Npc 84

“This... what exactly is going on?!”

Jian Hou sat on the sofa, staring at his friend in front of him with a mix of shock and disbelief.

The sunlight streamed through the sheer, lace-edged white curtains and clear glass windows, casting warm golden light onto the carpet by the sofa, making the entire apartment feel cozy and inviting.

Yet, the sight of the young man’s fair body entwined with slimy black tendrils oozing green mucus was completely at odds with the word “cozy.”

“I’d really like to know as well,” Jiang Yan said, looking down in disdain at the black tendrils—his ex-husband’s tentacles—clinging greedily to his body.

“I ran into him during the last instance,” Jiang Yan explained.

“You ran into him? What do you mean ‘ran into’ him?” Jian Hou pressed.

“When I met him, he was already like this.” Jiang Yan’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly as a glimmer passed through his blue eyes. “Then I discovered that the game was filled with specimens made from Yu Xiu’s data, but Yu Xiu himself was nowhere to be found.”

“What do you mean?” Jian Hou asked in confusion.

“I mean, whether it’s players or NPCs, none of them have Yu Xiu’s data—not even in the historical logs I checked. It’s possible Yu Xiu didn’t use his real name in the game, but when I found him, he was already in this state.”

As he spoke, Jiang Yan reached out toward his abdomen. Instantly, Yu Xiu’s tentacles coiled around his fingers, their suction cups latching onto his fingertips. The tentacle clung with a mix of dependence and ambiguity, leaving his fingertips red.

Jiang Yan furrowed his brows slightly and lightly flicked the tip of the tentacle. It trembled slightly, retracted its suction cups, and wrapped pitifully around his fingers, refusing to let go.

“I don’t know what state he’s in now, and I have no idea what he went through in the game,” Jiang Yan continued, watching the tentacle cling to his fingers with a petulant air. “What I find strange is, if this guy failed the game and got corrupted by it, he should have been permanently trapped in the game as part of an instance. There’s no reason he’d be able to escape with me.”

“Could it be that it wasn’t due to game failure?” Jian Hou speculated, studying the tentacle coiled around Jiang Yan’s hand.

“I’ve thought about that too,” Jiang Yan admitted, his dark lashes lowering slightly. “And that’s what worries me.”

“Worry you? If it’s not because of game failure, isn’t that better? What are you worried about?” Jian Hou asked, puzzled.

Hearing this, Jiang Yan’s lips twitched. He lifted the tentacle clinging to his hand and looked at his friend incredulously. “Yu Xiu, a nearly 1.9-meter-tall, fully skeletal, male human being, has turned into this. You tell me—does that sound fine to you?”

Jian Hou: “...So you’re not okay with this either? I thought you were handling it pretty well.”

“The one who seems to be handling it well is this guy.” Jiang Yan held up the tentacle hanging from his hand, looking exasperated.

Jian Hou: “...Fair point.”

“Since Yu Xiu seems to be taking it well...enjoying it even. What are you worried about?” Jian Hou asked. “That he might not be able to return to normal?”

Jiang Yan shook his head and replied, “What I’m worried about is… could he have made some sort of deal with the Main God, or the main system? Is that why he’s become like this?”

“A deal? What kind of deal? Isn’t the only transaction between players or real NPCs and the game about fulfilling wishes? Players and NPCs complete instances to earn points, which they use to exchange for corresponding wishes from the Master God. That’s what the game rules say, right? Isn’t that the transaction between players and the Master God?” Jian Hou asked.

Jiang Yan looked at the tentacle in his hand without saying a word. Jian Hou had a point.

Ordinary people’s “deals” with the main system are simply the game itself. In theory, there shouldn’t be any other kind of transaction.

But… how do you explain why Yu Xiu ended up like this?

“Could it be… this is Yu Xiu’s wish?” Jian Hou asked.

“Huh?” Jiang Yan was baffled.

“Players and real NPCs clear instances to earn points and exchange them for wishes. Yu Xiu is so smart; clearing instances shouldn’t have been a big problem for him,” Jian Hou said. Then he paused and added, “What if Yu Xiu’s current form is the result of the wish he exchanged his points for?”

Jiang Yan instinctively wanted to refute this. Who would willingly risk their life playing such a terrifying game just to wish to become some bizarre soft-bodied creature?

But then he thought about Yu Xiu… and somehow, it started to make a strange kind of sense.

Jiang Yan: “…”

Jian Hou sighed, clicked his tongue, and remarked, “If that’s really the case, I can only say… Yu Xiu truly is Yu Xiu!”

“But even so, it doesn’t add up,” Jiang Yan shook his head.

“How doesn’t it add up?” Jian Hou asked.

Jiang Yan explained, “If this really was Yu Xiu’s wish when he entered the game, and he fulfilled that wish to become this, then why didn’t he come home?”

Jian Hou froze slightly.

Jiang Yan continued, “And besides, he ended up breaking himself into pieces. The way he is now—it’s because I pieced him back together. In the last instance, all he had were his tentacles. In this one, I found his body—that pitch-black, slime-like Mountain God—that was Yu Xiu’s body.”

