Chapter 537 - 11: Entering the Nightmare World
A dark, damp corner of the city, far more unbearable than the main sewer tunnel from before.
The narrow passage was barely wide enough for one person to pass through, hunched over.
Underfoot was viscous, greasy black sludge, mixed with unidentifiable filth. Every step produced a SQUELCH, SQUELCH sound.
The walls were caked with thick mold and unknown slime. The air was filled with the heavy stench of ammonia, the sour reek of fermented excrement, and the smell of a rotting corpse.
Ron walked at the very front, holding an oil lamp in one hand and tightly covering his mouth and nose with the other. His brows were knitted into a knot, and he breathed with extreme caution.
Uncle Scar followed close behind. His injured arm was crudely splinted with a torn strip of cloth and slung across his chest, making his movements somewhat clumsy. With every step, his boots inevitably sank deep into the filth, pulling up a string of nauseating gunk when withdrawn.
As for Murphy, he walked calmly at the very back.
He still wore the same simple, old-fashioned black long robe, his ink-black hair draped over his shoulders.
The most striking contrast to his surroundings was how immaculate he was.
The viscous, blackening sludge underfoot, the foul, slimy strands dripping from the walls, and even the turbid, visible dust particles floating in the air—all of it passed through his body without any hindrance.
It was as if he were walking in a separate, parallel world that never intersected with this filthy reality.
Ron glanced back occasionally, and each time he saw Murphy’s spotless figure moving leisurely through such an environment, his heart filled with ever-growing reverence.
Suddenly, Murphy, walking at the rear, stopped without any warning.
His head was slightly bowed, a few strands of black hair falling across his forehead and obscuring his expression. He was slowly raising one hand, his fingertips just barely brushing his lower lip.
Ahead, Ron, who had been pressing forward, habitually glanced back and saw that Murphy had stopped.
"S-Sir?" Ron’s voice trembled uncontrollably. "What is it? D-did something happen?"
"S-Sir?" Uncle Scar also spun around, his murky eyes instantly filling with tension and panic. His gaze swept rapidly over Murphy and the dim passage ahead and behind. "Are... are you all right? Did you find something wrong?"
His muscles tensed, and his fingers were already reaching for the dagger hidden at his waist.
But Murphy didn’t answer. The silence lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like a century.
Just as the foul air became so oppressive that Ron and Uncle Scar could barely breathe, Murphy finally lowered the hand that was touching his lips.
He looked up, his calm, pitch-black eyes as bottomless as ever in the dim light.
"It’s nothing. Keep moving."
With that, he resumed walking, as if that brief pause had been nothing more than a momentary rest.
Ron and Uncle Scar exchanged a look, each seeing the same mix of shock and uncertainty in the other’s eyes.
Uncle Scar opened his mouth, as if to ask another question, but in the end, he just swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he said in a low voice, "Yes, sir."
Ron quickly turned back around, but the hand holding the oil lamp couldn’t stop its slight trembling.
He took a deep breath. Although he still felt uneasy, he forced himself to focus and press forward.
After they had walked on in silence for a while longer, Ron looked back again. His gaze once more fell on the figure behind him who walked through the filth yet remained completely spotless.
He licked his chapped lips. He felt somewhat reassured, yet a sliver of curiosity also welled up inside him. "S-Sir..." he began cautiously, "c-can I ask you a question?"
Hearing this, Uncle Scar immediately shot Ron a glare filled with warning, terrified the thoughtless kid would anger him.
Murphy, however, didn’t seem to mind. "Ask," he said calmly.
Emboldened by the permission, Ron continued, "Sir, why... why doesn’t any of this filth touch you? We’ve been walking this whole time and we’re practically covered in mud, but you... even the soles of your shoes are clean! How... how is that possible?"
Although Uncle Scar had just glared at Ron, he now pricked up his ears as well.
Hearing this, Murphy said:
"An Immortal’s form is inherently pure. External filth cannot touch it; internal clarity cannot be obscured. How could dust and dirt dare approach my Dao Body?"
Uncle Scar and Ron only half-understood his words.
The terms "Immortal," "Dao Body," and "inherently pure" were foreign and obscure to them.
They were truly beyond their comprehension.
The reverence in Ron’s eyes deepened. He murmured, "An... an Immortal? Untouched by dust... so that’s how it is..."
"Let’s go," Uncle Scar, equally baffled, suppressed the chaotic thoughts in his mind and urged Ron on in a raspy voice. "Stop wasting time. The important thing is to get out of this area."
...
「In a spacious, brightly lit office.」
Cheris sat in a large swivel chair, her fingertips lightly tracing her own lips. Her large, jade-green eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were carefully savoring every subtle sensation of that brief touch.
"Mmm..." she purred, drawing out the sound. "Soft... cool... I guess... that’s it? Nothing that special. Should we... try it again? Maybe it’ll feel different the second time?"
