There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

Chapter 51: Chapter 51: A Daoist’s Self-Cultivation

"Gift of Chaos: In this instance, there is no limit to the number of times you can change your name."

In any other instance, this gift would be absolutely worthless—the kind of thing you couldn’t give away unless you threw in five thousand bucks just to sweeten the deal.

In this instance, however, its effect was pretty absurd.

After casually changing his name, Little Fatty, who was standing beside him, immediately noticed something was amiss. Staring at the name floating above Duan Fei’s head, he said, "Duan Someone 2? You have a name change card."

Just as Duan Fei was about to answer, Jinghong cut in, saying with a hint of smug satisfaction, "It must be some kind of Talent Effect. I know this guy. He’d never bring himself to use a name change card. He’d definitely sell it and use the money for items."

"I see. Jinghong, you know Duan Fei really well."

"We’re childhood sweethearts."

"Ooh~ What a pleasure. Since Duan Fei is so outstanding, I imagine you, Brother Jinghong, must be just as exceptional. And now that I get a good look, you two really look like a couple."

"Cut it out," Duan Fei said to Little Fatty, annoyed. "We’re just really close friends. Don’t go trying to play matchmaker."

Little Fatty nodded doubtfully, but then he saw Jinghong’s icy glare—a look that seemed to want to skin Duan Fei alive and tear out his bones.

He shuddered violently. Hunching his shoulders, Little Fatty shuffled off to the side to play the part of a meek little weakling.

’These waters are too deep for me,’ he thought. ’I can’t handle this.’

After confirming that Duan Fei could change his name an unlimited number of times, Bald Qiang grew excited too.

"Even though I’m a Daoist, an opportunity for unlimited name changes is pretty rare. Let’s team up and see what the limits of this thing are. If we play our cards right, we might even be able to trigger a Skill."

"Yes! Absolutely! This is my favorite kind of experiment!" Duan Fei was getting excited too.

’Analyzing the game is way more fun than just playing it.’

First, Bald Qiang picked up the Lone Ranger’s portrait and began to chant an incantation. His Daoist Professional Skill activated, vaguely summoning a certain Daoist True Immortal to descend upon him.

Summon God was one of a Daoist’s Professional Skills. The higher one’s Level and Attributes, the stronger the deity that could be summoned.

However, Bald Qiang was only Level 12, and his Professional Skill was merely at the Minor Achievement State. The gods he could summon were mostly minor deities like the Broom God; he would be hard-pressed to summon even a single one of the Celestial Soldiers and Generals.

But even a minor god could still grant Bald Qiang certain Superpowers and allow him to see things others could not.

A golden light began to glow in Bald Qiang’s eyes. As his hand swept over the torn edge of the Lone Ranger’s portrait, he immediately saw a blood-red light flickering there.

After carefully tracing the light with his fingers, Bald Qiang gasped.

"Damn."

"What is it?" Duan Fei asked curiously.

"According to my analysis, this Divine Shrine doesn’t worship a True God. It worships an Evil God—a malevolent deity that gains Power from blood sacrifices, feeding on death, despair, and suffering. Our portraits, names, and birth details have been enshrined here. We’ve been chosen as sacrifices for the Evil God. We’re what he’s after."

Tapping his own portrait, Bald Qiang continued, "The Evil God has its sights on us now. Everything we saw in the elevator earlier—those were all its emissaries, sent to reap our lives."

Duan Fei stroked his chin, thinking about the earlier encounters with what looked like Death Comes, the Saw Killer, a Vengeful Spirit, and a Vampire. ’This Evil God really isn’t picky,’ he thought. ’It’ll take any old monster as an emissary.’

"So, Bald Qiang, when you said ’Damn,’ were you referring to the Evil God?"

"No. The Lone Ranger."

"Why?"

"Once you’re targeted by the Evil God, it’s like you’ve been marked, and a connection is formed. But the Lone Ranger is something else. He directly severed that connection. The guy actually used a physical attack to dispel the Evil God’s Curse. No wonder he had the guts to go it alone."

After saying that, Bald Qiang sighed and shook his head. "Too bad it was useless."

"And why’s that?"

"Look."

Duan Fei followed Bald Qiang’s gaze and saw the photograph, which had been cut in half, begin to restore itself. The tear made by the Sleeve Sword was healing, and in just a few moments, it was back to its original state.

"The more you stand out, the more excited the Evil God gets. The Lone Ranger’s little show has already gotten it worked up into a frenzy. At this point, it would be an insult to his performance if the Evil God *didn’t* decide to make him its personal plaything."

Duan Fei nodded thoughtfully. "So, while the Evil God is busy with the Lone Ranger, we can take the time to prepare and try to clear a few more of these horror tales."

"Exactly. We let the minesweeper step on a few mines first, then we’ll go take a look."

Duan Fei couldn’t help but applaud. He said to Bald Qiang with genuine admiration, "For a Daoist, you are incredibly despicable."

"Admit it, you love it!"

"I absolutely love it! Are all Daoists in the real world like you?"

"No. I’m just a bit more despicable than most."

With their basic strategy set, Bald Qiang continued to use the power of the summoned deity to investigate their surroundings. Then, he began to write down the Evil God’s divine names.

As he wrote, he explained to his companions, "Divine names aren’t chosen at random. They’re intrinsically linked to one’s abilities. For example, this Evil God’s names are: ’Producer of Horror Films,’ ’Director of Gore Fests,’ ’Washed-Up Actor Who Never Got a Break,’ and ’Good-for-Nothing Screenwriter.’"

"What the hell is all this?!" Duan Fei asked in disbelief. "Are all Evil Gods’ names this unconventional?"

"Times are changing. Things that were once impossible are now appearing, so it’s only normal for the names of Evil Gods to change as well. Alright, I’ve just about figured out its names. This entity is likely an Evil God born from horror films, which is why the emissaries it summons are all villains from scary movies. Summoning such specific emissaries has its advantages, but it also creates a massive vulnerability."

Duan Fei thought for a moment, then asked, "And by vulnerability, you mean that since all these characters are from horror movies, we can find their source material and exploit their known weaknesses, right?"

"Exactly." Bald Qiang looked at Duan Fei with admiration. ’It’s so much easier talking to someone smart.’ "So, what we should do now is..."

"Find a hotel and rent some movies," Duan Fei said instantly. "We’ll grab some snacks and drinks, too. Might as well make it a movie marathon."

Bald Qiang gripped Duan Fei’s hand tightly. ’It’s so rare to find another player who’s on the same wavelength,’ he thought.

With a plan in place, the group immediately left the Divine Shrine. Outside, they found themselves in a small town shrouded in thick fog.

There were no pedestrians to be seen in the town, but a line of large characters written in blood was visible on a wall: "Welcome to Xuanxiao Mountain."

"This is one hundred percent a ripoff of Silent Hill," Duan Fei said with a nod.

"What’s that? Is it any good?" Little Fatty asked, confused.

"How did you feel about The Ring?"

"I’d piss through two pairs of pants."

"Then Silent Hill would be four."

Gulping, Little Fatty had a feeling things were about to get very stressful.