C75 —- Dreamscape

Facing Qin Zu’s words, Mu Sichen felt a wave of unnecessary emotions, but he quickly suppressed them.

Right now, the most important thing was figuring out how to conquer Dream Butterfly Town.

“Is this really all it takes? If I offer some beautiful memories, will the butterfly be satisfied?” Mu Sichen asked, as images of his family, friends, and the silly drunken antics of the little octopus flashed through his mind.

The little octopus pursed its circular mouth and pressed its tentacles firmly against Mu Sichen’s forehead. “Your emotional energy has no value.”

Mu Sichen understood what Qin Zu meant.

god-tier monsters were different from humans—their emotions carried immense energy and pollution potential.

Just as Big Eye’s obsession with eyes could influence the entire town’s preferences, its emotions could also affect the townspeople.

Even though Qin Zu had sealed away all his emotions to become an “absolute rationalist,” the emotional energy he had stored was still highly valuable—enough to attract the butterfly.

But Mu Sichen was different. He didn’t possess such a vast emotional reserve.

Unless he handed over the little octopus.

And that was something Mu Sichen would never do.

As he pondered what he could offer instead, the system prompt appeared:

[The player can use accumulated trust points.]

Mu Sichen glanced at his trust points. After a week of accumulation, his trust progress bar had reached 60%. At this rate, in another week, he would be able to use a Hidden Star level power.

 

“How much do I need to use? And how do I use it?” Mu Sichen asked in his mind.

[Approximately 10% can put the butterfly to sleep for a day. The player can sacrifice the Butterfly pillar as an offering.]

This gave Mu Sichen some confidence.

The only downside was that using this method would consume his trust points, limiting them to six days, which meant he wouldn’t be able to use Hidden Star level power in the short term.

“The system just told me how to put the butterfly to sleep,” Mu Sichen said. “Don’t worry, we can enter Dream Butterfly Town with minimal cost.”

He turned to Ji Xian’an, signaling her to continue providing intel on Dream Butterfly Town.

Ji Xian’an thought for a moment before saying, “If we can enter Dream Butterfly Town spiritually while keeping our bodies in Hope Town, it would be best to leave one teammate behind to watch over our bodies. If we get trapped in the dream and can’t wake up temporarily, at least they can provide us with some liquid food to keep us alive.”

Who should stay behind? Mu Sichen glanced at the group.

Ji Xian’an spoke honestly. “My arm ability is tied to my physical body, so I won’t be able to use it in a dream. But my mental defense will be extremely useful inside the dream. If possible, I’d like to go with you.”

Even if Ji Xian’an had offered to stay, Mu Sichen wouldn’t have chosen her.

If someone attacked their bodies while they were unconscious, they would be completely defenseless. They needed to leave behind someone they trusted the most.

Under normal circumstances, Ji Xian’an was trustworthy, but she was still a native of this world. Mu Sichen found it difficult to entrust everyone’s lives to her.

The person staying behind had to come from the player team.

Mu Sichen had to go—without him, they couldn’t seize the “Pillar.” He looked at the remaining three teammates and asked, “To what extent have your abilities developed? Can they influence the mind?”

He Fei: “I could expel spiritual contamination as early as level 1.”

Chi Lian: “My ability has evolved to the point where I can cut and paste ‘cognition.’ For example, if someone loves mangoes but hates the taste of durian, I can swap their perception. To them, durians and mangoes would become the opposite of what they originally believed.”

Chi Lian’s ability was becoming increasingly similar to the one Zhuo Huaichu had once used on him. Mu Sichen couldn’t help but take another glance at Chi Lian.

When it was Cheng Xubo’s turn to speak, he scratched his head and said somewhat shyly, “My spatial ability has advanced further. My pushcart has evolved into a skateboard, and I can teleport while standing on it—but only in real space. It doesn’t seem to work in dreams.”

It seemed best to leave Cheng Xubo behind.

Still, Mu Sichen wasn’t entirely at ease.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Cheng Xubo, but rather that he was worried something might contaminate him while they were away.

Although Hope Town was relatively safe now, the methods of god-level monsters were unpredictable. Sometimes, simply listening to an enchanting melody could lead to contamination.

After thinking it over, Mu Sichen picked up the little octopus and said, “You should stay in Hope Town too.”

The little octopus immediately flailed its eight tentacles in protest, clearly displeased at the idea of being left behind.

Mu Sichen patiently reasoned with it. “You can help people regain their sanity. If anything dangerous happens, you’ll be able to temporarily resist the contamination. Staying outside to protect my body is the same as protecting me.”

The little octopus and Cheng Xubo represented two different factions and two distinct types of power. They could complement each other in terms of strength and balance each other in influence. Leaving them together in Hope Town was the best choice.