Before her words had even faded, the invisible Force Field appeared again without warning, like an unseen wall, shoving violently at Murphy from behind!
Murphy’s eyes flickered. His body subconsciously tried to move sideways to evade the push.
However, the Force Field seemed to be alive, instantly adjusting to his movement. It sealed off his escape route and steadily pushed him toward Cheris.
At the same time, Cheris’s slender, pale hand shot out again like a bolt of lightning, grabbing the front of Murphy’s black robe and yanking him toward her!
The distance between them closed in an instant, until they were close enough to feel each other’s breath.
Cheris tilted up her childish face, her jade eyes twinkling with cunning and amusement, a sweet smile playing on her lips.
"I’m going to kiss you now..."
Her sweet-scented breath washed over Murphy’s chin.
Murphy’s pitch-black eyes watched her calmly. He neither resisted nor complied.
Cheris slowly lowered her head, inching closer...
Just as her lips were about to touch Murphy’s again, she suddenly snapped her head up, pulled back, and burst into a peal of laughter as crisp and clear as a Silver Bell.
"Hahaha... Just kidding!"
She let go of Murphy’s collar and leaned back into her chair. Kicking up one leg, she dangled a bare foot with toenails painted with Black Armor, her jade eyes curving into crescents.
"Were you looking forward to it? It is a reward from your master for good behavior, after all~"
Her tone shifted, her small face taking on an expression of serious thought as she tapped her chin with a finger. "But, you know, rewards aren’t something to be given out so casually. If they’re too easy to get, wouldn’t my little toy get cocky and stop taking his master seriously?"
Murphy, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke, his voice as calm and steady as ever. "I am not your toy. And you are not my master."
Hearing this, Cheris didn’t get angry at all. On the contrary, her jade eyes suddenly lit up.
She clapped her hands excitedly and floated up from her chair again, circling lightly around Murphy with a smug "I totally get it" smile on her face.
"Aha! I get it, I get it! ’Reverse role-play,’ right? Being too submissive and obedient is so boring. It lacks challenge and dramatic tension!"
She stopped in front of Murphy, her hands behind her back, and leaned forward slightly. Her jade eyes shone with a cunning, intelligent light.
"So, your strategy is to resist on the surface, playing the part of an ’independent individual who is not a toy.’ Meanwhile, I play the part of... hmm, maybe a ’collaborator’ or a ’guide’ instead of a ’master’? But in reality, the fundamental nature of the game hasn’t changed. You’re still my toy, and I’m still your master. It’s just that this game has become much more fun and interesting because of your ’reverse role-play’! Am I right or am I right?"
Murphy: ?????
Cheris completely ignored his reaction and announced, as if to herself:
"Since you need to earn your rewards, how about this! With your power, if you go to the Nightmare World, you should be able to get me lots of interesting things, right?"
As she spoke, she extended her slender index finger, its nail painted black, and casually drew a complex arc in the air before her.
As her fingertip moved, the light in the office suddenly distorted. Dazzling silver specks of light materialized from thin air, following the path of her finger, and rapidly constructed an oval portal. Its edges rippled with silvery Energy, like waves on water.
Inside the portal was a hazy, ever-shifting tableau of light and shadow. Fragments of twisted, bizarre scenes could be vaguely seen flashing past—countless interwoven vortexes of color, and what seemed to be unnamable shadows flitting across the edges.
She tilted her head, a sweet, innocent smile blooming on her face.
"Go on, my dear toy. Go to the Nightmare World and bring me back tributes that will satisfy and surprise me. When that time comes~"
She drew out her words. "Maybe, just maybe, I’ll really consider giving you a more... substantial reward. Something you can really look forward to?"
The moment her voice fell, she gave Murphy no time to respond or prepare.
Without any warning, Cheris’s bare foot, with its black-polished toenails, suddenly lashed out in a kick!
The tip of her foot struck Murphy squarely in the side of his waist.
At the same time, the invisible Force Field that had been faintly enveloping Murphy suddenly surged with power. It coordinated with the kick, acting like two giant, invisible hands—one pushing, one sending him flying.
Under this combined force, Murphy’s body was completely powerless to resist, and he was sent flying straight toward the shimmering, oval portal.
The instant his body touched the silver Energy at the portal’s edge, he seemed to melt into the distorted light and shadow, without causing so much as a single ripple.
After devouring Murphy, the silver light at the edge of the oval portal flickered a few times, then quickly dimmed, contracted, and finally vanished into the air without a sound, as if it had never existed.
Cheris hovered in mid-air, glancing down at the foot that had just committed the deed. Its black toenails gleamed in the sunlight.
She nodded in satisfaction. A flicker of anticipation and cunning crossed her jade eyes as she murmured to herself:
"Don’t disappoint me, my new toy... The Nightmare World should give a rare guest like you a warm welcome, don’t you think?"
"Right, Cecilia?"