Chapter 20 | My Tavern-Keeper Boss Is Secretly an Ascended Immortal

Lu Mao slid down the stone wall, his head buzzing. Kneeling on the ground, he watched the giant palm slowly lift, leaving behind nothing in the rubble but a severed arm and a small piece of blood-soaked white fabric.

His mouth opened slightly, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

I hate this... I hate this feeling so much.

“Why did you save me? I can't even die...”

Lu Mao felt like an absolute failure.

He had accomplished nothing since coming to this otherworld, and because he was afraid of pain, he hadn't even wanted to use the system's abilities.

He had finally convinced himself to endure the pain so he could cling to a powerhouse's thigh and soar, only to end up getting the only person who had saved him since his arrival killed.

A useless piece of trash like him might as well just die.

【System warning: Abnormal emotional fluctuations detected in host—self-destructive tendencies have exceeded safety threshold. Activating Forced Calm Protocol.】

An icy sensation poured into the back of his head, as if someone had poured a glass of ice water directly into his brain.

Lu Mao shuddered. The suffocating feeling clogging his chest was forcibly suppressed a fraction, but his limbs remained numb. His fingertips clawed at the cracks between the stone bricks, and he didn't even feel the pain as his nails split.

“...What are you doing?” he asked, his voice raspy.

【Host, I will tell you this in the most straightforward, direct, and non-convoluted way possible—Misha used Holy Rebound to push you away so you could live, not so you could kneel here and let her death be in vain.】

Lu Mao's shoulders stiffened.

“I can reload a save, but she can't. When she dies, she's gone for good.”

【Correct. So before you reload your save next time, you had better stand up first. That green-skin is coming.】

Lu Mao looked up, watching the mountain of flesh loom over him. A lingering, grayish-white chill from the wraiths still clung to the bones of its right arm, and its left cheek, stripped of its lip, exposed gums that gleamed a dull yellow under the moss light.

Suddenly, he felt afraid. Not of death—he could reload his save if he died.

He was afraid that if he died now, absolutely nothing would remain of this timeline.

Misha would have died for nothing, Gerak would have died for nothing, Rayne and Balen would have died for nothing, and the wraiths Elliot summoned by burning his life force would have been summoned for nothing.

No one would remember what they had done on the ninth floor. They wouldn't even get a tombstone.

Lu Mao reached into his ring and gripped the Emergency Escape Scroll. The shattered crystals inside were burning, searing his palm with pain.

He stood up. His legs were still shaking, but he stood.

“Next time...”

He stared into the Goblin Hero's flickering, fiery eyes, his voice squeezing through his gritted teeth. “...No one is going to die.”

The moment the giant palm slammed down, he tore the scroll open.

White light erupted from the tear, spreading beneath his feet into a circular magic circle less than a meter in diameter.

The skeletal palm swept down, carrying a stench of blood, its fingertips brushing the stray hairs on his head—and then, the magic circle swallowed his figure.

Slamming down onto the empty pile of rubble, the Goblin Hero, Zhalge, threw back his head and let out a roar of absolute fury.

...

On the third floor of the dungeon, inside the secret room of the succubus tavern, the runes of the teleportation array suddenly flared to life.

Lu Mao stumbled out of the light, his knees slamming against the stone floor as he gasped for breath.

His fingers still clutched the ashes of the ruined scroll. The shattered crystals had long since cooled, crumbling and slipping through his fingers at a gentle squeeze.

The dim glow of the secret room's magic stone lamp cast shadows across his face, reflecting the wet tear tracks on his cheeks and the bitter, sorrowful smile he hadn't yet managed to wipe from his lips.

After pulling himself together, Lu Mao stepped out of the secret room, catching the eyes of the two people who had already turned their attention toward him.

“It seems you failed your quest,” Chen Jiu said.

He stood behind the bar, polishing his various mixing utensils. His expression remained as detached as ever, as if he had long anticipated Lu Mao's failure.

Meanwhile, Lumu hummed leisurely, looking quite pleased.

“Did you get a taste of how formidable an Elite-tier magical beast can be? But even an Elite-tier beast is utterly powerless before a Demon King—

“Now do you understand why your big sister here was laughing at you earlier, little boy?”

Lu Mao looked at her. The panic and desire he had felt during their first meeting were entirely absent from his eyes. Seeing her smug, victorious expression only filled him with an irrational surge of anger.

“I completed the quest. I figured out their objective, and I could have joined the party.”

A wave of fury swirled in Lu Mao's chest, but he did his best to report his progress calmly.

“But they were all killed. Once they were marked by the altar, the Goblin Hero slaughtered every single one of them.”

“I don't care about the process; I only care about results,” Chen Jiu said, uttering words that were incredibly obnoxious, yet impossible to refute.

