Famine 241: Fairy Tale Town

The surrounding cacophony grew even louder in an instant.

Everyone was stunned, blankly staring at the audacious little girl.

Alice stood there with her hands behind her back, composed and unruffled, oblivious to the exclamations around her. She smiled at Si Zhiyan and said:

“These days, it’s not just the farm that’s been making progress.”

“In recent days, I spent a great deal of time analyzing the crystal you gave me and discovered a method for performing Second Stage Forging on black hole crystals. The technical barrier was only just overcome, and it still isn’t quite perfected… but I thought I’d bring it out for demonstration.”

Alice gave a gentle wave of her hand. The black hole crystal in Si Zhiyan’s hand bounced and landed on her fingertip.

She lifted her gaze, her left hand behind her back, right hand lightly holding the black hole crystal. Smiling, she said:

“As long as there’s enough black hole crystal in the castle, I can use them as a foundation to carve out a new subspace.”

“It just so happens, thanks to the farm, that as payment for processing gemstones, I’ve harvested quite a lot of little black holes.”

“All we need to do is detonate my castle, and the ‘Filth’ fused with the space will surely be burned away along with it.”

Alice’s voice paused softly. She looked down with a smile and took a deep breath.

“…At the very moment of the explosion, I can transfer every visitor in the castle into the new subspace. That way, no one will get hurt.”

Sparks danced at her fingertip as she traced out the classic shape of a Klein bottle.

“It isn’t easy, of course. You need a little subspace-nesting technique… but spatial magic is my specialty. I am more than familiar with this pure energy… so there’s no issue. I have confidence.”

Si Zhiyan gazed at her, a storm of emotion roiling in his chest, and instinctively refused, “No, it’s too risky—”

Alice cut him off: “Tell me, if you accepted the ‘Filth,’ would it affect your performance or the farm’s in the final battle?”

She dropped all honorifics. Si Zhiyan noticed. He hesitated for a moment and, in the end, unwilling to lie, slowly nodded.

“It’d absolutely have an effect. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. Honestly, the risk is great.” He sighed gently, his tone tender. “But it’s my duty to protect all of you…”

“Hey! Don’t talk like we’re a bunch of fragile little white flowers!” Alice cut him off with a shout. She waved her slender arms, glittering with gemstones, like a warrior—no, she didn’t just resemble one, she was a warrior.

“Our odds of victory are already unfavorable, and I too want to do something for humanity’s future!”

“If there’s something I can do, why won’t you let me?”

“I’ve been meaning to say this—you! Did you think that just because you wouldn’t take me to see the bleeding dragon, I’d refuse to open the castle?”

“Of course I would! Whenever it’s needed, I’ll step up! If I cry, it’s my own business—I’ve long since outgrown the age where I have to sob in someone’s arms! If humanity needs me, of course I should stand up!”

Alice spoke in a rapid-fire burst, her slender arms raised with force, radiant with the strength of a true fighter.

At last, she glared at Si Zhiyan and spoke slowly, as if squeezing out every word—

“Because…”
“When I needed you, all of you stepped forward and helped me.”

At that, Si Zhiyan knew clearly that to refuse further would be an insult. He breathed deeply and hugged Alice tightly. “…Thank you.”

“I don’t want pretty words,” the young lady snapped as she tossed her hair and strode forward. “Repay me with victory.”

Si Zhiyan replied, “I will not fail you.”

“Bian Xu!”

“I’m here,” Bian Xu answered immediately.

He took a tray from a soldier and handed it straight to Alice. “Here’s all the food from the farm that boosts evasion, luck, and defense. I’ve sorted it all. The fountain spring water is being brought up. We’ll minimize the damage.”

“I modeled the power of ‘The Toppling of Buzhou Mountain.’ Collateral damage to those outside the spatial field is low. Hephaestus Castle is a small subspace; everything is arranged—Alice, you’ll be only lightly injured.”

No need for further instructions; Bian Xu had made all these preparations even as the conversation was ongoing.

Alice smiled, “Truly reliable.”

Beside her, Lu Xingde, who had been helping to carry gems, suddenly grew anxious as he listened. “Wait…wait a minute! What are you all talking about?!”

“Blow up Hephaestus Castle? Use ‘The Toppling of Buzhou Mountain’?!”

—The Toppling of Buzhou Mountain—

The explosion generated by ‘The Toppling of Buzhou Mountain’ is irreversible, annihilating.

Its target is the current subspace and anyone deeply fused with it.

Typically, this means anyone who has lived in that space for more than thirty Earth days, or whose existence is closely tied to its creation.

The explosive power is proportional to the subspace’s scale, and generally, not even a deity can survive it.

