Chapter 4: It's All My Fault!
At the critical moment, Zhou Quan lunged forward, raising his hands to catch the petite girl.
The little girl seemed oblivious to the danger.
She tilted her pure white neck, scrunching her nose in reproach. “Brother, I’ve been waiting for you so long. Why did you only come back now?”
Her complexion was rosy white, her features exquisitely delicate—almost unreal.
If ordinary people were like clay casually tossed by the goddess Nüwa, then she was a treasured figurine painstakingly sculpted with utmost care.
Nüwa had poured all her artistry into crafting her; there was no one else in the world as beautiful, none who could rival her.
Though her tone was reproachful, Zhou Quan felt as if bathed in the gentle warmth of spring.
“My little ancestor, you scared me to death,” he said, his expression filled with affection. “You woke up, but why didn’t you call your brother?”
“Because I wanted to surprise you!” the little girl blinked.
Her innocent eyes brimmed with adoration for Zhou Quan, shimmering like raindrops on banana leaves or wind over autumn waters.
Zhou Quan smiled and kissed her forehead.
The girl’s name was Zhou Changle, his younger sister, five years old. She should have started kindergarten, but due to certain reasons, she had yet to enroll.
Zhou Quan stood and took her hand.
Zhou Changle was overjoyed, her slender arm swinging lightly, faint traces of several needle marks barely visible.
They entered the villa.
The chef had prepared dinner. Zhou Quan and Zhou Changle sat at the table, eating and chatting casually.
“Brother, do you know where Mom and Dad are?”
“Why aren’t they here?”
Zhou Changle picked up a piece of apple, dipped it in salad dressing, and nibbled it slowly.
Zhou Quan pursed his lips and said softly, “Mom and Dad went abroad for business talks; they won’t be home for a while.”
“Oh,” Zhou Changle’s face fell.
[Fabricating lies, playing with your sister’s trust, unworthy of being a brother—truly despicable.]
[Reward: One bottle of Happy Gummies.]
Zhou Quan’s expression flickered slightly.
[Happy Gummies]
[Contains thirty-two pieces per bottle, harmless, each piece brings ten minutes of good mood (villains can’t have a conscience, or they’ll get cavities).]
He reached into his pocket and took out a small candy bottle.
Inside were star-shaped gummies, each a different color, tied with a colorful ribbon.
“My little ancestor, a gift.”
Zhou Quan placed the Happy Gummies before Zhou Changle, cooing softly, “Brother specially prepared these for you. Eat them and you’ll feel happy.”
“Wow!” Zhou Changle’s eyes widened in delight.
She reached out her tiny hand and untied the ribbon.
She poured out a blue star-shaped gummy and held it to Zhou Quan’s lips, her eyes full of expectation.
Zhou Quan smiled and opened his mouth to take the candy.
Sweet. Very sweet.
Zhou Changle smiled sweetly, eating a pink star herself.
Her mouth curved upward, her eyes crescent-shaped.
“It really does make me happy.”
“Brother...”
Her voice grew faint, like a half-spoken dream, her gaze becoming hazy.
Zhou Quan’s expression changed as he reached out to hold her.
The next moment, Zhou Changle closed her eyes tightly, lowered her head, and leaned motionless against him.
“My little ancestor?” Zhou Quan called softly.
No response.
Zhou Quan sighed heavily, his heart weighed down.
Zhou Changle had suffered from a strange illness since childhood—she could fall asleep anytime, anywhere, regardless of what she was doing.
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Doctors at home were helpless to find a cure.
Worse still, the condition worsened as she grew older.
At first, she only slept for a few hours at a time.
Now, when she falls asleep, she stays asleep for at least two days.
The illness was rapidly deteriorating; it wouldn’t be impossible if, in a few months or even a year or two, she only woke up once in that span.
“Maybe Mom and Dad caught a curse trying to cure Changle.”
“Come to think of it...”
“Changle’s illness might be a curse too.”
Zhou Quan hugged his sister, brows furrowed deeply.
He murmured to himself, “Changle was born like this. Who cursed her?”
“If the evil god can save my parents, maybe it can save Changle too.”
His thoughts tangled within him.
He carried Zhou Changle to her room.
