Chapter 505: Are You Seriously Setting a Trap for the Child of Destiny?
"Next, I'll go buy a Villa, a big Villa, a big house, and then casually post it on my Moments, visible only to Zhou Luyao."
Tang Kun savored his wishful thinking, feeling even more delighted.
Just then, with a 'ding', another Takeout Tycoon System mission arrived: deliver a braised chicken and rice on time, and the reward would be a Villa; failure would result in Kun Kun shrinking by half.
Tang Kun: "…"
Tang Kun was rendered utterly speechless. The Takeout Tycoon System was a godsend in every conceivable way, save for its punishments. They were diabolical, constantly holding the threat of his manhood shrinking, losing a kidney, or even being transformed into a woman over his head. He was a proud, pure-blooded man; how could he possibly endure such a fate? This wasn't just a matter of pride; it concerned the fundamental happiness of the rest of his life. He still had grand plans, vivid fantasies of conquering the goddess Zhou Luyao.
'But… this reward is just too perfect,' he thought, his initial shock giving way to a greedy excitement. A luxurious villa in Jiang District—a prime piece of real estate he was already planning to purchase. He hadn't expected the Takeout Tycoon System to simply hand one over on a silver platter. It was just one delivery of braised chicken and rice. The risk was terrifying, but the reward was irresistible. 'I'll take it!'
A decisive grin spread across his face. Tang Kun paid the vendor, grabbed the warm, fragrant meal, and strode confidently toward the underground parking lot. The smile on his face grew wider, more smug with every step. He replayed the recent memories of delivering takeout in his brand-new Cadillac, the looks of pure shock and envy on the faces of onlookers fueling his ego. There was an indescribable thrill to it, a perverse pleasure in being a millionaire delivery boy. He wasn't just delivering food; he was delivering a statement. He was taking the road less traveled, and he was doing it in style.
The concrete chill of the underground garage greeted him. He whistled a cheerful tune, the jingle of the Cadillac's key fob in his pocket a comforting rhythm. He rounded the last pillar, his eyes fixing on the spot where his gleaming chariot should have been.
And then his world stopped.
"What the heck? Where's my Cadillac? Where's my big Cadillac???"
The parking spot was empty. Utterly, mockingly empty. The pristine white lines framed nothing but cold, stained concrete. The air in his lungs turned to ice. For a long moment, Tang Kun just stood there, his mind refusing to process the scene. His smug grin had vanished, replaced by a mask of slack-jawed disbelief.
"Was it… stolen?" The words escaped his lips as a choked whisper. Panic, cold and sharp, stabbed into his gut. This wasn't just any car; it was a luxury vehicle worth over two million yuan. But more importantly, it was his ride. Without it, how in the world was he supposed to deliver the takeout?
A jolt of adrenaline sent him sprinting toward the security office. He found the lone staff member, a bored-looking man scrolling on his phone, and demanded to see the surveillance footage. The man barely looked up, shrugging with an infuriating lack of concern. The cameras covering that section, as fate would have it, were broken.
"Damn it! What the hell is going on? No, there's no time. I'll deal with this later!"
He had already wasted more than ten precious minutes. A quick glance at his Rolex confirmed his fears; the mission timer was ticking down relentlessly. The Cadillac would have to wait. The integrity of his manhood was on the line. Tang Kun burst out of the garage and onto the street, his eyes frantically scanning for a taxi.
"What's going on? Why are there so few taxis today?" he muttered, his voice laced with growing desperation. He stood on the curb of a major business district, a place that should have been teeming with cabs. Yet, the road was a stream of private cars, with not a single yellow beacon of hope in sight. He watched the seconds hand on his Rolex sweep past, each tick a hammer blow against his sanity. He was an ant on a hot pan, scurrying in place as the heat intensified.
"Finally! There's one!"
A taxi appeared in the distance, its "for hire" light a radiant green. Hope surged through him. Tang Kun let out an excited shout, waving his arms like a madman as the car slowed to a stop. He was about to dash forward, a wave of relief washing over him. There was still time.
