Chapter 81: Black Room and Lut Gholein
Chapter 81: Black Room and Lut Gholein
Confirming this phenomenon, Sun Fei began thinking rapidly.
He pondered how to share resources between the World of Diablo and the real world. Though he still couldn’t be sure if anything besides the small Belt Space could bring tons of items into the World of Diablo, that little pack of Winter Wheat seeds had opened a bright window in his cluttered thoughts—one he’d never noticed before.
While thinking, Sun Fei walked toward Nun Acarra’s small tent.
He found Nun Acarra busy mixing potions in front of her seemingly ragged tent. He took out the pack of Winter Wheat seeds from his Belt Space and handed them to her.
“This is…”
Acarra took the cloth bag, her face filled with delighted disbelief.
It was incredible. She could feel a thick life energy radiating from this small bag. This energy felt both familiar and strange to her, something she hadn’t sensed in a very long time.
Long ago, Rogue Encampment had grown crops to feed the Rogues. But over the past sixty years, as Diablo’s evil power slowly contaminated Rogue Continent, many plants became corrupted. Pure seeds like this had become nearly impossible to find. Camp crop yields dropped lower and lower until they stopped entirely. They’d had no choice but to survive on a few farm animals like chickens, ducks, and cows—plus a wild vegetable called root fern that grew sparsely in the wilderness.
But Sun Fei’s Winter Wheat seeds felt untouched by darkness. Acarra was certain they could grow in Rogue Encampment. Even if the yield was lower under Diablo’s dim skies, even the poorest harvest would be a huge hope—safer than sending Rogues to gather foul root fern in monster-infested wilds.
“In my world, this plant is called Winter Wheat. It’s tough and grows well in Rogue Continent’s damp, chilly climate… Aunt Acarra, you could try planting a few. If they grow, I can bring more seeds. Maybe it’ll ease the camp’s food problem.”
“Oh, this is wonderful… Thank you so much, Lord Sun Fei! I can feel these seeds’ pure, bright life energy. You’ve given our camp hope!” Nun Acarra bowed seriously, her sharp-dealer attitude gone.
“Huh, no need to thank me. You could just offer me some free potions, gear, or scrolls instead. That’d beat words!” Sun Fei smiled without sincerity.
“No way!”
The shrewd dealer face snapped back instantly. “Lord Sun Fei, as a leader, you should set a good example—no free handouts! Plus, I make few potions and bits of gear, barely enough for camp Rogues to survive. You use too much. Even if I worked day and night for you alone, I couldn’t keep up!”
Sun Fei : “…”
Still a crook.
But she did have a point.
Sun Fei gave up on getting free stuff. Glancing at the bottles and jars around the tent, he sniffed the sharp air. Suddenly, an idea hit him. He grinned, “Aunt Acarra, why not get help making potions? It’d boost your output!”
“Do you think I wave my hand and poof out potions? Each bottle needs rare herbs that don’t grow inside camp. Rogues risk their lives gathering them only during lulls in Diablo’s evil power. Believe me, every potion holds our fighters’ sweat and blood!” She grew sad.
Sun Fei chuckled, pointing at himself with his thumb, “Aunt Acarra, isn’t the perfect helper right here? I might gather herbs for you. My price is simple: Teach me each herb’s name and share your potion recipes.”
“You?”
Acarra arched her long eyebrows. She nearly rebuked him, then stopped abruptly. Eyes suddenly gleaming, she scanned Sun Fei from head to toe. An understanding look washed over her face. “Actually… you’re right! Come, come! Let’s start! I’ll show you how to tell herbs apart by grade and components!”
…
“Salad Grass… Lantern Stamen… White-odd Grass… Rogue Demon Vine… Starlight Grass… White Bone Vine—wait, Blood Bone Vine? And uh… Flame Root? Spider Limb Joint?”
An hour later.
Reeking of bitter herbs, Sun Fei raced from Acarra’s tent. He spat constantly and stumbled around like a disaster victim, chanting weird herb names like a lunatic. He looked broken, like a wild dinosaur had trampled him.