The little octopus was a reasonable creature. Since Mu Sichen had explained things so seriously, it had no choice but to accept—though it still looked rather aggrieved.

However, before letting go, it extended a tentacle into Mu Sichen’s chest, leaving behind a small part of itself to accompany him.

With everything settled, Mu Sichen walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out the book adorned with a butterfly.

According to the system, all he had to do was open the book to learn how to enter Dream Butterfly Town.

Holding the book in his hands, Mu Sichen glanced at another one beside it—the cover of this one bore the image of a moon. A sense of unease crept into his heart.

In Shen Jiyue’s totem, beneath the dominion of the moon, there was a butterfly symbolizing insects. This made it hard for Mu Sichen not to suspect a connection between the butterfly and Shen Jiyue.

Of course, the butterfly symbol might be a coincidence. There were many kinds of insects, and perhaps it had just been chosen arbitrarily.

However, the title “Mind Controller” and the entity “Dream-Devouring Butterfly” were unmistakably linked.

Dreams were a part of the mind, after all.

Fortunately, based on the titles alone, “Dream-Devouring Butterfly” and “Mind Controller” seemed to counter each other. The Dream-Devouring Butterfly could consume dreams, and once the dreams were gone, the mind would cease to exist—meaning Shen Jiyue would lose his ability to control it.

This suggested that Shen Jiyue’s mental control ability wasn’t complete. If he wanted to grow stronger, the Dream-Devouring Butterfly was likely one of his targets.

In other words, they might run into Shen Jiyue again.

Mu Sichen wanted to sigh—couldn’t he just stay away from Shen Jiyue for once?

That said, the Dream-Devouring Butterfly’s realm of dreams contained neither sunlight nor moonlight. Even mirrors, within dreams, were illusory. This meant that Shen Jiyue’s abilities in this realm would be severely limited, with only his “Mind Control” remaining functional—yet even that would be significantly weakened.

Looking at it that way, even if they did encounter Shen Jiyue, he would be a much weaker version of himself. That was at least somewhat reassuring.

With his mind made up, Mu Sichen, Chi Lian, He Fei, and Ji Xian’an each found a comfortable chair to sit in, while Cheng Xubo and the little octopus kept their distance.

The little octopus grabbed a chair for itself, clearly not intending to perch on Cheng Xubo’s shoulder.

Mu Sichen opened the book. A totem appeared from his palm, hovering just above the pages.

In the book, a dream totem appeared—depicting a brain wrapped in butterfly wings. At the same time, both the book’s totem and Mu Sichen’s personal totem emitted light, linking together to form a radiant pillar.

As Mu Sichen gazed at the glowing pillar, he immediately understood how to use it.

He was using his personal totem to connect with another totem. Once connected, the totems would construct a pathway across space.

He could expand the pillar of light to envelop the area where the four of them sat, opening a path to another town.

However, this time, they would be traveling to Dream Butterfly Town in spirit rather than in body.

Thus, he didn’t need to enclose the whole area—he only had to use his personal totem to project each person’s spirit into the pillar of light.

With a single thought, self-totems appeared on each of their foreheads. Beams of light shot from the totems, connecting to the glowing pillar.

In an instant, all four of them collapsed onto the table, fast asleep.

The pillar of light vanished, and the book snapped shut.

Cheng Xubo looked at the unconscious group and voiced the question from the depths of his soul: “Uh… how are they supposed to get back?”

The system’s voice echoed in his mind: [As long as they seize a “pillar,” they can use its connection to return to Hope Town.]

“So if they fail, there’s no way out?” Cheng Xubo asked anxiously.

The system remained silent.

Cheng Xubo could only comfort himself—every battle they had fought in Eye Town had been like this, a near-death experience every time. He could only pray for his teammates’ safe return.

Far away in Xiangping Town, a god-level entity was observing Mu Sichen’s sleeping face through the little octopus’s eyes.

It found itself feeling… strange.

Every warrior from Xiangping Town who ventured to another town did so with no way back.

They either disappeared into the foreign town forever or, if they were lucky enough to find a “pillar,” they would summon this entity, who would then occupy the town and bring the survivors back.

This process had repeated countless times—it was nothing new.

The entity had too much to deal with: maintaining the eight pillars that upheld Xiangping Town, resisting the town’s corruption, answering the prayers of its followers, granting them strength and the will to survive.

It had no energy to spare for a fallen outsider.

It should have closed its eyes and focused on listening to the voices of Xiangping Town instead of directing its attention to this person.

That was what it thought.

And yet, it did not close its eyes.

Across the vast distance of time and space, it continued watching Mu Sichen’s sleeping face.

Mu Sichen, already deep in slumber, was unaware of this gaze.

He woke up in the midst of a bustling city.