“I only see that you tore your scroll and fled back here in a pathetic state. I don't see you having joined any so-called Hero's party.

“If you want to start your own party and play captain to amuse yourself, I have no objections. We can count this quest as completed.”

If Lumu's words had only provoked anger, Chen Jiu's words threw Lu Mao into a spiral of self-doubt.

To be honest, from the very beginning, Lu Mao had held a sense of awe and fear toward Chen Jiu—or rather, toward a powerhouse of the Soul Transformation Stage.

But now, he wondered if he should even listen to this man.

“It's fine. You've only just arrived here, so it's normal that you can't accept such a cruel world right away.

“Just rest up in the tavern for a while and forget about that bullshit Hero's party. They were just a bunch of useless trash who couldn't even get past the ninth floor. You can find people like them a dime a dozen in this world.”

Are those words even coming from a human being?

“Do you have even a shred of humanity left in you? At the very least, they came to this dungeon to rid the people of a menace—and if nothing else, they were of the same race as you!

“It's one thing to stand by and watch them die without lifting a finger, but to stand there and mock them after they're gone?

“If you ask me, you're no different from that beast that only knows how to swing its fists—you're all just cold-blooded monsters who prey on the weak!”

Lu Mao was absolutely, utterly furious.

He truly didn't understand what was wrong with this world. Did one have to prey on others just to grow strong?

Why was every powerful being he met so completely indifferent to human life? It was sickening!

“I hate everyone in this world who treats kindness as a weakness, exploiting others' goodwill as naturally as flies finding dung.

“They force genuinely kind people to become cold bystanders. Trying to talk about humanity in a place like this makes me feel like a total joke—like stepping into a boxing ring only to find out the referee is Mike Tyson and my opponent is Ultraman Taro!”

After venting his fury in a single, breathless torrent, Lu Mao deflated like a punctured balloon.

Yes, other than running his mouth, he couldn't change a single thing. He didn't have the power to change this world, and he couldn't even change himself.

Chen Jiu narrowed his eyes, a trace of imperceptible satisfaction flickering in his gaze as he looked at Lu Mao.

Humanity...

Lumu, however, did not hesitate to act. Several chains materialized out of thin air, binding Lu Mao to the spot.

“You're really asking for death!”

Just as Lumu was about to teach Lu Mao a harsh lesson, Chen Jiu patted her shoulder, and her intimidating aura instantly vanished.

“After all that talk, what is it you actually want?” Chen Jiu's words cut straight to the heart of the matter.

Lu Mao froze, meeting Chen Jiu's calm eyes.

“I want it dead.”

“Why should I help you?”

“Because you need my help, too.”

“Bold words.”

Though he said this, the appreciation in Chen Jiu's eyes only grew.

Yes, this was exactly the kind of drive he wanted to see.

“I can help you this time, but you must understand that if you want to protect those you care about, you cannot always rely on others.”

“I understand.”

A cowardly boy who feared death couldn't help him much, but a youth driven by burning passion possessed limitless potential.

And the existence of Death Return would guide those possibilities toward a predetermined future.

That future was exactly what he was betting on.

“I will deal with it for you shortly, and the credit will be attributed to their party. Now, you can die in peace.

“Lumu, kill him. Don't make him suffer too much.”

Chen Jiu's tone was so casual, as if he were merely deciding what to have for breakfast tomorrow, that Lumu wondered if she was hearing things.

“What? But...”

A rare trace of hesitation appeared on the succubus's gorgeous face.

She looked at the resigned Lu Mao, then back at Chen Jiu, who had picked up another glass to polish. For once, her eyes, usually brimming with playful smiles, held a hint of confusion.

“My Lord, didn't you say you quite appreciated him? Why suddenly...”

“Does appreciating him conflict with killing him?” Chen Jiu didn't even look up as he continued to wipe his glass.

Lumu opened her mouth, finding herself completely unable to argue.

The tension in her chains loosened for a fraction of a second before tightening again. Finally, she turned her head to look at Lu Mao and sighed.

“Fine then. Little boy, big sister will make this as quick as possible.”

Lumu pointed a slender finger, and the chains binding Lu Mao suddenly constricted...

Clang!

Death Return was triggered.

...

Countless images flashed rapidly before his eyes—

“Hey, Lu Mao! Lin Wan is transferring to another school tomorrow, so she's treating the whole class to KTV tonight. Are you coming?”

“Uh, I think I'll pass. I...”

“Don't pass! Don't you like her the most? It'd be pretty lame of you to not even say goodbye.”

“Fine... I'll go. But I have to be back before three...”

“Everyone else has already sung. Lu Mao, aren't you going to go up and sing something?”

“I'll pass, really. I'm not a very good singer.”

