Famine 39: Painful Miracle

Painful Miracle (Double Update Combined)

Bzzz—

Before everyone’s eyes, the massive metal doors slowly trembled and opened a gap over a meter wide.
Behind the opening, stairs led downward into darkness—a space utterly unknown.

Beside the doors, the ice sculpture of the High Priest stood, its gaze vague and gentle, almost an invitation.

“So that means, the ones that attacked us on the glacier—the mutant animals marked with the holy insignia—”

Shi He gazed up at the massive gates to the eighteenth underground level, goosebumps crawling along his skin.

“They brought us here on purpose.”
“They—or rather, the High Priest—want us to go in!”

When they had landed, Wang Jianguo had already taken the form of a stately saber-toothed tiger, standing over a meter tall at the shoulder. Shaking the snow from his pelt, he ambled to Shi He’s side and rumbled in human speech, voice thick with suspicion.

“Something’s not right about this, is it?”
“Ever since we cracked the stone over the tomb’s lid, this whole place has been nothing but traps and schemes, a gauntlet every step of the way.”
“How come we finally reach the last, eighteenth level, and suddenly everybody’s so hospitable?”

“It’s like that saying… what is it, hand you a pot and you jump in yourself?”

A teammate next to him swatted the tiger’s hindquarters, “Lure the enemy into the trap, genius.”
Then, rubbing his chin, he raised another concern, “What if this isn’t the real way forward, but just another trap?”

Shi He frowned. “I don’t think so…”

But before he could explain, Zhong Yanqing’s anxious voice called from behind, “Shi He, Shi He! Come quick!”

“Commander Nie is losing too much blood!”

Everyone rushed back to Nie Du’s side.

Nie Du was slumped in Zhong Yanqing’s arms, both his hands all but chewed to raw, bloody bone by the swarm; wet blood and shredded muscle clung disturbingly to what remained.
Uncomfortable with being the focal point, Nie Du tried yet again to rise—only to fail.

Shi He quickly pressed him down. “Don’t move.”

He peeled off his gloves, pressed on Nie Du’s hand—his pupils flashed gray, and his [Backflow] ability activated!

Tattered blood began to surge, winding its way back up along the muscle.

Nie Du was wrapped in his inky black cloak—24/7, as always—with only his hands exposed.
But treating the hands alone was not enough. Shi He reached to open the cloak for further treatment—only for Nie Du to restrain him.

“Not like that.”

Shi He froze and looked up.

“No need to go further,” Nie Du said haltingly, voice even tinged with nervousness, “It’s fine, really. I just need to rest a while.”

Shi He, sharp as ever, immediately understood—Nie Du didn’t want him to lift the cloak.

“Commander, is this really the time for this?” Shi He pressed, and again tugged at the cloak; Nie Du, uncharacteristically stubborn, clung to it for dear life. The two struggled to a standstill.

Zhong Yanqing sobbed in both anger and desperation, “Please, stop it, can’t you?!”

“It’s my fault—you ended up like this because of me.” She broke down, bent over and turning away, holding her hands tightly over her eyes, tears dripping down onto Nie Du. “If anything happened to you here, I… I’d never forgive myself.”

“Please, let us treat you… I’m begging you…”

But Nie Du still ignored her, refusing to meet her eyes, clutching the cloak tighter.

He was unmistakably still bleeding, the cloak already soaked through and staining the snow.

“Sorry, with all due respect, but I can’t let you die over this,” Shi He finally said, voice strained. With one strong movement, he swept back the cloak.

He had prepared himself for any terrible burns or scars. Yet, in the moment he revealed Nie Du’s body, Shi He’s heart still skipped a beat.

—

It was hard to call this a human torso.

Nie Du’s entire trunk was covered in twisted bony spines—clusters as fine as nerves, burrowed deep into his flesh and bone, riddling every inch with wounds.

From the base of the neck, across the chest and waist, even further down—not a patch of skin was left untouched, all covered in countless bleeding holes and pinpricks.

The bone spines still writhed and twitched, crawling along his body in an unnervingly sentient way.

There were indeed burn scars and bite wounds from the insects, but compared to the spines, such deformities were nothing.

Nie Du was more like… a nest.

Nie Du remained silent.

Zhong Yanqing, out of her depth, could only cover her mouth through her tears.

Those masses of bone spines must have been there for a long, long time—Nie Du had simply gotten used to living with them.

Were these a curse? An aberration?

