Chapter 21
The third-floor resident’s name was Qi Yao. His team members called him “Qi-dui” (Team Leader Qi) or “Captain.”
Arriving at the neighboring complex, Qi Yao found the anomaly they had been tracking for half a month by a flowerbed.
A B-level monster that used the rules of a toy town to lure humans into responding, turning them into sustenance.
His teammate, holding an advanced detection device, panted, his eyes wide as he signaled: something was wrong with this toy town.
According to the information they had gathered, the figurines inside were supposed to be noisy, constantly trying to entice a response.
But they had been standing here for a long time, and the toy town was completely silent!
Qi Yao’s face darkened. He signaled his team to remain silent and observe.
In the toy town, the sun hung high in the sky, and the figurines stood in their designated spots, fake smiles plastered on their faces.
But this time, with the monster’s main body injured, they didn’t have to utter the lines they had repeated millions of times.
An eerie silence enveloped the town.
Luo Yuan stood in the town, enjoying the unusual quiet. He could vaguely sense the information of the human who had discovered the toy town this time.
A…soldier?
Luo Yuan was slightly surprised. But no matter how hard he tried, he could only see a blurry human silhouette outside the toy town’s sky.
He wondered what was happening in the real world.
Had anyone noticed his disappearance and reported it to the police?
Unfortunately, having become a player in this monster instance, Luo Yuan was bound by the rules and couldn’t reveal any information.
He sighed and, seeing the moon appear, quickly gathered his resolve and joined the other figurines, heading towards the mountain.
Although each figurine had their own thoughts, their goal was the same: reach the mountain at the back of the town.
The B-level player, fueled by months of fear and the frustration of forced unconsciousness, used a speed-boosting prop and was the first to arrive at the foot of the mountain.
The monster lay there, half-dead, black smoke still seeping from its body.
The B-level player knew that this black smoke was the monster’s core energy, similar to a human ability user’s power. Once it dissipated completely, the monster would die.
He raised his machete prop and swung, the black smoke dissipating at a noticeably faster rate.
The other players, arriving shortly after, wasted no time, using their abilities and props to attack the monster relentlessly.
By the flowerbed, Qi Yao watched, his eyes widening in surprise. He exchanged glances with his teammate.
The figurines were attacking the monster? Were they no longer bound by the rules?
What was going on?
As Qi Yao struggled to understand the situation, the lizard monster was quickly killed by the players.
All the players in the town received a clearance notification. The toy town, shimmering like grains of sand, slowly dissipated into the air.
[B-level Instance – Toy Town, Core Monster Deceased, Instance Permanently Closed.]
This announcement, echoing through the central city where players gathered in the infinite flow world, was met with mixed reactions.
Some players quickly contacted their teams or partners, while others hurried off to gather information about the players who had cleared the instance.
Xing Nuo was completely unaware of the commotion he had caused.
His face flushed with an unhealthy red, he lay on the sofa, mumbling incoherently, shaking his head.
“No…medicine…Zaizai…soak water.”
Washing his little wooden sword in the bathroom, Xing Nuo had successfully given himself a fever.
Shen Wen wouldn’t be back until late at night, and Shen Baizhou had been kept after school for detention, so Shen Yan assumed the role of the responsible older brother, wrapping the feverish cub in a soft blanket and rushing him to the hospital.
“I’m taking Xing Nuo to the hospital. He’ll be fine soon,” Shen Yan reassured him softly.
He knew that Xing Nuo usually soaked in the blood pool when he was sick.
But Shen Wen had told him recently that he was gradually weaning Xing Nuo off everything related to the monster world.
Unless absolutely necessary, Shen Wen wouldn’t let Xing Nuo use the blood pool for minor ailments.
Over-reliance on the blood pool would only weaken Xing Nuo’s resistance to the viruses and bacteria of the human world.
Shen Wen had carefully researched human childcare practices and learned that human children were usually taken to the hospital when they were sick.
Shen Yan, his memory like a photocopier, recalled Shen Wen’s words verbatim. He hurried downstairs with Xing Nuo.
The driver was waiting by the car. “Good evening, Mr. Shen,” he greeted respectfully, then stepped on the gas, speeding towards the hospital.
Shen Yan held the feverish cub, his arms gradually stiffening.
Sitting in the backseat, his mind both clear and muddled, he could still feel Zaizai’s warmth through the blanket.
He looked down and saw Xing Nuo’s flushed face, mumbling something, his usually bright eyes now dull and half-closed, his hair limp, the whole cub listless.
