Chapter 139: Aberrant 29

This was Qian’s sixth week at Tianzi Building.

Everywhere in the building were traces she had left behind.

Back when she played hopscotch with Chen Cailing, she had drawn lots of squares on the floor with a piece of chalk.

The math problems Chen Cailing gave her while doing her homework—like “what is one plus one,” “what is two plus two”—had been scribbled by her on the walls.

On the second floor, there was a spot where a bit of the wall had already peeled off, and she’d picked at it until a whole large piece came loose. The shape now looked a bit like a big rooster.

The lush bougainvillea had been picked day after day by her, scattered all over the nooks and crannies of Tianzi Building. These flowers didn’t wilt easily, so even after a long time they were still a vivid red, and whenever someone got close, they would snap open and shut—startling countless hiding Players.

A door on the third floor had been smeared with lipstick by her, and the window next to it had been accidentally broken, now covered with a chopping board she found in someone’s home.

…

The traces left by Players in the Monster Domain would disappear quickly. That’s why, over the years, no matter how many Players came, Tianzi Building always looked the same as before. But as a “anomaly” within the domain, the marks Qian left behind would remain just like the building itself.

Which meant, barring any accidents, the six walls full of her doodles would likely remain there forever.

“When night falls, we’ll play hide-and-seek.”

That’s what Aberrant Mama said to Qian.

“You hide, I’ll come find you.”

This was something Aberrant had learned from a pair of twins during the last Mission cycle.

Aberrant Mama discovered that if she played this game, the child would obediently stay hidden in one spot for a very long time.

“Okay!” Qian eagerly agreed, nervously finding a room and hiding in a wardrobe, pulling the hanging clothes over her head.

Aberrant could sense exactly where she was, but of course she wouldn’t go find her right away. She used the time to have her meal first.

When the child had been hiding for too long without hearing anything, and began to stir restlessly wanting to go look for her mama, Aberrant would walk by the door and whisper eerily, “Where are you… I can’t find you…”

Immediately, the child would cover her mouth and fall silent again, staying curled up in the wardrobe, waiting for Mama to find her.

Of course, for the Players inside Tianzi Building, a talking Aberrant was far less friendly.

Also hiding, they would hear that same eerie voice say:

“Where are you… where could you be…”

“I’m coming to find you…”

“I’m almost there…”

Any Player who heard that would feel immense psychological pressure.

The previously silent, murdering boss—how was she talking now after her upgrade?! And saying such terrifying things!

Was this some kind of mental attack?!

It was just a mama playing with her child.

“What do we do?! We’re gonna die! We’re definitely gonna die! This is all your fault for saying we should come find that Mini Boss Qian!”

“Shut up! Now you’re blaming me?! Weren’t you the one tempted when I brought it up? It’s not like I forced you to come!”

The two Players whispered fiercely to each other, both filled with fear.

“Fuck it! If we die, we die. If we don’t die in here, we’ll die outside anyway. We owe so much money we can’t pay it back—only way out is betting our lives. Might as well take the gamble. What if we get lucky?”

“If we complete the Mission the System gave us—kill that Mini Boss Qian—we might be promoted straight to intermediate, maybe even High-level Players! What would we have to fear then?”

When the Monster Domain was upgraded, news of the new Mini Boss had spread. These two Players had heard it too—but only vaguely, and they hadn’t taken it seriously. Who knew the System would suddenly drag them into the domain?

And the moment they entered, the System issued them a special Mission: “Kill Qian.”

The Mission sounded difficult, but the rewards were so generous they could drive a person mad. Probably even killing the domain’s Boss Monster wouldn’t give you rewards of this level.

But compared to the infamous terrifying main Boss Monster, this new Mini Boss had little information available—it didn’t seem nearly as scary.

The Players receiving the Mission couldn’t help thinking: What if? What if it was an easy kill? What if they got lucky?

They’d heard all kinds of rumors about low-level Players who had stumbled into killing high-level anomaly in a domain and gotten massive rewards and promotions. They fantasized about such luck falling on them—like winning the lottery overnight. That kind of fantasy lured in all kinds of gamblers.

In the neighborhoods farther from Tianzi Building, other Players were also talking.

They had gathered together, hearts burning with excitement because of the special Missions handed out by the System. Every one of them had received the same Mission.

Kill “Qian”! Kill a Mini Boss and earn countless rewards! Hard-to-obtain enhancement points! Tons of Survival Points! High-level items! Special abilities!

“There’s so many of us—taking out one Mini Boss isn’t impossible!”

Even if Aberrant showed up to kill people, they could send someone to take the hit while the rest rushed to find “Qian.” Everyone attacking together—they could wear the little demon down! Even if they couldn’t get all the rewards, they’d still get a piece, right?

Greed overwhelmed fear and blinded most Players. It pushed them toward the den of the monster. Only a small number of Players, with a bit of sense still left in them, stayed far away from both the frenzied crowd and Tianzi Building, hiding alone.

Qian and her mama played hide-and-seek several more times, but she quickly grew bored of it. She realized Mama was dumb—she always took too long to find her, and she’d end up falling asleep while waiting.

With no one to play with, Qian started amusing herself with her little brothers and sisters.

They were slowly growing cuter, starting to look a little chubby and white.

Most importantly, they no longer behaved like untrainable puppies—no longer pouncing on her to bite her all the time.

