Chapter 198: Aberrant Mama

Of all the worlds Qian had visited, the one where Aberrant resided was the easiest to reach using the dice.

That world had been gradually merging with the Horror Realm, and nearly everyone there lived under the oppressive weight of the Survival System.

Qian suspected that this Survival System was deeply connected to the Conquest System she once possessed.

Simply put, she believed the two Systems likely originated from the same organization—just different departments, with different functions and hierarchies.

Because of that, the Divine Artifact Dice, which had devoured two Conquest Systems, could easily send her to the world governed by the Survival System.

At six years old, just starting elementary school, Qian returned to this world after many years.

Though she was in a different body, she wasn’t particularly worried. No matter how many bodies she’d changed, the red mark around her left wrist remained.

That mark had been left by Aberrant Mama, who had tied her hair around Qian’s wrist in this world.

As long as that mark was there, even if Aberrant Mama didn’t recognize her, she probably wouldn’t hurt her. And if things went south, she still had the dice—she could bail instantly.

Then she could just come back again. A few more visits, and Aberrant Mama would get used to her!

With her little backpack slung over her shoulders, Qian gave herself a pep talk and stepped onto the stairs of the Tianzi Building.

When she’d left last time, the Aberrant Domain had just been upgraded to SSS. She hadn’t seen the changes inside the domain.

Now, as she looked around, the Tianzi Building didn’t seem all that different.

At least, not on the surface.

Qian pushed open the nearest door and peeked inside. Instead of the familiar old room with worn-out furniture, she found herself staring into a shopping mall.

The floor beneath her feet gleamed with the polished tiles of a mall, and above her stretched multiple stories of open space.

An escalator moved slowly in the distance, and she could see signs for clothing stores, toy shops, even a bookstore.

Qian closed the ordinary-looking door and opened another.

This one didn’t lead to the messy room full of clothes and beds she remembered either. Instead, it opened into a spacious courtyard, much like the kindergarten she used to attend, complete with children’s play equipment.

The next door led to an empty corridor lined with chairs. A sign reading “Psychology Department” hung by the door, along with photos of several doctors.

It was a floor from some hospital.

The upgraded SSS Tianzi Building had become a spatially distorted labyrinth—every door now led to a different place.

Qian stopped opening doors and ran up to the fourth floor. She carefully pushed open the door to Room 414 and peeked inside.

This was the only room in the Tianzi Building that hadn’t changed. It still looked the same, shelves piled high, a small altar with a statue of Guanyin, and long-expired instant noodles and biscuits.

Qian rushed to the wall, but the womb-like room behind it was gone.

She sat on the second-floor railing, fiddling with the dangling bougainvillea vines, watching the sun slowly set over the Aberrant Domain.

What puzzled her was how quiet everything was. She’d waited here so long, yet sensed no movement from the ghosts in the Tianzi Building, nor any sign of humans in the domain. Everything was eerily still.

That silence lasted until the very last sliver of light disappeared.

Then, all at once, the world turned upside down.

Buildings of all shapes and sizes sprouted like grotesque limbs from all six sides of the Tianzi Building.

Qian looked up at the sky—half of it was a mall, the other half a hospital. Beneath her feet wasn’t the foundation of the Tianzi Building, but an upside-down office tower and a park.

In this topsy-turvy, surreal domain, countless bizarre and twisted creatures began to manifest out of thin air.

Gray silhouettes clung to the corridor walls, drooling as they stared at Qian. Towering black shadows reached down from the sky, trying to grab her. Even the ground beneath her feet writhed with mouths, all trying to devour her toes.

Qian: “…”

She frowned, gripping the Divine Artifact Dice, just about to make her escape—when all the monsters froze.

A swarm of infants crawled out from every corner, giggling with that eerie, classic horror-movie laugh.

But it wasn’t the Ghost Infants that the monsters feared—it was the domain boss, Aberrant, who followed behind them.

In a rustling hush, a tightly closed human face emerged from the corridor wall before Qian.

The beautiful face, the long black hair, and the many arms behind her—it was exactly as Qian remembered.

Surrounded by giggling, sharp-toothed Ghost Infants, Aberrant materialized before her.

Qian didn’t back away. Instead, she stepped forward and held out her left hand to Aberrant.

Aberrant was so tall, she had to bend down to cradle Qian’s hand. She lowered her head and gently sniffed Qian’s wrist.

Then she opened her eyes, and two lines of blood-tears slowly slid down her cheeks.

Seeing that she wasn’t being attacked, Qian smiled in relief, took two steps forward, and hugged Aberrant Mama’s leg tightly, looking up and calling out, “Mama!”

The Aberrant Domain at night was a chaotic cacophony of monsters, but the Tianzi Building at its heart remained eerily quiet. Now, only Aberrant and the Ghost Infants lived there.

But today, even the Tianzi Building had grown noisy.

“Ahhh! Mama they’re trying to bite me!” Qian screamed.

Moments later, the sound of crying babies echoed through the halls.

Qian clung to Aberrant Mama like a tail, following her wherever she went.

The crawling infants on the walls and floors kept trying to pounce on her, aiming for her dress, her shoes, her sleeves.

“Mama, do you remember me? You do, right? I’m Qian!”

“Qian.”

“Mama, what happened to this place? Are there no more players coming here now?”

“Very few. I don’t need food anymore.”

Aberrant kept her eyes on the child clinging to her, listening to her chatter.

It was such a familiar feeling—her lost child had been just as noisy.

She was slowly realizing that the child who had gone missing had finally returned.

When her most talkative child vanished from this place, she had tried to find her, reaching out far and wide.

Those malls, hospitals, and office buildings—she’d grabbed them while searching for her child, and they had slowly become part of the Tianzi Building.

