C84 — Level 30

He had a dream more beautiful than any he’d ever experienced.

He dreamt of a peaceful and harmonious world.

A world where everyone could live under the sun, free from fear of contamination or mutation. A world that was connected — where people were no longer trapped in isolated towns. Even those from other towns could safely interact and communicate.

It was a dream so beautiful it brought tears to his eyes — so vivid and real that one could almost believe it was reality.

He didn’t want to wake up. He was utterly intoxicated by the dream.

But all dreams must end. He awoke, feeling an overwhelming sense of loss, sitting silently at his table, unwilling to leave.

He sat there until the restaurant was full and new customers arrived. Only then did he reluctantly follow the kind person out.

But after leaving the restaurant, he didn’t feel satisfied. On the contrary, he felt empty — like a gluttonous beast had taken residence in his heart, devouring all his joy.

Back at the kind person’s home, he couldn’t muster interest in anything. He didn’t even want to report the location of the “pillar” to General Qin.

He was afraid General Qin would pass the location on through divine communication to the other operatives. He was afraid the Ideal Restaurant would be destroyed by his comrades. He was afraid he’d never again experience such a beautiful dream. He couldn’t bear to part with the Ideal Restaurant.

After all, once two “pillars” were destroyed, General Qin could descend through divine embodiment. There was no need to destroy the Ideal Restaurant, right? A place that brought people such happiness — wouldn’t it be better to keep it?

At worst, he could offer his life in atonement after the other two “pillars” were destroyed. He would become the vessel for General Qin’s descent. He wouldn’t let his comrades’ sacrifices be in vain.

He hadn’t truly betrayed them.

But before all that… just once more. Let him taste that wondrous dream again.

The warriors of Xiangping Town fought so hard for a future where they could help General Qin conquer every town — a future where no other divine monsters remained.

But all of that — it was already in the dream!

He had fought so hard for the world in that dream. And now, he didn’t have to fight at all. Just one more meal, and that bliss could be his again.

He begged the kind person to take him to the Ideal Restaurant one more time.

But the kind person told him the free meal vouchers were gone. However, if he brought another friend to the restaurant, not only could he eat for free, but he’d also receive another voucher.

The kind person even showed him the voucher he’d received for bringing him to the restaurant.

The server suddenly understood.

He pulled aside the kind person’s shirt, revealing a deep blue whale tail tattoo on his back.

The “kind person” was a fallen one too — a citizen of Deep Sea Town, a guardian of the ocean.

Their goal was the same: to destroy Dream Butterfly Town’s “pillar” and assist the “Lord of the Deep Sea” in reclaiming the power of the “Conscious Sea.”

But what had this so-called kind person done? Not only did he make no attempt to destroy the “pillar,” he kept recruiting other fallen ones to enter the Ideal Restaurant.

Deep Sea Town’s citizens not only got a free meal — they received a voucher as well.

After that, the server was no longer of use.

The Deep Sea Town citizen threw him out, refusing to shelter him any longer.

No wonder this “kind person” had risked so much to protect him from the butterflies, despite all his flimsy lies — it had all been to exchange him for a voucher.

The server wandered the streets. Marked by the “pillar,” he was no longer pursued by the butterflies — he was safe.

But he wasn’t happy. He only wanted to return to the Ideal Restaurant.

Wandering in despair, the Ideal Restaurant appeared before him once more. He walked in and asked the receptionist what was required to dine there, as he no longer had a voucher.

 

The receptionist told him:

“Only joyful emotions and beautiful dreams.”

Anyone who has dined at the Ideal Restaurant even once could no longer obtain “joyful emotions” by any other means — nor could they ever experience dreams more beautiful than the ones provided there.

The server stood outside the Ideal Restaurant, his mind utterly blank.

At that moment, he noticed a mark — the symbol of Xiangping Town.

It had been left by the few comrades who had narrowly escaped. They’d agreed to regroup at a specific location to discuss the next steps.

A thought surfaced in the server’s mind — a dangerous one — and he quickly pushed it away.

He couldn’t do that.

He didn’t go to the meeting spot.

Instead, he curled up and spent the night on the streets of Dream Butterfly Town — a night plagued with nightmares.

