Famine 156: Roots

That night, Kazuko gathered Sizhiyan and Zhong Yanqing, along with many familiar samurai, and together they enjoyed a lively meal of sukiyaki.

Things did not go entirely smoothly. Some people were even more silent than the Yamada samurai—no words could persuade them to come; some said they felt unworthy of the favor, others were willing to have the girls of their line meet their end. These people had changed so much that even Kazuko could hardly recognize them.

Yet more samurai answered her call, willing to leave this land where their roots ran deep, and share a steaming bowl from the pot.

Though the Yamada samurai had lost an arm, he simply set his bowl on the ground and ate the meat one-handed. The spectral forms of other samurai hardly retained a human shape, now reduced to bony scraps of flesh and bone, expending all their strength just to raise a cup in toast.

Sizhiyan saw with his own eyes a samurai whose upper body had been crushed, binding the tip of his blade to the jagged stump of his bone, at a loss for what to do. So he rose and fetched the man a bowl, prepared the egg mixture, piled it high with tofu, konjac, and beef, and set it before the half-bodied samurai.

With visible excitement, the man nodded to Sizhiyan, raised the blade tip, and speared the tofu—soaked in egg and sukiyaki sauce—then stuffed it into what remained of his body. His flesh and blood squirmed for a moment before swallowing it down.

No matter their condition, no matter what they had endured… after a thousand years, the bravest souls of this blessed land once again gathered together, surrounding Kazuko, Sizhiyan, and the others, laughing and quarreling, tears brimming at the corners of their eyes.

The same warm, bustling atmosphere of long ago returned to this old site of fortune.

Only this time, standing atop the mountain peak was no longer an enshrined local god, but the farm itself.

The next day, Sizhiyan issued a decree forbidding anyone from attacking the Blackthorn Forest.

He did not explain much to the players. Yet thanks to Mr. Si’s longstanding authority, the players said little. They accepted it with a kind of confused compliance.

Though they did not know why, they knew the farm owner would never harm them.
Perhaps it was the curse of those trees—just not yet discovered?

If there was no curse, then so be it. Whatever may come, all things the farm owner did surely had their reasons!

Sizhiyan was not surprised by this outcome.
In fact, he was quite pleased.

He stood on the veranda of his hut, gazing into the distance at Illusion Town, and sighed softly.

The famine game had run for more than seven years. In the days before, “settlements” were always loose gathering points.

Within a settlement, there was a certain degree of protection. Players could pause there for rest and supplies, come and go freely, take up quests, live and die on their own.

After the farm was established, this balance was broken completely.
The ringing of the pickaxe at the “Gem Domain Mine” marked the beginning of the first truly player-built settlement producing a stable energy source in the history of the famine game.

This was the trumpet of a new era.

Sizhiyan knew it; Nie Du knew it. Truly, everyone knew.

Sizhiyan always found, in all sorts of places, a yearning in people to follow something.

If the people had to put their faith in someone, if they needed someone to lead them forward and carry their trust—

Then so what if that person was him?

He could do the job better than anyone else.

Standing in the wind, Sizhiyan gazed out at the farm, watching the teeming, bustling crowds, each busy at their tasks, the place flourishing with life.

But with this, a new problem emerged:
With the Blackthorn Forest off-limits, Sizhiyan needed a place for training.

A proper space was an urgent necessity.

Now, all of the available terrain and plots on the farm had nearly been developed. There was not much extra empty land left.

That left only one possibility—

Sizhiyan held in his hand the black “Ashen Bloom—Abyss,” and gently stroked the vine.

“Give me something good,” he murmured. “Give me a place where I can fully stretch my limbs and practice combat. Somewhere we can fight freely, pursue each other, tough and dangerous, but within safe limits.”

The vine was motionless for a while, as if lost in thought.

“Can you do that?” Sizhiyan asked.

The vine returned to itself and nuzzled him with vigor.

Then Sizhiyan lifted his hand and tossed the flower into the air. In the blink of an eye, the vine leapt up and snapped up the blossom in its jaws, swallowing it whole with all the drifting black fragments.

Awoomph!

[Ding! [Ashen Bloom—Abyss] has been consumed.]

[Digesting %（￥%………]
[%Ter-rain generation in progress…LOADING…]

After a burst of ear-splitting static, a lively tune began to play.

[Ding! Legendary Terrain—Abyss has opened its entrance to you!]
[The Dayless Corner—Abyss is now open!]

Boom!

Suddenly, a quake shook the entire farm, so violent that even those in Illusion Town could feel it.

Amid the rumble, rocks tumbled and the ground gave way. At the farthest western edge of the farm, beyond the Gem Domain’s western side—

Sizhiyan rose into the air and looked down.

—At the farm’s westernmost boundary, a massive, inky-black abyssal cliff had appeared out of nowhere.

Black clouds churned above the chasm, the air murky and damp, swirling in strange vortices.

