Chapter 263: The Hardworking Worker, Bibi Dong
In the dimly lit chamber, the black-cloaked figure of Dai Yao stood beside Bibi Dong, his gaze steady while his peripheral vision caught sight of the withered remains on the stone throne, filling him with unease.
"Could that be Qian Xunji's corpse?" he wondered inwardly.
To stand in the very secret chamber he had only read about in the original story, facing the remains of the fallen Pope, stirred strange feelings. Here lay a Pope who had used countless tactics to bind the Holy Maiden to him, resorting ultimately to the most despicable means—one that had permanently twisted Bibi Dong's character.
Despite his disgust, Dai Yao couldn't ignore a pang of envy, as many had for Qian Xunji in his previous life. Bibi Dong's beauty was unparalleled, and though her heart was long dead to romance, there were those who would have eagerly traded places with Qian Xunji, if only for the briefest taste of her allure.
However, Dai Yao was well aware that after all she had endured, Bibi Dong's heart was impenetrable.
"God's Messenger, may I ask how we return to the real world from here?" Bibi Dong's voice cut through his thoughts. She wore a serene smile, exuding an unsettling calm.
With Dai Yao's guidance and a weapon at her disposal, making her way back to the secret chamber had been straightforward, particularly without needing to kill more zombies. Glancing at her, Dai Yao responded in a hoarse voice, "I'll send you back now."
He had realized that even with Bibi Dong's return to the chamber, it required him to activate the Chaos Lotus to bring her back to the real world; otherwise, she would remain trapped.
With a shift of his will, Bibi Dong's form gradually faded as she was transported back to reality.
Meanwhile, in the Pope's Palace's chamber, Bibi Dong, absent for three days, finally reappeared.
"Finally back! It feels wonderful to have my spirit power restored."
Relishing the surge of power, Bibi Dong sighed in relief. Those three days in the zombie world, without food, water, or spirit power, had pushed her to her limits. Struggling on equal footing with common mortals had left her bruised and exhausted, yet she hadn't blinked at the wounds she'd sustained, reflecting the extent of her resilience.
Noticing how her wounds were healing swiftly in the real world, she murmured to herself, "So injuries sustained in that world heal much faster here. I suppose it's because I'm merely a mortal in that world but a Titled Douluo here."
Her gaze shifted to the dagger in her hand, weighing it thoughtfully. "An old weapon, yet it served well. Without spirit power, I couldn't even use a spirit weapon there. I should prepare some weapons beforehand for next time. Maybe if I carry them in my hands, I'll be able to take them inside."
Bibi Dong's eyes gleamed with a hint of greed as she thought about the crystals. These valuable items, which could aid her in advancing her power, were exceedingly rare in the world, and she had long since developed resistance to all the potent elixirs available to her. But these crystals were different. If enough of them were collected, they could elevate her to the level of an unrivaled Douluo.
But as she thought of the mysterious black-robed man, a sense of irritation mixed with suspicion crept in.
"A god's messenger? I've never heard of such a role. Spirit Hall's overseers are usually Supreme Douluos, like Qian Daoliu or Bo Saixi—certainly not cloaked strangers."
A twisted smile crossed her beautiful face. "If he thinks he can just take ten thousand of those crystals from me, he's in for a surprise. Even a god won't succeed at that."
Her face darkened, voice dripping with menace, "Next time, I'll see what this 'god's messenger' is truly capable of. If I kill him, I can take back those ten thousand crystals. I'm sure I'll be able to pass the trial alone, without his help."
Her objective was clear: if she intended to enter the zombie world for three years, she'd have to prepare thoroughly and set her affairs in order at Spirit Hall to quell any dissent. No matter how much bitterness and hatred simmered within her, Bibi Dong knew she had to carefully strategize her next moves.
Years ago, the moment she left this chamber, the light vanished from her world. She despised Qian Xunji, resented Yu Xiaogang, detested her child, loathed everyone, and held an even deeper disdain for herself. Her heart had since grown twisted, dark, and fanatical; she would sacrifice anything for her goals.
She didn't revere any gods—to her, even gods were nothing more than powerful humans, tools to be used to achieve her own ends. If she had to kill the messenger and lose her shot at divinity, she'd be undeterred; once she had those twenty thousand crystals, she could seek another god's inheritance if needed.
