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Bonus chapter! Thank you to --- for the donation! ^^
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The black mist spread through the air, plunging the entire cruise ship into darkness as if even light itself had been devoured.
A terrifying aura radiated from above, sending involuntary shivers down everyone’s spines.
All eyes were drawn upward, fixed unblinkingly on the distant figure.
At the center of the summoning array, a faint silhouette hovered mid-air—clearly the source of the overwhelming dread that gripped them.
As the mist gradually dissipated, the figure grew clearer. The moment the onlookers caught sight of it, their eyes widened in shock.
There, suspended within the array, was a young man with his eyes closed.
Yet even without his gaze, his beauty was undeniable—features so exquisite they seemed painted by a divine hand. He looked like a soul-stealing enchantress one moment, a fallen deity the next.
Less an Evil God, more a celestial being descended from the heavens.
His mere presence eclipsed the world around him, rendering everything else dull and insignificant. No one could look away.
But none dared underestimate him.
Clad in a dark crimson robe edged with black silk, its fabric woven with strange, twisting floral patterns, the young man’s raven hair floated as if stirred by an unfelt wind. The effect was mesmerizing yet unnerving, stirring both awe and primal fear.
A single glance was enough to know: he was terrifying.
Terrifying enough to crush any thought of resistance. Terrifying enough to make knees buckle in worship. Terrifying enough to freeze the blood in one’s veins.
Was this… the Evil God?
The third floor fell deathly silent. Even the monsters stood motionless. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the young man’s long lashes quivered almost imperceptibly.
A tiny movement—yet every witness caught it, holding their breaths, afraid to blink.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
His gaze, as devastatingly beautiful as anticipated, held a pitiless indifference toward all existence. Cold. Unfeeling.
He looked down upon the figures below like insects beneath his notice.
The world reflected in his eyes meant nothing more than that—a reflection.
This was the Evil God.
Lin Zhiyan stared at the figure, stunned, his hand unconsciously pressing against his chest as his heart pounded erratically—so violently it threatened to break free. A strange, overwhelming emotion surged within him, wild and uncontainable.
Even his fingertips trembled with numbness.
The lead staff member was no exception. His entire body felt as though countless ants were crawling beneath his skin, an inexplicable palpitation gripping him—so intense it made him want to crush his own heart.
Even if it meant dying the next second. Even if it meant being drenched in blood.
Every staff member felt the same. Even the players couldn’t escape it.
In this moment, none of them even wanted to escape.
One staff member dropped to his knees willingly, eyes brimming with fanaticism and obsession. "We welcome the descent of the Evil God!"
The others snapped to awareness, immediately prostrating themselves. Even Lin Zhiyan and the lead staff member knelt on one knee, postures of absolute submission.
"WE WELCOME THE DESCENT OF THE EVIL GOD!!!"
Their voices roared in unison, trembling with unrestrained excitement, echoing through the entire third deck. The fervor in their cries was electrifying—a storm of devotion no tempest could extinguish.
Yet what emerged from the array was not what they expected.
The figure at the center was not the Evil God, but Ruan Qing—a boy desperately maintaining his disguise. In his mind, the System’s voice rang out, its usual composure shattered:
[You used the Demon’s Eye!!?]
The apocalyptic dread and oppressive aura didn’t come from him, but from the S-rank item: the Demon’s Eye.
A relic of the Evil God itself, it radiated the deity’s essence and power—indistinguishable from the real thing.
The moment Ruan Qing learned of the Demon’s Eye’s effects, a reckless plan had taken root:
If they couldn’t see through the truth… why not become the Evil God?
If the cultists believed their god had descended, they’d abandon the ritual. No true summoning. No facing an actual deity.
All he had to do was deceive them, and the dungeon would be cleared.
A scheme so audacious most wouldn’t dare conceive it—after all, fooling monsters while impersonating their god bordered on insanity.
But Ruan Qing had seen this dungeon’s Evil God before.
Unless he was mistaken, the figure slumbering in the depths of the ocean from the first dungeon, <Horror Live Stream>, was the Evil God. Combined with the Demon’s Eye’s black mist, impersonating the deity wasn’t impossible—after all, no one had ever truly seen the real Evil God.
Before Ruan Qing could respond, the System spoke again, its voice laced with barely restrained fury:
[How dare you use the Demon’s Eye?]
Ruan Qing paused, then lowered his gaze indifferently. 'Why? Is it forbidden?'
[Of course it is.] The System’s reply was swift, its tone icy. [Do you even realize what the Demon’s Eye—]
Abruptly, its voice cut off, as though the connection had been severed.
The sudden silence made Ruan Qing’s heart stutter. He called out cautiously in his mind: '…System?'
