Mu Sichen was dreaming again. It was the same hollow palace, the same endless fog, and the same Qin Zhou hidden behind the mists.

This time, Qin Zhou didn’t speak. He simply watched Mu Sichen in silence. Behind Him, Mu Sichen saw a forest of tentacles woven from pure power surrounding the high throne. One tentacle seemed particularly lively, waving back and forth like a greeting.

Staring back through the fog, Mu Sichen caught glimpses of eyes that were vast and bright—sometimes glaring, sometimes filled with a strange confusion. The pressure of being watched by a god was stifling. Finally, he threw up his hands in surrender.

“Look, I’m tapped out right now. I don’t even know how to take my power back. How about this: once I’m back in the game, I’ll find a way to reclaim it. Just… stop haunting my dreams? I’m exhausted. I only have seven days of rest, please let me actually sleep for a few of them.”

Between tracking He Fei, grinding for money, and now being summoned by a deity every night, Mu Sichen felt like he was running on empty.

“This time was not my doing,” Qin Zhou said slowly.

As He spoke, the lively tentacle flicked toward Mu Sichen’s forehead. With a delicate pluck, it pulled a deep-purple butterfly out of thin air.

“That’s…” Mu Sichen felt a cold sweat break out. It wasn’t just a nap at the office building; he had been silently contaminated by the butterfly totem. He had only looked at it once through the gold-rimmed glasses.

“The legacy of the Sky Eye allows one to look past the surface and see the truth. It glimpses the essence of power too easily. Do not use it for anything below Star-Hiding grade if you can help it,” Qin Zhou advised.

Mu Sichen understood. By using the glasses, he hadn’t just seen a pattern; he had accidentally peered at the Outer God behind it. The glasses were a powerful tool, but their “backlash” was more than he could currently handle.

“Why is this thing in the real world?” Mu Sichen asked. “This power belongs to your side.”

“Without them, how would you have found your way to us?” Qin Zhou countered.

The realization hit Mu Sichen instantly: the “game” hadn’t brought the monsters here; the monsters were already here, which is why the game existed.

“Can I destroy it?” Mu Sichen asked.

The giant eyes behind the mist stared at him for a long beat. “Do you have nothing else to say to me?”

“Say… what?” Mu Sichen scratched his head. Aside from questions about survival and eldritch horrors, what was there to chat about with Qin Zhou?

The eyes behind the mist closed in apparent disappointment, and the lively tentacle went limp. The mist began to churn. As the tentacle constricted, the struggling purple butterfly was crushed into shimmering dust. Simultaneously, Mu Sichen felt the dreamscape collapsing, sending him into a freefall.

It really hadn’t been Qin Zhou’s dream. The butterfly had been the host, and with its destruction, the dream ended. Just before the world went black, he heard Qin Zhou’s voice: “Whoever brought you here is the one who should deal with that butterfly.”

Mu Sichen bolted awake.

The knock-off plushie was huddled by his pillow, its one mobile tentacle pressed firmly against the center of his forehead. Despite being returned to He Fei’s bed, it had crawled back across the gap in the dead of night.

Mu Sichen’s heart softened. He pulled the doll into his arms. “So you were protecting me.”

He squeezed the one “live” tentacle. Its texture was different from the rest of the polyester doll—it was firm and springy, exactly like the original octopus. Touching it brought a strange sense of comfort.

The next second, the voice of a betrayed roommate rang out: “Mu Sichen?!”

It was barely 6:00 AM. Normally, He Fei would still be dead to the world, but his new “rational” routine had him up with the sun.

“How are you going to explain this one?” He Fei demanded.

Mu Sichen couldn’t. The doll liked him; it kept migrating to his bed. What was he supposed to say? So, he went with the “gaslight” defense.

“You kicked it onto the floor again. I picked it up, but you just knocked it down a second time, so I just put it in my bed. If you’re going to buy a doll, treat it better. I’m just giving it a home since you clearly don’t care.”