Si Zhiyan suddenly realized something—the bone spines showed no information.

…

With a fingertip against his temple, Si Zhiyan’s phantom avatar reshaped and thinned out into mist, flowing down into the icy depths.

Shi He said nothing, channeling [Backflow].

[Backflow] was his signature ability, reversing the flow of water in time. So long as some part of Shi He’s body could touch it, rivers could reverse, spilt water re-gathered. He used it habitually to reverse bleeding in allies—a useful medical skill.

But he could only reverse blood loss, not stop bleeding entirely; it was a stopgap in dire situations that required continued output and great effort.

At some point, a faint mist spread and began to shroud them.

Focused wholly on [Backflow], Shi He didn’t notice.
When he finally looked up again, he found a mug of hot milk—pain-relieving and hemostatic—and a bowl of sea salt ice cream for detoxifying Zhong Yanqing’s snake venom had been placed on the ground before him.

A surge of warmth filled Shi He’s heart. “Contract-bearer, is that you?”

The mist drifted in silent answer.

And there, seated in his farmhouse, Si Zhiyan at last heard what he had yearned to hear.

[Linked-type Cursed Tale Artifact, avatar in contact.]
[Linked-type Cursed Tale Artifact owner, avatar in contact.]

[Conditions met, parsing curse…]
[Parsing complete.]

[Chosen Weapon – Skeletal Ferry]
Welcome to the ranks of the Chosen. The Main God casts a glance your way.
Greetings,
Merciful Death, Nie Du.

[Special Enhancement—Painful Miracle]
The Main God has answered your prayers, delivering a sacred miracle upon you.
From this moment, the following parts of your body will be Chosen Weapon-enhanced:

Take the skull, as the foundation of all existence;
Peel off the skin, as a shield against outside threats;
Draw out joy, to purge from within with sharpened blades;
Erase emotion, to broaden the heart for all living things.

From this moment forth, you will lose a healthy body, lose a normal appearance, lose all capacity for happiness or joy, lose all sense of feeling.
Your authority stems from your flesh, but your greatest wealth is the obsessive fantasy rooted in your heart.
Accept the Painful Miracle with gratitude.

—

So, that’s why.

Si Zhiyan drew a slow, deep breath.

He had long harbored his suspicions. Andersen’s [Magic Mask], Shi He’s [Backflow] and rifle—these seemed like powerful relics but in truth were only extensions of their bearers’ own “blessings.” More like symbols of identity than anything else.

So then, what made [Chosen Weapons] so monstrous, so dreaded? What did it mean that “the Main God casts a glance your way”?

—The answer lay here.

The true meaning of [Chosen] was the “Main God’s Selection.” To become Chosen was to gain the right to pray to the Main God.

Nie Du, driven by a desperate urge to save others, had surely faced something incredibly cruel.

At his darkest, near the brink, he prayed to the Main God.

That night, kneeling in agony, he begged for the strength to protect more. To save more.

And the Main God granted him the [Painful Miracle].

Si Zhiyan closed his eyes, rubbing his brow.

He should have noticed. Among the Skeletal Ferry’s resistance, most were old players like Sha Tong and Zhong Manwen, who had followed Commander Nie for years, treating him with reverence nearly holy in nature. Just having “once fought side by side with Commander Nie” could rally these people to sacrifice all for the Ferry, to rise up against Gu Haoping.

A merciful machine without feeling could earn respect and gratitude, but not hearts.
Nie Du must once have been a stern but gentle leader.

After the [Painful Miracle], Nie Du gained the Ferry and the ability to build a perfect sanctuary.
All those he’d sought to protect did not die in vain; thousands of qualified and service players flourished beneath his wing, surviving these years of storm and strife under his shelter. He built a utopia from his own strength.

Yet Nie Du himself could no longer feel a thing.

Sha Tong grew confused; Gu Haoping became estranged. Formerly close comrades drifted away, incomprehensible to him, and he couldn’t even see where he’d gone wrong. He couldn’t grasp why Gu Haoping and Sha Tong turned on each other, or recognize what his settlement had become.

All joy departed him. Only the blood and pain of struggle in Famine remained real.
Nie Du simply wore a false smile, full of hope, grateful for the Main God’s “blessing.”

He was acting. Acting normal.

Devoid of feeling, he could no longer share in the happiness of others—likely, he’d long since forgotten why he wanted to save anyone at all.
He only maintained a near-obsessive resolve to keep saving, to keep feeding.

