Famine 124: Side Quest

Si Zhiyan sat in the farm, taking in everything around him.

He tapped his chair arm thoughtfully, his mind digging even deeper, and by now he had all but confirmed the true nature of [It].

Once his information gathering was complete, a short while later, the system notification sounded.

[Ding!]

[Progress updated.]

[Side Quest – Fantasies that Haunt the Soul]
[Objective: Gather 500 living humans in the abyss. Current progress: 3/500.]
[Time limit: 29 days.]
[Rewards: Vein Spirit Permit, Upgradable Lava Zone, Weapon Allocation Subsystem, Coordinates for Hephaestus Castle]

Si Zhiyan couldn’t help but smile.

The vine slid close, pressing up against him in a coaxing gesture. Si Zhiyan lightly stroked it, speaking gently: “I already knew what I wanted to do—this quest hardly sets any restrictions, and there’s no penalty for failure. The time limit is generous.”

“It’s you, based on my own understanding, assigning me a quest in hope that the rewards will offer me some assistance… isn’t that so?”

Beneath his black coat, Si Zhiyan wore a tailored white shirt. The thin fabric hugged his pale skin, outlining his butterfly-like shoulder blades and slender waist.

Ever since the first day he’d awakened, the vine had remained wrapped closely along his body. Beneath his thin shirt, its sinuous, menacing tracks appeared and disappeared: half like some instrument of torture, half like a gesture of infinite intimacy.

At his words, the vine tightened its embrace, just a notch.

“…Hah…” Si Zhiyan tilted his head back, breathing slow and practiced. His thin chest rose and fell, and the bulge of the vine could be seen outlined beneath.

Now, he’d grown accustomed to tolerating this slight, almost affectionate constraint. He leaned his head on the back of the sofa, eyelids drooping, his fingertips brushing the vine at his throat as if it were always a natural part of him.

After a moment, he chuckled softly: “…Thank you, Mr. Bian Xu.”

—Whatever my fate, success or death, I will always be at your side.

……

……

It was a good opportunity, this quest, but very soon a problem emerged.

No one came.

Ye Xianqing slept for over ten hours without the slightest sign of waking. His exhaustion must have been so deep that sleep came in relentless, muddled waves, indifferent to the world outside. In those hours, not a single new guest arrived; only a few waves of prowling anomalies had to be driven back.

Shi He also sent in a report: the anomaly intensity near the cliffs was exceptionally high, far above the average.
Of course, this level of danger was nothing at all to Nidhogg and Shi He. What it meant, though, was that missions posted near the cliffs must target only the strongest batch of players—few in number and widely scattered.

Yet, just as in a certain building-block game, the anti-gravity effect of the lava firestones required a solid anchor, so the hostel had to be built near the cliffs; there was no moving it.

How, then, to draw more guests had become a pressing issue.

Si Zhiyan thought it over and decided the answer might lie with Ye Xianqing.

There was no point asking Ye Xianqing to personally bring others. What mattered was credibility: once news spread and trust was achieved, word of mouth would naturally draw guests in droves. But how to make people believe?

No matter how he talked it up, it sounded like a scam.

So, Si Zhiyan’s figure shimmered and appeared above the hostel.

—He would build a souvenir shop.

The location: right beside the lobby, at the exit of the castle complex.

Clack, clack!

He laid a softly glowing stone floor, raised low railings to enclose the area, and at the edge posted signal beacons, marking the nearby cliff landmarks and directions.

From the very first, Si Zhiyan had wanted a landing pad for the hostel—a place for landing anomalies, perhaps? In any case, to let guests take off with ease when leaving, without crawling through doorways.
All in all, the design here was meant for departing guests to lift off easily.

At the entrance of the landing pad, he designed an outdoor souvenir shop.
After leaving the castle, strolling through the shop and then heading for the launch pad created the perfect flow.

He even made the ground tiles here thin as glass, almost translucent, and layered a real sheet of glass overtop. Molten lava seemed to flow just beneath visitors’ feet, separated only by a film of glass, glowing with an even brighter, orange-red radiance.

Above: the endless black of the abyss. Below: solid stone, with running currents of light.
Behind: the luminous castle; nearby: shelves laden with tasty food and amusing trinkets.

