Chapter 81: Swallowed Whole

The suit of armor before him was strikingly familiar—it was the very one they had confiscated from the fraudster Hu not long ago. If Chang Yu remembered correctly, once the curse attached to the armor was removed, it became nothing more than an ordinary set of armor. Crafted with modern techniques to imitate Qin Dynasty armor, it could hardly be considered an antique; apart from being a decorative piece or for cosplay, it was essentially useless.

But why was it here now?

And, more than that, Chang Yu was far more curious about something else: In broad daylight, who could possibly be the eccentric soul wearing such heavy armor while eating in the cafeteria?

The answer was soon revealed. As Chang Yu walked up to the person, he was surprised to find that it was someone he knew—Feng Sanpao.

Chang Yu suddenly exhaled in relief. If it was Feng Sanpao… well, no matter how outrageous his actions, Chang Yu could no longer be surprised. After all, it was Feng Sanpao!

“Hey! Well, well, you’re here!” Feng Sanpao greeted him with perfect composure, not the least bit embarrassed by his current appearance.

“So, you’ve suddenly taken to cosplay now? Even eating lunch you have to wear armor? Isn’t that exhausting?” Chang Yu asked, curiosity in his tone.

“I just suddenly felt that wearing this armor gave me a sense of security, so I thought I’d wear it all the time,” Feng Sanpao replied, turning his head and winking exaggeratedly at Chang Yu.

“But it’s just an ordinary suit of armor, isn’t it? Nothing special about it,” Chang Yu mused. If the armor still had its old power to hypnotize people, he might have understood Feng Sanpao’s eagerness. But the problem was… it was just a regular suit of armor!

“Don’t underestimate it, even if it’s just ordinary armor, at least it offers some protection, right?” Feng Sanpao grinned. “From now on, I plan to wear it regularly. For no other reason than I feel safer!”

“I recall… this armor was submitted as evidence to the bureau,” Chang Yu said helplessly, looking at Feng Sanpao.

“The bureau already had it investigated, and after confirming it wasn’t dangerous, they returned it,” Feng Sanpao replied. “The armor is private property belonging to the fraudster Hu, so the bureau couldn’t just confiscate it outright.”

“Then it should have been returned directly to Hu! How did it end up with you?” Chang Yu asked, even more perplexed.

“He still owes me two thousand yuan, doesn’t he?” Feng Sanpao puffed out his chest, looking righteous. “I went to the hospital to ask for my money, but that kid acted like he didn’t care at all—said he wouldn’t pay me back no matter what, even claimed he’d rather die than return the money. Damn.”

“He conned that money fair and square—why would he return it to you?” Chang Yu shot Feng Sanpao a sidelong glance, more or less able to guess Hu’s thinking.

“That won’t do.” At the mention of money, Feng Sanpao grew agitated. “Paying back debts is only right.”

“Since I can’t get the money, I have to find another way to make it up. I figure this armor is worth at least two thousand, so I took it as repayment.”

“Does Katerina know about this? I think you’d better explain it to her,” Chang Yu said, his expression growing odd. He was certain that if Katerina found out, she’d hold Feng Sanpao accountable. After all, taking someone else’s property without permission was a major violation for a civil servant.

At the mention of Katerina, Feng Sanpao grew even more heated. “I have reason on my side, what’s there to fear?”

“I know you’re afraid of her, but I’m not!” he declared, slapping his empty plate down and making to stand up.

But unexpectedly, his frail body swayed—and he couldn’t get up. After struggling in a half-squat for some time, he was forced by the weight of the armor to slump back into his seat. The situation was truly awkward.

Feng Sanpao grinned sheepishly at Chang Yu. “The armor’s great, really, just a bit too heavy to wear.”

Chang Yu immediately burst out laughing, squealing like a pig, his face full of barely concealed schadenfreude.

“Come on, with your scrawny frame, you want to wear armor like it’s nothing?” Chang Yu chuckled. “Anyone who can wear armor is either burly or broad-shouldered.”

Feeling insulted, Feng Sanpao gritted his teeth and tried to stand by sheer willpower. He straightened his back, tensed his legs, and gave a mighty effort…

Instead of standing up, a series of resounding farts echoed from behind him—loud and unmistakable.