Bibi Dong's resolve was firm—only what she held in her hands was hers.
Dai Yao slowly awoke to the sound of the waterfall roaring nearby, his vision gradually clearing until he saw the serene face of Zhu Zhuqing asleep beside his bed, her head resting on her folded arms.
The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery glow over her, a sight that warmed his heart. Smiling, he gently brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face, inadvertently waking her.
"Yao-ge, you're awake!" Zhu Zhuqing's surprise quickly turned to joy as she looked up at him.
"Are you okay? You slept for so long," she asked with concern.
Dai Yao looked at her with warmth and reassurance, captivated by her elegance and care, and replied, "It's alright, don't worry. This is a special kind of cultivation, and it might happen again in the future."
"Alright." Zhu Zhuqing trusted him implicitly, her time at his side having built an unshakeable bond of faith. Together, in the comfort of the waterfall's thunderous roar, they both felt a sense of peace and familiarity.
The next day, Bibi Dong's sudden reappearance quelled the murmurings that had begun to rise within Spirit Hall. When the bloody heads of several red-robed bishops were displayed for all to see, the dissenters were struck silent, paralyzed with fear.
Dai Yao, too, had observed the severed heads of three men he'd recently chatted with, now cold and lifeless. It left him with a stark realization of Spirit Hall's ruthless internal politics and Bibi Dong's swift, merciless methods.
These weren't just any high-ranking officials—two of them were Spirit Saints, and one was a Spirit Douluo, the pinnacle of power in many duchies—yet Bibi Dong had easily struck them down.
The depth of her power and unyielding stance sent chills through Dai Yao. It was clearer than ever that his goal now was to stay beneath her notice and focus on building his own strength. If he remained loyal to Bibi Dong's authority, his future would be secure.
Every time he recalled her high and mighty presence, now relegated to toiling for him in the zombie world, working hard for the crystals he would collect, Dai Yao couldn't suppress a feeling of satisfaction. The resentment he'd once felt at her harsh demands was now greatly alleviated.
Days slipped by in a routine of careful planning, and the end of the week drew near. Feng Wutong was due to finish her training with Green Luan Douluo, and the next day she would finally be able to join them in their new home.
With calm resolve, Dai Yao activated the Chaos Lotus once again, returning to the zombie world. Today was another day to collect his fee… or rather, his crystals.
After several days of intense cultivation, Dai Yao had successfully broken through to the forty-sixth level. Now, he planned to pause and consolidate his foundation before absorbing more crystals for further advancement. Of the crystals he'd amassed, over fifty-three remained after spending a dozen or so. Yet a new problem gnawed at him—what to do with the growing surplus? If he shared them with Zhu Zhuqing and the others, the spike in their cultivation speed would surely attract the attention of their Titled Douluo mentors. That sort of suspicion could only spell trouble.
Oddly enough, despite his rapid progress and achievements, Dai Yao had yet to be assigned a teacher. He couldn't help but wonder if Bibi Dong had something unusual planned.
Shaking off these thoughts, he donned his black robe and mask, double-checking every detail to ensure his identity remained concealed. With Bibi Dong's calculating nature, he couldn't afford the slightest misstep.
Some time later, Dai Yao found Bibi Dong at their usual meeting place, looking slightly worse for wear after what had clearly been a taxing battle. Today, she wore a loose robe rather than her usual regal, form-fitting purple gown, exuding an allure reminiscent of a ripe peach. Dai Yao felt a tug of attraction at the sight, but he quickly reined himself in. In Bibi Dong's eyes, his ability to enter the Rakshasa God's trial was a matter of life and death—one slip, and he'd lose his life for sure.
"Bearer of the God's legacy, it's time to turn over your crystals," he said in a rasping tone, his voice muffled by the mask.
Bibi Dong offered a slight smile—one she'd perfected over the past two decades. Her heart, once so capable of genuine feeling, had long since hidden behind this facade. Now, she could barely tell whether her smile was real or fake.
Looking at the figure before her, veiled in black, a glint of icy determination crossed her eyes. She had scraped together eighteen crystals after a day's grueling effort, yet she had to surrender ten to this so-called "divine messenger."
Today, she'd put an end to it.
Drawing out ten crystals, she held them out, inching ever closer to the black-robed figure as she spoke sweetly, "Here you are, my lord, today's crystals."
