Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 202 No one tasted the feast.
Not all delicious food is meant to be eaten.
Some of them are there to see you suffer when you swallow.

A deathly silence spreads before the jigsaw puzzle wall, like a dark well swallowing light and reason.

"Only three are correct." The fat doll's last words echoed in their minds like the crunching sound of chewing cartilage.

It's gone, but the verdict seems to linger.

All eyes were fixed on the line of misspelled letters—F, E, A, S, T.

It sits silently embedded in the wall, like a trap waiting to harvest souls. No single character tells you whether it's right or wrong; it only serves to gnaw at your deepest fears when you touch it.

Rudolf stood before the cold, gleaming wall, his hand gripping the long-useless wooden plaque tightly.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the runes, yet he was at a loss: "Which three places are correct? Which three places are wrong? Which stroke, which line, what exactly are we missing?"

There was no response. Even the wind seemed to have stopped breathing.

Wang Yichen stood there, head slightly lowered, cold sweat slowly sliding down his hairline.

His eyes held a structure on the verge of collapse, as if a facade stretched to its limit was crumbling beneath them. He tried to look up, but found his shoulders trembling slightly.

“I… I remember it wasn’t like that…” His voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

The next second, he abruptly raised his head, his eyes instantly filled with anger, the confusion in them replaced by rage. He crushed his fear, infused it into his voice, and unleashed a sharp, questioning outburst.

"You—" he pointed at the three sorcerers, his voice hoarse yet almost manic, "just stood there and watched from beginning to end!?"

"We risked our lives to taste the food, to piece together the puzzles, to die!" He took a sudden step forward, like a wild beast trapped in a deadly predicament.
"And what about you? What do you have? Abilities, cards, life runes—you have everything, yet you stand in the background without uttering a word! What exactly do you want?! We... are just your test subjects, aren't we?!"

His voice was like thunder, shattering the silence.

Eileen covered her ears with her hands, sobbing as she cried, "This is hell... We thought it was just a dungeon, but it's a slaughterhouse..."

Fujimiya Sumire hugged her arms tightly, cowering behind Vera, her whole body trembling.

Duan Xingzhou stepped forward and roared in a low voice, "Weren't you the strongest? Didn't you say you could cross worlds and fight madmen? Then why are you making us die now?"

His voice was deep and resonant, as if it were anger being forced out from the deepest part of his chest.

Rudolf also stepped forward, his eyes no longer filled with confusion, but with barely suppressed anger and resistance.

“If you really need someone to taste it—then I will.”

As he spoke, he stood in front of the stall, his back straight, but his voice was heavy, “But you must watch me die. Don’t stand on the overpass like a god looking down on us anymore.”

The air seemed to freeze, as if static pressure was pressing down on everyone before it rained.

The God of Fate finally made his move.

He took a step forward, his steps steady, his expression still as calm as still water. He didn't argue, didn't rebuke, and didn't offer any explanation. He simply stood there, facing the torrent of emotions rushing towards him.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low but clear enough to pierce everyone's ears. "Do you want me to eat it for you? Or do you want us to gamble with the cards for you?"

He raised an eyebrow slightly, as if he were sneering, or as if he were trying to confirm a cruel fact.

"Do you want a god, or a butcher?"

Wang Yichen's Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to speak, but he found himself suddenly deprived of the power of language. The lines he had rehearsed in his mind lost their power under those cold eyes.

He looked into the eyes of the God of Fate, and there was no anger, not even pity, in them.

—Only pure clarity.

Vera finally stepped forward, gently placing her hand on Rudolf's shoulder. Her voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable, tender pressure.

“We never deny that we are not you.”

"But if your anger stems from a desire to survive, then listen to us."

Her voice was like a candle flame, igniting the air filled with disbelief and fear.

“We will take action,” Zhuang Yege’s voice rang out, as if pushing this emotional standoff to a new turning point, “but you will also pay a price—at least, don’t try to command us.”

Si Ming sighed, took a step back, and stood at the edge of the crowd. He didn't look at Wang Yichen again, but only whispered:
"Fate is not something that doesn't exist just because you don't believe in it."

Everyone was silent.

At the back of the crowd, Xu Jinxiao still smiled, the faint curve at the corner of her mouth like someone watching a drama that had just begun to unfold—the script for the second act had finally been turned.

Then, there was a soft sigh.

"...No, you don't need to go."

Vera spoke slowly, her voice gentle yet like a stone falling on water, breaking the almost agonizing silence.

She stepped out from the crowd, her long, golden-brown hair gleaming with a pale golden glow under the lights, like a fragment of a broken myth left behind on earth.