The dream was disgusting. It made him uncomfortable, irritable, and sick to his stomach. It made him hate dreaming altogether.

He couldn’t control his emotions. He wandered the streets in frustration. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the regrouping symbol again.

Suddenly, he gave himself a reason — a justification:

The Ideal Restaurant was a place where one could see an ideal homeland.

His comrades from Xiangping Town had worked so hard — didn’t they deserve to see that homeland at least once, too?

He was doing it for them.

With that rationalization, the weight in his heart lifted.

He went to the meeting point, met two comrades from Xiangping Town, and told them he had found the “pillar.”

All they needed to do was eat a meal at the Ideal Restaurant — then their mission would be complete.

He brought the two comrades into the restaurant and paid with two servings of joyful emotion and beautiful dreams, receiving two free meal vouchers in return.

Later, he brought several more comrades to the restaurant.

But soon, Xiangping Town stopped sending anyone to Dream Butterfly Town.

The great and discerning General Qin had likely seen through his betrayal.

The server fell to his knees in remorse.

He still believed in General Qin.

He still loved Xiangping Town.

His ideals had never changed.

But he could no longer break free of the Ideal Restaurant’s control.

Spiritual corruption was far more terrifying than he’d imagined.

He would rather his body rot, even become a monstrous creature, than end up like this — weak, addicted, unable to resist.

He was filled with regret. He wanted to contact General Qin through the town’s totem. He wanted to expose everything about the Ideal Restaurant.

But when the moment came, his body wouldn’t move.

As if possessed, he turned, walked into the restaurant, and smiled as he asked:

“I no longer have any joy or dreams left. What must I give to dine here again?”

The receptionist’s smile was still as radiant as ever:

“Sir, you can work here. We are currently hiring vegetable washers.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” the server said, still smiling.

He knew full well — in a place like this, being a vegetable washer wasn’t a good job.

But he had no path left.

He had no choice.

He entered the back kitchen.

The moment he washed the first tomato, tears began to fall uncontrollably.

A long-time employee nearby glanced at him with complete indifference and said:

“First time washing vegetables, huh? Don’t worry — keep crying. Eventually, you’ll get used to it.”

So that was what it was.

The impurities in the dreams weren’t washed away — they were absorbed by the vegetable washers.

Dreams drawn from the subconscious often broke moral boundaries — making people feel ashamed, guilty, or disturbed. When they woke, they’d think: How could I have dreamed that?

Those negative emotions were absorbed by the vegetable washers.

The more they washed, the more their emotions were suppressed, the darker their moods grew.

Eventually, they grew so numb they couldn’t even cry.

The only thing that could still save them — was the dream.

But the happiness gained from dreams grew shorter, while the hours of work grew ever longer.

Finally, he couldn’t wash the vegetables anymore. He fell down beside the sink and thought it would be better if he died like this.

At this time, the old employee told him that he should go to repair.

How to repair? Strip off these uncomfortable souls and replace them with artificial enthusiasm and happiness.

In fact, the so-called repair was also eating vegetables.

He came to the employee-only dining area on the third floor and took a menu for employees. Some very dirty things would come out of his body, like food residue.

He stood in the bathroom, washed the food residue with his own hands, and ate the same dish called “passionate service” that all employees were eating.

He had a dream that he became a waiter and was serving three particularly difficult guests.

He could no longer distinguish between reality and dreams, but occasionally he would have the idea that “I was also a customer back then.”

Whenever he had this idea, he would be asked to repair, wash off the dirt on his body, and continue working.

In his dream of becoming a waiter, he saw the townspeople of the Deep Sea Town and his companions who were brought to the Ideal Restaurant by him.

It was great that they were all waiters.

After reading the waiter’s memory, Mu Sichen quickly said, “Chi Lian, quickly cut off the things on the cross axe and paste them back in his mind.”

Chi Lian took out the scissors, carefully cut off the soul memory while it was still on the cross axe, and pasted it back.

The waiter lost his memory for a period of time and then it was pasted it back. He needed time to absorb this memory. For a while, he became dull and seemed to be recalling something.

Mu Sichen said, “I didn’t really take away his soul, and I pasted the soul fragments back in this way. I didn’t hurt him, so the rules of the ‘pillar’ can’t do anything to me.”