But then she suddenly paused, her gaze fixed on something behind him as if alarmed. She feigned fear, a move that piqued Dai Yao's curiosity, prompting him to glance back.
The instant he turned, she struck.
A sharp whistling split the air as her dagger streaked toward him, aiming for his throat with lethal precision. A lifetime of survival and training took over; without a second thought, he instinctively rolled backward into the undergrowth, evading the strike.
Yet Bibi Dong was unrelenting, each subsequent blow aimed mercilessly at his vital points, her face alive with crazed determination. She was in no mood to blindly trust a masked figure's hollow promises.
Dai Yao found himself completely on the defensive, overwhelmed by her relentless assault. It was his first taste of the notorious prowess that had earned Bibi Dong the title of "Killer of the Slaughter City." His limited experience in battle was no match for her precision-honed savagery, and he fought down a wave of anger, utterly bewildered by her sudden wrath.
His black robe, torn in multiple places, barely shielded his identity. Realizing his life might well be at stake, he steeled himself. His eyes flashed with cold determination as he tapped into the scant spirit power he could use in this realm.
With a sharp crack, his spirit energy burst outward in a shockwave, knocking Bibi Dong back against a tree, where she slumped momentarily, a trickle of blood at her lips. Her eyes widened in shock.
"This… the spirit power he used… in the trial?" she thought, horrified. The difference between a spirit master and a mortal was a chasm she'd just had the misfortune to encounter firsthand.
Before she could recover, Dai Yao quickly disarmed her, pinning her arms behind her back and pressing her against the tree, holding her firmly in place. Despite his advantage, he took no pleasure in his victory. Bibi Dong's eyes still radiated a terrifying, unyielding intensity.
For a moment, he was tempted to kill her, to rid the world of someone who could so easily destroy it in the future. But he held back. Her death would throw the plot into disarray and, without the advantage of foreknowledge, many precious opportunities could be lost. Besides, without her leadership, Spirit Hall would flounder, and if Hu Liena were to fall for Tang San as in the original tale, where would that leave him?
As his grip on her arms tightened, Dai Yao buried his murderous intent, knowing he needed her alive. His time in the Cold Palace had taught him to mask his emotions, and with his face hidden behind a mask, not even Bibi Dong could discern his thoughts.
Sliding her dagger back into his robe, he released her. To her astonishment, he spoke again, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Offending a divine messenger increases the trial's difficulty. Now, you must kill 25,000 zombies within three years and deliver 15,000 crystals. The remaining 10,000 are yours to keep."
Bibi Dong massaged her wrists where he'd held her, her serene smile returning as if the murderous gleam in her eyes had never existed.
"I accept," she said lightly.
Although she was mad enough to risk everything, she wasn't foolish. She knew she was outmatched, and having lost, she could concede—at least for now.
The black-robed man continued, "Bearer of the God's legacy, there's no need for such suspicion. To put it in terms you'll understand, I am merely a puppet, assigned to guide you through the god's trial. Once you assume the Rakshasa God's position, I will serve you."
His robotic tone held no inflection, but Dai Yao hoped the explanation would pacify her. And it seemed to work. Bibi Dong, having already plotted to kill him, realized he would have done the same had he been anything more than a servant. His mechanical speech and demeanor were perhaps not deception but evidence of his artificial role.
Still, her anger simmered at the added difficulty of her trial. She had gambled, and it had backfired spectacularly, leaving her with a doubled target.
"Three strikes," he continued. "You have three opportunities to offend me. After the third, you'll be eliminated. Each time you offend, the trial will increase in difficulty. The crystals I claim are not for me—they are an offering to the divine, ensuring the trial continues."
His voice dropped, cold and unwavering. "The more effort you put in, the more sweat you shed, the sooner you'll ascend. When the world sees a god, when they revere you, that god will be you. Even immortality could be within your reach."
At his words, Bibi Dong's breath quickened, but she quickly caught herself, brow furrowing as she listened to his promises. It sounded all too much like the kind of speech she'd give to Spirit Hall's followers to inspire them to loyalty and sacrifice.
Regardless, the path ahead was now set—Bibi Dong's future would be that of a laborer, bound to the grueling tasks of the god's trial.
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Canserbero10