Chang Yu could no longer contain himself and laughed even harder, nearly doubling over. As for Feng Sanpao, his gaunt face turned the color of pig liver in shame and indignation. He looked as if he wished the ground would swallow him.

“Don’t just stand there—come give me a hand,” Feng Sanpao pleaded helplessly.

Chang Yu got up and, with a single motion, lifted Feng Sanpao—armor and all—like a national-level weightlifter. Watching Feng Sanpao struggle just to stand still, Chang Yu couldn’t help but worry.

“Look at him, wobbling with every step. I’m not comfortable letting him walk back to the dorm on his own. You take him,” he instructed Xiao Li, who was nearby.

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll make sure he gets back safely,” Xiao Li promised, thumping his chest.

...

On the eleventh floor of the office building, the spacious training room was filled with all manner of sophisticated instruments and testing equipment. Like the tenth floor, the entire eleventh floor belonged to the Yong’an Security Company—at least in name. In reality, the whole floor was under the jurisdiction of the Disaster Investigation Bureau. Aside from the bureau’s investigators, no one was allowed entry—not even the top brass of Yong’an Security.

Today, a new visitor had arrived.

Chang Yu, wearing a VR headset that resembled swimming goggles, leaped and danced in front of a giant screen, moving his arms wildly—never stopping for a moment. Sometimes he waved his hands; sometimes he twisted his waist. The machine looked like an oversized arcade game, and colorful fruit rained down across the screen.

Through the VR display, Chang Yu felt as though he were truly amidst a storm of falling fruit, always feeling as if apples, bananas, pears, and watermelons would crash down on him. He swung his hands with all his might, slicing the fruit in midair. Unlike the fruit-slicing games he’d played before, this version had the fruit falling at a blistering pace. Many pieces slipped through his defenses and shattered on the ground before he could react, leaving him scrambling.

At last, the game ended. Seeing his final score on the screen, Chang Yu allowed himself a satisfied, steady smile.

Sixty points—the system’s final verdict.

For a score that just scraped the passing mark, Chang Yu was genuinely pleased. After all, this game ran three times faster than a normal version. The Disaster Investigation Bureau had specially developed it to improve the investigators’ physical speed and neural reflexes.

To achieve this score meant Chang Yu’s speed and reflexes had already improved. The first time he played, he’d only managed fifty-eight points! After a grueling afternoon of training, he’d raised his score by two points—what more could he want?

That was the true nature of the game: your mind might be willing, but your body simply couldn’t keep up. The fruit fell so fast there was no time to react, and moving quickly enough was impossible. According to Katerina, three times speed was already the slowest setting.

Chang Yu planned that, once he could clear this speed, he’d try the five-times and ten-times speed options.

He grabbed a dry towel and wiped the sweat from his brow, panting heavily. After an afternoon of bouncing and dodging, he was spent. Checking his phone, he realized it was getting late, so he left the training room and drove back to his apartment.

The moment he entered, Chang Yu collapsed onto his bed without even bothering to shower, falling instantly into a deep sleep.

At that moment, one of the two large gourds on his nightstand began to tremble. A faint light flickered at its mouth, and a root—like a gnarled stick—burst through the stopper and shot out. It circled the room once, then hovered before the sleeping Chang Yu.

With a sudden dive, it plunged into his open mouth, vanishing in a shimmer of light. And so, Chang Yu, in his sleep, swallowed an old tree root—entirely unaware.

That night, Chang Yu had a long, terrifying dream.

He dreamed he had become a pregnant woman, lying in a hospital bed in the throes of labor. The ceiling was stark white, the glaring lights made it impossible to open his eyes, and several grave-faced doctors gathered around him.

He felt utterly wretched, drenched in sweat—soaked to the point that the bedding beneath him could be wrung dry. Gritting his teeth, he summoned all his strength, determined to deliver the baby inside him, but every attempt ended in failure.

Gradually, his vision blurred, a buzzing filled his ears, and even his consciousness began to drift. Everything in his sight twisted and overlapped, his breathing grew rapid. The doctors were shouting at him desperately, but he could only catch snatches of their words.

He strained to listen and finally understood what they were saying:

“Come on! Just a little more—it’s almost out!”

“Keep pushing! You can do it, Chang Yu, you’re the best!”

For some reason, hearing these words made fury surge within him.

He thought, I’m clearly a man! Why am I giving birth here?