“I am a diner. I handed over my dream and tasted the restaurant’s dishes. It’s the ‘pillar”s problem that I didn’t receive happy emotions, not my problem. It still wants to protect me.”

“The biggest bug of the ‘pillar’ is protection. It always protects those who are about to become its nutrients. Under this mechanism, as long as you integrate into the ‘pillar’ and become its reserve energy, and keep yourself uncontaminated, you can be invincible in the ‘pillar’.”

“I see.” He Fei said, “But can I really not eat this dish? My dream, it looks so delicious.”

Mu Sichen then realized that when he read the memory, He Fei had already been lying on the table, drooling at the dish that belonged to him.

The reason why He Fei hadn’t eaten this dish yet was because his hand was nailed to the table with a fork, and his palm couldn’t touch the food.

Chi Lian also said: “These dishes are so tempting, I can’t bear to give it to you, isn’t it better for us to eat our own?”

Chi Lian spoke a little slowly, and her articulation wasn’t clear. Mu Sichen then discovered that she had an earring on her tongue. In order to suppress her desire for the dishes, she took off the earring and pierced it into her tongue.

Even Mu Sichen, after taking a look at the “Family Fun” on the table, just thinking about the scene of giving this dish to others, felt a piercing pain in his heart.

It was like the pain of handing the little octopus to the butterfly with his own hands.

Even though he knew that he couldn’t touch these dishes, he was still attracted. He knew that he should exchange the dishes, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pain, why should he give his things to others?

He hadn’t eaten these foods yet he felt so bad. Once they experienced the happiness of dreams, there would be no recovery.

“I’ll exchange.” Mu Sichen said.

The power left by the little octopus still lingered in his mind, keeping him rational enough to let go.

But when he switched the positions of the three dishes, they automatically returned to their original spots.

It was as if the dishes had chosen their masters—no matter how they were swapped, they always returned.

The waiter blinked, seemingly about to wake up.

In truth, it didn’t matter even if he did—the trio had countless ways to make sure he couldn’t see their actions.

The real trouble wasn’t the waiter.

It was the three devilish dishes.

They were like parts of their own bodies, yearning to return to them, unwilling to belong to anyone else.

“Try using the cut-and-paste ability to swap them,” Mu Sichen instructed Chi Lian.

Chi Lian raised the scissors toward her dish, hands trembling violently, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry… I can’t do it,” she sobbed.

Mu Sichen’s plan had been thorough—but no plan could outrun sudden change.

He couldn’t let his two companions eat those dishes.

Very quickly, Mu Sichen made a decision.

The cross axe hadn’t been put away. It still laid in his palm.

He swiped his hand over He Fei and Chi Lian’s dishes—both appeared in the “Happy Family” platter.

The “Undermining” skill activated.

Mu Sichen stole the ownership of the two dishes—not just pouring them into another plate, but psychologically severing them from their original owners.

Chi Lian slumped into her seat, sobbing uncontrollably, as if she’d lost something vital.

He Fei’s eyes burned red. He yanked the fork out of his pierced palm, grabbed Mu Sichen’s collar with his blood-soaked hand, the fork pointed straight at Mu Sichen’s eye—ready to strike.

Mu Sichen didn’t flinch.

He looked back at He Fei coldly.

He Fei ultimately didn’t stab him.

His hand loosened. The fork clattered to the floor.

He Fei sat back down in a daze, covering his face with his hand, his voice choked with pain:

“I know you did the right thing… It’s just—just seeing that dish already drove me crazy.”

“If I had eaten it… I can’t imagine what I would’ve become. But… it hurts so much. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Mu Sichen said softly.

He had read the waiter’s memories.

He knew how alluring the Ideal Restaurant’s dishes were—how they could make someone abandon Qin Zu, abandon comrades, abandon everything.

For He Fei to stop himself under that kind of pressure—even without eating the dish—was already an incredible feat.

“You’re really going to eat that?” Chi Lian asked through sobs.

“Just looking at it already hurts so much. If you eat it… something terrible will happen.”

“Yes,” Mu Sichen said, staring at the now triple-fused dish.

His own portion still tempted him with the same overwhelming force.

He didn’t know if he could resist.

The only things he had left to rely on were the rationality the little octopus had left behind—and one last pillar-level “Self” sticker in his back-end inventory.