So, when death drew near, Nie Du’s expression was one of relief.

And now, he had become the one needing rescue. Shi He breathed out at last; Zhong Yanqing wept for joy; those he’d saved celebrated for him, brought him hot milk, assured him he could go on living…

Si Zhiyan saw clearly as Nie Du shut his eyes and swallowed the milk, his deformed face curving into an utterly exhausted smile.

It looked almost like hollow joy.

It was too much. Si Zhiyan thought.
A nameless rage blazed in his heart. He pressed hard against his brow, taking a long pause, before forcing himself to keep thinking.
Was this so-called “Main God” not going too far?

But wallowing in emotion was pointless.

Nie Du’s current state was purely the result of blind faith warped by the Main God. He was convinced that if he just kept working hard, all would turn out for the best.

If he were simply told, “Your Skeletal Ferry is doomed, a civil war is raging, come help me”—he’d most likely only shake his head with a false smile and declare it impossible.

How could you make him believe?

Watching as Team Xu Bei made camp for rest, Si Zhiyan fell into deep thought.

…………
……

[Day 12 / 5:30 AM / Skeletal Ferry / Current Farm Satiety: 25%]
[Time until uprising deadline: 3 days]

—Why did Commander Nie give you the power of the Skeletal Ferry?
What makes you special?
All of you walked this road together—what sets you apart?

Countless people had asked this question, in all sorts of tones—curious, angry, even despairing.

Only Gu Haoping himself knew the answer.

Dawn had not yet come; the world lay in thick darkness. For what must have been the thousandth time, Gu Haoping jerked awake from a nightmare, slumping against his pillow and reaching, trembling, for a tube of nutrient paste.

Thunk!

A sudden dart of pain made his waist give out; he lost his balance and tumbled to the floor in a heap.

……

Lying curled on the floor in shadow, each breath burned. He was nothing but skin and bone, his spine, scapula, and vertebrae sharply etched under the thin pajamas.

Along his back, bone spines slapped and crawled slowly under the skin.

The power of the Skeletal Ferry was not given him by Nie Du; he stole it at knifepoint.

Everyone knew Commander Nie was wrong—but whether it was injury, stubbornness, or his refusal to burden others, he wouldn’t talk.
Only Gu Haoping, the favored one, occasionally glimpsed behind the curtain.

To this day, Gu Haoping remembered the moment he discovered the truth—the world crashing down around him.

“Is the Skeletal Ferry using you as fuel, Brother Nie?” He’d clung to Nie Du, grabbing his collar, tears and rage boiling over. “You’re failing, aren’t you? You can’t even keep up a Chosen’s power. If this keeps up, you’ll die!”

Gu Haoping had been a wreck, voice hoarse and broken, utterly undone, no longer himself.

He’d clung to Brother Nie—the reliable, slightly nagging Brother Nie, who would draw him aside for a heartfelt talk anytime he slacked off. Just like a parent, sometimes enough to make anyone resentful.

But at that moment, Nie Du only remained calm and confused, gently patting his hand.
On his melted face, there was no telling what he felt.

“It’s fine.” Nie Du said. “I can last a while yet.”

“And what’s ‘a while’ supposed to mean? Don’t you even care about me? If you die, what… how am I supposed to live?”
Half the words were swallowed back with blood.

He knew, nothing he said mattered.

In the end, Gu Haoping hunched over, straddling Nie Du, gripping his collar, forcing out the words in a desperate whisper:

“…then at least let me bear some of it.”

Nie Du seemed unable to grasp why his clever, obedient junior would do such a thing, even now, still scolding, “Why are you doing this, kid? This is no good…”

“Enough!”
Gu Haoping shouted.

He raised the knife Nie Du had given him, twirling it skillfully in his hand—a flash of cold light—and pressed it to his own thin throat.

His hand shook so badly he couldn’t control it, slicing into flesh. Blood dripped down the blade.

Eyes bloodshot, Gu Haoping spat out each word:
“Don’t you want to save people? Brother Nie, I’m going to die—will you save me?”

“Give me part of the Skeletal Ferry’s power. At least a third.”

Perhaps Painful Miracle’s effect remained—Nie Du’s composure finally broke; for the first time, panic showed as he reached to stop Gu Haoping. “Don’t… don’t do this, Haoping…”

But Gu Haoping held fast, even pressing deeper. “Give it to me.”

“No, you kid—”

“…Fine, fine, take it. You always have your way.”

