You've been ruined by games all your life!

Chapter 31 Blessed Heavenly Venerable of the Mysterious Yellow (Seeking monthly votes and continued reading)
Chen Lai's first week on "Beautiful Friend" was peaceful.

Every morning he reads the newspaper, spending several Su to buy different newspapers, trying to discern the differences in this world from between the lines. But strangely, this world is just a normal alien world, where people wage war with guns, men and women fall in love and have affairs, the parliament is noisy, and soldiers colonize Africa.

He would occasionally visit the Deep Sea Forum to see if there were any posts about dungeons. Apart from one or two posts showing off scenery or sharing his experiences in African colonization, no extraordinary powers appeared.

This is strange. The vortex formed by "Bel Friend" is only slightly smaller than that of "Shibuya Incident". From any perspective, it shouldn't be so calm. There must be some unknown force here, just hidden very deeply.

The weekend was the agreed meeting time for Zhang Long, Chen Lai, and Jue Xiong Hu. They gathered together and sat in the "American" café, drinking beer.

"Seriously, is it necessary? Any information can be conveyed through the friends interface."

The fierce tiger, his sleeves stained with ink from lead type, looked listless. He hadn't been able to interact with his viewers in the live stream lately—even though there weren't many viewers to begin with.

"You don't understand, this is more ritualistic... Enter the game, enjoy the game, and live every second in the game as if it were the last second of your life, so you won't feel like you've lost out."

Zhang Long—a reporter for the Life Daily under the pseudonym Alex—was currently enjoying a rye beer, impeccably dressed. To be honest, this didn't suit his status. Middle-class people like him would usually go to the Mussal Ballroom, Monsau Park, or at the very least, the Shepherdess Entertainment Hall!

Chen Lai knew that Zhang Long was reminding him that every game was actually a real life, and this world was also real. He could enjoy his journey in another world, but he had to be ruthless when necessary.

After all, they are players, and players don't care about martial ethics. As long as they can get the "unique" item, it's worth it no matter what.

"Alright, are there any details worth noting? I haven't gained much here at the fencing hall. Apart from the occasional tip from a wealthy lady, there's really nothing to report."

"I haven't heard anything from my side either. I'm getting a headache from writing my daily notes on my service in Africa. Walter is generous with the money, but I can't take it with me." The Fierce Tiger lay on the table, looking rather bored.

"And you?" Chen looked at Zhang Long.

"I've actually made some progress," Zhang Long said calmly, adjusting his monocle.
"While I was organizing the submissions for the religion section, I stumbled upon something unusual."

As he spoke, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. It looked like some kind of formation was carved on it, with candles placed at the four corners of the diamond shape. The names carved on three of the corners were illegible, but the Chinese characters written on the last corner were simple and straightforward.

“Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianzun…” Chen Lai squinted, pointed to the words on the paper, and read out His name.

The next moment, he was startled and horrified.

Damn it! What beautiful friend? Isn't this Lord of Mysteries?

But that doesn't make sense. If this is the world of the Lord of Mysteries, then what about the Seven Great Churches of Gods? He's seen the map of this world before; it's a familiar world map, and there's no Backlund in it.

"Who commissioned this transfer ceremony?"

Chen looked at Zhang Long, his tone somewhat urgent. He probably knew where the power of this instance came from, and he also knew why no extraordinary power could be seen in daily life!
Damn, Cthulhu is inserted into a classic masterpiece? Is this author a poet?

"You know this is a luck-changing ceremony? York, you're really knowledgeable. I think you'd be a good choice to become a consultant at the Dumpling Academy."

Zhang Long looked at Chen Lai with some surprise. He hadn't even mentioned the name of the ceremony yet, but Chen Lai had already guessed it, which showed that he had real skills. "Tell me quickly, tell me quickly," Chen Lai urged impatiently, tapping his cane irritably on the table leg.

"OK, OK, actually I don't know where this came from. It should be from some occult enthusiast... uh, it's unsigned, and the painting is so simple that the newspaper just threw it away when they were screening submissions, which is how I managed to snag it."

Zhang Long shrugged and pushed the unfinished rye beer away a bit; it really didn't taste good.

"That's all the intelligence I have. I haven't found anything else besides this thing. This instance is stranger than any I've ever seen. It has power but doesn't reveal it. The logic of the entire world is so normal... This in itself is an anomaly."

Zhang Long analyzed the situation from the perspective of a seasoned money-grubber, pushing the paper with the abstract array drawn on it to Chen Lai as he did so, and then stood up.

"If you know something, then go for it. Being a player means daring to try. How can you expect to win big if you don't try?"

"Go ahead, and remember to 'V' me 50 when you make money, to buy Crazy Thursday."

As they were talking, Zhang Long stood up, straightened his clothes, took out a few francs from his pocket, placed them on the table, and then left the cafe.

"I don't know about other things, Brother Weilong, but I know you're capable. I could tell from the Shibuya incident... I helped you flip through the newspapers for a week. Even if I didn't do anything great, I still put in the effort. I'm not good at sweet talk, just give me V50 on Thursday."

The fierce tiger of the auditorium also stood up and strode away. He had recently become obsessed with nighttime reviews of Parisian brothels, which viewers loved to watch. Today was Sunday, so he could broadcast more of what everyone liked.

After the two left, Chen Lai, carrying the abstract painting, returned to his second-floor apartment on Rue de la Labor with a heavy heart. Downstairs, the poor couple was arguing again, and their son was playing polo alone on the street... a popular solo game in Paris.

He opened the door and went into the room. After rummaging through the drawers and cupboards, he found a few potatoes and some black bread. Chen Lai went into the bathroom with a kerosene lamp and food in his hand. In those days, France was almost electrified. Except for people from the provinces who couldn't afford to eat, who still used candles?
He took a deep breath, placed the kerosene lamp at the four corners of the diamond, put the food in the center, and then took his first step.

"Fusheng Xuanhuang Immortal Lord."

There was no response, so he took a second step, silently chanting:

"Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianjun."

There was still no response. At this moment, he took his third step, and the Chinese name "Zhou Mingrui" involuntarily appeared in his mind.

"The God of Blessing and Prosperity Xuanhuang."

Having reached this point, Chen Lai was ready, so he took the final step and called out the clearest name on the piece of paper.

"Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianzun."

The next second, his star twinkled, and Zhou Mingrui, who was light-years away, sensed it and brought up this special "tarot card".

(End of this chapter)