He had gotten eight of these in the book Embrace.

He’d used two in A Brief History of the Library to resist Shen Jiyue’s core projection.

Two more were used in The Emperor’s New Clothes to reclaim the “Pillar.”

Two were spent in the real-dream fusion to drive out the dream-Pillar.

He had unconsciously used one during the recent battle with Nie Yihai’s pollution—which failed. It was the little octopus who had rushed in to save him.

Only one sticker remained.

He could only hope that after eating this dish, he would still be himself.

Mu Sichen pressed the sticker to the center of his forehead.

A cool sensation swept through his body.

The rationality and detachment left by the little octopus slowly faded.

Mu Sichen’s own energy returned.

[Player used one Pillar-Level “Self” Sticker and gained 50,000 experience points, leveling up to Level 30.]

The system prompt echoed in Mu Sichen’s mind.

Mu Sichen asked silently, “Level 30? Even with 50,000 energy points, that shouldn’t be enough to jump straight from Level 25 to 30, right?”

Anyone who had played leveling RPGs knew that early levels might only need 100–200 XP, but the higher you climbed, the more the experience requirements increased exponentially. One level might take tens of thousands, millions, or even hundreds of millions of XP later on.

Mu Sichen had needed 30,000 just to get from Level 25 to 26—how could 50,000 possibly push him to 30?

[The system has converted 10% of your Trust Value into experience points to assist with your level-up.]

Mu Sichen was briefly stunned. This was the first time the system had ever actively helped him.

Trust Value was indeed precious—he had been planning to save up to 100%. But since the system had stepped in to convert it, that meant hitting Level 30 was critical right now.

“What new features does Level 30 unlock?” Mu Sichen asked.

—
[Player levels are divided into five tiers: Keystone, Pillar, Star-Hidden, Sun-Shrouded, and Sky-Devouring. But this is only a general classification. There are finer distinctions between levels.]

[For example, the “Human Guardian Deity” is a Half-Step Sky-Devouring. Their power far surpasses the average Sun-Shrouded level—they could easily take on five “Moons” at once.]

[Meanwhile, “The Dreamweaver,” despite being Star-Hidden, is far stronger than “The Eye of the Sky.” Dreamweaver is about to evolve into Sun-Shrouded and can barely hold their own against the “Eyeless Moon” without beating the “Single-Eyed Moon.”]

Mu Sichen: “….”

It seemed Shen Jiyue had turned into a unit of combat power measurement.

Automatically, he began recalculating in his mind: Qin Zu = 5 Shen Jiyues, Butterfly = 0.8 Shen Jiyues, Big Eyeball = 0.3 Shen Jiyues.

It was a convenient way to gauge everyone’s strength—and helped ease Mu Sichen’s nerves.

 

—
[Your calculation isn’t entirely off, but actual battles depend on many factors—abilities, strategies, domain penetration levels. Clashes between divine-tier monsters are terrifying, and not reducible to simple math.]

[Back to the point: at Level 30, you’ve reached a hidden tier between Pillar and Star-Hidden: the “False God” tier.]

[You can now begin to use some god-level methods. But your overall strength is still far below true Star-Hidden level—you’re still at the “die-on-sight” threshold when facing real gods.]

[Pillar-level players can only send messages to followers and provide energy—essentially like startup founders burning their own money. As a False god, you can now begin to receive offerings: energy, emotion, abilities, even souls.]

“That much?” Mu Sichen asked.

—

[Of course—but it depends on what your followers gain from you. “The Eye of the Sky,” “The Human Guardian,” and other gods bestow powers, strength, extended life—they’re essentially rebirthing their followers. It’s only fair they can take anything they want in return.]

[You, on the other hand, have only given your followers small bits of energy—not even 10,000 in total. What exactly are you expecting to collect back?]

Mu Sichen: “…”

—

[The point isn’t what you take, but what you give. As a False god, you can now grant your own happy emotions to two followers. Through this act of divine bestowal, you may help yourself survive this upcoming corruption crisis.]

Now, Mu Sichen understood why the system had forcibly leveled him up to 30.

He had to say that the system’s trick was really amazing, and it used the attributes of the false god to the extreme.