Shen Yan frowned and couldn’t help but ask:
“Are all human children like this when they’re sick?”
So pitiful and frail, without a trace of their usual energy.
Xing Nuo, however, shared a blood connection with his father, and that connection instinctively affected Shen Yan.
He felt a pang of worry, a human emotion he had never experienced before. He gently touched Xing Nuo’s warm cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingertips.
The driver, thinking Shen Yan was addressing him, replied:
“My son is the same. When he’s sick, his mother fusses over him day and night, taking him to the hospital for IV drips. He cries and screams, it’s enough to drive you crazy. But he’s your child, so you can’t really hit him, you know? Just have to spoil them!”
The driver glanced at the sick Xing Nuo in the rearview mirror and sighed.
“Mr. Shen, don’t worry too much. Your brother is much better behaved than my son when he’s sick. And fevers are common in children, just take him to the hospital promptly.”
Shen Yan, seeing the driver’s experience, asked a few more questions.
But his anxiety remained. He frowned, his lips pressed together, and after a moment of thought, called his personal assistant.
“Assistant Ye, does our company have any partnerships with hospitals, or any investments in children’s hospitals?”
Shen Yan had risen from the bottom of the monster heap, his methods far from honorable.
He knew how to use his intelligence to his advantage and had quickly established himself in Rongcheng after arriving in the human world.
A rising tech company, enthusiastically sponsoring children’s products.
Unfortunately, they hadn’t invested in any children’s hospitals before.
“Mr. Shen, we don’t have any current partnerships with hospitals. Are you looking to invest? What’s the budget? Should I prepare a proposal?”
Shen Yan rubbed his forehead. He looked down at Xing Nuo, who was whimpering and squirming, and instinctively started patting his back, soothing him until he quieted down.
Lowering his voice, he spoke into the phone:
“Contact Rongcheng Private Hospital. Use an investment partnership to secure a VIP ward. My brother’s health is delicate, and we might need it in the future.”
Assistant Ye confirmed, hung up, and immediately contacted the hospital to discuss the partnership.
The driver, overhearing Shen Yan’s conversation, couldn’t help but be impressed.
He thought he spoiled his own child, but compared to Mr. Shen, he was nothing!
Ten minutes later, Shen Yan’s car arrived at Rongcheng Private Hospital. The head pediatrician and the vice president were waiting at the entrance.
A few million in medical equipment investment right off the bat? This wasn’t a business partner, it was a godsend!
The vice president greeted him warmly and quickly led Shen Yan to the VIP ward.
The doctor touched Xing Nuo’s feverish forehead, ordered a few tests, and gave a preliminary diagnosis:
“It’s just a cold and fever. Children easily get sick this time of year. It’s not a serious problem.”
Xing Nuo felt dizzy, his vision blurry, his body weak from the fever.
He struggled to think, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess, poking at his brain like needles.
He remembered he had a sword.
Too weak to speak clearly, he mumbled:
“My…sword…where?”
Shen Yan, who was listening to the doctor’s report, caught Xing Nuo’s mumbling. He patted his back, soothing him.
“Your little wooden sword is at home. Xing Nuo can see it when we get back.”
Xing Nuo’s vision swam; he felt even dizzier, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling as he coughed.
Seeing how red Xing Nuo’s face was, Shen Yan frowned and turned to the doctor.
“Is there a way to quickly lower his temperature?”
The doctor pushed up his glasses and nodded.
“We can give him a fever reducer injection. He looks very uncomfortable, we can’t let the fever continue.”
Xing Nuo, drifting in and out of sleep, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind, one moment thinking about his sword, the next unable to remember who he was, was suddenly jolted awake by a sharp pain in his bottom.
His eyelids fluttered open, his dazed eyes focusing as his mind cleared.
He lifted his hand and touched his sore bottom, his mouth opening in a silent “Oh.”
“Waaah…hurt Zaizai!”
Nestled in Shen Yan’s arms, he didn’t dare look at the doctor, afraid of another injection.
He buried his face in his brother’s embrace, pointing at the doctor in the white coat.
“He…hurt Zaizai!”
His muffled voice was filled with hurt and distress, on the verge of tears.
Shen Yan, seeing the little one’s trembling shoulders, quickly patted his back, his voice soft and soothing.
“It’s okay, it won’t hurt for long.”
He lifted Xing Nuo’s face for a closer look.
Not a single tear.
“Fake Cry King Xing Nuo.”
Shen Yan chuckled, using a phrase Shen Wen often used to tease the little one.