Her eyes were as calm as a lake, and her tone was gentle yet carried an undeniable firmness:
"Let me do it."

She raised her right hand, her index finger and thumb gently overlapping. A holy white light ignited from her fingertip, condensing into a radiant pendant of an inverted cross. It hovered in her palm for a moment before slowly disappearing into her life lines.

“My 'angel of hymns' will protect me,” she whispered, a conviction that even death could not break, as soft as chanting a sacred incantation, yet as sharp as judgment.

The atmosphere trembled slightly.

“Vera,” Si Ming finally spoke, his voice low and deep, like steel soaked in old wine, “No.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with gentle incomprehension: "You want me to stand here and watch them go to their deaths one by one?"

Siming pointed to the star chart on her left wrist, where nine stars shone brightly arranged like the orbits of stars:

“You know very well what the price is for a high-level Fate-type mystery. Your hymn can protect us once, twice… but we haven’t made it to ‘night’ yet.”

His tone was completely flat, yet it was as if he had already foreseen the approaching abyss and collapse.

Zhuang Yege spoke up from the side, his expression as indifferent as ever, but his voice revealed a rare regret: "If only we had a life-type mystic among us... they could taste the food instead of burning stars."

The air froze again.

A second later, Si Ming smiled.

The smile was faint, yet carried a hint of near-provocation: "Who said...we didn't?"

The moment he finished speaking, everyone instinctively turned their heads. He slowly turned to the side, his gaze falling on the shadows behind the crowd.

"Celian."

As if it had been prepared all along, a figure as dazzling as a crimson moon slowly stepped out of the shadows.

The heels of the high-heeled boots clattered on the broken stone slabs, their sound like the tolling of a midnight bell.

Her long, red and black gothic dress trailed on the ground as she walked, each step outlining her disdain for worldly pride. Her long, blood-red hair cascaded down her back, and her bloodshot eyes burned with weariness and defiance.

"Why did you call me?" Her voice was drawn out with resentment and a languid nasal tone. "I don't want to eat that disgusting stuff. Just looking at it makes me want to throw up."

She crossed her arms and snorted coldly, looking exactly like a noblewoman forced to get up early.

“Selian.” Siming looked at her, his expression as indifferent as ever, but his tone carried a gentle firmness. “Is she even worse than that undead pirate from the Sea of ​​Dreams?”

At that moment, her expression changed slightly.

He took a half step forward and whispered, "Remember? We share life." Those words, like a spell, rooted her to the spot.

"You—you're threatening me! You actually dared to threaten me with our contract? You despicable, wicked master!"

She bristled, stomped her feet, and puffed out her cheeks, but ultimately gritted her teeth and gave in.

"Fine! You despicable, shameless forced contractor, I surrender!"

She abruptly turned her face away: "The condition is—after we get back, you have to stay with me for the entire day! From morning till night, not a single minute can you hide!"

She was issuing a victory ultimatum, yet there was a hint of barely concealed nervousness in her voice.

Si Ming smiled slightly: "Alright."

That smile left the already stunned crowd even more bewildered.

Vera narrowed her eyes slightly, a professional instinct in her gaze: "A contractual relationship? She's not a summoned creature. A life-type being, and a high-ranking one at that..."

“You are not her holder,” she added calmly. “You are her ‘contract master’.”

Si Ming turned his head, his expression still calm, but the corners of his mouth were slightly raised: "Lady Vera, you seem...too curious."

Selene snorted, tossed her skirt, and walked through the crowd like a queen surveying her territory.

Mu Sisi muttered under her breath, "Where did this... vampire young lady come from?"

No one can answer.

All eyes were fixed on the red-haired girl who had trampled the "dream" under her feet.

She walked towards the first stall, her steps light yet carrying an undeniable air of authority.

The hem of the skirt drew an elegant scarlet arc between decay and fragrance, like the opening of a theater curtain.

The aroma of Tan Yan Street seemed to freeze for a moment at this instant.

The first stall served a bowl of "fish bone soup with gravy" that had a dark green sheen.

The soup surface was covered with twisted, snake-like joints and a murky, whitish eyeball; microorganisms seemed to wriggle within the broth.

The air was thick with a stench that didn't belong to any known marine creature—a stench of metal, rotting flesh, and some ancient abyss.

Almost simultaneously, everyone retreated.

Only Celian bent down, glancing at the viscous liquid with an expression as if admiring a reasonably well-crafted oil painting. She scooped up a spoonful and put the string of bones, along with the eyeball, into her mouth.

