Chapter 28: Can We Talk This Over?

This feeling was all too familiar—and all too wretched.

Before the arrival of the dungeon world, Zhang Quan had been nothing more than a petty thug, constantly crushed by forces beyond his control. Those with family wealth—he dared not provoke. The tough ones—he kept a wide berth. And those both rich and strong? Unless he had grown tired of living, Zhang Quan made sure to steer clear.

Even when bullying a weak woman, he lived in dread that her man—or men—might return to beat him up. Life was suffocating beyond compare.

Then the dungeon world descended. By a stroke of luck, Zhang Quan acquired a tattered lotus leaf no larger than his palm. In a fit of impulsive bravado, he swallowed it whole. That was when he experienced the greatest agony of his life—

He’d once thought the hardest days were when his grandmother was hospitalized and he couldn’t scrape together the medical fees. He had been wrong. The battered lotus leaf, though small, melted into liquid the moment it touched his tongue and slid down his throat. At first, the sensation was cool and refreshing, but soon it became unbearable. What on earth was this? Had the laws of nature ceased to apply?

A mere palm-sized scrap of lotus leaf, and yet it seemed to generate endless streams of mysterious gas inside him. Unlike the air he breathed, this gas refused to escape no matter how widely he opened his mouth. Instead, it drilled into his flesh and blood, then into his meridians, bones, and finally even his marrow.

Zhang Quan screamed in agony, the torment stretching on and on. It felt, to him, as if an entire lifetime passed in that hellish state.

Were it not for his concern for his grandmother—knowing that if he died, she would lose her only family, with no one left to care for her delicate post-surgery health—he would have given up long before. Many times he thought, “Let it all end, I can’t take this anymore!”

“Why can’t I just lie down and give up?” His tears flowed in torrents. Yet, in the moment he was about to surrender, the gentle face of his grandmother appeared before his eyes, snapping his muddled mind back to clarity.

Even now, Zhang Quan dared not recall the ordeal. If he had to go through it again, perhaps he would have gladly thrown that cursed lotus leaf far away, even if it meant never gaining that godlike teleportation power.

Yes, that’s how he obtained his teleportation ability. From the moment it awakened, Zhang Quan’s life transformed completely.

Lu Hao—the young master who once looked down on him and ordered him around as if he were a servant—ended up being chased all over the dungeon by monsters. Zhang Quan, magnanimous, saved him. From then on, Lu Hao was all humility and eagerness, nearly falling to his knees in gratitude.

Given that Lu Hao had a decent head on his shoulders, military training, and some fighting skills, Zhang Quan allowed him some dignity. In fact, Lu Hao even offered up his luxury villa without complaint, letting Zhang Quan assign rooms as he pleased. Zhang Quan, in turn, allowed Lu Hao’s family to share the third floor with him and his grandmother.

Memories of the past flashed through Zhang Quan’s mind, but his movements did not slow. Dodging Tang Yan’s attacks again and again, he realized his daily quota of teleportations was almost spent.

After swallowing the lotus leaf, he had discovered his ability by accident and tested his limits in a single day: within a twenty-meter radius, he could teleport forty-nine times. After that, the strange gas inside him would be depleted and he would need a full twenty-four hours to recover.

If absolutely necessary, he could force out one more teleport after a dozen minutes’ rest—but just one. To go again, he’d need to wait another ten-odd minutes.

Still, since acquiring this power, Zhang Quan had never used up all forty-nine moves in a day. He always kept a few in reserve as a last-ditch escape.

“Brother, can we stop fighting now?” he pleaded. “I was wrong, okay? Just tell me what you want; if I can do it, I will. If I can’t, I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“Move out of the villa within three days. After that, you can come back whenever you like,” Tang Yan replied, finally ceasing his assault. He leaned against the wall, panting, but his eyes stayed locked on Zhang Quan.

He was certain Zhang Quan hadn’t given everything he had—he must have held back some teleports. After so much fighting, and with the dungeon world knowledge Yu Yan had shared, Tang Yan would be a fool not to know what Zhang Quan’s ability was.

Better safe than sorry. If Zhang Quan was only playing for time to launch a sneak attack, letting his guard down could mean instant death.

Zhang Quan thought, Brother, I’m not nearly so crafty. Before the dungeon world, I was just a small-time hood—do you really take me for someone formidable? If I had that kind of wit, would I be reduced to being beaten like this? Well, at least I can still run away.

But if he slunk off in disgrace today, how could he lead his crew in the future? No doubt Lu Hao and his crowd were waiting for him to win big and reclaim the villa.

As a boss, reputation mattered.

Slaughtering everyone was out of the question, but at least he could salvage some dignity.

“Brother, I’m willing to leave the villa, but can we discuss some terms?”

“Speak,” Tang Yan replied, willing to show respect to those with real ability.

Of course, if Zhang Quan made any excessive demands or threatened the boss’s interests, all bets were off. If you don’t like it, come fight!

“Um…” Zhang Quan drew close, whispered his proposal, and left Tang Yan dumbfounded.

That’s possible?

A few minutes later, the two of them descended the stairs, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. Behind them came Song Xiaoqing, Zhang Quan’s grandmother, and the woman who cared for her. Zhang Quan’s narrow, sharp eyes squinted into slits as he laughed, “Brother, why didn’t you say so earlier? Who are we to each other—of course I’d do you this favor! It’s just three days in the villa, right? I’ll vacate right away.”

Then Zhang Quan saw, standing quietly in the downstairs hall, Yu Yan.

Her face was dark, her thoughts unreadable. So much had happened since the dungeon world’s arrival, but Zhang Quan recognized her instantly—how could he not? If not for her, would he have gone to the lotus pond that morning on a whim?

That “whim” had cost his childhood friend Li Erqiang his life.

Even now, recalling that brief time inside the dungeon, Zhang Quan shuddered from head to toe. What a hellish place it was—monstrous birds with wingspans wider than a room, savage beasts whose single hoof could crush his old cottage to dust.

Swarms of blood-red mosquitoes, each the size of a fist, left grotesque welts with every bite. The pain and itching were so maddening he’d have clawed his own marrow out if he could.

Even Zhang Quan himself didn’t know how he’d survived that dungeon. He only remembered, cowering in terror with his eyes squeezed shut, flailing his arms at random. The sight of Li Erqiang being swallowed whole by a monster had nearly broken his mind. By chance, his arm struck something—he recoiled instinctively…