No… this abyss… there was something jarringly wrong about it.

Sizhiyan watched it for a while.

From the Gem Domain of the farm, one could walk all the way west, and at the very edge, reach the abyss.
But from outside the farm, looking from the west back to its main grounds, there was still nothing but the usual sturdy wall.

Outside, the sky was clear, everything looked harmonious and unchanged.
Only from inside looking out could one see the deep, decaying abyss that had grown into the heart of the farm.

Sizhiyan landed, standing at the brink of the abyss, peering into its depths.

A pungent reek of blood hung in the air within, and faintly, he could hear collapsing wails and furious howls.

…

[Dayless Corner—Abyss]

In a certain shadowed corner where no day ever dawned, someone heard the call of the Other.

The Other longed for something terrible, something dangerous.

But there was nothing like that left here. No enemies, no filth belonged in this place.

He said he would always stay with the Other, that he would give the Other all that he possessed.

He exhausted every idea, searched for any method, racking his brains for some dirty, dangerous thing to find in this patch of pure land. But it was all in vain.

…

Until, at last, he found himself.

Within the [Dayless Abyss], there would randomly spawn a multitude of twisted ██, each in some way connected to the core of the farm.
Their number was countless, their forms grotesque and mismatched, limbs askew, often reeking of rot and blood—a normal phenomenon.

██ were highly aggressive and would indiscriminately attack any living thing in sight. Avoid detection at all costs. Killing ███ would not harm the core of the farm.

The danger they posed increased with depth, layer by layer.

There was no end to the Abyss. Enter only at your own risk.

At the lowest tier of the Abyss, grew a mass of [Roots of the Tale Seed].

[Special Warning]
Please protect yourself. Do not let them kill you.
…
Please, I beg you.

——

Though made up of cold, indifferent words, Sizhiyan clearly read a note of pleading from those final characters.

He was momentarily stunned.

His fingertips rested on the vine, stroking it gently.

The vine was uncharacteristically quiet, lying against Sizhiyan’s collar, only barely shifting in response to his touch, otherwise still.

Though this would cause no tangible harm, dragging these things up and unleashing them unsettled it, almost to breaking point. When the howls echoed out, every leaf and tendril of the vine trembled.

Sizhiyan exhaled gently. “…Thank you.”

A knot of mixed feelings welled up inside him. After a while, he did his best to ease his tone: “There’s no need for this, Other… I…”

He only needed a training ground. Important, yes, but not so important that the Other should put itself through such distress.

This thought circled at the back of Sizhiyan’s throat, but in the end he couldn’t say it aloud.

Wasn’t it always like this? Bian Xu—or rather, the farm—would always treat every word Sizhiyan spoke as sacred. As in the depths of the Abyssal Hotel, Bian Xu needed only a single sentence from Sizhiyan. Once spoken, no matter how difficult, he would see it done at all costs.

No matter life or death, success or failure, he would always stand by your side.

He always gave his all.

…but just what were these ███ spawned in the abyss? What did they mean to the farm’s core—or rather, to Bian Xu?

Sizhiyan grew more uneasy, his lips pressed tight, hand gripping the vine ever more firmly.

What state was Bian Xu in now?

He thought back, dimly, to that abyss-lit turf, the golden-haired youth shining radiant as the dawn.

A restless urgency welled in Sizhiyan. Even after living anchored to the farm for so long, he still knew far too little about it.

Why had this “farm” appeared in the famine game at all?

What was the system, why had it sought him out?

And what did Bian Xu mean to this farm?

[At the lowest tier of the Abyss, grew a mass of [Roots of the Tale Seed].]

That description must hide its true meaning. Should he go see for himself?

Sizhiyan hesitated.

[Roots of the Tale Seed]…

The Tale Seeds in the farm had always grown straight from the seedling beds. That soil could not be dug up; no one had ever seen their roots.

But the phrase was so familiar, as if he’d seen it somewhere before.

Where was it—

Ah.

Suddenly, in a flash of inspiration, the memory burst through in Sizhiyan’s mind.

That first encounter, the day he first stepped into the farm’s basement, deep in the black, man-eating underground, he saw a plaque—

[Young Master of the Farm, welcome to the Haunted Farm.]
[Please remember the following rules:]

1. The Farm Owner is supreme.
2. The Farm spans dimensions.
3. You must never let the Farm feel hunger.
4. Planting a haunted object in the Farm will produce a Tale Seed. Tale Seeds are safe and beneficial; you may use them freely.
5. The roots of the Tale Seed must never be observed, never consumed, never come in contact with your body fluids. Unless you are prepared.
6. You must not let the Farm feel hunger.
7. It is correct for crops to love the Farm.
8. It is wrong for players to fear the Farm.
9. The Farm must never go hungry.

——

[5. The roots of the Tale Seed must never be observed, never consumed, never come in contact with your body fluids. Unless… you are prepared.]