Chapter 502: My Fateful Life at the Bottom of Poverty
Chapter 502: My Fateful Life at the Bottom of Poverty
In the star realm cage.
Zuo Meng adjusted his methods using the chaos within the world and the ‘escape experience’ provided by Peng Zu, modifying them to fit this real world. After failing over two hundred thousand times, he finally managed to sneak into the Main World.
“I’ve infiltrated, but how do I use this ink puddle?”
Zuo Meng stared at the pool of ink he’d smuggled in, racking his brain. He tried applying his creation techniques.
Inside the real world’s building.
The ink puddle slowly rose under Zuo Meng’s control, standing like a shadow. He attempted to shape it into a human form, but the real world’s suppression and distance caused it to warp into a half-formed monster.
Some cartoon villain from ancient times?
Memories of an old animated series flashed in Zuo Meng’s mind—his creator’s rank let him recall every detail of his past.
“Hrrk…”
No vocal cords either!
The creature could only rasp like a beast. Zuo Meng gave up. At least he’d gotten inside.
The third real world’s suppression was brutal, rejecting any foreign rules. It was like another nation’s laws having no power here. This twisted ink figure was already a loophole-exploiting miracle—he couldn’t waste it.
*Creak…*
While Zuo Meng adjusted to his new form, a screech came from the wall. He turned to see a three-meter-tall monster—a headless blob of liquid with ten knife-like claws. Above it floated a blood-red ‘Fateful Death’ character.
Fateful Death. Beings here couldn’t see it, but Zuo Meng’s creator status let him perceive it instantly.
*Do locals all look this deranged?*
His worries about blending in vanished. At least he had limbs. This thing was pure nightmare fuel.
The Fateful Death ignored him, roaming the room. It only hunted things marked by Fate. Zuo Meng, existing beyond this world’s rules, had no Fate to track.
As the monster drifted away, Zuo Meng followed. Might as well chat with the one local uglier than him.
Outside the window, on the 27th floor…
Wang Xiaokai shivered in the midnight wind. An hour ago, he’d been a tired office worker. Now he clung to a ledge with three others—not superheroes or Reincarnators, just ordinary people with weird trinkets like magic Mahjong tiles and glass-shattering tools.
“Brother Wang, what if it looks out here?”
One glance from that monster would doom them all.
“Fate doesn’t work like human senses,” said Wang Feng, the group’s veteran. His physique outshone the others’. “We made noise earlier. It didn’t react.”
“So we’re hiding from a blind thing?”
Knowing this information, Wang Xiaokai suddenly felt that ‘Fate’ wasn’t so terrifying anymore.
“They say it’s blind, but sometimes it’s sharper than anything. Don’t know why – just stay hidden. If you get found, don’t count on me saving you.” After their brief interaction, Wang Xiaokai decided Wang Feng wasn’t bad, at least better than the bald man and icy woman nearby.
“It’s freezing. I can’t take much more.”
“Then crawl back out. Let’s see if that monster’ll alter your fate.”
For some reason, the bald man kept needling Wang Xiaokai. But trapped in their current situation, Wang Xiaokai swallowed his pride. Now that he knew the monster couldn’t hear, he pressed for answers.
“Brother Wang, you’ve fought these things forever. Haven’t you gotten any upgrades? Like potential points?”
“Pah! You think this is some game?”
Wang Feng sneered.
Upgrades? Of course he wanted them. But where would he even start?
“But I saw you grab that black cat last time! If it’s related to Fate, that cat should be as dangerous as the thing outside.” Wang Xiaokai remembered Old Man Wang’s effortless style – single-handedly seizing Poor Fate, that heroic silhouette!
“See these rags I’m wearing?”
Wang Feng’s voice turned frosty.
???
A homeless man’s outfit, just missing a broken bowl. If not for these tattered clothes, Wang Xiaokai wouldn’t have mistaken him for a beggar initially.
“Old Man Wang’s already rock-bottom poor. Poor Fate… why would I fear it?”
Wang Feng declared without shame.
Wang Xiaokai gaped.
Being poor and proud of it!
“Not all Fates kill. Poor Fate’s tame – just nags at you. But Fateful Deaths or Evil Fates? Different story.” The silent woman finally spoke.
“What happened to that Poor Fate you caught?”
“Made it into mahjong tiles. Where’d you think they came from? Main god space? Quit daydreaming – your hairline’s retreating enough.” Wang Feng yawned.
‘This is from overtime!’
Wang Xiaokai muttered but moved on. Wang Feng’s slip revealed crucial info – their group had someone handling Fates.
“Someone can handle Fate? Then—”
“Stop drooling. Us ‘fate-shifted’ folks can visit that place after escaping our destinies.” The bald man snorted.
“You’re one of us now. Survive and you’ll see who handles Fates.”
Wang Xiaokai’s stomach dropped. He didn’t want this dangerous life. A stable job was better. But the bald man’s tone suggested no choice.
“Where?”
“Western Suburbs No.2 High School.”
Wang Feng named the place.