***
Bonus chapter! Thank you to --- for the donation! ^^
***
Based on previous dungeon experiences, what NPCs typically desired was most likely either to become stronger or to return to their human forms.
But unfortunately, Ruan Qing could give them neither.
His mind raced, searching for the best way to avoid this predicament.
Yet there was no perfect solution.
If he admitted he couldn’t grant their wishes, the staff would never accept it—their reaction would inevitably turn volatile.
…Wait. There was a way.
The amount of blood on the ground was far from sufficient. The ritual array hadn’t fully materialized, and not a single person had died from blood loss yet.
Ruan Qing had witnessed the players replacing the sacrificial offerings earlier. In fact, he’d revealed himself prematurely precisely to save those offerings—before the "guests" could bleed out.
Due to the staff’s negligence and carelessness, the ritual hadn’t been properly activated, "preventing" his powers from fully "awakening." Naturally, that meant he couldn’t grant wishes yet.
If he framed this as merely a temporary limitation, the staff might still be patient enough to wait.
And with only four days left until the dungeon’s seventh day…
He just needed to stall for four more days. Then he could escape this nightmare.
Ruan Qing’s strength had long been exhausted after killing the monsters. Merely maintaining his standing posture was a struggle—his delicate face had paled, his slender fingers trembling faintly.
Yet he dared not show the slightest weakness. Summoning the last of his energy, he flicked his wrist slightly. Black mist coalesced mid-air, forming a projection.
The scene showed the sacrificial offerings being swapped with corpses—highlighting the dead wrists that couldn’t bleed and the sluggish materialization of the array.
Crucially, while the footage revealed the substitution, it didn’t expose who had done it. The hands moving the corpses even resembled the staff’s, leaving the players’ involvement concealed.
Such was the power of the Demon’s Eye.
To see through illusions, shield from prying eyes… and fabricate lies.
As the projection faded, Ruan Qing coldly lowered his lashes. "My awakening remains incomplete."
From the ground, "Qi Lintian" watched the boy’s draped robes with quiet amusement, content to observe the delicate liar spin his tale.
"He" neither stopped the other nor exposed the truth - one might even say "He" was indulging him.
After Ruan Qing finished speaking, the staff members bowed their heads again, prostrating themselves fearfully on the ground. Their voices trembled slightly as they pleaded, "Forgive our transgressions, Great Evil God. It was our negligence. We await your punishment."
As they spoke, worry flickered in their eyes - though whether they feared for their lives or were concerned about the Evil God's incomplete awakening remained unclear.
After several seconds of hesitation, one staff member gathered the courage to ask, "Will this... affect the Great Evil God?"
This was exactly the opening Ruan Qing needed. Maintaining perfect composure, he replied, "My power remains constrained. For now, I cannot grant wishes." As he spoke, he discreetly observed the prostrate figures below. Seeing no extreme reactions from the staff, he finally relaxed his grip slightly - his fingers had gone white from how tightly he'd been clenching them.
"In four days, my awakening shall be complete."
One sharp-eyed staff member immediately caught the key point. Looking up at Ruan Qing, he asked with inexplicable urgency, "What will happen to the Great Evil God after our wishes are granted?"
The question took Ruan Qing by surprise - he couldn't fathom the staff member's intention behind it. Yet now all eyes were fixed on him, awaiting his answer with bated breath. Even Lin Zhiyan and the lead staff member watched intently, as if this question held paramount importance.
With detached indifference, Ruan Qing uttered just two words: "I'll slumber."
The staff members exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable as they lowered their heads to conceal their thoughts.
If he were to slumber... that would mean they could never see him again, wouldn't it?
They had spent over a century's worth of effort to summon the Evil God - all for the sake of having their wishes granted.
Their wish to become human again.
Among them, some had summoned the Evil God to fulfill specific desires, while others had acted out of mere curiosity. None had anticipated that the first summoning would transform them into monsters.
The only difference between them and those eyeball-covered monstrosities was that they retained their reason and memories. Their bodies bore fewer eyes - some hadn't even fully developed them. It was as if the eyes were incompatible with their forms, the parasitic transformation incomplete.
Yet they shared the same monstrous traits - bloodthirsty, sinister, drawn to foul seawater.
They had become ageless. Deathless.