"Mmm." She chewed softly, her eyes expressionless, yet revealing a hint of mockery.
"It tastes a bit like fish maw that's been soaking in the sewer for three days, with a hint of the skin of a peeling sea snake... However, it's much milder than the 'Spine Flower Stewed Soul' I had on the Dead Coast once."

The second stall sells "Insect-baked Sweet Sausage".

Worms throbbed on the surface of the casing, their lipids glowing a ghostly blue under the light, emitting a pungent, fishy odor. The worms trembled slightly in the hot oil, seemingly still retaining some consciousness.

She flicked one of the worms with her finger, and it burst open with a "pop," its juices sticking to her cheek like curdled milk.

She didn't seem to mind, stuck out her tongue and licked it, then casually commented, "It's a little salty."

Mu Sisi turned pale and almost vomited on the spot.

The third stall, "Bewitching Soft Cake," has a pinkish hue, and the cake slowly twists and turns in the air, like some kind of lure at the level of consciousness.

Rudolf speculated that it most likely possesses hallucination-inducing and cognitive reversal mechanisms.

After finishing her meal, Celian only let out a lazy yawn, her eyes still clear: "The illusion level is too low. Even my sleepwalking hallucinations are more realistic than this."

She strolled along, eating as she went, gracefully sweeping away the malice of the entire street, stepping along the blurred line between bloodstains and aroma.

The foreign objects she ingested included—

A bowl of salty conch soup that can only be appreciated by "listening" to its flavor;

A piece of meat jelly that deforms into a crying baby face in the mouth;
One must chew back within ten seconds, otherwise the rice-shaped bullet rice ball of the regurgitator...

Everyone stared in disbelief, yet not a single strand of her hair was disheveled, and her skirt still swayed in a perfect arc.

"The sauce ratio here is pretty good," she commented casually. "But the 'Stewed Stomach and Liver Gelatin Soup' was too straightforward in flavor and lacked soul."

As she walked back from the last stall, a hint of satisfied weariness even appeared on her face, like a leopard stalking its prey after a good meal.

"Hmm." She patted her stomach gently, as if teasing a cat that had just finished eating. "The taste... was alright."

Then, she tossed her hand, and the five wooden plaques fell to the ground like severed ribs, striking the stone slab with a crisp, clear sound.

For a moment, even the air seemed to freeze.

Wang Yichen was stunned. Eileen subconsciously took a step back, Fujimiya Sumi gripped the hem of her clothes tightly, and Mu Sisi's lips trembled slightly: "...Is this really a human being?"

Rudolf slowly squatted down, looked at the five wooden plaques, and whispered, "No, she is not human."

Vera walked to the puzzle wall, her gaze not immediately falling on the wooden plaque, but on Si Ming.

"She has independent thinking, a sense of hunger, a capacity for chewing, a capacity for judgment... and a temper."

“This is not a bound mystery.” Her tone was more serious than ever before. “This is—a symbiote.”

Si Ming simply smiled slightly, as if acquiescing.

Five wooden plaques lay quietly on the ground.

The first piece is engraved with "R4-C13", which seems to be a serial number for some kind of organization;
The second piece is a set of twisted lines that vaguely form the letter "S";
The third section is shaped like a coordinate axis, with the arrow pointing to "E";
The fourth piece consists of three irregularly shaped characters, arranged in a manner resembling "F" and "T";
The fifth piece is the most eye-catching—it has a sentence engraved at the bottom:

"The feast will not end until the sacrifice is complete."

Rudolf frowned: "It's not a direct hint, it's... a fragment of the rule."

"They are simulating the logic of a jigsaw puzzle, but they may also be a countdown timer for the next stage."

Zhuang Yege gently brushed his fingertips across it, feeling as cold as a tombstone.

Vera said, "This is not a puzzle, but a rehearsal of a choice."

Si Ming tilted his head slightly, looking at one of the pieces that was still deforming—

That was the fifth piece, its pattern slightly twisted, with a red line flowing through it like blood vessels, as if... a heart beating.

Selene stood behind him, a smile playing on her lips, and said softly:
"Master, do you think... the next dish will be us?"

"Or perhaps..." she chuckled softer, "that we are actually the main course at someone's 'VIP' table?"

Si Ming didn't turn around, but stared at the floating red line, his eyes slowly turning cold.

"It depends on who opens the menu first." He uttered these words slowly, his voice low yet clear, like a knife cutting through a cover.

"The feast will not end."
Because you'll never figure it out.

What exactly are you eating?
Or is it being eaten by something?

(End of this chapter)