Heart of the Ocean (23): Revenge

“Mayor, should we go up?”  

At the edge of the temple, Tan Xiao slept peacefully in his securely pitched tent for over two hours. Gradually, a number of residents gathered at the base of the giant pillar that supported the lost city.  

Around 1,500 people had fallen into this lost city, and now, nearly 200 islanders had assembled in the open area beneath the massive pillar.  

The islanders looked up at the towering stone column. “It’s way too high—how are we supposed to get up there?”  

The mayor said, “No rush. Did anyone come across any food or water on their way here?”  

“Where would we find food or water? We all fell down together, and when we woke up, we were already here. Aside from the clothes on our backs, we have nothing.”  

In truth, when the islanders fell, some personal belongings had come with them—things like chocolate bars or high-energy candies in their pockets. But those had already been consumed along the way.  

Even if anyone had anything left, they would keep it hidden for themselves, with no intention of sharing. The entire path had been nothing but rocks—no food or water in sight.  

One villager speculated, “Do you think there might be food and water up on those pillars?”  

“I just heard voices coming from above. The sound was so loud it carried far—maybe there are living people up there, maybe even other residents.”  

They had worked hard to regroup with others, partly because being alone in such an unfamiliar place was terrifying. Having familiar faces around, even if it didn’t seem immediately useful, at least made them feel safer than before.  

The other reason was that they hadn’t seen any living creatures or any sources of food or water along the way. Without sustenance, they would starve. They had come here driven by the hope of finding the food and drink they imagined might be available.  

Someone muttered, “But there’s no way we can climb this pillar.”  

“Exactly, it’s way too smooth—not even a single step. I’m not Spider-Man; climbing this is impossible.” If it had been a rugged hillside, even without steps, a 200-meter climb would have been manageable—just a small mountain.  

But this pillar stood at a perfect 90-degree angle, perfectly cylindrical and smooth. Without any climbing gear, there was simply no way to get a grip.  

The islanders were just ordinary people—they didn’t have the special skills or talents of players. Freehand rock climbing was far too difficult for them. Besides, only players would recognize the weight behind a name like Tan Xiao. To the islanders, he was just an outsider—a tourist they had no reason to trust.

The mayor said, “If I remember correctly, this is the legendary Lost City. Our town’s ancestors left behind a scroll with records about this place.”  

As he spoke, the old mayor suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud, bowing toward the towering pillar. “This city was built on an island, but its inhabitants angered the Sea God. They betrayed the divine and were thus drowned beneath the waves alongside their deity. Divine punishment—what we’re suffering is the Sea God’s wrath!”  

Only a god could possess such power—to submerge their island in an instant yet transport them to another realm.  

But the other townspeople weren’t buying it. “What does divine punishment have to do with us? We’ve always revered the Sea God and never committed any wrongdoing!”  

“Who says we haven’t? Have you forgotten that capsized oil tanker? The sea was polluted, and the Sea God grew furious. It was after that incident that so many in our village died!”  

“Exactly. Those who came before must have been divine envoys, carrying out the Sea God’s judgment.” The elderly, around the same age as the old mayor, began murmuring superstitiously. For a moment, they even forgot their hunger, convinced they deserved this suffering—that they should endure torment, realize their sins in despair, and starve to death as penance.  

The younger townspeople, who didn’t believe in such things, had a very different mindset. “Stop talking nonsense! We weren’t the ones who caused the oil spill. You might want to die, but I don’t!”  

Survival was human instinct. Gazing up at the towering pillar, they firmly believed that hope lay above.  

A few quick-witted young people tried to persuade the others: “If we really must atone to the gods, then we need to find the right place. There are no gods down here. If you want redemption, climb up there to seek it.”  

That did sound somewhat reasonable. “Then let’s rest for a bit and think of a way up. Maybe we can find tools to help us climb.”  

As the townspeople gathered, other players gradually arrived at the base.  

The platforms of other temples were parallel to this pillar, but each sacred column was at least ten kilometers apart. Unless they could fly, there was no way to cross. If players wanted to reach Tan Xiao’s side, they had no choice but to take the most tedious route—just as he had done earlier.  

They would have to inch their way to the base of this pillar and then painstakingly climb up from the bottom.  

Xu Xu was one of the players who had successfully made it here. In fact, he arrived relatively early, taking less than an hour to reach the spot. But he wasn’t in a hurry to ascend. Instead, he lingered near these NPCs, hoping to uncover useful clues.  

To his disappointment, these townspeople seemed utterly useless—just unlucky souls dragged into this mess alongside them.  