And as time passed, their bloodlust grew increasingly severe. Their rationality continued to erode until, eventually, they lost all traces of their human emotions.
One day, they would inevitably degenerate into those eye-covered monsters lurking in the ocean's depths.
If their devotion to summoning the Evil God had wavered initially, after transforming into monsters, the staff's conviction had become absolute. No one wanted to remain mindless creatures.
Yet now, on the verge of their wish being granted, hesitation took hold.
The staff gazed at the silhouette in the air, feeling long-lost emotions resurface as their blood threatened to boil over. If their wish was granted... they would never see him again, would they?
A human lifespan was pitifully short - summoning an Evil God had always been a fool's dream. Each summoning required immense preparation: selecting sacrifices worldwide, planning the seven-day cruise, all while avoiding outside suspicion. Countless failures had preceded this single success.
If they regained humanity, they'd never have enough time to attempt another summoning. Worse still, those whose wishes were fulfilled might lose their summoning rights permanently.
How could they bear parting after just this brief encounter?
This realization shocked them. Hadn't they summoned their deity precisely to have their wishes granted? Yet now, no one could - or wanted to - voice their desires. At least, not the wish to become human again.
If forced to name their true wish...
The staff shuddered, bowing their heads in horrified understanding. Even contemplating such... presumption toward their exalted deity was unthinkable. Yet the mere thought sent illicit thrills through them.
Some even secretly rejoiced that the Evil God hadn't fully awakened - though a traitorous corner of their hearts nursed quiet disappointment. If only his power had been completely restrained...
If the Evil God were to lose his formidable power...
The staff member suddenly felt his throat go dry. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably.
If His Excellency were powerless, then perhaps...
***
The terrifying summoning ritual finally concluded. Within just one hour, the cruise ship reverted to its first-day appearance.
Every corpse and bloodstain had been erased without trace. The deck corridors were sealed shut, the eye-covered monsters vanished, the ship's control systems rebooted, restoring the vessel to its former luxury.
No—it became even more opulent than before.
The staff instinctively decorated every available space. This time, their efforts held no half-measures or carelessness—they employed everything at their disposal.
They might as well have looted the world for finery.
All because of one new presence aboard: a youth who was their mighty and exquisite Evil God.
Yet no decoration could satisfy them. How could such an ugly ship be worthy of His Excellency?
The Evil God should reside in a magnificent palace, seated upon a towering throne, gazing down upon mortal realms with languid indifference.
Just like... this.
The staff's hearts constricted as they beheld the youth seated in the hall's central chair, then immediately began pounding violently.
Leaning against the lavish crimson chair, the slender figure appeared almost fragile—his jade-white chin slightly lifted as he looked down upon them with eyes brimming with listless apathy.
As though nothing in this world deserved his attention. Nothing could meet his gaze.
Nothing was worthy of the Evil God. Least of all these insignificant ants.
Yes, ants.
The youth regarded them as one would worthless insects.
Yet like dying zealots, they yearned to clutch at his robes, to overstep their station, to violently drag him from his throne.
A powerless Evil God would surely become helpless and vulnerable—forced from his divine pedestal, his every move controlled by others.
They would still place him upon a lofty throne, worshiping at his feet - yet they would clasp his delicate ankles and do with him as they pleased upon that throne, dragging him down into the abyss with them.
The staff member observing the radiant youth seated on the chair suddenly realized this being wasn't the Evil God at all, but something far more dangerous - the devil of legend.
The devil who lures men to corruption, who amplifies all desires, yet makes the poison taste like nectar.
When the staff member finished reporting, he wanted to say more, but the youth rose with visible impatience, leaving the hall without hesitation.
Of course the Evil God would show no interest in their petty affairs. Why would a deity concern itself with ants?
The staff member knew this perfectly well. The so-called report had merely been an excuse to gaze upon the youth a little longer. As the god departed, he nearly followed instinctively.
But with tremendous effort, he stopped himself, turning instead toward the library.
The library housed countless tomes and documents about the Evil God, and already many staff members had gathered there. They'd come immediately after cleaning the bloodstains and monsters from the cruise ship.
Their frantic research appeared to be atonement for earlier oversights.
Yet a closer look at their reading material would chill any observer to the bone:
"How to Deprive the Evil God of His Power."