Skyscrapers loomed all around him—this could no longer be called a mere “town.”

Thankfully, the four of them had not been separated; they had awakened together.

Ji Xian’an took in the sight of the traffic-filled streets, realization dawning in her eyes. “No wonder the other teams couldn’t find the ‘pillar.’”

The town was simply too vast.

They stood at the edge of the road as a crowded bus rumbled past, packed with people like an evening rush-hour commute.

As the other three marveled at the metropolis, as if seeing a big city for the first time, Mu Sichen instead felt an overwhelming, terrifying pressure.

Something monstrous was approaching them.

Without hesitation, Mu Sichen opened his system panel and selected “Use 10% of Trust Value.”

A radiant glow enveloped the four of them, obscuring their presence.

In their place, four identical copies of them appeared, standing where they had just been.

Mu Sichen shifted his eyes and activated his left eye’s True Sight.

The city was massive—searching for three tiny “pillars” in a place as vast as New York or Tokyo would be nearly impossible.

To obtain information about the pillars, he had to take a risk.

He had to gaze directly at the Dream-Devouring Butterfly and steal knowledge from it.

For someone without a divine essence, this was practically a death wish.

Fortunately, the Dream-Devouring Butterfly was far weaker than Shen Jiyue, and Mu Sichen still had three pillar-level self-stickers, which should be enough to resist its corruption.

He took out one of the stickers, placed it on the back of his neck, and widened his left eye, watching the events unfold.

A massive shadow swooped down from the sky.

Mu Sichen saw the four fake projections of themselves instantly shatter into countless purple butterflies, which merged into the looming darkness.

As he stared directly at the shadow, his brain pulsed violently, as if it were about to explode.

His vision blurred, and everything around him vanished.

His long-deceased parents stood before him, beckoning with warm smiles. Behind them, a large door stood ajar.

Somehow, Mu Sichen knew—if he ran through that door, he could reunite with them and gain eternal happiness.

Unconsciously, he lifted his foot and took a step forward.

Suddenly, something wrapped around his ankle and yanked him back.

Mu Sichen looked down to find a blue tentacle, slimy and sticky, coiling around his leg.

Due to the strain, the tentacle—originally only 10 centimeters long—stretched thin and fragile, as if a single tug could snap it.

Mu Sichen bent down, intending to tear it off.

But the moment his fingers touched it, an inexplicable sense of attachment surged through him.

Unable to resist, he pinched the blue tentacle.

The door was about to close.

Yet Mu Sichen, as if entranced, not only wanted to keep squeezing it—he had a strange urge to take a bite.

That brief hesitation was enough.

The door shut with a final thud, separating him from his parents forever.

As the door vanished, the illusion shattered, and the terrifying pressure retreated into slumber.

Mu Sichen collapsed onto the ground, his head pounding.

He could still feel the overwhelming presence—it was in the sky, in the earth, in every corner of the city.

It was everywhere, controlling every inch of this dream world.

Thankfully, he had used 10% of his Trust Value to fabricate their false images, tricking the Dream-Devouring Butterfly into consuming energy potent enough to put it to sleep.

Otherwise, they would have been instantly annihilated the moment they encountered this god-tier presence.

As the protective glow faded, He Fei rubbed his eyes. “Weird… What was that light? It almost blinded me.”

Ji Xian’an’s gaze sharpened. “It came, didn’t it?”

Mu Sichen pressed a hand over his left eye and chuckled. “Not only did it come, but it left us with plenty of intel.”

That glimpse hadn’t been wasted.

Despite the chaos in his mind, Mu Sichen extracted several key pieces of information:

1. The Dream-Devouring Butterfly is an unusual god-level entity. Unlike most others, it feeds on positive emotions and beautiful dreams, despising nightmares. It craves the souls of those filled with happiness.

2. The city’s population is not what it seems. Over 90% of the people here are fabrications —phantom souls constructed by the dream itself. However, these false souls still experience joy, anger, sorrow, and fear —and can harm real people.

3. The “pillars” do not exist in a fixed space. They are dream constructs, built by the devoted followers who serve as the foundation.

4. Real souls are drawn to the pillars. If they find the true souls, the pillars will reveal themselves.

5. Do not be deceived by the towering cityscape. The dream world can be infinitely vast or incredibly small.

Mu Sichen gazed at the bustling crowds and sighed.

“Having a system really is the best.”

Back when he read novels, he often complained that protagonists had overpowered cheat abilities.

Now that he had his own system cheat, he was nothing but grateful.

These fake souls were too realistic, practically indistinguishable from the real thing.

But in the end, they lacked one crucial element—Sanity Value (SAN).

To be a true soul, one must have SAN.

No need for complicated methods.

With just one look, Mu Sichen could tell who was real and who was fake.

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