ATIGIBTC Chapter 12

«Let go of that, Creator! Let me do it!!!»

“The outer layer of the armor might be susceptible to parasitization, but the inner layers are designed to prevent that. By utilizing wind force and air pressure, non-human mechanisms forcibly compact dust and sand onto the inner walls, creating a natural barrier. This three-layered system effectively blocks Nightmare Beast seeds from infiltrating, which is why the armor is so heavy,” one researcher explained.

“According to Mr. Min, the only way to eliminate seeds from the surface is to burn it off. This involves incinerating the plant matter and breaking the non-human layer. The firelight suppresses the activity of the seeds, freeing the wearer inside. However, the human body inside would undoubtedly suffer severe damage in the process.”

“If the activity conditions of Nightmare Beast seeds are indeed as Mr. Min described, this armor does have a practical use. But given its nature, it requires constant maintenance. Once a layer is damaged, it must be repaired immediately. This design seems tailored to exploit mercenaries, tying their survival to the armor’s upkeep. So, should we suspect, Mr. Min, that your loyalty might lean toward a certain ‘mobile city’?”

All the researchers turned their eyes to Min Zhizhou, their expressions unified in suspicion. Their gazes, though subtle, carried an unmistakable pressure. He Fang, watching from the side, clicked his tongue in amazement.

He Fang thought: This game is so intricate! Even with the high cost of the sensory simulation pod, it feels completely worth it.

Min Zhizhou hadn’t expected that simply delivering information would result in such suspicion. Sweating nervously, he looked at the group of “scholarly” researchers in their white lab coats, all of whom somehow exuded an aura that made him feel his life was in danger.

Although Min Zhizhou wasn’t clear about the true capabilities of these researchers, even their expressions made him uneasy.

To avoid being labeled an invader and potentially eliminated, Min Zhizhou quickly clarified, “I’m just a mercenary. Buying armor is purely a matter of survival and has nothing to do with loyalty to any particular city.”

“How can we be sure you’re telling the truth? Words alone aren’t enough. We need to test you,” one of the researchers stated.

“Alright,” Min Zhizhou agreed without hesitation.

He knew that even the slightest hesitation would deepen their doubts. In front of these absolute elites, he dared not make the smallest misstep.

Meanwhile, He Fang sat nearby, munching on sunflower seeds while observing the scene. Though he wasn’t sure if this was part of a storyline quest, the sight of these serious researchers in lab coats looked undeniably cool.

One researcher approached, holding a small object. He Fang squinted at it—it appeared to be a small metallic patch with a display screen showing data he couldn’t comprehend.

“What’s that?” He Fang asked.

When the researcher turned to him, the previously cold demeanor softened instantly, replaced by a flattering tone. “City Lord, this is a lie detector.”

“Huh? Is it reliable?” He Fang asked. He knew that lie detectors in real life were only auxiliary tools, far from infallible. But perhaps the game mechanics were different.

“Please don’t worry, City Lord,” another researcher said with a smile. “Even if it makes a mistake, it’s just an insignificant outsider. If he dies, he dies.”

“Why are you targeting Min Zhizhou like this? Are you just looking for fun?” He Fang glanced at Min Zhizhou, who remained expressionless, quietly accepting every experiment meant to clear him of suspicion.

He Fang couldn’t afford to let his sole source of external information, this NPC, get killed by the researchers. So, he suggested, “Can I try it out first?”

“Ah? Of course! Absolutely!” The researcher was overjoyed by He Fang’s suggestion. “City Lord, this way, please.”

“Huh? Do I have to go into a small room? Then why bring the lie detector out here in the first place?” He Fang asked, puzzled, as he followed a noticeably younger male researcher toward a room on the other side.

The moment He Fang disappeared from view, the researchers behind him, who had previously been calm and composed, erupted into a heated argument, their polite demeanor giving way to fierce competitiveness.

Min Zhizhou, seated in a corner with his tall frame hunched over on a small stool, tried his best to minimize his presence, hoping to avoid being dragged into the chaos.

“In terms of qualifications, contributions, and achievements, I’m the best! My overall strength is unmatched—I’m obviously the one who should perform the Creator’s lie detector test!”

“But I’m better looking! People from the Creator’s side always favor the most attractive ones. My facial rating is the highest here!”

“Excuse me! I’m the closest in age to the Creator. Over there, they say three years create a generation gap. The Creator would obviously feel more comfortable interacting with someone closer in age!”

Their arguments grew increasingly impassioned, their faces red with fervor. Min Zhizhou glanced in the direction where He Fang had been taken and cautiously spoke up, “Uh… didn’t the researcher who just took the City Lord in already start the test? He hasn’t come out yet.”

The room fell into an awkward, oppressive silence.

“Damn it! Check the surveillance! I need to see the surveillance footage!” Suddenly, all the researchers in the room sprang into action.

“No way! That’s the Creator’s private space—we can’t spy on it recklessly!”

“Audio! Just give me audio—anything! Even a single word of the Creator’s thoughts will suffice!”

“Who’s the person closest to the Creator? Contact them now! See if the Creator can grant us access permissions!”