He Fei: “…”

He snatched the doll back, tucking it under his arm. “Fine! Tonight I’m tying it to my body. Let’s see you try to steal it then!” He stomped off to the bathroom.

Mu Sichen realized that Qin Zhou’s hint—”whoever brought you here”—referred to the System. Power could be used in reality. If the glasses worked, his other abilities should too.

He checked the “Game Cabin” app on his phone, but it only showed a countdown. He turned to his laptop and logged into the official website. This time, the backend was different.

There was a new “Personal Space” button. Inside was a crude 2D map of Bright-Eye Town. Three Pillars were visible: two were bright and steady, while the third was grey and pockmarked, as if eaten by moths. In his inventory sat the Gold-Rimmed Glasses.

His stats showed: Level 15, SAN 79, Status: Weak (Post-Purification), Energy: 8,000/10,000.

A red exclamation point flickered over a mail icon. He clicked it.

[Would you like to consume 5,000 Energy to download the “Self-Totem” image?]

The cost was staggering, but Mu Sichen knew this was his weapon against the butterfly. He clicked ‘Yes.’ Instantly, he felt a wave of profound weakness wash over him. His hand trembled so violently he could barely grip the mouse.

[Download successful. You may now replicate the Self-Totem. Each replication costs 500 Energy.]

He uploaded the image to his group chat with Chi Lian and Cheng Xubo.

Chi Lian: Captain Mu, did you draw this? It’s beautiful! Seeing this first thing in the morning makes me feel so refreshed. I don’t even hate going to work as much now.

As she viewed it, Mu Sichen felt another drain on his spirit. His energy dropped to 2,500. He realized that if he sent this to a large group, he’d be drained into a husk in seconds. He quickly toggled the “Permission Management” setting in the game backend so he’d have to manually approve every download via SMS.

To test it, he sent the image to He Fei.

He Fei, ready for work, clicked the blurry thumbnail. Mu Sichen’s phone buzzed: Reply ‘T’ to authorize. He didn’t reply. He Fei tapped his phone. “Is the Wi-Fi out? Sichen, what is this? We’re in the same room, just show me.”

“It’s nothing special.” Mu Sichen stealthily replied ‘T’.

“Oh, there it goes. Downloaded. Is this… a game crest or something?” He Fei whistled. “Looks pretty sharp. Maybe I’ll play with you sometime.”

Mu Sichen watched him closely. He Fei didn’t find the image “ugly” or “terrifying.” In fact, that whistle was the first bit of personality He Fei had shown since becoming a “rational” drone. The totem was working; it was pushing back the influence of the God and the butterfly.

Exhausted and barely able to stand, Mu Sichen leaned back. “Does your company hire temporary help?”

“They need a day laborer,” He Fei said. “The cleaning lady has been taking a lot of leave. The manager hires someone new every day to tidy up. You want the gig?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll ask today. They already booked someone for this afternoon, but I’ll see if you can come in tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Mu Sichen whispered. He couldn’t replicate another totem today anyway.

“You look terrible,” He Fei noted, feeling his forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Stay in bed, I’ll bring you some food.”

Mu Sichen drifted into a feverish sleep. He vaguely felt He Fei return to leave buns and porridge by his bed before heading out. But before leaving, He Fei hesitated.

“I’m only lending it to you because you look so pathetic,” He Fei whispered. “It’s supposed to stay cool.”

He pulled the knock-off plushie from his bag and tucked it next to Mu Sichen’s head. As the door clicked shut, the doll’s blue tentacle unfurled and laid itself across Mu Sichen’s burning brow.

Author’s Note:

He Fei (after seeing the Self-Totem): Weird, why did I spend so much money on such an ugly doll? Sichen can have it if he likes it that much.

Mu Sichen: Ugly? It’s adorable.

Little Octopus (crying): Only you think I’m cute, Sichen. I’m too embarrassed to show my face now.