Chapter 27: Showdown in the Devil City (4)
Tang Cuo waited for ten minutes, but the giant serpent still hadn’t woken up.
Peng Mingfan, Number 6 in the ghillie suit, and the others successively completed their trials. Tasks like scrubbing backs and washing fur weren’t particularly perilous, but they didn’t yield any rewards either.
The most watched in the arena were Jin Cheng and the only female contestant, Number 10; both had encountered multiple-choice trivia.
Asked of Jin Cheng, Question One: What is Lord Yorkshire the Firebird’s favorite sport?
A: Jumping through flaming hoops
B: Swimming in polar glaciers
C: Charcoal-grilled pixies
D: Playing dodgeball
“When in doubt among three short and one long, pick the longest.” Jin Cheng chose B. Wrong answer—chased all across the arena by the firebird.
Question Two: Who was Lord Yorkshire the Firebird’s first love?
A: Witch Joanna
B: Miss Elizabeth
C: Bobo the Pixie
D: Beetle Knight
What had pixies ever done to deserve this? One minute they were the first love, the next they were charcoal-roasted. Were they roasted because they were a lost love? An old bachelor like Jin Cheng didn’t quite get it, so he decisively chose D.
Wrong answer. Jin Cheng was once again chased down by his enraged master, but as long as he ran fast enough, the flames couldn’t touch his rear.
“Hahahahaha!” The little imp was having a blast, egging on the entire audience to watch the show, but then it spotted another gem. “Look at Number 12! Our darling Number 12—how utterly considerate, personally feeding dinner to Lord Black Demon!”
Tang Cuo didn’t want to wait any longer. Lifting the iron cauldron, he pried open the giant snake’s jaws and poured the contents straight down. Gurgle, gurgle. That bizarre stench wafted out once more, thoroughly intoxicating the entire arena.
The giant snake finally stirred. Its tail suddenly snapped taut, its body thrashing as something churned within its belly.
Tossing aside the cauldron, Tang Cuo retreated swiftly, pulling back ten meters. The giant snake violently heaved, vomiting up a massive pile of junk: leftover scraps, scrap metal, miscellaneous odds and ends, spreading all the way to the neighboring lane.
Terrified, Number 11 scurried away.
The audience stands collectively let out an “Eww—” and looked away.
“Lord Black Demon is awake!” Flapping its wings, the little imp flew far away, retreating until it was a tiny speck in the sky before pinching its nose to resume commentating: “Lord Black Demon looks furious! He didn’t appreciate the flavor of this dinner at all! Alright, we see Number 12 has already bolted! He’s running fast, but it’s use-less! Hahahaha!”
The giant snake sank its fangs into Tang Cuo’s shoulder. Instantly, Tang Cuo felt like his head was glowing green. Opening his character panel, it displayed the Poisoned status: Max HP reduced by 30%.
“Tsk.” Tang Cuo expressed his dissatisfaction expressionlessly. Turning his head, he saw Jin Cheng standing calmly amidst a sea of flames in the distance, chugging potions. Having gotten three questions wrong in a row, the entirety of Lane 4 had become an inescapable sea of fire.
At times like this, the competition came down to whoever had more potions.
Soon, Tang Cuo saw his second trial—Lord Black Demon is an erudite professor of potion-making. Today, he needs to brew a potion of transformation, but his assistant has fallen ill. As his beloved pet, the contestant is requested to assist Lord Black Demon in completing the concoction.
Potions?
Tang Cuo watched as the cooking counter transformed into a laboratory workstation: mortar and pestle, a complete set of test tubes, crystal measuring beakers, a cauldron, brushes—everything one could need. On the shelving beside the workstation lay numerous ingredients: unidentified leaves, branches, feathers, various ores, and so forth, carrying a distinct flavor of medieval black magic.
Potion-making: in all likelihood, this was a branch within Evernight City’s class system. Wen Xiaoming’s ability to independently develop potions was probably related to this.
Tang Cuo’s interest was piqued, his demeanor turning much more serious.
On the workstation lay the recipe for the Transformation Potion. The giant snake’s tail coiled around an hourglass and set it on the ground. Judging by the flow of sand, it would last about half an hour.
In other words, Tang Cuo had thirty minutes to complete this trial.