The walls were pink, the floor covered with a snowy white carpet, toys and plush dolls scattered everywhere.
He laid her gently on the soft bed.
Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “Changle, you’ll get better, I promise.”
He tucked the blanket over her, stood watching her for a moment, then turned away.
Zhou Quan had lost his appetite and returned to his own room.
“Punishing the wicked and rewarding the good is flexible.”
He sat at his desk, eyes glittering with contemplation.
“Changle almost fell; I caught her. That must be a good deed.”
“But the evil god didn’t punish me.”
He propped his chin up, speculating, “So, in the eyes of the evil god, helping family isn’t something to be punished for—at least, helping my sister isn’t?”
“Makes sense.”
He nodded, pondering aloud, “If helping family meant punishment, wanting to save my parents would have me punished all day long.”
Then, he thought of the Gray Night Society.
They had extorted 260 million from him—he had no way to pay.
Once the three-day deadline passed, they would definitely act.
He might have to confront the Gray Night Society.
Zhou Quan took out a piercing arrow and placed it on the table, staring at it thoughtfully.
“One arrow to the moon—no matter how strong the Gray Night Society is, they can’t withstand that, right?”
Unfortunately, he had too few arrows.
As a legendary supernatural organization, the Gray Night Society might have few members, but he only had one arrow—definitely not enough.
“If only I had more arrows...”
Zhou Quan murmured.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. He took out the evil god’s notebook and opened it.
Don’t I have achievement points?
[Achievement Points: 3]
[Achievement points are rewards from the evil god for loyal followers. You only need to silently invoke them in your mind to consume points, enhancing any ability or strengthening any item.]
“Enhancing items.”
Increasing the number of arrows counts as enhancement, right?
Zhou Quan stared at the number “3” on the notebook and silently invoked the enhancement on the piercing arrow.
Give me more arrows!
Evil god!
The number on the notebook rapidly changed.
3 → 2
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Under Zhou Quan’s expectant gaze, dark malevolent mist drifted from the number, enveloping the piercing arrow.
After a few seconds, the mist dissipated.
Beside the arrow lay another arrow, identical to the one nocked on the bowstring!
“Can this really work?” Zhou Quan’s face lit up with joy.
One arrow to the moon sends one person, two arrows send two!
His heart felt much more at ease.
Though just relying on piercing arrows might not be enough to take on the entire Gray Night Society, at least now, he wasn’t a helpless lamb to be slaughtered!
“Two achievement points left.”
“No rush to use them.”
Zhou Quan gazed at the extra arrow on the table.
The Gray Night Society had given him three days; before the deadline, the system might reward him with other treasures.
Perhaps even more powerful weapons than piercing arrows.
He decided to save the remaining points for later.
His gaze shifted downward.
At the very bottom of the notebook’s fine print, a line of bold, blacked-out text stood out prominently.
[This simulation has ended.]
[After the sun rises again, the next simulation can begin, praising the great evil god.]
Zhou Quan’s expression darkened.
Each simulation made him an accomplice to the evil god’s schemes, but if he refused to proceed...
...
Night deepened; all the lights went out.
Zhou Quan lay in bed, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.
Clouds drifted, obscuring the moon.
A stifling atmosphere filled the room.
Without warning, a low murmur emanated from within Zhou Quan’s body.
“I’m sorry, old director.”
“I’m the evil god’s lackey.”
“I deserve to die.”
The voice was low at first.
But as time passed, it grew louder.
“I truly deserve to die.”
“It’s all my fault.”
“Sorry.”
Strange black mist oozed from Zhou Quan’s pores.
The mist writhed and twisted, gradually forming the outline of a human figure.
It knelt upon Zhou Quan, endlessly whispering—each word a repetition of what Zhou Quan had said during the day.
Its voice was like the cold wind passing through an abandoned building at midnight, like the white plastic bags dancing mysteriously on the street, or the soda cans rolling by themselves without being touched.
The whispers filled the room, eerie, hollow, grating to the ear.
They sent shivers down one’s spine, making one wish to gouge out their ears.
Zhou Quan slept soundly, a smile playing on his lips.
The shadow rose stiffly, descending the bed with robotic movements as if a marionette.
It passed through the wall, merging into the pitch-black night, gradually vanishing without a trace.