, then stuffed the remaining half of the fruit into his mouth. He closed his eyes and began to sense the reaction in his stomach.

Something inside his stomach moved.

Immediately afterward, a warm, full sensation spread from his abdomen, as if it were clamoring for more.

Chen Yu’s expression suddenly darkened.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing.”

Chen Yu glared at his own little belly before looking away. He frowned as he stared at the palm of his hand.

What An Zhe didn’t know was that, at that very moment, a notification from the cube sounded once again above Chen Yu’s head.

[System: The Divine Realm has just updated with a new message. Do you wish to view it?]

[Yes/No]

*

The Divine Realm is one of the six sides of the cube.

Chen Yu had touched it with his consciousness before, but there had been no reaction; now, however, a red exclamation mark had appeared on the side of the Divine Realm.

The pulsating red color made him feel uneasy.

After sending An Zhe away, Chen Yu clicked to view it. The moment his consciousness entered, the world before him suddenly turned upside down.

A feeling of weightlessness suddenly overwhelmed him.

Chen Yu felt himself falling.

The scenery before him turned into a series of blurry silhouettes.

It wasn’t until the sensation of weightlessness faded and his buttocks touched a solid object that Chen Yu realized he was sitting at a long stone table.

It was a warm-toned room with a high dome painted in a dreamy blue; many eyes hung from it, blinking now and then like stars.

The room contained only an ancient long table, flanked on both sides by chairs as tall as stone steles. Their backs were engraved with dense inscriptions, and seated upon them were a variety of bizarre dolls.

There was a skeleton with only half a head remaining; a wooden puppet wrapped entirely in silk threads; a pot-bellied doll pieced together from scraps of cloth; a transparent hexadecagonal cube; and a blurry black human silhouette… The moment he sat on his seat, all these dolls turned to face Chen Yu, yet none of them made a single sound.

Those silent stares sent a chill down his spine.

Following their gaze, Chen Yu realized he had become a doll himself.

He was a blue cloth fish doll with a zipper on its belly, which was bulging as if it was stuffed with something.

He could sense that it was a small, black, formless entity.

He wanted to unzip it and pull the thing out to take a look, but then realized he had no hands. Instead, he stumbled and accidentally bumped into the tabletop.

The thing inside his belly, however, seemed delighted by this. As if it were taunting him, it began to swim happily through the layer of stuffing.

Chen Yu: …

But he wasn’t in the mood to get upset just yet.

It was only after that stumble that Chen Yu noticed the scene on the tabletop. The edge of the table was glowing white, and within that white light was a miniature world!

Inside, winds raged and clouds swirled. Everything changed in the blink of an eye.

Nothing could survive more than three breaths within it: storms and death would form a hurricane one second, only to be transformed by the merciless sunlight into a wondrous illusion the next; a forest of white bones would just emerge from the sand, only to be ground to dust in the blink of an eye, ultimately returning to a void of tranquility.

Occasionally, some things moved within it, though they could hardly be called living creatures.

Their bodies were made of jumbled white bones and debris; their limbs consisted of discarded metal scraps and withered vines; their noses and eyes were formed from dried, black liquid… In this realm of chaos, they coalesced in a completely illogical manner, becoming a single, active entity.

They appeared in large numbers, only to vanish in large numbers.

No one knew they ever existed; in this aimless cycle of activity and death, even existence itself lost its meaning.

At a fleeting glance, Chen Yu thought he glimpsed some familiar scenes.

White, fine sand; the wreckage of an airplane on the sand; small white flowers and red fruits growing from scattered, withered bones… But in an instant, the scene vanished amid the ever-shifting chaos.

No one had told Chen Yu what this was, but the moment his gaze fell upon the tabletop, he understood. This miniature world was the Twilight Ruins.

It was the very place he had been just moments ago!

If the miniature world on the table was the Twilight Ruins, then what was this room?

The Divine Realm?

An absurd conjecture suddenly crossed his mind.

“Could it be,” Chen Yu struggled to lift his head and looked at the strange dolls on the stone stele chairs, “that you are all deities?”

No one answered.

The dolls continued to stare at him. Their gazes contained neither goodwill nor malice. Only pure, almost indifferent scrutiny.

Just then, a line of text slowly materialized above the miniature landscape.

[System: The Divine Realm wager has begun. The second round of betting on the “Chaos Evil God” is currently underway: Will the Chaos Evil God successfully be born through a human womb?]

[Yes/No (Please place your bet within thirty minutes)]

The moment the bet details appeared, the dolls once again cast those silent gazes upon Chen Yu.

The oppressive gazes sent a jolt through his very soul.

But soon, Chen Yu understood the meaning behind those stares. It turned out that he was the actual stake on the table!

Rather than fear, the first emotion he felt was anger.

Like a wild beast suddenly captured and put on display in a circus, he chose to resist even before fully understanding his situation.

Chen Yu immediately selected [No] in the wager.

He would never let this thing be born!

However, the moment he placed his bet, the system prompt appeared once again.

[System: We sincerely apologize, but as you are the current stake, you are temporarily unable to participate in this round.]

“!!!”

Gurgle, gurgle.

At that moment, the thing inside Chen Yu’s belly began to wriggle once more with glee.

“#￥%&%￥!”

Before he even finished cursing, the next second, Chen Yu’s consciousness had already plunged back into reality.

Before his eyes were still white sand, bleached bones, and a gray sky.

“So this place really is the Twilight Ruins.”

As he looked at the unchanging scene before him, Chen Yu finally couldn’t help but curse aloud: “Fuck!”