Mu Sichen didn’t actually believe a word of the broadcast, nor did he view Qin Zhou as some benevolent saint. He certainly didn’t intend to become dependent on him.

The moment he felt Qin Zhou’s gaze, he realized two things: how terrifying this world was, and how overwhelmingly powerful Qin Zhou had to be. To project one’s consciousness across time and space simply because a name was uttered… that was far beyond human. Even if Qin Zhou had once been a man, possessing that kind of god-like power would fundamentally alter one’s psyche.

If wealth far beyond one’s imagination could turn a person unrecognizable, imagine what a power that allowed one to reign over all others would do.

Mu Sichen was using the radio not because he sought salvation, but because he was already being watched by a mysterious force anyway. Rather than spending his days worrying about what that power might do to him, he figured he might as well put it to use.

He had been a frugal child; he was an expert at “repurposing waste.”

As the radio crackled to life, the Follower began to thrash, his voice thick with venom. “Degenerate! Devil! You should be burned alive under the Great Existence’s gaze! You filth!”

Mu Sichen raised his pickaxe and gave the Follower a sharp crack to the head. These fanatics had physical constitutions far beyond that of average humans—a single blow with a pickaxe wouldn’t kill him.

The strike caused the Follower’s meager HP bar to drop by half. He became considerably more cooperative.

As the broadcast looped, the Follower gradually fell silent.

Mu Sichen leaned in. “Don’t give up. Don’t let these ‘Degenerate’ ideologies brainwash you so easily. You must hold fast to your faith in the Great Existence.”

The Follower: “…”

What little remained of the Follower’s brain couldn’t compute what Mu Sichen was trying to achieve.

Mu Sichen continued to “encourage” him. “I consider myself a kind-hearted man. To help you resist this harmful propaganda, I’ll ask a few questions about your Great Existence. Use them to recall His glorious deeds. Say them out loud; use them to fight the broadcast.”

The Follower: “…”

“Your Great Existence opens His eyes for ‘Day’ and closes them for ‘Night,'” Mu Sichen began. “When does Night fall, and how long does it last?”

The Follower initially resisted, turning his face away and muttering stubbornly, “The Great Existence grows weak during the Night. I will never reveal His weakness to you!”

…And just like that, he had confirmed his god’s weakness. These Followers clearly weren’t hired for their high IQs.

“Let’s try a different angle then,” Mu Sichen suggested. “When is it ‘Day,’ and how long does it last? That’s the time of your Master’s peak strength—surely that isn’t a secret?”

Between the hypnotic drone of the radio and his own low intelligence, the Follower’s mind began to drift. Finally, he spoke slowly. “A day has twenty-four hours. The Great Existence’s eyes are open from 8:00 AM to 8:00 PM.”

Mu Sichen was surprised. He had assumed the deity’s “Day” would be much longer, perhaps leaving only an hour or two of rest. A fifty-fifty split suggested that the Great Existence’s grip on Pupil Town wasn’t as absolute as it seemed.

Interestingly, this world used the same 24-hour system, language, and script as his own. He wondered if this was a parallel reality or a future centuries away.

“What time is it now? Is it Day or Night?” Mu Sichen asked.

“It is 7:30. In thirty minutes, the Day will end,” the Follower replied.

Mu Sichen checked his watch. It read exactly 7:30.

He had entered the pod around 4:00 PM and spent roughly three and a half hours in the game. If the flow of time was synchronized, it was 7:30 PM in reality. The only difference was that the cycles were inverted—to the Follower, this was 7:30 in the morning.

“During the Night, the Great Existence closes His eyes. At that time, what do you…” Mu Sichen started to ask what they did, but remembering the man’s stubborn streak, he reframed the question. “How do you guard the Great Existence? Surely you don’t neglect your duties or slack off just because His eyes are closed?”

“Of course not!” the Follower snapped, struggling against his restraints. “In the hour before Night falls, we command the residents to recite His deeds to instill gratitude. Once 8:00 hits, only those who have recited the scriptures are permitted to leave their rooms. We manage them under the guidance of the Kin—teaching them, and rooting out any Degenerates lurking among the masses.”

“Quite the orderly system,” Mu Sichen remarked.

Before Nightfall, the Followers forced a brainwashing session. Those who complied were “corrupted” to a manageable degree and allowed freedom of movement. Degenerates, who could resist the pollution, had to be hunted down.

While the Night seemed more heavily guarded, it confirmed that the deity was indeed at its weakest. It was the perfect time to move.

The journal owner had gone mad because he refused to recite the deeds; thus, he was locked in, starved, and driven to insanity. But this logic presented a new problem.

If the journal owner had already been corrupted into a Follower, why was this man still coming here to brainwash him?