Having been on another pillar earlier, he already knew that the platforms above held food to fill their stomachs—but no other living residents, only terrifying ghosts.

Perhaps those terrifying ghosts were the ancestors the mayor spoke of—and indeed, that seemed to be the case. After tentatively submitting this speculation, the system notified him that his main mission had progressed.  

This lost city was connected to the Sea God the townspeople spoke of, but knowing about the Sea God still wasn’t enough. They had to escape. It seemed the players had no choice but to visit the temple above.  

The players began climbing the pillar. Xiao Bai, who had been patrolling along the safety line, noticed the commotion and barked twice, ready to dart into the tent to wake Tan Xiao.  

But Wen Yi stopped him. “No rush, let him sleep a little longer. Tan Xiao has been too exhausted these past few days.”  

After more than two hours of effort, Wen Yi had regained a fair amount of strength. Though nine-tenths of it was still on the way, the remaining one-tenth was enough to deal with the ill-intentioned folks below.  

Wen Yi circled around, spotting a few familiar faces among the climbers. The empty salmon can, long since emptied, was picked up by the jellyfish’s tentacles and hurled down with force from above—straight at the heads of those who had tried to rob them earlier.  

Xu Xu heard something whistling toward him. From over 200 meters up, even an egg falling naturally could crack a skull, let alone a metal salmon can.  

Wen Yi added a bit of force to ensure the lightweight can didn’t drift off course. It shot down like an arrow, aimed precisely at Xu Xu’s head.  

For an immortal jellyfish like Wen Yi, the fact that Xu Xu could revive after death wasn’t frightening at all.  

On the contrary, seeing these familiar faces only strengthened his resolve to crush them—until they were truly dead.  

Xu Xu instinctively tried to dodge, but suspended mid-air, there was no way to fully evade. The sharp edge of the can sliced across his face, leaving a deep gash that nearly reached bone.  

A cold sensation flashed across his face, followed by the sickening realization that flesh had been carved away. Hanging in mid-air, he didn’t even have a free hand to touch the wound—no mirror to see the damage.  

But Xu Xu knew the sight must be gruesome.  

The falling cans weren’t just one. He looked up and, with his sharp vision, saw translucent tentacles lifting an entire string of salmon cans.  

A lightning realization struck him—those transparent tentacles belonged to the immortal jellyfish he had tried to rob, only to be slaughtered instead.  

What did that mean? It meant that the “Tan Xiao” on the platform was the human who had been with the jellyfish. No wonder! Xu Xu prided himself as a top-tier player, with skills and intellect far beyond most, yet he had run into Tan Xiao, the undisputed number one.  

A loner who never appeared on game forums, clearly a solo player through and through.  

Only one thought flashed through Xu Xu’s mind: Run!  

He had already climbed dozens of meters up, but now he abandoned the ascent without hesitation.  

There was no point in going further. Even if he miraculously survived the climb, reaching the top would only mean certain death at their hands. Escape was the only option. There were other pillars with temples—he’d lie in wait there. When Tan Xiao eventually came, he’d settle the score then, with interest.  

The commotion from Wen Yi’s can-throwing finally roused Tan Xiao, who emerged from the tent with tousled hair and sleepy eyes.  

The jellyfish guiltily hid the last empty can behind its back—though, given its transparent body, Tan Xiao saw it clearly. “What happened just now?”  

Wen Yi said, “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”  

Tan Xiao wouldn’t press if Wen Yi didn’t want to explain. He’d always stand by Wen Yi’s side. “No need, I’ve slept enough.”  

“Did you finish all the cans I left for you? Want to try another flavor? I think I have some sturgeon cans in my inventory.”  

“No, no, keep them for you.” Wen Yi shook his head.  

He wasn’t that energy-deprived now, and even without food or water, he wouldn’t die—just grow weaker. Precious supplies should go to Tan Xiao first.  

Xiao Bai spilled the beans about Wen Yi’s earlier actions. Hearing that he had attacked the intruders who’d broken into their courtyard, Tan Xiao didn’t disapprove. “You did the right thing, Wen Yi! Enemies should be met with the merciless cold of winter.”  

In times like these, mercy toward foes was cruelty to oneself.  

The jellyfish tossed the empty can aside, waving its tentacles smugly.  

Tan Xiao surveyed from above. He had a grudge against those players, but not against the other islanders.  

Packing the tent and supplies back into his system inventory, he tossed down the long hemp rope he’d used earlier. “Let the islanders come up.”  

A strong intuition told him that among these stranded townspeople, there might be someone who could resolve the temple’s ghostly problem.