No response. The System had vanished without a trace.
This wasn’t entirely unprecedented—there were moments when the System went silent, usually when a dungeon’s so-called "deity" appeared.
But the Evil God hadn’t been summoned here. The ritual array hadn’t even been activated yet.
Was it because of the Demon’s Eye?
Could it block even the System’s surveillance?
Distracted by maintaining his disguise and the System’s disappearance, Ruan Qing failed to notice the exact moment a figure within the array opened their eyes.
That figure was Qi Lintian—the man the other players had labeled a monster.
Now, however, "Qi Lintian’s" eyes were fathomless: an abyss like the deepest ocean, yet utterly void. It was the indifference of one who regarded all existence as insignificant.
The summoning array was incomplete. The ritual hadn’t begun, let alone succeeded.
And yet—the Evil God had been summoned.
Ruan Qing remained unaware.
Noticing his bound state, "Qi Lintian’s" gaze flickered with displeasure. An even more terrifying aura surged forth, and the vanished black mist began to spread anew.
Where the mist touched, everything dissolved without a sound. The ropes binding him vanished. Nearby blood and corpses disappeared. Even light itself seemed to be devoured.
The mist continued its relentless expansion, carrying an annihilating force that threatened to erase all existence—
Until, in the next second, it froze.
"Qi Lintian" stared blankly at the boy floating above him, his pupils frozen, unmoving.
The voices around him echoed—"We welcome the descent of the Evil God!"
"Qi Lintian" glanced to the side, taking in the direction of the crowd’s worship and their awestruck gazes. In an instant, he understood.
The… Evil God?
His eyes returned to the boy suspended midair. A faint, almost imperceptible laugh escaped him.
This was the first time he had seen someone dare to impersonate the Evil God.
Did they truly believe he would never awaken?
By all rights, he should have been furious—what audacity, for a lowly ant to masquerade as him.
Yet, inexplicably, no anger came.
Fragments of memories flickered through his mind. His fingers unconsciously brushed against his own lips, as if chasing a lingering warmth—one that sent an unwitting tremor through him.
It was a sensation that… almost made him feel human.
This body was his, yet not. "Qi Lintian" could easily access its memories and senses, and he knew exactly what had transpired between this vessel and the boy.
He stared numbly at his fingertips. Then, with a slow exhale, he shut his eyes—and let his body slump back into its earlier bound posture.
None in the livestream noticed.
The audience’s reaction mirrored the frenzied staff: delayed, then explosive. Screams flooded the chat—
[HOLY SHIT!!! AAAAAH WIFEY’S SO HOT!! WIFEY PLEASE STEP ON ME—]
[I USED TO CALL THESE CULTISTS BRAINDEAD—"SUMMON THE EVIL GOD? DUMBASSES!" WELL, JOKE’S ON ME! IF THIS IS THE EVIL GOD, SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!]
[DEAR GOD?? HOW IS HE LEGAL?! MY KNEES JUST DISINTEGRATED—WHOEVER CAN STILL STAND IS A LIAR!!]
[Nah, fr. If the Evil God exists, he’d 100% look like wifey rn. This is illegal levels of seductive—]
Meanwhile, the sudden silence of his System left Ruan Qing tense. His fingers curled subtly at his sides, but there was no time to dwell on its disappearance.
There was no turning back now.
With an air of detached supremacy, he gazed down at the prostrate crowd below. Then—ever so languidly—he lifted a hand.
His slender, pale fingers twitched.
Ruan Qing had only meant to make them stand up—but before he could speak, the black mist shifted with his movement, unleashing a force capable of annihilating all existence.
In the next second, the space around him seemed to splinter apart, disintegrating into ash without a sound.
Even the nearby staff members were not spared. In the span of a blink, the only one left beside him was Qi Lintian, still lying motionless on the ground.
Ruan Qing’s hand froze mid-air, his beautiful eyes wide with shock.
What just happened?
Was it the Demon’s Eye? Is this why the system warned him against using it?
No one noticed the subtle flicker in "Qi Lintian’s" gaze as Ruan Qing raised his hand.
The black mist drifted like gauze through the air, carrying an aura of dread.
The kneeling staff member trembled violently as he met the young man’s cold, indifferent eyes. His lips quivered, but no sound escaped—not out of fear, but sheer exhilaration.
The others shared the same frenzied excitement. There was no grief for their fallen comrades, no terror—only an even more fanatical devotion as they stared at Ruan Qing.
It was a devotion so intense it turned the blood cold.
Even Ruan Qing felt his instincts scream at him to run, but he couldn’t. Instead, he remained aloft, his expression chillingly detached.
