***
Bonus chapter! Thank you to JustSomeOne for the donation! ^^
***
After leaving Xu Jinyan's room and retreating to a shadowy corner, Ruan Qing could no longer maintain his composure. He staggered and collapsed onto the ground.
"Mmm..." Clutching his chest, his exquisite features grew even paler—so pale the veins beneath his skin became faintly visible.
The more he used the Demon's Eye's power, the more severely his body deteriorated. Now even his five senses were dulling—his vision and hearing far weaker than before.
Yet without the Demon's Eye, he couldn't mimic the Evil God's aura, and Xu Jinyan would have seen through him instantly.
"E-Evil God...sir?"
Just as Ruan Qing struggled to steady his breathing, a hesitant male voice came from behind. His hood had fallen when he collapsed, making recognition inevitable.
To encounter someone who knew him in this weakened state was the worst possible dungeon.
The moment he heard the voice, Ruan Qing's grip on the Demon's Eye tightened. He turned with icy detachment.
The man—apparently shocked to actually encounter the Evil God—cautiously took a few steps forward before stopping at a respectful distance, his expression openly concerned. "A-Are you alright?"
Ruan Qing recognized him instantly:
Player—Lin Gaoyuan.
A cowardly, indecisive man with no presence, who always followed others and fled at the first sign of danger.
Ruan Qing remained wary, his grip unrelaxed as his gaze dropped to Lin Gaoyuan's hands.
Understanding the unspoken question, Lin Gaoyuan rolled up his sleeve without hesitation, revealing an arm dotted with pale, circular marks—the telltale signs of eye parasitism.
But his infection was unusual.
For others, the eyes immediately burrowed into flesh, spreading rapidly until victims lost their minds within five hours.
Lin Gaoyuan's case was different. Though his arm was already covered in dense, whitish spots, the eyes hadn't fully emerged. At a glance, they might be mistaken for a skin condition.
Under Ruan Qing's impassive stare, Lin Gaoyuan inexplicably flushed with shame. He subconsciously covered the marks, mumbling, "...My eyes...they're growing rather slowly."
Lin Gaoyuan's voice grew quieter and quieter as he spoke, until it was almost inaudible by the end.
The initial fear and revulsion had now transformed into self-doubt—even something akin to dread.
Would the Evil God disdain him for being useless?
Lin Gaoyuan pressed his lips together tightly. His eyes felt strangely swollen, and an uncomfortable ache spread through his chest.
Ruan Qing studied Lin Gaoyuan's state with surprise.
Unlike the staff or those mindless monsters, the parasite didn’t seem to have drastically altered his personality.
Was it because the parasitic takeover wasn’t complete yet?
Bracing himself against the wall, Ruan Qing struggled to stand—but his legs nearly gave way again from sheer exhaustion.
Lin Gaoyuan’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight. Summoning his courage, he whispered timidly, "My Lord... is there anything I can do for you?"
Still leaning on the wall, Ruan Qing glanced at him and replied calmly, "I need water."
Lin Gaoyuan’s eyes instantly lit up, excitement surging so violently his mind nearly short-circuited.
"I’ll fetch it for you right away!"
He whirled around and hurried toward the nearest room, filling multiple cups to the brim.
But when he rushed back to the shadowed corner—
It was empty.
***
Naturally, Ruan Qing hadn’t waited around like a fool.
Lin Gaoyuan was already infected. There was no telling when the parasite would fully take over—staying with him was far too dangerous.
In his current state, Ruan Qing couldn’t even overpower an ordinary person, let alone face a monster head-on.
Leaning heavily on the walls, he staggered away, finally slipping into an inconspicuous room. The moment the door closed behind him, he slid down to the floor, utterly spent.
He’d assumed the room was empty—until he spotted the small boy staring warily at him from across the space.
Damn it.
His weakened state had dulled his awareness. But he had no strength left to search for another room.
Taking a slow breath, Ruan Qing leaned back against the door and weakly beckoned the child closer.
"Come here."
The little boy appeared to be about five or six years old, gripping his stick tightly with extreme wariness as Ruan Qing beckoned him closer, clearly prepared to defend himself if attacked.
Perhaps because Ruan Qing looked half-dead already, the boy hesitated for nearly a minute before finally trembling as he inched forward—though he stopped at a safe distance, refusing to come too close.
Ruan Qing didn't press further. His gaze rested gently on the child as he asked in a soft voice, "Where are your parents?"
The boy's grip tightened. After a long pause, he spat out two hollow words: "...Dead."
Ruan Qing pressed his lips together and fell silent. The room plunged back into stillness.
Weak as he was, Ruan Qing still had tasks to complete. He leaned his head back against the doorframe and slowly closed his eyes.
Meanwhile, the boy kept his stare locked on Ruan Qing, watching his every breath like a cornered animal.
Time blurred—it could have been minutes or hours—until the boy's monotone voice shattered the quiet:
"Are you dead?"
Ruan Qing opened his eyes but didn't move, simply glancing sideways at him. "Not yet."
"Will you die?" the boy pressed.
A faint chuckle escaped Ruan Qing. "Yes."
Whether he cleared this dungeon or not, in this world, his fate was already sealed.
The boy studied Ruan Qing's face, his own voice eerily flat: "Will I die?"
Ruan Qing froze. The question hung unanswered until the boy's stubborn stare demanded a response.
He could have easily lied with a comforting "No." Instead, Ruan Qing met his gaze and whispered truthfully, "Maybe."
No sadness. No fear. Just the same detached curiosity as the child asked one final question:
"Then... will I see Mom and Dad after?"
Ruan Qing's breath caught. He finally looked away, staring blankly at the ceiling before murmuring two words so softly they nearly vanished into the air:
"...You will."
But those two syllables carried impossible warmth—like a single beam of light piercing through endless night, dissolving every shadow of danger and despair.
Such was the young man's strange gift. Even in darkness, he could make hope feel real.
His mere presence radiated a warmth brighter than sunlight itself.
The little boy finally smiled—for the first time resembling a carefree five-year-old. Dropping the stick, he settled beside Ruan Qing.
Leaning against the door together through the storm-lashed night, an unexpected tranquility enveloped them.
Then—
"Grrr~"
The stomach's protest shattered the quiet.
Ruan Qing tilted his gaze toward the boy.
Initially composed, the child's face flushed crimson under the attention. Clutching his abdomen, he stammered, "I-I'm not hungry."
Ruan Qing neither agreed nor disagreed. Extending a hand, he murmured, "Help me up."
"I said I'm not hungry!" The boy sprang up, voice cracking with panic.
Watching him, Ruan Qing tilted his head slightly, his tone laced with impossible gentleness.
"Afraid I'll die out there?"
Silence. The boy just stared stubbornly, small body barricading the door's locking mechanism.
Remarkably perceptive—from four simple words, he'd deduced Ruan Qing's intent to forage.
Or perhaps not perceptive, but traumatized.
No struggle-marks scarred the room. Either his parents had shoved him inside before their demise, or they'd ventured out for supplies... and never returned.
Both scenarios spelled cruelty for a child this young.
I love when he's kind to children 😭
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