Clearly, it’s powerful—powerful enough to cross the rules and harm even the chief god’s ‘Filth.’ But at the same time, it affects the castle’s creator, as well as everyone dwelling within…

And yet, somehow, that was the safest option.

Thirty days?

Everyone had lived there, day after day, for so long!

“Even if Miss Alice can withstand it, there are others in there! The combat players are tough, but…”

Si Zhiyan raised his hand to stop him, “Enough, that’s enough.”

Normally, Lu Xingde always obeyed Si Zhiyan, but this time, he turned in anxious circles, unable to hold back, his voice hoarse—

“…But, Miss Alice, the ordinary residents in the castle—none of them have been strengthened at all! All those craftsmen in the basement, the footmen and servants who coordinate with us… They’re just regular people…!”

Si Zhiyan interrupted sternly, crimson eyes slicing through the air. “Enough!”

Lu Xingde had never heard Si Zhiyan speak in that tone. He jolted and fell silent at once.

Each blood-laden word hung in the air, and silence descended upon them all.

……

“It’s all right.”

Alice said to Si Zhiyan. Her hands were clasped behind her back, gripping the crystal tightly.

Si Zhiyan looked at Alice in concern, but she gently shook her head at him.

Although Lu Xingde’s words weren’t polite, she showed no anger—instead, she smiled with a complicated, even apologetic air. She lowered her head, blinked, avoided Lu Xingde’s gaze, and quietly asked:

“…Do you have some feelings for Naya?”

Naya was one of Alice’s maids, a gentle, reserved young brunette who often conducted business for Alice at the mines. Lu Xingde choked a little, then admitted, “…Yes.”

Quickly, he added, “…I hope you’re not offended. I know, someone like me—no girl would like me now, so I’ve never said anything to Naya, nor do I expect anything. I just…”

“Don’t talk that way about yourself.” Alice interrupted him. “You’re a fine person. If Naya were still here, she would probably have liked you. She always liked rough exteriors and people with a broad heart.”

She took a deep breath.

“…But, there’s something I must apologize for.”

Alice lifted her head, eyes reddened, and slowly whispered—

“In Hephaestus Castle…”

“There are no ordinary people.”

…@ Infinite stories, all on Jinjiang Literature City.

Lu Xingde was dumbfounded, unable to quite process her words.

Everyone was looking at Alice.

Confusion clouded every face—except for two.

Si Zhiyan and Bian Xu exchanged a glance and sighed quietly.

Alice looked at Si Zhiyan and Bian Xu and smiled, “You both guessed, of course.”

“Yes.” Si Zhiyan nodded, “A little.”

A low rumble…
The chief god’s ‘Filth’ writhed.

Blood threads danced, spilling through the air. The gorgeous portal was blanketed in red, becoming a sight both scarlet and ominous.

Alice stood before the portal, hands behind her back, the hem of her pink gown drawing a graceful circle as she turned.

With all eyes upon her, she gathered her skirt and made a deep, elegant curtsy.

“Though I should have done this earlier, let me introduce myself—”

“My name is Alice. Ranked fourth among the Chosen. My title on the ranking is the Dream Puppeteer.”

……

On their second day as guests at Hephaestus Castle, Naya told Bian Xu a story as beautiful as a fairy tale.

Under the azure sky, the flaxen-haired maid smiled and said: Seven years ago, we were already living together—no outsiders had ever come here.

The ‘players’ here were originally a small group of survivors from a shopping mall.

One day, they found a young lady and her butler unconscious at the roadside and brought them home.

The lady and butler awoke, delighted and grateful, and invited everyone to join them in a fairy-tale castle, even teaching them the skills they needed to survive.

In Naya’s telling, Hephaestus Castle was a wondrous utopia, built at the very onset of the Famine Game, perfectly sheltering everyone.

Kindhearted people rescued fallen nobles, and good deeds were rewarded with miracles.

…but was it really so?

In a fit of emotion, Alice had once blurted out,

“Do you know how many years it took me to build this castle?! Bit by bit, I gathered materials from all over the Famine Game…”

The road recounted by the young lady was thick with thorns and hardship.

“…So many people called me a genius… How laughable.”

Alice’s expression grew distant and cold, her gaze downcast, arms hugging herself, voice almost a whisper:

“In the early days of the Famine Game, I was just a very, very ordinary student.”

“My major was jewelry design… Who could have guessed that would ever be useful?”

When the apocalypse first descended, everyone went through hell.

But precisely because it was so sudden, social and state structures had not yet shattered. No one knew that nine long years of hunger awaited. Many could still step out from a peaceful, prosperous society, still retaining a fragile, precious spark of kindness.

It was thanks to one such fragile spark that Alice survived.