Beautiful, and enough to stir a bittersweet longing.

As for the shop goods, Si Zhiyan first filled half a bakery case with portable breads, biscuits, and Western rations, then brought over suitable convenience store merchandise. After a pause, he called in a service player from the industrial quarter to whip up quick crafts, adding his own clever design touches.

By now, the farm’s population had approached its peak, and the Fantasia Town expanded several times—there was little point in holding another referendum.

Li Cui’e and others had been hard at work; the chosen supervisor was appointed by the small council. His surname was Liu, an outgoing glasses-wearing man, quick-witted.

Mayor Li Cui’e and every area chief each had a little silver bell, signaling for holographic projections at any time.

A responsive client: short-notice demands, risky materials, high urgency—often a bit much to ask.

But Supervisor Liu gave a dazzling smile, agreed instantly, and took the commission from Si Zhiyan without hesitation: “Don’t worry, I’ll see it done. Just come pick it up later.”

Barely two hours later, he rang the signal bell—and handed Si Zhiyan a whole box of exquisitely packaged, carefully designed souvenirs.

Box in hand, Si Zhiyan couldn’t help but glance upward.

The industrial district had multiplied many times over, streams of traffic flowing past; workshops buzzed with activity, worn by industrious hands and faces content with quiet prosperity.

He even caught sight of familiar faces. Bald Wu Jing was still working the forge, though the furnace was now a player’s palm of conjured fire, not coal. The player yawned amid the flames, reading a novel in his free hand, utterly absorbed. Now, not only were service players engaged, but skilled players’ powers were put to good use.

There were some, even battle-capable, who preferred a peaceful, steady life to constant peril, seeking nine-to-five hours, novels, simple routines.

Lately, Si Zhiyan hadn’t devoted much energy to the industrial sector—he knew he wasn’t an expert, and honestly had little interest.

But the farm’s residents innovated and developed on their own initiative. They chose leaders, coordinated, and found more efficient ways to cooperate. So long as you gave these industrious people some breathing space, they would always find ways to make life better.

Moreover, from Supervisor Liu’s gaze and the crowd that subtly gathered round, it was clear the people still regarded the [Farm Owner] with reverence bordering on the divine, gratitude, and some curiosity. None knew better than them how different life was outside the farm.

This was his farm.

Si Zhiyan smiled his thanks and accepted the goods.

His projection faded, returning to the abyss.

He took in the scene and was speechless for a moment.

Shi He, alone on duty, lay atop the sniper tower, picking off anomalies with swift precision. Nidhogg, meanwhile, sprawled on the soft master bed, still slumbering away.

Upon inquiry, Shi He reported that he himself had only risen recently, and had fried up two pork chops to feed himself and his brother—Si Zhiyan noticed, unexpectedly, that Nidhogg was actually quite adept in the kitchen; after all, he’d raised Shi He with his own hands for years. And not half an hour later, Nidhogg had gone back to sleep!

He had shamelessly claimed a guest room, insisting with proud logic: with a bed this comfortable, why let outsiders enjoy it? I may as well take my turn.

To reflect on the diligent regular players, then catch sight of this idleness, really brought out mixed feelings.

Si Zhiyan kicked Nidhogg out of bed.

“You reckless layabout, sick of living—oh, boss, it’s you.”

Roused, Nidhogg’s eyes flashed with fire, and a surge of killing intent with leaping flames exploded from him. In a snap, he caught sight of Si Zhiyan’s stone face, and instantly the flames and killing aura slammed to a halt, meekly snuffed out as he flashed a guilty, hearty smile:

“I thought it was an anomaly snuck in—I was just about to get to work…”

Before he could finish, Si Zhiyan’s mist curled up and lifted him, depositing Nidhogg into the souvenir shop.

Si Zhiyan pointed at the shelves:

“Your job: sell hard. Persuade Ye Xianqing to pick up as many souvenirs as possible—at least twenty, all different kinds, if you can.”
“Understood?”

He’d meant it as a warning, but instead of guilt or resistance, Nidhogg simply grinned wider, stretched back, flashed the OK sign, and gave a lazy yawn.

“Understood. You picked the right man, boss. This is my area of expertise.”

Si Zhiyan: “……”
Why did he suddenly have a bad feeling about this?