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In Wang Guangfei's eyes, Red-Eye had shed its harmless facade, revealing a nightmarish form. Its crystalline red eyes darkened, glowing faintly like embers in the shadows.Ā
The creature's mouth, once lined with playful teeth, now stretched unnaturally to its ears, filled with rows of blood-stained fangs glistening with remnants of flesh.Ā
Its claws extended to a menacing twenty centimeters, ending in curved hooks poised to disembowel prey with a single swipe.
The transformation was so horrifying that Wang Guangfei froze, his body rigid and eyes wide in shock, as if facing a predator beyond human comprehension. His mind went blank, leaving him unable to react.
To Zuo Chengan, however, Red-Eye remained a harmless, oversized white rabbitāalbeit missing an ear and clad in a tattered suit. The stark contrast in perception was jarring.
Had the game imposed a visual filter to shield players from the boss' true form? Did attempting to attack or failing the mission strip away that filter, revealing the monster beneath?
Facing such overwhelming power, Wang Guangfei couldn't muster any resistance.
Spotting the system message box, he shouted desperately, "Cancel! Cancel the boss fight!"
As the words left his mouth, Red-Eye's monstrous form dissolved, reverting to its harmless bunny appearance.
Despite its shabby attire and battered look, it now exuded innocence. But Wang Guangfei couldn't smile; his nerves were too frayed.
Fortunately, he had stopped short of attacking. His scissors remained poised but unused, leaving room to retreat. Had he acted rashly, canceling the fight might not have been an option.
Zuo Chengan narrowed his eyes, focusing on the numbers above Red-Eye's head.
[HP: 51.75%]
Moments ago, its health bar had shown significant depletion. Yet now, despite losing an ear and bearing numerous wounds, its HP had risen.
How strong was its regeneration? Even if Wang Guangfei's attack had landed, it seemed unlikely his scissors could outpace the boss' healing.
At least they'd narrowly avoided a suicidal confrontation.
Meanwhile, unseen observers commented on the scene.
[Sigh, another one blinded by love. Didn't he break up with her? Why avenge an ex? What a shameāwe were so close to witnessing another massacre.]
[Can't relate. If my ex's dismembered corpse were dumped in front of me, I wouldn't blink.]
[Lower-world creatures are always like thisāquarreling endlessly but secretly caring. Pathetic.]
[I once saw siblings where the brother constantly told his sister to get lost, only to sacrifice his spot for her. She didn't last longāended up committing suicide in another game instance.]
[I've seen couples who couldn't stand each other but still avenged their partner in secret. These beings are truly baffling.]
ā¦
Though technically "human," the spectators behind their floating eyes seemed devoid of empathy, cold and self-absorbed. The players' actions baffled them.
Was emotional detachment a requirement for higher evolution? Did becoming an advanced species mean forsaking empathy?
They often sneered at the "lower worlds," belittling humanity's technology and behavior. To them, humans, ruled by feelings, were incomplete beings. Only their cold rationality represented true evolution.
Zuo Chengan disagreed. To him, rationality and emotion were inseparable parts of being human. Both were essential.
But one thing was certain: someday, he would crush every one of those observing eyes. He'd find the spectators hidden behind their screens and throw them into these so-called "child's play" game instances.
Let's see if they'll still laugh then.
ā¦
Back at the farm, after the scripted sequence ended, Red-Eye shot Zuo Chengan a venomous glare, as if memorizing his face, before vanishing.
With the boss gone, the system announcement echoed.
[Mission Accomplished! 1-4779 Uncle Mu Zhou's Farm will close in one hour!]
Wang Guangfei, battered by relentless mental blows, looked utterly defeatedāhe seemed to have aged a decade in mere hours.
Life-and-death scenarios were commonplace in this game. Even 5th Heavenly Ascension players couldn't escape them. Low-level players had long grown numb to it.
Taking a deep breath, Wang Guangfei said, "Brother, we couldn't have cleared this without you. Add me as a friend. I'll send you some credits later."
Zuo Chengan accepted the request without hesitation. After all, free credits were free money.
Wang Guangfei quickly exited the instance to claim his rewards.
In the Tower of Ascension, the prizes far surpassed those of regular instances, with successful clears often elevating players to fame.
Once the others left, Zuo Chengan lingered, wandering the farm.Ā
He'd noticed earlier that since the instance had been renamed, the farm animals had transformed to resemble the ordinary creatures in the photos on the farmhouse's second floor.
With the animals reverted to normal, how would future players complete their tasks?Ā
Gathering eggs posed no challenge. The cow barn was spotless, and most tomatoes had already been picked. Even the instance's host seemed likely to change from Red-Eye to another character.
[Ding! Changes detected in 1-4779 Uncle Mu Zhou's Farm! The dungeon will undergo adjustments and is temporarily removed from the Instance Hall.]
Normally, after an ascension dungeon was cleared, it became available for regular players in the Instance Hall. Ascended players often sold or shared first-run strategies, capitalizing on their knowledge.
But Zuo Chengan's antics had disrupted this process. The farm needed repairs before reopening, delaying its entry into the Instance Hall.
While the core environment remained intact, minor tweaks to its mechanics and rules would be required.
Zuo Chengan's actions had even displaced the farm's boss, leaving it temporarily hostless.