Chapter Fifty

As soon as Cheng Yuan returned to his desk at school, a voice called out, “Yuan, you’re back.” He turned around with a smile, greeted by a classmate waving at him—a boy with glasses, a center-parted hairstyle, a slender frame, pallid complexion, and a faint hint of laughter on his face.

Cheng Yuan waved back, “I should be the one saying that. Jiang, how’s your health these days?” Jiang Liwen was one of Cheng Yuan’s few close friends—brilliant academically, but burdened with weak health since birth. Their friendship began when Cheng Yuan witnessed Jiang Liwen suddenly collapse from cardiac arrest during a meal and revived him with swift CPR.

To Jiang Liwen, Cheng Yuan was nothing less than a lifesaver. As Jiang’s parents, who ran a small restaurant, often said, “How could a few meals, some money, or a banner be enough to thank you? From now on, our home is yours. Eat as you please.”

Because of that rescue, Cheng Yuan was publicly praised over the junior high’s campus radio, awarded a certificate of bravery, interviewed by the city, and even featured in the local newspaper. For a while, he was the talk of the town, making Wang Ningning so envious she called him “big brother.”

Jiang Liwen coughed lightly, and at that moment, a small piglet with grayish-brown markings trotted to his feet. “I’ve felt better since contracting with Huahua. Once it evolves, I should be fine,” he said.

Cheng Yuan glanced at Huahua. It had no tusks; apart from the markings, its hind legs were proportionally larger and rounder. He ventured a guess, “Aromatic Wood Pork Pig?” Jiang Liwen nodded. “I chose it because of my health.” Cheng Yuan nodded in understanding—the Aromatic Wood Pork Pig was a mutant breed among meat pigs.

As the name implied, meat pigs were meant for consumption. In this world teeming with monsters, even meat pigs were monsters themselves, their potential only fully realized upon maturity, when they could grow up to three meters long—bulky and robust. Among their vast numbers, rare variants sometimes emerged, like the Aromatic Wood Pork Pig.

Its distinguishing feature was its unique body markings and, most notably, its meat’s distinctive woody aroma and beneficial digestive properties. It ate more than ordinary meat pigs and possessed a healing art, able to consume its own life force to heal injuries. While not equal to true medical-type monsters, it was perfect for treating minor ailments and injuries.

Huahua had just nudged its trainer when it felt a sudden weight on its back. Turning its head, it saw a large cat pressing down on it, which was promptly scooped up by someone—its trainer, who was now talking to it.

The bell rang then, and both boys returned to their seats. The teacher glanced at Cheng Yuan in mild surprise before tapping a book on the lectern. “All right, class, settle down. Let’s begin.”

After class, Cheng Yuan carefully released the Marshland Giant Lizard from his arms. It crawled up to the window, basking in the sunlight like a gecko, while Cheng Yuan watched it intently.

“Why do you keep staring at it?” someone asked.

“It’s about to evolve.”

“So soon?” Jiang Liwen’s astonished voice made the whole class take notice. “So fast—just three months? Even for a Marshland Giant Lizard, that’s incredible.”

Cheng Yuan didn’t take his eyes off the lizard. “Until it evolves, I need to be careful. If it gets hurt now… Wait, I think I forgot something.” He opened the lizard’s panel and saw the lone Level 3 Healing skill. “Oh, right—I forgot you have a healing skill.”

The Marshland Giant Lizard called out to Cheng Yuan, who immediately understood. “Hungry?” He pulled a cooked Frostfeather Chicken drumstick from his bag, watching the lizard wolf it down in one gulp.

A small tiger watched, then roared as well. Cheng Yuan asked, “Didn’t you eat enough this morning?” The tiger gave a cry.

“If you’re full, that’s fine—it’s not mealtime yet.” The tiger whimpered softly, and Cheng Yuan frowned, then caught its thoughts through their bond. The tiger suddenly stopped making noise, having heard Cheng Yuan’s thoughts as well: “Let’s see what it’s complaining about.” What Cheng Yuan heard was, “Trainer plays favorites—gives food to the little lizard. I was here first; shouldn’t I get fed first? Not fair. I’ll tell Mom tonight.”

Cheng Yuan couldn’t help but laugh. The tiger, realizing its thoughts had been exposed, covered its head with both paws. Cheng Yuan brushed the paws aside and scratched the tiger’s chin. “You’re the big brother here—why be jealous of your little brother?”

The tiger immediately stood upright, staring wide-eyed. The Marshland Giant Lizard blinked its nictitating membrane, indifferent to the sudden rivalry—it was content with food and sunshine, defining happiness in the simplest terms.

Cheng Yuan hugged the tiger. “As the eldest, you’ve got to step up. I’ll be bringing you plenty of younger siblings in the future—don’t let them outdo you.”

Time ticked by, and as dismissal approached, Cheng Yuan watched the minute hand inch toward thirty. Suddenly, a campus broadcast rang out: “All senior students, please assemble on the field!” It was the principal’s voice, and he sounded almost excited—was something good about to happen?

As Cheng Yuan got up, a classmate by the window exclaimed, “It’s a dungeon—a big one!” Cheng Yuan took a few steps toward the window, but just then, a flash of light burst forth, followed by the crisp sound of shattering glass. It felt as if he’d been hit by a flashbang.

When he regained his senses, the familiar bright classroom had vanished, replaced by a desolate field dotted with sparse grass. In his hand, inexplicably, was a ring-handled broadsword. Cheng Yuan blinked, then heard a mechanical voice: “Cheat data sealed. Identity loading.”

Identity: Common Mountain Bandit (Tier 1)
Affiliation: Black Tiger Fortress
Techniques: None
Weapons: None

Cheng Yuan blinked at the data, reminiscent of some fantasy web novel. Drawing on his knowledge, he realized he’d been swept into an exceptionally rare phenomenon.

When some massive dungeons entered the world, it was as if a vacuum bag was suddenly opened underwater—external things could be sucked inside. Still, there was little to worry about; once someone outside cleared the dungeon, everything swallowed would be spit back out, like popping an overinflated balloon. All he needed to do was keep his head down until it was over.

Cheng Yuan looked around, then turned to see a group of ragged children, hands and feet bound, shivering behind him. “Great,” he thought. “Now how am I supposed to act like a mountain bandit?”