In the past, every time she spanked them, they’d behave for a while. But soon they’d forget their fear and go back to gnawing on her hands and feet.

Now that they no longer bit her constantly, and weren’t as ugly as before, Qian found herself much more patient when playing with them.

She placed them one by one into a wooden tub and dragged it around as a game.

Aberrant, returning to rest, quietly watched the children playing together. They were engaged in such a simple game, yet their laughter rang out again and again.

For the first time, Aberrant Mama took the initiative to bring toys home for them.

They were the kind of indoor playground equipment you’d find at a daycare—small slides, seesaws, and tiny swings.

She didn’t know where it had been devoured—she simply appeared inside the “womb,” immediately drawing the attention of Qian and a group of infants.

With a loud shout, Qian was the first to climb up the elephant slide and slid down with a squelch.

A bunch of babies crawled over but couldn’t make it up the steps, gathering around the base of the slide instead. Each time Qian came sliding down, she’d knock a couple of them flying. The two siblings who tumbled off quickly crawled back over with grunts and effort, while others tottered against the slide, trying to stand.

Qian played on the slide; they gathered around it. When Qian ran to play on the seesaw, stretching her legs and swaying, they all relocated to surround the seesaw.

As for the teeter-totter… you couldn’t play it alone. Qian sat on one end, realized it wouldn’t work, and got off with a huff.

When Aberrant returned home again, she saw the eldest child half-dragging, half-carrying a baby up the slide, then sliding down together.

The baby in her arms let out soft giggles as they came down. The others cooed and reached out their arms to Qian, each hoping they’d be next to play with their big sister.

But Qian was worn out.

The moment she saw her mother appear, she let go of the baby in her arms and flung herself at Aberrant, hugging her leg tightly, scrunching up her face and rubbing against her with a pout.

“Mama, I’m so tired. I don’t want to play with them anymore.”

She made herself sound wronged, even let out a couple of fake sobs, and complained, “They all want me to play with them!”

They might not bite anymore, but they were still clingy.

With no other choice, Aberrant had to step in herself. She dragged the swing, slide, and seesaw all over to her, then used one arm to push her eldest on the swing, while picking up the babies one by one to put them on the slide, and using both hands to rock them on the seesaw.

Fortunately, she was big enough now, and her arms long enough to reach across everything. Otherwise, there’d be no way she could handle all this at once.

The new toys kept Qian content at home for a few days, so she had no idea how lively the Tianzi Building had become during that time, with Players pouring in one after another.

Of course, none of them made it back out.

At the end of the seventh day, only a few surviving Players returned—those who hadn’t taken part in the hunt.

While chaos unfolded inside the Monster Domain with Players going mad over the Mission, the real-world game forums remained just as fired up over Aberrant—if not more so—thanks to the surviving Players immediately posting the System Mission and its rewards online.

“Who exactly is this newly appeared Mini Boss Qian? Why did she suddenly show up, and why is killing her worth so much?”

“Who cares why? The System’s rewards aren’t fake. I’m definitely tempted!”

In an incredibly short time, the Monster Domain drew in a huge wave of desperate gamblers. Without time to think, hot-headed Players rushed in using Tickets.

Countless others were dragged in by the System, all landing in the Monster Domain together.

In the fifth week, the number of Players pulled into the Monster Domain had hit a record low. But by the seventh week, the total number—both those brought in by the System and those entering with Tickets—hit the System’s upper limit for the first time, surpassing a hundred.

Black Rabbit appeared on a rooftop near the Tianzi Building, still wearing his crude, makeshift black rabbit mask, twirling a small white rabbit mask in his hand.

More figures emerged behind him—teen boys and girls, each wearing a different black mask. When they saw Black Rabbit, one of them grinned and called out to him.

“Black Rabbit, you’re here to join the party too? What, are you tempted by the Mission rewards?”

To his fellow Pyramid members, Black Rabbit replied lazily, “Didn’t you all come in the same way as me—with Tickets? The System doesn’t even give us Missions.”

“Hey, that’s not the point. Sure, we Ticket Players don’t get Missions, but if we actually take down that Mini Boss, the System will definitely hand out fat rewards during settlement.”

The one with the smiling black mask added, “Besides, there are so many people involved this time—it’s bound to be fun. We’ll watch and maybe take a shot. It’s just a Mini Boss, not like we can’t kill it, right?”

Listening to the confident and faintly provocative tone, Black Rabbit let out a dramatic laugh, then suddenly stopped. He stared at them and drew out his voice: “I think… you better burn yourselves some funeral paper first.”

The one in the smiling mask glared fiercely in the direction Black Rabbit disappeared and cursed, “Acting like some big shot—just wait, I’ll cut him down one day!”

Black Rabbit moved from rooftop to rooftop, watching as more and more Players appeared on the streets below.

Members of the Association, the Judges Organization, well-known and obscure teams, gold rushers, mercenary Players… at a glance, it was a rare and bustling crowd.

Unlike the few unprepared Low-level Players dragged in with no ambition, the vast majority of Mid- and High-level Players—whether they entered via Ticket or were pulled in by the System—wore expressions tinged with excitement.

In the distance, Tianzi Building glowed a reddish-orange in the slanting light of the setting sun.

Black Rabbit spun the white rabbit mask in his hand, thinking: The hunt is about to begin.