“Wait… Lord Sun Fei! Don’t run! I have forty more herb samples untested! They’re not bitter—some taste sweet!” Nun Acarra yelled after him, grinning mockingly.
Sun Fei fled without replying.
He skirted the wooden fences and tents, spitting out herb bits. Then he remembered something. He found Elder Kane, the ‘free identification scroll in human form’ at Rogue Encampment’s center. Sun Fei opened his Belt Space. He handed Kane some armor pieces and a silver Storage Ring.
“Wise Kane, I found these in a… mysterious place. Could you identify them for me?”
Actually, from a slain Silver Masked Man. The Storage Ring belonged to Evans, the unlucky four-star Wood Magic Mage. Sun Fei had stored these items in his Barbarian’s Belt Space. He’d noticed them earlier beside the Winter Wheat seeds. Their ‘unidentified’ status made him seek Kane’s help. Maybe after identification, Charsi the Blacksmith could alter them for real-world use without tracing.
“Hmm? What odd gear… Never seen this kind before… Let me look… Heavens! These inscriptions! The enchantment designs—totally foreign!” Elder Kane took the items. Spellbound, he stared as if discovering ancient treasure. He snapped from his trance but paid no further mind to Sun Fei.
“This could take some time. Come back in three days.” Stuffing the gear lovingly under his arm, Kane simply… walked off.
“You sly fox—couldn’t just admit you can’t ID this stuff?” Sun Fei made a vulgar gesture at the elder’s retreating back.
Feeling idle, Sun Fei decided go monster-slaying for experience.
But Rogue Encampment held few challenges for him. He’d swept its zones for threats days ago. With monsters gone and bosses defeated, those maps offered little thrill.
With Ileena still in the real world, Sun Fei sought the ‘background extra’ Warriv. For the first time, he picked ‘Go East’, heading toward the second World of Diablo map: the more advanced—and far deadlier—city called Lut Gholein.
Normally, the trek from Rogue Encampment to Lut Gholein took Rogues over a year. But for Sun Fei, the journey echoed his past computer games: a moment’s blur, feelings of weightlessness… like soaring through time and space.
When his eyes reopened, he stood in Lut Gholein.
Sandy brown everywhere—a fortress built between desert cliffs. Where Rogue Encampment was a humble makeshift camp, Lut Gholein loomed grandly, a city carved from ancient desert stone. No elegant slopes like Shampoo City, yet it had sturdy walls—a splendid Royal Palace nestled safely in the inner fort—double-floor inns and docks packed with ships… Things unseen in the ‘countryside’ of Rogue Encampment.
Strangely though, Lut Gholein struck Sun Fei like a ghost town. Barely a pedestrian stirred. Winds whirled dust under an autumn sky. Silence hung heavy—only dry rustling to be heard.
Luckily, NPCs appeared.
Instantly after Sun Fei stepped in, one approached. Simple robotic chat later, Sun Fei took Lut Gholein’s first quest from the tavern owner: Hunt the demon lurking in the city sewers.
Memory led him to the sewer entrance. He climbed down for battle.
But he noticed something odd. Unlike the lively NPCs of Rogue Encampment, these Lut Gholein ones felt dull. Expressionless. Blank as wooden dummies.
Why?
The city itself radiated death—as bleak and empty as a haunted ruin.
Puzzled, Sun Fei focused on bloody killing inside the sewers.
…
…
Two hours later.
Sun Fei cleared the sewers easily with his level 20 Barbarian’s brutal strength. He slew the zone boss, completing the quest. Just a sliver away from level 21. Returning to Lut Gholein, he handed over the task—earning a skill point. After exchanging some potion rewards in his head, he exited the World of Diablo via a Portal.
Back at Shampoo City’s Royal Palace.
Perfect timing.
Just then, guards announced Prison Warden Oleg at the doors. Sun Fei sat on his throne, stretching. “Send him in!”
Soon, Warden Oleg scurried inside.