By the time half an hour passed, the other players might have already moved on to the third stage. But whether Tang Cuo succeeded or failed, he would have acquired this recipe. A gain for every loss, so to speak?
After a brief thought, Tang Cuo wasted no more time and got straight to brewing. He didn’t know which names corresponded to the ingredients on the shelves, so he could only judge by their appearance and smell.
Five minutes later—Bang! Black smoke billowed from the cauldron. The incompatible half-finished potion exploded, blasting a hole right through Tang Cuo’s sleeve.
“Whoa, Number 12 is truly a fearless darling! Look at that, it actually tossed Dragon Beard Root and Star Sand in together! Lord Black Demon’s face has turned completely green! Care to place your bets on how many cauldrons it will blow up in the end? No prizes for guessing correctly!”
Meanwhile, Meng Yufei finally finished his work, presenting the fruit of his frantic pedaling on the sewing machine to Madam Sally—a floral rag sack open at both ends, with more dangling loose threads than floral patterns.
Madam Sally didn’t immediately lose her temper. In good humor, she tried pulling the rag sack over herself, but it was an XXXL, while she needed an XXXXL.
“¥%&¥%¥%…¥%*&!!!” Stuck at the chest, Madam Sally flew into a rage from embarrassment. She hurled vile curses at Meng Yufei and lashed out with her tentacles, spraying fishy saliva that nearly hit Peng Mingfan next door.
Who did Peng Mingfan ever offend?
Dung beetle to the left, octopus monster to the right, and a noble centaur insisting on playing catch with him. If he failed to catch the ball, he would become the ball thrown instead.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Tang Cuo continued blowing up cauldrons. His HP plummeted steadily from 70%, losing 8 to 9% each time, embarking down Jin Cheng’s well-trodden path of chugging potions to tank damage.
Jin Cheng arrived at his final trial—Guess Who I Am?
Yorkshire the Firebird had two heads, which were actually twin sisters. As their beloved pet, Jin Cheng naturally had to distinguish which was the elder and which was the younger.
Only one chance to answer.
Not a matter of intellect, purely a gamble on luck.
Jin Cheng’s luck was extreme: either remarkably good or terribly bad. Since it was a fifty-fifty split, he tossed out an answer at random—and actually got it right.
“Congratulations to Number 4! Two successes out of three trials, with a Master-Pet Chemistry exceeding 60%! As expected of the cutie I picked! Let us give it a round of thunderous applause!”
The first to finish the trial was Meng Yufei. Even though he had failed three straight times, he had successfully survived. After passing, he didn’t dare linger, glaring venomously at Jin Cheng before turning to leave.
Yet he had barely taken ten paces when the little imp’s congratulatory announcement rang out. His heart skipped a beat. Whipping his head around, a long metal arrow expanded rapidly in his pupils.
“JIN! CHENG!” Meng Yufei scrambled into an awkward roll across the ground, a streak of blood cut across his temple.
“I warned you,” Jin Cheng aimed his bow at him. “If you dare make another move, I will definitely slaughter you.”
Meng Yufei: “I didn’t kill you! What do those low-tier garbage have to do with you?! Besides, they didn’t even truly die!”
Jin Cheng: “Whether they die or not is none of your fucking business.”
Meng Yufei: “You!”
The two clashed once more. Although Lanes 4 and 8 were separated by some distance, preventing close-quarters combat, Jin Cheng was an archer; such restrictions were entirely to his advantage.
Moreover, Meng Yufei had just been pummeled by the octopus monster and was far from peak condition. Jin Cheng striking now was textbook hitting-a-man-while-he’s-down.
Their figures soon vanished beyond the circular plaza.
This didn’t distract Tang Cuo in the slightest. He remained engrossed in blowing up his cauldrons, using the process of elimination to identify each ingredient’s name, steadily inching toward the correct answer.
He carried two basic potions on him; one was already consumed, leaving one remaining.
Soon, the other players completed their trials one by one. Some failed all three and survived purely by tanking the hits, like Qian Wei. Some passed all three through sheer luck, like the girl at Number 10. The rest failed once or twice, nursing injuries.
