WTNL Chapter 269

Changsheng Building
Chapter 269: Trust me, okay?

The blood-red letters outside the “Changsheng Building” live broadcast hall flickered.

Difficulty Level of the Hall: A+
Highest Unlock Level In History: ■■
Viewing Value: S

Unknowingly, the viewing value of this entire instance had skyrocketed to the highest level, hanging high above the entire live broadcast square, occupying the most prominent exposure spot. Though this instance was nearing its time limit, the number of online viewers continued to surge.

Even in the Nightmare Live Room, “Changsheng Building” was considered unique.

Its opening duration was incredibly long, making it difficult to trace back, but the number of times it opened was very few. Although each time it opened, different teams were placed inside, the highest floors they reached and the hidden items they obtained were all different.

However, in the “Changsheng Building” instance, no values related to unlock levels were ever displayed. Even the number of hidden items was unknown.

Previously, the audience didn’t understand the specific reason behind this.

Until this time.

As the first team to reach the non-existent “Fifth Floor” appeared, the audience finally understood why this instance didn’t have a highest unlock level or a specific number of hidden items—because it was, in theory, a building with no end. If there were no time limits, the anchors could infinitely clear floors.

Moreover, every four floors, the “customers” they encountered would change.

Previously, the audience thought that different batches of anchors were just randomly assigned to different shops, which was why they faced different challenges. But this time, they realised that it had little to do with the shop selection and was instead determined by the deep logical structure of the instance itself.

Since the first anchor reached the previously unreachable fifth floor, for the first time, the historical highest unlock level appeared at the bottom of the “Changsheng Building” instance. Although the exact number was still indecipherable, it would flicker and jump occasionally, as if disturbed by something.

As time passed, the number of online viewers for “Changsheng Building” gradually increased. Among them, at least half of the viewers were focused on the live rooms of four anchors.

These four anchors were the ones who had ventured into the deepest parts of the instance and triggered the ultimate mainline mission.

Qi Qian, Orange Candy, Su Cheng, Wen Jianyan.

Among them, Wen Jianyan’s “Integrity First” live room unexpectedly blacked out and shut down just as there were ten seconds left on the ultimate mainline mission countdown, with the system indicating a lost signal. According to the last image before the signal was lost, Wen Jianyan had already been surrounded by countless paper figures, likely facing a grim fate, and his live room could shut down at any moment.

Although the other three’s live rooms didn’t disconnect like Wen Jianyan’s, the situation didn’t seem optimistic either.

Only a few seconds remained, and they had no clues to break the deadlock, leaving them with almost no chance of success.

The audience in the live rooms held their breath, eyes fixed on the blood-red countdown at the top of the screen, waiting silently.

00:00:03

00:00:02

The last second.

There was no chance of a comeback.

The screen froze on the pale faces of the three.

In the terrifying courtyard, a red-clad female corpse stood behind them, and in front were countless paper figures. They were trapped, with no way to escape.

The audience didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved as they sighed.

What were they hoping for?

There were only two seconds left. Could anything still happen? It seemed that these potential talents had reached their limit… although they triggered the ultimate mainline mission, they couldn’t complete it in time and would thus be wiped out by the system. 

What a pity.

But in the Nightmare, such things were not uncommon.

The crowd sighed and began to disperse.

Without any warning, under everyone’s watchful eyes, the system’s countdown suddenly stopped.

The screen froze at a dangerous number.

00:00:01

[What? What’s going on? Did the system malfunction?]

[Signal cut off?]

The live room was in an uproar, and confused voices echoed like waves.

A bullet comment slowly scrolled across the screen:

[I told you, don’t jump to conclusions so quickly.]

[The talents of the two anchors haven’t even been used yet.]

*

In the darkness, a young man raised his arm, pushing the other’s shoulder.

The wide, blood-red sleeve slid down, revealing a slender forearm. His thin wrist curved at a fragile angle, and the small patch of exposed skin was so white it was almost blinding.

“Wait, wait a moment.”

Wen Jianyan raised his head, his voice catching slightly.

“?”

Wu Zhu paused, raising his eyes, confused by the human’s refusal.

