(8/20)
Anchor Hall
Chapter 286: He really wouldn’t have to find a bite block, would he?
Wen Jianyan sat up on the bed with a gloomy expression.
The furnishings and layout of the room were unchanged from before; the only difference was that the shadows in the gaps had completely disappeared, replaced by the warm, reassuring glow of orange firelight. Everything had returned to normal—except for—
He raised his hand and touched his throat.
“Ugh.”
A sharp pain surged through him, and Wen Jianyan gasped.
His brows furrowed tightly.
As expected.
Although what had just happened felt like a dream, everything that occurred in that space was indelibly marked on his body. It was neither reality nor entirely a dream, and that dog of a Wu Zhu… had truly been merciless.
He lowered his head to check the inner side of his calf.
Since the bite hadn’t been very hard, the shallow red mark had nearly faded away, but…
The sensation of the other’s lips seemed to linger on that patch of skin; the teeth had barely pierced, causing no pain, but it felt strange—cold and teasing, as if a damp tongue had lightly licked across, leaving an itch that was hard to forget and ignore.
Wen Jianyan scowled, rubbed his calf vigorously with his hand, and then climbed down from the bed.
He habitually reached down with one foot to grab a slipper at the edge of the bed, but his other foot met empty air.
As Wen Jianyan bent down to search under the bed, his movement suddenly paused.
He remembered.
His other slipper had been left in that dreamlike space.
Wen Jianyan straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed, sulking.
He really liked those slippers.
They were custom-made for him.
Now he had lost one, and in a place he had no intention of returning to anytime soon.
“…”
No matter how he thought about it, Wen Jianyan felt it was unfair. He punched his soft pillow.
…Why was everything so frustrating?!
He walked into the bathroom, standing on one slipper.
In the oversized luxury mirror he had specially designed, the young man’s shadowy face appeared, glistening with water, along with a deep, blood-red bite mark on his Adam’s apple.
The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore, but against his excessively pale skin, it stood out strikingly and inappropriately, overly suggestive.
What was worse, to avoid unnecessary attention, he couldn’t spend points to have the system deal with the wound directly.
The existence of the Ouroboros could dull the Nightmare’s monitoring; otherwise, the Ping An Asylum wouldn’t be so easily polluted by Wu Zhu’s fragments from other instances. Wen Jianyan understood this clearly, and since this encounter had taken place in a “dream” format like the previous few times, it could bypass the Nightmare’s surveillance and detection—so Wen Jianyan was confident that his actions this time wouldn’t enter the Nightmare’s radar.
However, if he used points to repair his body, the outcome wouldn’t necessarily be so optimistic.
Waking up alone in a room with a sudden, unexplained bite mark on his neck—how could that not raise suspicion?
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, finally managing to suppress the anger boiling within.
He removed his crumpled, blood-stained T-shirt and tossed it into the trash bin. Then he opened the cabinet, took out the first aid kit, and began treating the wound on his neck in front of the mirror.
…He hoped he wouldn’t need to get rabies shots or something.
Although Wen Jianyan muttered curses under his breath, his hands moved skillfully and quickly.
In a matter of moments, the wound on his neck was treated.
Afterward, he rinsed the blood from his fingers and looked at himself in the mirror.
The white gauze covered that small patch of skin tightly, preventing any visible outline of the wound, and it no longer looked so strange.
Wen Jianyan touched the edge of the gauze, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes.
In any case, he had gained something this time.
Although Wu Zhu’s agreement had come too quickly and too easily, this temporary collaboration could be considered a success, and he had taken the opportunity to figure out the true usage of the Ouroboros—no matter what tricks the other might try later, he would know how to counter them.
But the problem was…
Wu Zhu had said too little about how long one could maintain a clear consciousness.
Three minutes at a time—how long would it take to recover?
He didn’t say, and Wen Jianyan had no way to guess.
So, here came the problem.
Although they had temporarily reached a “cooperation,” how could Wen Jianyan be sure that the Wu Zhu released in the instance was the same one he could converse normally with and not the one who had just lunged at him and bitten him?
Thinking of this, Wen Jianyan’s brows twitched, and he instinctively pressed down on the wound with his fingers.
A bit of blood seeped out.
He really wouldn’t have to find a bite block, would he?
With the negotiations with Wu Zhu concluded, Wen Jianyan returned to the guild the next day.
As soon as he entered, he was immediately surrounded by his guild members.
Chen Mo had noticeable dark circles under his eyes, and his calm, indifferent tone sounded somewhat gritted: “President, how long are you going to wait to deal with the backlog of matters?”