The thick brownnoser prostrated himself. “Your Majesty Alexander, as commanded, we have moved all prisoners to the new jail! Lady Ileena is visiting the old Iron Prison Water Dungeon now!”
“Good work.” Sun Fei praised with a grin.
“This lowly one only does his duty! Serving Your Majesty brings the greatest honor!” Oleg bowed humbly, then spoke craftily. “Sire, your people beg you to tour the new jail—and grant it a name!”
“Oh?”
Intrigued, Sun Fei decided to see Oleg’s rebuilt jail—originally a crumbling sickhouse. Too busy to check it before, he now formed a name: Black Room—and savored his cleverness.
“Here’s your reward. Drink it up, then take me to the jail.”
Sun Fei lightly waved his palm. Half a bottle of Hulk Potion flew to Oleg. It glowed a strange green. Precisely tailored to unlock Oleg’s potential.
“This…”
Oleg stared. He’d expected something grand. Not this poisonous-looking liquid. Yet with uncanny political instinct, he didn’t hesitate—or ask. Oleg pulled the cork with doomed resolve.
Gulp-gulp!
He downed it all.
Next second, pain erupted. Excruciating torment wracked Oleg’s bones. Sun Fei watched, shocked—Oleg gritted his teeth through it! No whimpers, no groans. Though drenched in sweat and white as chalk, he endured silently till the pain faded! Sun Fei’s opinion of this coward… rose.
Feeling the surge of Might and changes in his Qi Channels, finally understanding the potion’s effect, Oleg fell to his knees. Words failed him. His mouth twitched uncontrollably. Tears streamed.
“Your Majesty… Thank you… I… By the God of War, Oleg swears—a warrior’s oath—life service! Many in Shampoo City scorn me… Baron Bazel used me like some tool… But you… showed me dignity!”
He sobbed beyond speech.
Sun Fei stayed seated, ignoring Oleg’s weeping. He smirked with rising smugness. His vanity swelled like floodwaters. Had his mighty character… reformed this wretch?
…
Ten minutes later.
Led by a tearful Oleg, Sun Fei arrived at the new jail—remodeled from the city’s west-side old sickhouse.
White stone walls now towered four meters high. Inside, the rundown building had become two dozen airy, well-lit stone cells. Iron-bar windows and heavy doors held sixty prisoners hauled from the Iron Prison Water Dungeon.
Compared to the cavernous dungeon, the twenty-room jail seemed small. More than enough for peaceful Shampoo City. Why build it? Sun Fei needed to seal away the dungeon now guarding secrets that could rock Azeroth Continent: the Divine-Demon Ruins!
Before the jail entrance stood two massive warrior statues clutching swords—over ten meters tall, imposing yet calm. Town folks had funded and named them Justice Pillar and Repentance Pillar.
Between them stood a nameless black stone slab awaiting the jail’s title. Citizens crowded around eagerly.
“My people, may no Shampoo City denizen see this jail from the inside again!”
Sun Fei declared loudly before the slab.
He drew Oleg’s Two-Handed Broadsword and slashed at the rock! Sparks flew as steel chiseled into hard stone. Letters took shape from falling chips:
Black Room!
“Black Room! This shall be its name! I vow that anyone punished here learns remorse behind these walls. Though confined briefly, none shall lose life here!”
Sun Fei raised his blade and shouted.
“Long Live the King!”
“King Alexander! Long Live!”
“Kind King, God of War bless you!”
The crowd roared. Strange cheers for a jail? Yet where the Iron Prison Water Dungeon brought fear—a sinkhole death-trap for petty crimes or political mishaps—this Black Room stood tall as Shampoo City’s emblem of mercy. A bright future dawned under Alexander… with the Zenit Empire royal delegation arriving soon!
Amid wild hurrahs, the military chief Gordon Brook rushed through the people and whispered urgently to Sun Fei.
Instantly, Sun Fei’s face darkened.
“They’re finally here? Heh. Wait for them? Long done…”