Chapter 33: “…Be Careful on the Road.”

The first mission had gone off without a hitch, more or less.

An Luo washed up and climbed into bed, a Knight Novel splayed open on his lap—but he didn’t read it.

He was still replaying the earlier failure in his mind.

What exactly had gone wrong?

An Luo tried to reconstruct his and Meieruita’s actions frame by frame in his head, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t spot his mistake.

The moment he entered the Man-Eating Flower patch, the leaves inside had parted.

Clearly, he’d messed up from the start, but where?

Had he not sprayed enough Scent Agent?

No, that couldn’t be—he’d used more than Meieruita.

Even after the bath, he couldn’t wash it all off; a faint floral scent still lingered on his skin.

So what was it?

It couldn’t possibly be because he’d stepped in with his left foot first, right?

He couldn’t figure it out. Where the hell had he gone wrong?

His fruitless review left An Luo restless and irritated; he couldn’t even focus on the Knight Novel.

He glanced at it idly. The story had progressed to the knight challenging a giant and failing, left on the brink of death, disheartened and defeated. Suddenly, a wizard descended from the sky and gave him a miraculous potion. One sip, and all his ailments vanished.

The knight regained his confidence, challenged the giant again, and whenever he got hurt in the fight, he took a swig of the potion. He ground the giant down to death through sheer persistence.

An Luo: …What a familiar tactic.

It reminded him of his college dorm days grinding through Dark Souls.

Those were carefree times.

Nostalgia colored his view of the knight protagonist in a rosy light. He looked at the guy’s moves again and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Just trading blows head-on without rolling to dodge? No future in that!

He flipped the page, and the next one featured an illustration.

To emphasize the giant’s size, the artwork showed only one of the giant’s feet.

Even more like it.

An Luo’s mind was already simulating how he’d fix that foot if it were up to him.

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

An Luo looked up and saw Meieruita heading out.

Was he going back to sleep so early tonight?

“Good night.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Their words overlapped.

An Luo: “…Then be careful on the road.”

He didn’t ask what Meieruita was up to. It had to be some protagonist secret.

Not prying was the safest bet.

The current plot had diverged a lot from what he’d originally written.

In the original story, Meieruita should have been targeted by those senior apprentices by now, kicking off a tense and thrilling face-slapping arc.

But now, the senior apprentices ignored him completely, still locked in their petty feud with that newbie Evans.

Meieruita, the intended lead, had taken a seat in the audience instead.

He’d stepped out of the spotlight, lurking in the shadows.

No one even noticed him.

An Luo was certain this was deliberate on Meieruita’s part.

As for the reason, Meieruita had never liked pointless conflicts with others.

Fame, honor, others’ admiration—none of it meant anything to him. Rather than waste time bickering over such trifles, he’d rather study witchcraft.

For him, strength was the only eternal truth.

Meieruita didn’t mind obscurity—in fact, he preferred it.

But novels needed conflict to be entertaining.

The less the protagonist wanted trouble, the more An Luo had planned to throw at him.

But now, knowing the plot, Meieruita had sidestepped all those troubles on his own…

Well, An Luo had no room to complain.

He knew his place. He wasn’t about to exploit his plot knowledge for quick gains; he just wanted a normal spot to live steadily.

He had no intention of meddling in Meieruita’s choices.

It was just a shame—he’d set up clearance rewards for every slap-worthy cannon fodder, mini-boss, and big boss.

Earlier, he’d asked Meieruita if he really wasn’t going to make a move on those guys.

“Is that so?” Meieruita had mused thoughtfully. “Their stuff could be useful to me.”

An Luo: “Of course. I designed it that way.”

“Small fry for small rewards, big bosses for big ones—like how your biggest haul in the first stage is this Wizard Tower.”

“I see.” Meieruita nodded but didn’t say what he planned to do.

The dormitory was quiet, save for the crackle of burning firewood.

In that atmosphere, An Luo gradually calmed down, idly flipping through the Knight Novel page by page.

After a dozen pages or so, the door opened and locked again.

An Luo looked up—Meieruita was back.

He looked unchanged. An Luo greeted him, and he grunted in response before heading to the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of running water followed; he was probably washing up.

An Luo lowered his head and continued following the story.

“Here.”

Meieruita’s voice suddenly rang out, very close. An Luo jolted in surprise and looked up to see a bowl piled high with red Man-Eating Flower Fruits, forming a little peak.

They’d even been washed, with glistening water droplets clinging to their skins, making them look refreshingly appetizing.

An Luo was stunned. “For me…?”

“Mm.”

Meieruita said no more, set the bowl on the bedside table, and returned to his desk.

An Luo stared at the full bowl of Man-Eating Flower Fruits, wondering if he was dreaming.