“But…”

Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, trying to speak in a calm voice: 

“But, in theory, our transaction isn’t complete yet—and everything hasn’t ended, the Nightmare hasn’t disappeared yet, has it?”

“…”

Wu Zhu tilted his head slightly. His flowing black hair slipped onto Wen Jianyan’s shoulder like cold, soft tentacles, bringing a tickling sensation.

“But it makes no difference anymore.” 

He seemed puzzled.

“I told you, leave the next part to me. You just need to wait.”

“As long as you stay here, the mark it left on your soul will gradually weaken until it disappears.”

Wu Zhu wrapped his arm around the young man’s waist, like a large cat encircling its prey. 

His golden eyes held a deep, dark desire, starkly contrasting with their appearance. 

His cold palm slid down, landing precisely on the hipbone.

“Mmph!”

A muffled groan escaped the young man’s throat, low and trembling, swallowed back into his chest.

Wen Jianyan frowned, and it was unclear whether it was from pain or something else…

He lowered his head, his long eyelashes trembling slightly. A faint blush crept up his cheeks, spreading like fire to his ears, creating a sharp contrast with his silver hair.

“My mark will replace its mark.” The coldness of Wu Zhu’s palm penetrated the thin fabric, branding the tormented, fragile skin beneath. This time, Wu Zhu explained with rare detail and patience.

“Once I’ve completely devoured ‘it,’ you will fully belong to me.”

—It was obvious that the “it” in his words referred to the Nightmare.

And in this battle of wits, Wu Zhu had gained the upper hand.

“I understand, but…” Wen Jianyan’s voice remained hoarse, yet it carried a tone of refusal that could not be denied. “In principle, it’s not time yet, is it?”

“…”

Wu Zhu coldly furrowed his brows, showing clear impatience with this conversation that couldn’t move forward.

Until Wen Jianyan suddenly raised his hand and gently placed it on his shoulder.

“You need to understand… I’m not rejecting you.”

The young man raised his eyes, amber orbs swimming with moisture. His entire demeanor was soft, pitiful, and full of warmth:

“It’s just that, in the previous instance, I still had companions—do you know what happened to them?”

“…They’re still alive,” Wu Zhu said.

He answered this question with some reluctance.

Wu Zhu didn’t care about the “companions” Wen Jianyan mentioned. To be precise, he had this attitude towards all humans other than Wen Jianyan. Let alone those companions… 

Remembering the hug he witnessed, and the near “artificial respiration,” Wu Zhu’s brow furrowed again, showing displeasure.

In his heart, he believed that not actively taking their lives was already an act of great generosity.

“But if it continues, they’ll soon die.”

Wen Jianyan stared at the man in front of him, slowly adding, as if certain of this outcome.

“You know it too, don’t you?”

“…”

Wu Zhu didn’t respond.

His expression was indifferent, not even a twitch of his brow, making no effort to hide his apathy.

Wen Jianyan had no doubt that even if all humans died, this false god wouldn’t bat an eye.

Taking a deep breath, he said: 

“Once everything is over, I will belong to you, I won’t deny that… Our deal is still in progress, and your mark is still on me, so as long as my teammates survive, I’ll agree with your decision.”

“The deal ends early.”

“I’ll go with you.”

【The Fruit of Lies has been consumed】

Wen Jianyan pressed his warm lips to the other’s cheek, his long silver eyelashes hiding his eyes, and whispered softly: 

“But right now, I have to go back.”

Wu Zhu still didn’t answer.

“You’ll let me go back, won’t you?”

In the next second, the intricate ten-sided die began to spin.

Clatter, clatter.

[78/10]

【Failure】

Unsurprising.

“I belong to you, forever.”

The young man’s fingers traced the other’s shoulder and neck, the pad of his finger sliding along the complex dark runes, outlining the curves of his muscles, teasing, lightly brushing. Wen Jianyan’s fingertips touched the cold skin.

Teasing, provoking, sliding, until the other’s firm, well-defined abdomen began to tense uncontrollably, tightening, contracting.

“But, after all, I’m just a human.”

“Emotionally sensitive, mentally fragile… Easily affected by the life and death of other humans.”

Fingers hooked, tangled, disappearing into the shadows.

“But you do want to make your follower happy, don’t you?”

“?!”