Nie Du’s voice, forever helpless and gentle, just as Gu Haoping loved—always indulging him, never knowing what to do with him.

At that moment, a single thought rooted itself deep in Gu Haoping’s heart—

The Skeletal Ferry must be destroyed.

If he couldn’t defeat the Main God, couldn’t persuade Nie Du, he would have to strike from another angle.

He would make the parasites on Brother Nie all die—every last one.

Gu Haoping scrubbed at his hair, forcing down his emotions, step by step plotting for Nie Du.

“Brother Nie, you must keep fighting. If you weren’t Chosen, in charge of a settlement this size, let alone aberrations, the other players could tear you apart.”
“Brother Nie—when you’re outside, you have to pretend. You can’t let anyone see your weakness. I’ll order you a cloak; the death god theme fits your title, so outsiders shouldn’t suspect.”
“Sha Tong will get suspicious, but don’t mind him. He’s not so bright—just assign him to command the Guard. Play it normal, meet with him sometimes, I’ll show you how…”

“Brother Nie…”

“Brother Nie…”

Brother Nie, it hurts so much.

Have you always lived in so much pain?

In the shadow by the bed’s foot, Gu Haoping gripped the nutrient paste, lying in the pre-dawn hours of the Skeletal Ferry. Morning sunlight crept in through the window but had nothing to do with him. He didn’t need it.

The body of a qualified player never failed. Only Gu Haoping, since taking on the Ferry’s power, had never truly recovered. The Skeletal Ferry’s Painful Miracle was meant for a Chosen; it was the finest leech, the top blood parasite. For an ordinary player to receive it was a torment no body could bear. All the enhancements from the Main God’s shop meant nothing.

It was past nine when Gu Haoping at last felt somewhat better.

Leaning against the bed, he shoved the nutrient tube in his mouth and forced it down, as usual.

When he changed clothes, he buttoned the very top, rolled his shoulders—and returned to being the ever-sinister, unassailable Gu Haoping.

He opened the door.

Creak.

The bone door gave a soft sound. Gu Haoping lowered his eyes and saw Captain Yang waiting outside.

Captain Yang, always cautious and discerning, sat in the command hall with just half his weight on the chair. As soon as Gu Haoping appeared, he hurried up with a cordial smile and a deep bow:

“Commander Gu, your foresight is uncanny!

“We caught them—the threadmites were up to something last night…”

By the door, a service player crouched at knife point, three bayonets aimed at his trembling, tear-stained face, eyes fixed in terror on the corner.

Hands behind his back, Gu Haoping listened to Yang’s report.

Captain Yang hunched, guessing at Gu Haoping’s thoughts, stealing glances at his expression. But unexpectedly, all Gu Haoping did was nod softly.

“I see.”
He smiled faintly, shaking his head, voice gentle as air.
“Impressive work.”

Captain Yang, unsure what to think, watched as Gu Haoping walked to the corner and patted the player’s face.

“Hey, threadmite.”

The player, sobbing, shrank back, quivering, speechless.

Gu Haoping didn’t mind, continuing, “I don’t ask for much—just a little favor. Really, just a small favor.”

“You said before… that farm rift, it can take Cursed Tale Artifacts, right?”

With a soft hum, Gu Haoping drew his left-hand revolver, [Wailing Bone Requiem], and spun the cylinder—clack, clack, clack—locking it in place.
His smile, half-hidden in shadow, made his eyes glint green. In a quiet, pleasant voice, he said a few words.

“…”

The player’s eyes went wide with horror: “No way! I can’t—I really can’t… That farm saved my life!”

He nearly collapsed, clutching Gu Haoping’s pant leg and pleading at the top of his lungs:
“Please, please, Commander Gu, I really can’t do it! Captain Sha Tong will never let me go… just kill me, Commander Gu, just kill—!”

Before he could finish, Gu Haoping only smiled gently, raising one finger to press against his lips, “Shh… shh. Don’t panic, relax, relax.”

“I remember you—you came to the Skeletal Ferry, I did your intake myself.”

“Your surname is Liu, you work in freight, your wife is gravely ill at home, right?”

The player shuddered violently and looked up, mouth opening and closing in wordless fear.

Gu Haoping ignored him, lowering his head and examining his own fingers, almost to himself, light and cheerful:

“—Your wife loves you so much. If I were you, at least I’d make sure she had a good ending.”

“Having her last days be so full of pain… that can’t be easy.”

“Am I right?”