Uh…

Why was the protagonist suddenly playing charity?

An Luo frowned, pondering.

He didn’t dare indulge in some wild fantasy like “Meieruita saw I wanted them and kindly picked extras.”

Even the occasional “What if that’s exactly it?” got firmly quashed.

Even as a daydream, that was too absurd.

This wasn’t just out-of-character—it was a total replacement!

Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

He’d written the protagonist himself; how could he not know Meieruita’s personality?

So this had to be a softening tactic?

Yeah, probably.

Truth be told, An Luo wanted to coexist peacefully with Meieruita too, but that wasn’t realistic.

Sigh.

An Luo picked one up and ate it. The taste was great.

Only a fool would butt heads with Meieruita. An Luo decided to go along with whatever plan Meieruita had, gradually acting like he was being worn down by these sugar-coated overtures.

Even if it didn’t lower Meieruita’s guard, it could add a few more layers to their facade of friendliness.

An Luo held a fruit up to the light, examining it. Its round shape and vibrant color were stunning.

He’d nearly lost his life for one, while Meieruita had effortlessly gathered a whole bowl in no time.

As expected of the protagonist.

An Luo sighed in admiration, shifted to a comfier position, and ate fruit while reading the Knight Novel. Pure bliss.

Whatever Meieruita’s motive, An Luo was the one benefiting.

He could fantasize it was his good son showing filial piety—quite the thrill.

“Thanks!” An Luo called to Meieruita’s back. “You’re so good to me!”

Sweet words never hurt.

You carry me, I carry you—basic courtesy.

After polishing off most of the bowl, drowsiness hit. An Luo slipped under the covers, ready for bed.

He bid Meieruita good night and drifted off, musing hazily that if he could escape smoothly later and live like this, it’d be perfect.

If luck was on his side, maybe he could team up with that nice guy John—way safer.

Clutching visions of a bright future, An Luo slipped into dreamland.

Meieruita impassively crossed out a line.

He felt a bit restless. Once he confirmed An Luo was asleep, he pinched the bridge of his nose, set down his pen, and reviewed his notes.

Though Meieruita could multitask, studying witchcraft improvements while An Luo’s voice echoed in his ears proved distracting even for him.

Progress slowed. It grated on him.

He wanted to block out An Luo’s voice and focus solely on his research—but he couldn’t.

“So sweet, so good.”

“Would anyone harvest these specially as after-dinner fruit?”

“Such a shame.”

The phrases looped endlessly, refusing to fade.

They kept interrupting, derailing his thoughts, dragging down his pace.

Finally at his limit, Meieruita stood, fetched a bowl of Man-Eating Flower Fruits at top speed.

Now it should be quiet, right?

He sat back down, ready for undisturbed work.

But soon, another phrase lingered:

“You’re so good to me!”

“…”

The pen nib gouged an ink streak across his neat notebook.

Only after An Luo fell asleep did the voice weaken and vanish, replaced by slow, steady breathing.

That was tolerable—not too disruptive.

Meieruita could finally concentrate, his thoughts sharper than ever.

After jotting the final line, he pulled out another notebook and wrote impassively:

[I cannot resist the Authority of the Creator. Even if An Luo wields this power unconsciously, his wishes compel me to fulfill them uncontrollably. I don’t yet understand the mechanism, but fortunately, An Luo remains unaware of his influence over me. Thus, my actions stay somewhat free; I haven’t devolved into a slave obeying his every word.]

The quill tip danced, words flowing like a stream across the page:

[I must not let An Luo realize he holds the Creator’s authority over this world. Otherwise, he might experiment on me—an intolerable prospect. I cannot become a dog begging for its master’s caress, wagging my tail shamefully at his side.]

[By comparison, children harbor blind adoration for their fathers in early years, craving affirmation and approval, obeying commands unconditionally.]

[But this fades with time, vanishing entirely upon adulthood. This may serve as a reference. I’m in the plot’s early stage—like a child’s infancy—feeling this irresistible pull and longing is normal. These abnormal emotions will gradually subside as the plot advances.]

[My task is to muddle An Luo’s perception, keeping him oblivious to his power, to weather this vulnerable early phase smoothly. Once these abnormal emotions fully dissipate…]

Meieruita eyed his handwriting, then continued blankly:

[Then, I will slay the father and utterly overthrow his authority.]

Soon, “slay the father” was blacked out. Hesitant strokes added a replacement nearby:

“Turn him into my collection piece.”

He imagined chaining the Creator who forged this world, sealing his lips, leaving him weak and displayed prominently.

By then, An Luo would lose his sway over Meieruita.

Just like that exquisite butterfly specimen Meieruita had once seen in a noble manor.

An Luo would become his most prized possession.