Helpless and vulnerable, she was protected by Yu Yao, her childhood neighbor, her only support as they struggled, fought, and ultimately passed out from hunger at the roadside.

A group of survivors living in a shopping mall took them in.

When Alice awoke, she saw a fire burning in the underground supermarket. A pot bubbled with potato porridge.

People huddled in groups around the fire. Yu Yao held her tightly. A flax-haired young woman offered the siblings a bowl of mashed potatoes, smiling, “Hello, I’m Naya.”

She said that more people meant more strength; that there must be a way out; that, barring misfortune, the mall’s stores would last them a long time…

Alice felt none of it. She’d been cold for so long outside, she only clutched her steaming bowl, her nose tingling with tears, and forced herself to nod.

Finally, Alice looked up and softly asked, “Where are we going?”

Naya fell silent. She stroked Alice’s hair, lost and sad, and smiled faintly.

“Who knows.”

By the flickering firelight, her voice sounded uncertain, wistful: “Let’s go find a place where everyone can live happily.”

With the Famine Game’s arrival, none could guess what would happen next, or why disaster had befallen them.

Rumors ran wild—some blamed divine retribution, others a government conspiracy. There were even those who claimed this world was just a mock experiment, and outside of it, there stood a beautiful, luxurious castle. If only one could reach it, everyone would be saved.

When the first world transition came, people clustered together, blankly staring at the desolate wasteland before them.

The shopping mall they’d counted on—and all its food—had vanished without a trace.

Alice gazed up in confusion, kneeling on the ground, devoid of all strength. Her legs had turned to jelly. She stared at the endless gray barrens, unable to see a way forward; it was as if she’d lost all will and simply could not rise.

Yu Yao tried dragging her up several times but failed, so he sank to the ground beside her, sheltering her tightly—

“We’ll find the castle.”

“Alice, didn’t you always love Disney? They say this is all just a game, and beyond it is a fairy-tale castle: blue skies, white clouds, plenty of supplies, a beautiful amusement park… If we can just reach the castle, everyone will have a new, happy life.”

“Alice, Alice.”

“I’ll walk with you, we’ll search for the legendary castle together.”

…

And so they helped each other to their feet and set off on their journey.

Later, Alice awakened her forging powers—she really was a genius. On the road, she began collecting spatial gems, hoping one day to create her own subspace.

But… forging magic grew slowly and weakly. Alice worked desperately at her gems, but she couldn’t protect anyone.

Those once-innocent, gentle people slowly lost themselves to hunger. They stopped sharing food, grew cold to strangers, even fought and robbed for scraps, becoming people even they no longer recognized… And even so, not everyone made it.

Strictly speaking, except for Alice, no one managed to stay with her to the end.

They set off together to find happiness, but one by one, they fell along the way.

Lu Xingde was thoroughly confused. “Wait…wait, wait… Are you saying that now, none of the castle’s people exist?”

“No, they do exist.”

Alice drew a deep breath, blinking away tears as she shot him a small glare.

“Naya died in the third year after the Famine Game descended. She was always so gentle, a little Buddhist, really sweet. Yu Yao died five years and three months in; he gave his life to protect me…”

“We suffered terribly, exploring the world, searching for the castle…”

She trembled as she spoke:

“I only became a Chosen One so I could remember them, remember they once existed, let this world know they once existed…”

That day, Yu Yao died in Alice’s arms.

Before he died, he pressed a subspace gem into Alice’s pocket, smiled desperately, and with labored breaths whispered:

“…I always believed you’d find the castle… You need to… be happy…”

The blowing bellows fell silent.

Alice wailed in anguish.

He was her first—and her last—companion.

The all-powerful young lady from the fairy tale never existed.

Here, what remained was nothing but a powerless, broken little girl, collapsed over her brother’s corpse, weeping.

Dirty blood soaked her shoes and socks, trickling onto the incomplete set of subspace gems she’d failed to gather.

In that moment, Alice wanted nothing.

She crumbled completely, bereft of hope. She no longer wanted to find a castle or build a subspace. She lay sobbing on Yu Yao’s cold body, her grief beyond words, wishing only for everyone to come back. She wanted it so badly her body shook, unable to summon the tiniest shred of strength.

In the face of pouring blood and divine scrutiny from above, at last, the chief god’s gaze fell briefly upon her—

Bestowing upon her the ‘Miracle of Pain.’

……

No one knows how many years passed before Alice finally gathered all the gems.

Creeaak, creeaak.

Deep underground in the fairy-tale castle, the young girl sat alone in the workshop, carefully tightening a screw.

The furnace flickered, casting a long, wavering shadow behind her, just as the fire had done, long ago, in that supermarket.