Wu Zhu’s pupils suddenly contracted, his golden eyes fixed unwaveringly on the young man in front of him, as if he had suddenly lost control of the situation.

“You—”

He swallowed the rest of his words, biting down on them.

“Ah, I’m not a liar,” Wen Jianyan blinked, looking extremely innocent. “I promised you earlier, and I will definitely fulfill it.”

“…”

The arm around his waist suddenly tightened, as if it was about to snap his waist in half.

Seemingly affected by its master’s emotions, the surrounding darkness became chaotic and violent, like the surface of the sea before a storm, churning with overwhelming force, terrifying to the extreme. Only the two of them stood still at the center of the storm, leaning against each other, unmoved like a mountain.

“Why such a big reaction? Weren’t you the one who wanted me to teach you?”

Wen Jianyan suddenly smiled. He tilted his head and rested his cheek on the other person’s shoulder. His light-colored eyes appeared sweet and cunning, as if he were weaving a poisonous trap.

He moved closer, touching Wu Zhu’s cheek with his nose, his voice lowered, wrapped in moist and warm breath:

“…I’m teaching you now.”

“Have you learned it?”

Wu Zhu’s pupils suddenly contracted into thin slits.

“!”

His expression was chaotic, with a hint of confusion and bewilderment; his thin lips slightly parted, seemingly suppressing a breath.

“Mm…”

A low, confused sound escaped his nose.

He suddenly lowered his head, burying his face in the other’s shoulder and neck. The strong arms and the backs of his hands bulged with fierce, twisted veins from exertion, as if he were holding back the urge to completely crush the human in his arms.

The human’s bones creaked, as if they were about to be crushed by the suffocating embrace.

“…Hiss!”

Wen Jianyan took a sharp breath.

He slightly furrowed his brows from the pain in his bones, but a malicious smile flickered in his eyes.

“Just as I promised, it is indeed very interesting… isn’t it?”

The entire live room knew that Wen Jianyan had a pair of very beautiful hands.

And he was very skilled at using them.

The veins on the back of his hands were like distant mountains, winding under his pale skin. His fingers were long, his joints nimble, and the pads of his fingers were warm and soft.

Whether it was unlocking something or performing tasks more delicate, intricate, and requiring more patience, he could handle it all with ease.

…Some viewers had fantasized, had been curious, about what it would feel like to be touched by such hands.

So dexterous, soft, venomous, and teasing.

Luring, enticing, manipulating… lightly stirring up chaos and disputes, indifferently unleashing terrifying forces that shake people’s hearts.

He used his other hand to stroke the back of the other’s head, his fingertips threading through the long hair, lazily and idly massaging.

“See, I’m willing to make you happy.”

The playful tone at the end of his sentence lifted, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down, releasing a sticky, sweet sound:

“You want to make me happy too, don’t you?”

[78/60]

【Failure】

The number on the ten-sided die wasn’t necessarily fixed.

Although luck couldn’t be changed, the probability of success could be manipulated.

In Fukang Hospital, those countless ghost infants had proven this concept.

As long as you made the same wish, then changed what you could change, destroyed what you could destroy, and guided things in the direction you wanted… he was a liar.

A liar who deceived people’s hearts.

He never hid his despicable nature, and as long as he could achieve his goals, he would use everything at his disposal, influencing everything he could.

For example, the mental defenses of the one he was lying to.

Or… their self-control.

The neatly trimmed nails, curved and round, teasingly scraped past, stirring up an uncontrollable shiver.

“…”

Wu Zhu lowered his head, his golden eyes clouded, busy trying to bite down and suppress the chaotic, terrifying, and unfamiliar feelings. His voice rumbled in his throat, like a confused, pitiful beast.

“My God the Father…”

Wen Jianyan affectionately leaned in closer, his amber eyes deepening, turning a caramel-like color.

“Wu Zhu.”

“Wu Zhu.”

“Let me go back, alright?”

He raised his head, biting the cold edge of the other’s ear, softly licking with his warm tongue, his gentle voice wrapped in dampness.

“I swear, I will definitely come back. Once everything is over, we will be together forever.”

The liar leaned in with a smiling face.

“Trust me, okay?”

[78/100]

【Success】

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