Yun Bilian asked, “Wen Ya and the others just returned from the instance and are resting now. Do you want to see them?”
Su Cheng said, “I heard from Qi Qian that you’re about to go into an instance soon. Is that true? Didn’t you just get back not long ago?”
Blond’s gaze shifted to Wen Jianyan’s neck: “Ah, you’re hurt! Why don’t you use system points for treatment?”
Wen Jianyan was forced to take a step back:
“Cough… Just hold on a little longer. I’ll deal with it when I get back from the next instance.”
“Let Wen Ya and the others rest well. It won’t be too late to see them when I return.”
He turned to Su Cheng: “Right, it’s true. I came here to tell you about this; I’m starting the next instance tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
Everyone gasped in shock.
“So fast?”
To be clear, Wen Jianyan had just returned from a challenging team instance, where he had made it into the top ten and gained many privileges. By all accounts, he could easily take a three- to four-month break before going into another instance, but surprisingly, only three or four days had passed, and he was already heading back in.
The blond thought, “…”
Wait a minute, why wasn’t I answered?
He stood to the side, sinking into deep self-doubt.
Wen Jianyan shrugged and vaguely said, “Um… The reason is complicated, but I’m afraid I have to go into this instance.”
Su Cheng looked at Wen Jianyan thoughtfully.
He understood that Wen Jianyan was certainly not a workaholic. Since he said this, there must be some urgent reason… and it likely had a lot to do with the Nightmare.
Thinking of this, he stopped pressing for answers and simply sighed, “Alright then.”
Wen Jianyan said, “In any case, I came to the guild to select the team members for the next instance.”
Su Cheng instinctively stepped forward: “Then I…”
“You can’t this time.”
Unexpectedly, Wen Jianyan rejected Su Cheng’s request outright without a second thought.
Su Cheng exclaimed, “Why not?!”
“You just got back from the last instance; your condition hasn’t recovered yet.”
Wen Jianyan said, “I’m in a tough spot, but you don’t need to be.”
Su Cheng frowned: “But…”
“Enough,” Wen Jianyan said impassively. “I’ve made my decision.”
Seeing Wen Jianyan’s unwavering stance, Su Cheng reluctantly fell silent, his mouth closing with frustration.
Wen Jianyan’s gaze lingered on Su Cheng for a moment.
He didn’t let Su Cheng join the team not only because the other had just come back from an instance and hadn’t rested enough but also due to other concerns.
The talents granted by those beginner gift packs were essentially soul traits, or rather, the manifestation of soul potential.
But…
Why had the prophecy plaque made from human souls that Mu Sen used cracked and even collapsed? Why was Orange Candy so cautious about using his talent, and why was the consumption so severe?
Was the height shrinkage Wen Jianyan had noticed before merely his imagination?
No, it wasn’t.
Wen Jianyan always believed in his observational skills; they were his means of survival.
After integrating a series of clues, he ultimately reached a terrifying conclusion that made his heart tremble.
The powers that anchors had seemingly received from gods in the instance were actually the strength of their own souls. The use of these powers always came with a cost.
The stronger the ability, the greater the price incurred, and the more frequently it was used, the higher the intensity of the consumption.
In essence, every streamer was consuming their own life to clear instances.
Each use of their talent was akin to a slow form of suicide.
To avoid immediate death, they had to self-harm, which was like drinking poison to quench thirst—how ridiculous.
In other words, even if an anchor diligently completed the terrifying objectives in the instance and eventually purchased a soul release voucher to leave the Nightmare’s live broadcast… they likely wouldn’t live much longer.
In this system, every anchor was a consumable.
However, before being harvested, most anchors would die within the instance.
The most direct evidence that confirmed Wen Jianyan’s suspicion was the “Secret Council.”
The anchors in the top ten who had appeared all seemed somewhat “strange” to varying degrees.
Whether it was the mason, whose body emanated a bizarre waxy smell and whose face could not be remembered, the white-haired, white-skinned, pigment-deprived Bai Xue with deep black eyes, or Orange Candy, who always maintained the appearance of a child despite his clear features, or the gentleman whose handsome face appeared disjointed due to his facial features…
In terms of personality, they all exhibited extremes.
Of course, perhaps it was precisely because of these unusual “extremes” that they had survived through so many instances.
But…
There was also another possibility.
That was, they had survived too many instances, which had caused them to become increasingly “strange.”
It was as if they had been corroded by their own talents.
The Nightmare was like a massive juice extractor, draining the anchors within of their essence, chewing them up completely, and only after squeezing out the last drop of value would it unceremoniously spit out the dry husk, discarding it ruthlessly beyond the system.