“Oh, come on, just sing one! We're all classmates, what is there to be afraid of? Lin Wan is leaving tomorrow, and you don't even have the guts to sing a song? That's way too wussy!”

“Yeah, Lu Mao, you're already here. Just sing one.”

“No, I really can't.”

“Fine, I'll pick one for you. Waiter—queue up ‘Love Even in Death’!”

The microphone was shoved into his hand, its cold metal casing making his palms sweat. The flashing lights of the karaoke room made his head spin. The song title had already popped up on the screen, and as the piano intro began to play, everyone turned their eyes to him.

Steeling himself, he raised the microphone to his lips. He was off-key from the very first line.

Laughably off-key.

The room fell silent for half a second before someone failed to hold back and snickered.

The laughter was like a contagious disease, spreading one by one until the entire room was roaring. Some slapped their thighs, others threw pillows at the people next to them, and some laughed so hard they slid off the sofa.

The lyrics kept rolling across the screen, and the backing track kept playing. He stood in the middle of the room, his hand holding the microphone raised in midair, unsure whether to keep holding it or put it down. His ears burned hot enough to fry an egg.

He placed the microphone back on the table and retreated to his corner. The laughter gradually died down, and someone skipped to an upbeat song, making the room lively once more.

He stared at the cola can on the coffee table, picking at the pull tab with his finger over and over.

It was fine. It wasn't the first time anyway.

“Lu Mao.”

Someone tapped his shoulder. It was a classmate sitting next to him, who leaned in and whispered, “Lin Wan is waiting for you over by the restrooms. She said she has something to tell you.”

His finger froze on the pull tab. Sure enough, on the other side of the room, her seat was empty.

He stood up, his legs feeling a bit weak, but he still walked out of the room step by step. Someone whistled behind him, but he didn't look back.

The karaoke hallway was long, the carpet stained with old, unwashable liquor marks. The air carried a bizarre scent of air freshener mixed with stale cigarette smoke.

Lin Wan stood near the entrance of the restroom, looking down at her phone. The motion-sensor light cast a harsh, pale glow over her, making her expression perfectly clear—she was smiling, but it wasn't a smile meant for him.

She looked up and saw him, freezing for a moment before quickly turning her phone face down on the sink counter.

“Oh, you're here,” she said.

“Yeah.”

He stood at the restroom entrance, not knowing what to do with his hands, eventually stuffing them into his school uniform pockets.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Yeah, moving out of town with my parents. All the paperwork is done.”

“Then... why did you call me over? Is there something you wanted to say?”

A few seconds of silence stretched between them, as if he were gathering his courage. His hands clenched and unclenched inside his pockets, over and over, until he finally raised his head to look at her.

“Lin Wan, I... I like you. I've liked you since our freshman year. You're leaving tomorrow, and I was afraid I'd never get the chance to tell you if I didn't say it now.”

“I know,” she replied.

“You know?” He blinked, dumbfounded.

Lin Wan didn't answer. Suddenly, the door of the stall behind her was pushed open from the inside.

Two or three boys squeezed out, holding up their phones with the cameras pointed straight at him. The lights glared, and the screens glowed. The confession he had just uttered was already playing on a loop on one of the phones, his voice stretched and distorted by the echoes of the hallway.

“Holy crap, he actually said it!”

“I told you he had a crush on you! Look at how pathetic he is, he actually fell for it! Hahaha—”

Lin Wan didn't laugh.

She turned her phone back over from the sink, glanced at the screen, and pressed the lock button.

But on the social media feed that was still refreshing on her screen, there was a post with a caption:

“That idiot in class actually thinks I'm into him. I'm dying of laughter.”

The like count was still ticking up.

Lu Mao watched as she slipped her phone into her bag. He watched the other boys push past him, one of them patting him on the shoulder and saying something he couldn't quite hear.

The hallway lights remained lit, casting their pale glow onto the unwashable stains on the carpet.

He stood there for a few seconds, then turned and walked away.

When he reached the front desk, the receptionist called out to him, saying their room hadn't been paid for yet. He fished two hundred yuan out of his pocket, laid it on the counter, and pushed the door open to leave.

Cold wind rushed down his collar, and he looked up at the sky.

It was the middle of the night, and there weren't many people on the street. The streetlights cast a pale glow over the curbs.

He pulled out his phone, scanned a shared bicycle by the roadside, hopped on, and began to ride slowly along the bike lane.

The headlights of a car approached from behind, casting his shadow onto the road ahead, stretching it longer and longer. The roar of the engine grew closer, and the high beams illuminated the entire street as bright as day.

He steered the handlebars slightly to the right, trying to give the car more room. But his wheel rolled over a shallow groove in the asphalt, causing the bike to wobble violently, throwing him off balance to the left.