Far below, in the forbidden, desolate depths of Hephaestus Castle, stood a vast workshop, seven or eight meters high. Countless gears of every size interlocked, spreading out beneath the earth like a labyrinth.

The gemstones powered a myriad of eyes—lifelike puppets lurking in the darkness, blankly watching her.

Puppet-strings drifted through the air.

After a long time, Alice slowly lifted her gaze and nervously moved her lips.

Yu Yao, dressed in a perfectly tailored tailcoat, stepped out slowly from the shadows.

Alice had grown much, but Yu Yao looked forever as young as the day he died. He smiled tenderly, warmly, and, guided by puppet-strings, knelt gracefully and embraced Alice.

“I’m home,” Alice said. The puppet’s lips moved with that same gentle, helpless male voice as ever.

“I missed you,” Alice said. Dressed in her absurd pink dress, she leaned against Yu Yao’s chest, head lowered, sobbing softly.

“I’ll never leave you alone again. Never.” Alice said. Bowing his head, with lips that felt no warmth, ‘Yu Yao’ gently kissed the crown of Alice’s head.

“We will become happy together.”

This was her miracle—her pain-shrouded paradise.

…

“My Miracle of Pain is called ‘Hive Mind.’”

Alice tapped her temple gently, speaking softly.

Under the chief god’s gaze, she was nothing but a conglomeration of insects.

“I can play the part of many different individuals in my head, as if I were controlling multiple characters in a game… Of course, you could also call them puppets.”

“While I let my real body wander, the puppets do their work… I’m very good at this now.”

—The clues of Hephaestus Castle had, in fact, appeared from the very beginning.

The day they first arrived, they’d stumbled into a fairy-tale castle.

The young lady had been there, battling an imaginary butler. She’d found a piece of candy, and she really wanted to eat it. If Yu Yao had been there, he’d surely have stopped her—helpless yet kind, a bit of a scoundrel but always gentle.

She’d been lost in her own false fantasy, unable to distinguish dream from reality, so much so that it took Bian Xu two attempts to rouse her—

There was, at last, a second real living person here.

Only then did the young lady turn and face them.

The butler Yu Yao, who by rights should have been doing this, waited until everything had settled down before climbing over the wall and joining them.

It was only logical. When Alice was startled, her first reaction was to control her own real body.

…

Bian Xu had once given Yu Yao a bundle of food—a bag full of rice, fragrant meat, and peppers. @Infinite stories, all on Jinjiang Literature City.

And yet, Yu Yao and all the maids who’d endured seven years of survival in the Famine Game barely reacted. Yu Yao only smiled, bowed politely, and accepted the bundle as if he’d been handed a flower.

Because by then, they no longer needed to eat.

Si Zhiyan had misjudged her, thinking the young lady’s control over her domain far exceeded Nie Du’s.

No one knew that Alice envied Nie Du intensely, even to the point of a vague, desperate jealousy.

Jealous that his gift was for fighting and protection, that he could defend the people at his side; jealous that his miracle appeared so early, leaving him a chance to salvage something before all collapsed.

…

Everyone knew Alice was a genius.

Countless people had seen her roaming the Famine Game. But every time it was time to deliver to the farm, she never missed a beat. Not only did she always complete her orders—nearly every gem passed quality assurance, even producing second-stage red and blue gems.

She outwitted and battled Bian Xu in the city, tirelessly whisked Yu Yao throughout town on snack-hunting adventures, and worked in the castle’s depths to research ever greater breakthroughs.

She’d long since grown used to mechanically maintaining her own existence, wearing a smile, seeking amusement wherever she could.

All the while, she kept a part of her mind forging tirelessly in the puppet- and gear-filled basement, her furnace blazing. The hammer rose and fell, gem shards mixing with sweat and hysteria, glinting in the firelight.

…

The craftsmen and servants all lived in the castle’s depths, appearing to everyone only on rotation. All the castle’s surface-dwellers kept silent about the underground.

They all kept to themselves, reclusive despite the bustling nearby farm, never venturing out or changing.

Night after night, the members of Hephaestus Castle remained lively, unarmed, never harboring ill intent.

They joked and played, accompanied their young mistress, and dwelled in the heart of that fairy-tale town.

If only she could really fool herself.

Every silent night, Alice would lean against “Yu Yao,” blankly staring at the ceiling, tears soaking her hair, uncaring.

If only she could truly go mad.

But the chief god was nothing if not merciful:

He granted Alice this illusory miracle, yet at the same time cursed her with a mind as sharp as it was inexhaustible, forever refusing to stop.

Her brain could run countless threads, forever awake, forever untiring.

Leaving her in every moment, every second, painfully clear-headed with the wish to die.

To taste, ever and always, a loneliness that seemed destined to endure until the end of the world.