Numbers 3, 6, and 10 held a brief discussion and immediately pursued Jin Cheng and Meng Yufei. This group’s overall strength was higher than Qian Wei and Peng Mingfan’s; clearly, they intended to compete for the top ranking.
Numbers 2, 9, and 11 followed shortly after.
Originally, Qian Wei and Peng Mingfan should have been ahead of them, but Peng Mingfan glanced at Tang Cuo and said, “Let’s wait a bit and go together.”
Only Qian Wei, Peng Mingfan, Tang Cuo, and the unlucky Number 1 remained in the arena. Number 1 had already failed twice in a row, curling agonizingly on the ground, beaten by his master until he was nearly coughing up a lung.
His third question flashed onto his light screen. Peering through bruised, swollen eyes, he didn’t dare look, crawling frantically toward the neighboring lane: “Save me, save me! Please, save me!”
“Get on your feet and answer it yourself!” Qian Wei, having just popped a potion, caught his breath.
“I can’t do it, I can’t!” Number 1’s face was smeared with blood and tears. “I was dragged in here for a Mandatory Quest in the first place! I have no choice, save me, please!”
A Mandatory Quest.
Hearing this term, even Tang Cuo couldn’t help turning to look.
Zhang Xing had once mentioned that players who slacked off in Evernight City without actively undertaking quests would trigger a Mandatory Quest, capped at a one-month limit. All Mandatory Quests were notoriously perilous—perhaps not because the quest itself was inherently terrifying, but because for a player dragged into one, its difficulty vastly exceeded their capabilities.
No wonder Number 1 didn’t even have teammates.
“Oh dear, it looks like Number 1 can’t hold out much longer! This trial requires following the master’s commands to perform specific actions! If you don’t scramble to your feet, the master will get angry! All of Devil City knows Lord Servis has a rather short temper. Can our pitiful Number 1 endure his wrath?” The little imp clearly didn’t fancy Number 1 either, pouring oil on the fire.
Servis looked like a textbook demon: red eyes, horns atop his head, towering and burly.
The mere sight of him scared Number 1 out of his wits, and he knew nothing except fleeing.
“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t kill me…” Seeing that no one was coming to his rescue, Number 1 broke down completely. Staggering to his feet, he turned to run.
However, his stalling had already infuriated the demon Servis, who raised a colossal foot to stomp down on him.
In the nick of time, Tang Cuo abruptly raised his revolver. Bang!
A gunshot rang out, the bullet striking Servis’s ankle.
Right on its heels was another gunshot. Peng Mingfan, master of outlining human silhouettes, clipped Servis’s calf, grazing the skin. Servis paused for a fraction of a second, allowing Number 1 to roll out of the way.
“*&%#&%&@%!” Servis roared in fury, the spectator stands erupting into agitation.
“This batch of contestants truly is far too loving, not fitting Devil City’s spirit at all! A word of warning to our cuties: carry on like this, and you won’t receive any gifts, you know!”
Tang Cuo’s response to the imp was an emotionless second shot.
Servis had thick hide and coarse flesh; a couple of bullets couldn’t inflict substantial damage. Unable to reach Tang Cuo, he vented all his fury onto Number 1, stomping down with even greater force.
Qian Wei watched with his heart in his throat, but lacking ranged capabilities, he could only look on. What astonished him most was that Tang Cuo was shooting with one hand while tossing ingredients into the cauldron with the other!
Bang! The cauldron detonated right alongside the gunshot.
Freeing both hands, Tang Cuo gripped the revolver with both. But the distance was too great and bullets were limited; Tang Cuo could only fire at critical moments to buy time. Panicking and fleeing without any effective coordination, Number 1 still couldn’t escape the fate of being stomped on.
“Aaaaargh!” Servis’s giant foot crushed right through one of his arms, bringing the punishment to an end.
Qian Wei’s heart jumped at the agonizing shriek. Having run several instances, he still couldn’t get used to such sights. Peng Mingfan pushed up his glasses, his expression relatively composed, though he turned his head away.
Tang Cuo said nothing. Holstering the gun, he immediately resumed brewing. There were seven minutes left before the time limit expired.
The little imp’s mood improved again: “What will happen to our disobedient darling Number 12? You’d better hurry, you know—you’re in dead last!”