Min Zhizhou’s deep, dark pupils reflected the scene of utter chaos. The once dignified, graceful, and articulate researchers, all with stunning appearances, had transformed into a noisy, chaotic mess the moment He Fang left.

Meanwhile, He Fang was led into a quiet, pristine white room. The bright, sterile atmosphere, paired with the meticulously arranged lab equipment inside the cabinets, made the place look almost unreal—like rows of perfectly copy-pasted game assets.

The young researcher standing before him seemed frozen, his eyes fixed on He Fang, who was lying on what resembled a surgical table.

After waiting for a long time without the researcher speaking, He Fang frowned. Was the game lagging? Had the story not loaded properly?

“Hey,” He Fang called out, trying to refresh the task sequence.

“Uh… Cough, cough. City Lord, could you raise your hand and reveal your upper body? Due to the lie detector’s requirements, it needs direct contact with your body,” the researcher said, coughing a few times to ease the awkwardness. He Fang found the setup amusing—such a detailed design, even including reactions to reduce awkwardness when load times were extended.

“Sure,” He Fang replied, completely unbothered by the NPC. He tugged at his shirt and removed it without hesitation.

Because the pod replicated players’ real-life physiques, He Fang’s build was naturally sleek and well-proportioned. His small frame, though slender, wasn’t lacking definition. His elegant lines, slim waist, and harmonious proportions gave off an aesthetic appeal that was hard to ignore.

The researcher’s gaze froze. He Fang called out with another “Hey”, trying to refresh the loading sequence.

The researcher inhaled sharply, quickly averting his gaze. Suddenly, his phone rang. When answering, he deliberately turned his back to He Fang, leaving He Fang puzzled. Was he not allowed to hear NPC phone calls?

The young researcher, meanwhile, was in shock, unable to process the impact of seeing the Creator’s body. His mind, accustomed to using data to evaluate beauty, was now overwhelmed by a purely subjective admiration for He Fang’s form. The sheer presence of He Fang rewrote his aesthetic standards, forcing him into awe and reverence.

The phone call was a timely distraction. Turning away, the researcher tried to contain his excitement but couldn’t prevent a sudden nosebleed from embarrassment. Hastily, he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his nose, ensuring the Creator wouldn’t notice anything inappropriate.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. The researcher repeated to himself in an attempt to regain composure.

On the other end of the line was the research director, whose deliberately hushed tone painted a vivid mental image for the young researcher—a normally confident and suave superior, now anxiously waiting outside the room, hesitant to enter but desperate for updates.

After hanging up, the researcher discreetly pocketed his blood-stained handkerchief. He glanced at He Fang, who was seated on the operating table, but immediately had to look away. The brilliance of He Fang’s form threatened to overwhelm his focus. To distract himself, he silently recited random, meaningless numbers from the last experiment report.

“Creator, may I ask… can this lie detector test be observed by others?” the young researcher finally asked, harboring a small, selfish hope. He didn’t want the other researchers to see the Creator’s effortless grace.

“As long as you don’t ask any embarrassing or difficult questions, it’s fine,” He Fang replied confidently, trusting that the NPCs’ queries would have been pre-approved and wouldn’t cross any boundaries.

The young researcher’s heart sank ever so slightly. Deep down, he had fantasized about holding a unique position in the Creator’s eyes. As the first person in the city to witness the Creator’s form, he felt this alone could be his claim to fame for life!

“Of course. We would never trouble the Creator. If there’s a question you don’t wish to answer, just remain silent, and I’ll skip it automatically,” the young researcher assured, deliberately looking elsewhere to avoid being dazzled by the Creator’s form. If he didn’t shift his attention, he feared he might lose the ability to even formulate questions.

However, as his gaze wandered, the researcher noticed something near the Creator that shouldn’t exist in this environment. His mind blanked. He froze on the spot.

“What’s wrong?” He Fang noticed that the researcher’s gaze wasn’t focused on him, and asked in confusion. He was about to turn his head to see what the researcher was staring at through the window behind him.

“Please… don’t turn around!” The researcher immediately stopped him, his voice tight with anxiety, his face twitching with panic. “Please stay in this position.”

“…Is it because of the lie detector’s requirements?” He Fang asked, his expression growing impatient. He was getting tired of all this hassle and regretted choosing this side quest.

“No… it’s… it’s not that… I…” The young researcher was in a panic, unsure whether to fabricate a lie to deceive the Creator.

“Alright, alright, hurry up then. I won’t turn around. Just get it over with,” He Fang urged, feeling uncomfortable with the eerie chill on his back. His instincts were telling him to put his shirt back on quickly.

The young researcher breathed a quiet sigh of relief, though his expression remained tense and rigid.

Behind He Fang, outside the window, golden, sunlit, long hair cascaded down—like a divine blessing from the sun god. Even the most disdainful and rejecting onlookers would still admire the flawless face of the one it belonged to. But now, that person was pressing down the head of a monstrous creature that seemed to share a symbiotic existence, one attempting to peer in. The beast’s eyes, which could trap anyone who gazed into them, were locked onto He Fang’s back, filled with a disturbing, lurid desire.

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