As he spoke, Jiang Yan lifted his shirt with one hand and pointed at the dark mass nestled among the tentacles clinging to his body. “This! It wasn’t here before—I found it in the last instance. And it’s obvious this still isn’t all of him.”

Jiang Yan raised his head to look at his friend and asked, confused, “So if this was his ultimate wish, why didn’t he come home after achieving it? Why scatter himself into pieces across the game?”

Jian Hou’s expression turned complicated as he stared at him. After a moment, he said softly, “Yan Yan, you’ve forgotten—you two are already divorced. This isn’t Yu Xiu’s home anymore.”

Hearing this, Jiang Yan froze on the spot.

Right. They were divorced.

This apartment wasn’t Yu Xiu’s home anymore… So it made sense for Yu Xiu not to come back.

“But… but…” Jiang Yan stammered, his thoughts tangling into knots.

“But then why did he shatter himself into pieces across the game, and why is he willing to come home with me now?” Jiang Yan asked.

It didn’t make sense! It just didn’t add up, did it?

If Yu Xiu didn’t want to come back because they were divorced, then why was he willing now?

Jiang Yan lifted his gaze toward his friend, his blue eyes glistening as though they were filled with unshed tears.

Jian Hou looked at his now-confused friend, whose composed expression had turned into one of bewilderment, and said in a heavy tone, “Is it possible that Yu Xiu didn’t return before because you two were divorced? Maybe he thought you didn’t love him anymore or didn’t want him, so he chose not to come back?”

“Then why is he willing to come back now?” Jiang Yan furrowed his brow.

Jian Hou couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he explained, “That’s obviously because he realized you were willing to take him back home!”

Seeing Jiang Yan still looking clueless, Jian Hou let out a helpless sigh.

He had always thought Jiang Yan was a very perceptive person, but at times, Jiang Yan could be unbelievably dense about certain things.

Like the time when he divorced Yu Xiu.

A month later, Jiang Yan came to him and asked, “Why hasn’t Yu Xiu come home yet?”

What else could it be? Of course, it was because you two are divorced!!

But it was also because Jiang Yan asked this question that they realized Yu Xiu had gone missing.

Even after reporting it to the police, there were no results.

Who would’ve thought Yu Xiu would show up in this game?

And who would’ve thought he and Jiang Yan would become entangled in it together?

Jian Hou seemed to have thought of something and said, “Could this be how your wish is being fulfilled?”

“What?” Jiang Yan snapped back to reality.

Just now, he had been absentmindedly staring at the tiny tentacle on his fingertip, lost in thought. Jian Hou’s question pulled him back to the present.

Jian Hou explained, “I’m saying, could it be that your wish was for Yu Xiu to come home? And as your points gradually increased, Yu Xiu also gradually came back, piece by piece?”

As he spoke, even Jian Hou couldn’t help but shudder.

Points gradually increasing, and Yu Xiu returning bit by bit… What kind of hellish joke was this?

But for his childhood friend and Yu Xiu, this kind of dark humor didn’t seem out of place at all.

“No,” Jiang Yan denied.

“Why not?” Jian Hou asked, “What if this really is how your wish is being granted?”

“Because I don’t have a wish,” Jiang Yan replied.

“Huh?” Jian Hou was confused.

“I don’t have a wish,” Jiang Yan repeated, looking at the tentacle writhing on his fingertip. “I have no idea why I inexplicably entered this game. Then… I encountered Yu Xiu and you in the game.”

“Oh! And in the last instance, I also ran into Li Yun,” Jiang Yan added.

Jian Hou was shocked. “Li Yun? That ex-boyfriend of yours? Wasn’t he—”

“Yes, he’s dead,” Jiang Yan replied, his tone flat. “He died in the game.”

Jian Hou was so stunned that he couldn’t speak for a long time.

After a while, he stammered, “So… so if you die in the game, you die for real?”

“Yes,” Jiang Yan said solemnly.

Jiang Yan released the tentacle in his hand, pulled his shirt back down, and looked at his friend. “That’s why I’m curious. Why are you in the game? What wish did you make?”

“I didn’t make any wish!” Jian Hou tugged at his hair in frustration and looked at Jiang Yan. “I told you this before in the instance, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Jiang Yan quickly denied.

“Didn’t I?” Jian Hou hesitated.

To be honest, he couldn’t quite remember anymore.

Jian Hou slumped on the sofa and explained, “Originally, I was teaching piano at Tao Shi’s house. Then, for some unknown reason, I suddenly ended up in the game and became a player.”

Jiang Yan frowned.

That shouldn’t have been possible!

He had assumed his own sudden appearance in the game was some kind of anomaly. So why was Jian Hou also in the game—and as a player, no less, in an even more dangerous position?

As he was lost in thought, a tingling pain spread from his waist and abdomen.

“…!”

“What’s wrong?” Jian Hou asked worriedly.

Jiang Yan, his face darkened, skillfully pulled out a tentacle from under his clothes and said, “Him! He keeps biting me.”

Jian Hou: “Listen, if you two want to play some R-rated tentacle game, I have no objections, but could you at least wait until I leave first?”

Jiang Yan: “…?”

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