Without lifting his head, Tang Cuo’s hands moved noticeably faster. Picking up ingredients without even looking, he dropped them into the cauldron in rapid succession, appearing fully confident. Only when picking up a vial of Star Sand to pour inside did his expression turn solemn.
Yet he did not hesitate.
Three grams of Star Sand—just a tiny pinch. The iridescent sand sprinkled into the bubbling black brew, instantly reacting with the liquid.
The black color rapidly receded, matching the hue of the sand. Following the recipe’s instructions, Tang Cuo stirred continuously. The variegated colors continued to fade until the potion turned completely clear.
Yet just as he thought success was at hand, the cauldron blew up once more.
Where had it gone wrong?
At that moment, the little imp seemed to catch sounds from afar, delight showing on its face. “Looks like something fun has happened up ahead! Lord Imp won’t hang around with you stragglers any longer! See you at Stage Three!”
With that, the little imp flew forward and soon vanished from sight.
The monster audience booed, as if urging Tang Cuo to hurry up; they had no interest in watching such a dragging competition.
Tang Cuo restarted the brewing process.
Same procedure, same outcome. Three minutes left on the clock.
Frowning, Tang Cuo knew in his heart that he couldn’t brew the potion—he simply didn’t possess the talent for it. So he simply kicked over the hourglass.
Hiss— Flicking its tongue, Black Demon signaled deadly danger. But before it could make a move, a hand was suddenly thrust right up to its fangs.
Tang Cuo: “Bite. Hurry.”
Black Demon froze. Qian Wei and Peng Mingfan froze as well.
Tang Cuo’s ridiculous moves weren’t over yet.
After the second bite, Tang Cuo’s max HP was reduced by another 20%—10% less than the initial poison—dropping to 50%. The light screen quickly refreshed with his third trial: nonsensical multiple-choice trivia just like Jin Cheng’s.
Without even looking at the options, Tang Cuo blindly selected ‘C’ for all three. One correct, two wrong.
Still bewildered, Black Demon was urged by him to deliver a third bite.
The entire sequence took Tang Cuo four minutes flat. His max HP dropped to 40%—straight back to poverty. Tang Cuo raised an eyebrow, then beckoned to Qian Wei and Peng Mingfan: “Let’s go.”
Decisive and ruthless to the extreme.
Snapping back to their senses, the two barely managed to keep pace with the big boss, only to see him abruptly stop.
Tang Cuo bent down and picked up an object from the ground. It was a ring encrusted with green patina, layers of tarnish completely obscuring its original form. It had clearly been vomited up by Black Demon during the first trial. Tang Cuo hadn’t intended to pick it up, but just now, when he accidentally kicked it, a familiar chime rang in his ears.
Ding!
Congratulations to the player for triggering the hidden quest “Kingdom of the Hidden Moon”. This is a chained quest available in solo or team mode. Would the player like to enter immediately?
After a brief thought, Tang Cuo selected ‘No’. With a thought, the notification chime vanished instantly, and the rusted ring lay quietly in his palm, as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever occurred.
“Tang-ge, what’s wrong?” Qian Wei called out from Lane 5; evidently, they hadn’t heard the chime.
“Nothing.” Tang Cuo stowed the ring away, keeping quiet about it.
Number 1 was still sprawled on the ground, groaning in agony. Qian Wei called out to him twice, urging him to set off quickly, but he didn’t budge. Separated by several lanes, Qian Wei couldn’t stay behind to wait for him either. Gritting his teeth, he turned and left.
Five minutes later, the three stepped onto a wide avenue strewn with monster corpses. These monsters all looked very similar: sharp noses, pointed ears, greenish-black skin, small stature, holding blades—resembling the goblins commonly seen in online games.
The number of slain goblins on this avenue was staggering, growing denser the further they advanced, blanketing the path everywhere. And most importantly: there were no longer any barriers separating the lanes.
Qian Wei finally ran up alongside Tang Cuo, his voice tight: “Were these all killed by the players ahead?”
Peng Mingfan: “Probably. We need to hurry.”
Without another word, the three sprinted forward at full speed. Right then, Tang Cuo glanced back over his shoulder. At the end of the road, where they had come from, the slain monsters were shakily stumbling back to their feet.
“Speed up,” Tang Cuo said coldly.
The mobs were respawning.