“You came back,” Aberrant finally said, realizing that the lost child had found her way home.

Her scent had changed, but the mark she’d left on her was still there.

Qian was moved as Aberrant Mama pulled her into a tight embrace—four arms wrapped around her, and another gently stroked her head.

If the strength of the hug was any measure of how excited and how much she’d been missed, then Aberrant Mama must have been very excited—and missed her terribly.

“There’s so, so many snacks. All your favorite foods.”

Qian sat on a little stool, watching as Aberrant Mama brought over an enormous pile of snacks, both hands full, stacking them in front of her.

She even remembered Qian’s favorite drink, poked a straw into the yogurt, and handed it over.

“There’s a lot of food you like in that building.”

“Aberrant” referred to that mall. The reason she dragged the entire mall into her domain and kept it there was, in part, because of Qian.

Same with that amusement park—she remembered the child liked playing with those big rides.

She believed that as long as she gathered everything the child loved and brought it home, the child would come back.

“Thank you, Mama!” Qian blinked rapidly, forcing her tears back.

No matter which world she was in, she could always feel so much love. That love made her fearless.

After that first visit, Qian started dropping by all the time.

To see her mama—or to catch up on homework.

Since time flowed differently here than in her own world, whenever she was in a panic with deadlines looming, she’d rush in with her books and assignments, plop down on the little stool in the hallway, and bury herself in work.

As she sat there doing homework, a bunch of baby siblings who could smell her scent would crawl over and start bothering her.

Qian, scribbling furiously, tolerated them pulling her hair and tugging at her clothes. But when they started grabbing at her homework, she couldn’t take it anymore and yelled, “Mom! They’re tearing up my homework!”

Aberrant Mama came over and scooped up the troublesome little ones.

To protect her eldest as she scrambled to finish her assignments, Aberrant Mama sat beside her, keeping watch.

Qian thought Aberrant Mama must be bored just sitting there, so she decided to teach her how to knit.

She’d found the yarn in that mall—perfect as a toy to help Aberrant Mama pass the time.

To Qian’s surprise, Aberrant Mama really enjoyed crafting. With all those hands, it was a major advantage.

Despite Qian being a total amateur and a terrible teacher, Aberrant Mama quickly taught herself how to knit.

Before long, not only did Qian have a pile of hand-knit clothes, but the naked little Ghost Infants crawling around were also dressed in colorful yarn outfits.

The bright, mismatched sweaters made them look a lot less creepy.

Seeing how much she liked crafts, Qian often brought her more supplies from her world—basket-weaving cords, ultra-light clay, cross-stitch kits, and more.

One time, Qian brought home a giant cross-stitch piece, three meters wide and one and a half meters tall. It shocked her parents. That cross-stitch, completed by Aberrant Mama, ended up hanging in their living room ever since.

Later, when Qian began her cultivation training in another world and started practicing calligraphy, she brought brushes and ink to Aberrant Mama’s place to practice.

It didn’t take long before Aberrant Mama became a Calligraphy Venerable Master.

It all started because Qian wanted to slack off. She cupped her cheeks and begged Aberrant Mama to help copy her cultivation homework. After all, Mama had so many hands—perfect for cramming.

The terrifying domain boss of the Aberrant Domain, upon her first encounter with calligraphy, became completely hooked.

When Qian handed in the homework Mama had copied for her, she was all smiles. But the next time she came back, she found that the Tianzi Building was covered in calligraphy.

The yellowing walls, once filled with Qian’s old doodles, were now lined with bold, flowing ink characters—all written by Aberrant Mama.

If players still dared to enter the Tianzi Building now, they might not find it so scary anymore.

No—actually, they’d be even more terrified.

Since the Aberrant Domain had been upgraded to a SSS-level domain, the Survival System no longer issued missions there. Still, a few thrill-seeking players used special tickets to teleport in, hoping to score rare items.

That day, Qian was once again doing homework here. Halfway through, she grabbed a nearby bougainvillea and clutched her head in agony.

“Why is there so much homework?! Damn math! How do you even solve this? Ugh, forget it, I’ll skip it and look at something else.”

“Ugh, I haven’t even read this book on summoning magic circles, and I haven’t done my potion homework either. I didn’t bring the ingredients—how am I supposed to mix potions? Whatever, I’ll do it next time.”

“Ugh, and I still have to practice sword flight. I can already fly with a magic wand—why do I still have to learn sword riding?!”

“I don’t want to live anymore…”

She tossed her pen aside, tore open a bag of snacks, and crunched on some chips.

Aberrant Mama sat beside her, working on a cross-stitch, long since used to Qian’s mid-homework breakdowns and ignoring her muttered complaints.

That was when those players arrived.

They had assumed that Aberrants rarely appeared during the day. After sneaking into the heart of the Tianzi Building with great effort, their excitement was quickly doused.

The ink-covered walls made them tremble with fear, wondering if they’d fallen into some kind of hallucination.

Then they looked up—and saw a girl in a school uniform, chewing on her pen and doing homework inside the Tianzi Building. And the terrifying Aberrant? She was sitting beside her… doing cross-stitch.

Cross-stitch? An Aberrant?

They froze like they’d seen a ghost. Qian spotted them and hesitated before greeting them.

“Hey, any of you good at math?”

None of them answered. They turned and bolted.

Aberrant Mama glanced at her embroidery, then at the fleeing players, hesitated for a moment—but didn’t chase them.

She was almost done. She couldn’t stop now.

After that, who knows how many more strange rumors began to circulate about the Aberrant Domain. Qian had no idea.

She finished her homework, plucked a bougainvillea blossom and tucked it into her pocket, said goodbye to Aberrant Mama, and left, rubbing her sore neck and wrists.

“Mama, I’ll come back in a couple of days.”