Mu Sichen materialized his happy emotions and temporarily deposited them in He Fei and Chi Lian, which could help the two people who were now in pain to return to normal, and also make Mu Sichen unresponsive in the dream, so that no happy emotions would be taken away by the “pillar”, and he wouldn’t feel happy. Naturally, he wouldn’t be addicted to the dishes like the waiter, and thus lose his mind.

After he passed this level, when there was no “pillar” taking away happy emotions and dreams, he could take back happiness from the two people, and return the two dreams he experienced to them.

After all, this was taken away from the two people. Losing dreams was equivalent to losing part of the beautiful vision of life, which would make them no longer complete; they had to return as doon as possible.

“Thank you, system.” Mu Sichen thanked in his heart.

The system’s words “advance and retreat together” weren’t empty words. It was usually silent, but when necessary, it would really help him overcome difficulties.

[The player is currently too weak and has too few territories. The system can only do so much. The crisis is resolved. Has the player figured out how to deal with the “pillar”? ]

“I have a few guesses, but I’m not sure which one is right.” Mu Sichen said in his heart.

He used his self-totem to roughly divide his happy emotions into two parts, like energy value, and actively gave them to the two crying people.

He Fei was so uncomfortable that he kept poking his hand with a fork. After receiving Mu Sichen’s happiness, he suddenly laughed “hahaha”, threw away the fork in his hand and said: “Hahaha! I’m crazy. I poked myself with a fork. It hurts me to death! Hahaha!”

Chi Lian took out the earring on his tongue and smiled and said: “Although it hurts, I’m so happy!”

For a while, the dining table was filled with a happy atmosphere.

Only Mu Sichen had a blank expression. Even though his two companions had recovered, he didn’t feel happy.

He sent a message in the group: [It’s temporarily stored with you, remember to return it to me. ]

After sending the message, he ate the food.

His own dish tasted like dumplings, like celebrating the New Year. Chi Lian’s was sweet and sour, the sourness neutralized the sweetness, with a hint of stubbornness and freshness. He Fei’s was an indescribable taste, Mu Sichen couldn’t describe the taste, he could only say that it was a vibrant dish.

Mu Sichen had three guesses about the whereabouts of “Pillar”.

The first possibility was in the employee cafeteria, where false work enthusiasm was constantly produced and employees’ emotional garbage was absorbed. False enthusiasm was a bit like the fake souls in this Town, and mass production of them required the power of butterflies, so the “Pillar” might be here.

The second possibility was the place where employees were destroyed.

Mu Sichen didn’t see this scene in the waiter’s memory, after all, the waiter was still alive, but Mu Sichen guessed that there must be such a place.

After all, a “Pillar” needed soul energy to continue its existence. The waiter who had exhausted everything and could no longer squeeze out any value would eventually become the “Pillar”‘s supply.

The third possibility was in their dreams after eating.

After all, there were happy emotions here, which were the source of emotional energy for the “pillars” to operate. The “pillars” absorbed their happy energy in dreams.

Mu Sichen, who had experienced several pillars, understood that the “pillars” were based on human souls after all, and had different preferences.

The “pillar” in the sanatorium liked to absorb souls when they were most desperate, which was equivalent to devouring the strongest emotional energy and soul energy at the same time.

The “Pillar” in the processing plant, on the other hand, preferred to consume separately—completely stripping emotional energy from soul energy, categorizing and processing them just like a real-world factory, where different parts went through different assembly lines. This “Pillar” was also the most orderly and by-the-book: it remained stationary at the soul-absorption site, using layers of strict order to protect itself rather than hiding.

The “Pillar” in the library had been split into two halves, resulting in total chaos.

Meanwhile, the “Pillar” in the Ideal Restaurant displayed extremely strong personal preferences. Like a butterfly, it was drawn to beautiful emotions.

What the employees washed away were emotional scraps—emotional waste and soul residue. These were things the “Pillar” had no choice but to absorb, like medicine one had to take when sick. It could absorb them, but didn’t enjoy them.

Only within beautiful dreams could it find the kind of emotional energy it truly loved.

Mu Sichen concluded that it was most likely inside the dream.

For that reason—no matter the risk or reason—Mu Sichen had to eat the dish and enter the dream, in order to claim control over this “Pillar.”

 

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