“You come here every day,” Mu Sichen said. “Have I truly never recited the deeds? Have I never once left this room?”

“Never,” the Follower confirmed.

“Can a resident leave on their own?”

“During the Day, yes. To bathe in the Great Existence’s gaze is the ultimate blessing. We allow anyone to receive His gift—even Degenerates. But during the Night, we lock the doors. Only those who have embraced His deeds may step outside.”

It was clear now. The journal’s warning to “beware the gaze” referred to the Day. Stepping outside or opening the curtains during the Day meant instant, high-level pollution from the deity itself.

But if the Follower was telling the truth, where did the journal owner go?

The Followers clearly didn’t realize the owner had already been “converted” or “consumed.” They were still following their routine, unaware of the actual status of the room’s previous occupant.

Mu Sichen looked at the radio and the flashlight, a cold smile touching his lips.

The people from Xiangping Town had managed to smuggle those items in, meaning they had a secret way into this room. Their goal was to prevent the owner from being corrupted. If they found out the owner had gone mad anyway… how would they “handle” him?

Mu Sichen reached a grim conclusion: the crazed journal owner had likely been “liquidated” by the very “Degenerates” he was waiting for.

As he had suspected, Qin Zhou wasn’t necessarily a “good” guy.

By now, the Follower had stopped struggling. Under the continuous loop of the broadcast, he had become eerily docile.

“One last question,” Mu Sichen said. “Do you know what a ‘Pillar’ is?”

The System had tasked him with finding one; it had to be a focal point of this world.

“What is that?” the Follower asked blankly.

Mu Sichen hadn’t expected a low-level grunt to have intel on something so vital. He’d have to interrogate a Kin for that.

With most of his questions answered, Mu Sichen had a baseline understanding of the world. Once “Night” fell, he could begin his exploration.

Among the items the Follower had brought—besides the meal—was a cloak covered in painted eyes. According to him, those who accepted the brainwashing were given these cloaks to walk the town unmolested. The cloak was large enough to hide his pickaxe, but Mu Sichen had a gut feeling that putting it on would be a very bad idea. Yet, without it, he’d be a target.

He hesitated.

At that moment, the now-docile Follower began to murmur under his breath: “Xiangping Town… safe… believe… Qin Zhou…”

The moment the name was uttered, Mu Sichen felt that gaze again. This time, it carried a distinct sense of confusion.

Mu Sichen: “…”

Why are you looking at me? There’s a Pupil Town Follower over here who’s been brainwashed by your radio—go look at your new recruit!

Besides, this Follower had flipped far too easily. Wasn’t he a staunch devotee? Surely a simple radio loop shouldn’t change a person’s faith that quickly.

Mu Sichen wasn’t sure who was stronger, Qin Zhou or the Great Existence, but this was Pupil Town. On the deity’s home turf, the radio’s power should be at its weakest. Even Mu Sichen had needed sheer willpower to stay sane while reading. The radio alone shouldn’t be this effective.

He looked at the Follower. A thought occurred to him: Did he flip so easily because I injured him first?

As the thought formed, a faint light began to emanate from the wound on the back of the Follower’s head. Something was coalescing within the glow. Mu Sichen reached out and plucked it.

As the light faded, he found himself holding what looked like a temporary tattoo.

[Item: Ego Sticker – A derivative of the “Undermine” skill. Every time the player successfully activates the “Undermine” skill, an Ego Sticker is generated. It can be applied to anyone—Player, Resident, Degenerate, Follower, Kin, or even a Great Existence. Once applied, it helps the user maintain clarity of mind. Its duration is tied to the player’s power. When the player reaches God-tier, the effect becomes permanent.]

“When did I use a skill?” Mu Sichen asked, bewildered.

He looked at the Follower, who was now chanting “Qin Zhou” like a devotee, and it clicked.

“Undermine” (Poaching/Digging at the Foundations) was a passive property of his pickaxe. When he struck the Follower, the skill had triggered. Since Mu Sichen’s own MP pool was insufficient to fuel the conversion, the skill hadn’t drained his energy—it had siphoned the power from the radio broadcast instead.

He had “undermined” the Great Existence’s foundation, but he hadn’t poached the Follower for himself. He had accidentally handed the “employee” over to Qin Zhou.

No wonder Qin Zhou was looking at him again.

Author’s Note:

Qin Zhou: I see a guy who claims he won’t rely on my power, yet he won’t stop calling my name.

Qin Zhou: This guy is annoying.

Qin Zhou: …Wait, this guy just sent me a new believer!

Mu Sichen (Self-reliant): I borrowed your power, but I’ve paid you back with a follower. We’re even.

Qin Zhou: How strange. I’ll take another look.