But before his foot even left the curb, a figure blurred past him. A man in a sharp suit moved with lightning speed, yanked the rear door open, and slid inside. "Excuse me, buddy, I'm in a hurry," the man called out breezily. "Driver, a thousand yuan to the hospital! Quickly, quickly!"
The door slammed shut. The taxi sped away, leaving Tang Kun standing in a cloud of exhaust fumes, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence.
'Seriously? Was it that easy for him?'
"Damn it! Only half an hour left! I'm going to be late!" The reality of his situation crashed down on him. Gritting his teeth, his desperation overriding all sense of propriety, he stepped into the street and flagged down a private car, forcing it to a screeching halt.
"Are you trying to die?!" the enraged owner screamed, sticking his head out the window.
"I'll give you a thousand! No, five thousand! Just take me to…" Tang Kun didn't even haggle, his voice tight with urgency. He waved a wad of cash, his relief evident as he saw the driver's eyes widen.
"Alright, brother! I guarantee I'll get you there!" Greed instantly replaced anger. The driver's face split into a wide grin. There was no refusing an offer like that; the money was simply too good.
Tang Kun scrambled into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. For a fleeting second, he felt a flicker of hope. But the moment the car pulled away from the curb, a deafening BANG ripped through the air. The vehicle lurched violently to one side, the sound of shredded rubber scraping against asphalt filling the cabin.
A flat tire.
Tang Kun's mental state shattered. The tire couldn't have gone flat earlier, it couldn't have gone flat later—it had to happen at this exact, desperate moment. Without a word, he threw the money onto the seat, scrambled out of the crippled car, and hailed another.
This time, there was no flat tire. This time, there was a traffic jam.
"Are you kidding me? It's ten in the morning, rush hour is over! Why is there a traffic jam?!"
He was going to lose his mind. The street ahead was a solid wall of unmoving vehicles, a sea of red brake lights. Trapped. He paid the driver, burst out of the car, and in a final, desperate move, spotted a row of shared bicycles. He scanned a QR code, unlocked the flimsiest-looking one, and threw his leg over the saddle.
He rode like a man possessed. Standing on the pedals, he pumped his legs with a strength he never knew he had. The cheap bike rattled and groaned beneath him, its chain clanking a rhythm of pure panic. It was the same standing-up ride, but some people rode magnificent pink steeds, while he was on a mechanical donkey from hell.
He covered four, then five kilometers in just over ten minutes, his lungs burning, his suit jacket flapping behind him like a cape. He unleashed the greatest physical potential of his life, his speed a blur of motion. By the time he reached the customer's residential complex, he was so exhausted he could barely stand, his body trembling, sweat stinging his eyes.
But the thought of the punishment—Kun Kun shrinking by half—was a fire at his back. Adrenaline surged through him. For the final kilometer, his legs spun like the legendary fiery wheels of a mythical deity.
Finally, he stumbled through the lobby and up to the customer's door.
"Finally… finally, I made it!" Tang Kun gasped, leaning against the doorframe for support. He was so overwhelmed with relief he was on the verge of tears. He had done it. Against all odds, he had made it just in time.
He fumbled with the insulated delivery bag, his hands shaking from exertion. He unzipped it, his heart still pounding in his chest.
"What??? Where's my braised chicken and rice???"
The world turned gray. When he peered into the bag, his blood ran cold. The large portion of braised chicken and rice was gone. In its place sat a single, solitary box of braised pork hock and rice. A sick realization dawned on him. In his earlier haste at the food stall, he must have grabbed the wrong order.
At that exact moment, the Takeout Tycoon System emitted a cold, impersonal ding. Time was up. Mission failed. Punishment: Kun Kun shrinking by half.
"No… no, it can't be…"
A cold sweat drenched his entire body. Trembling uncontrollably, his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, pulling down his pants to look.
The next moment, a scream of incomparable agony and despair tore through the quiet residential area, a shrill, soul-shattering wail that echoed for a long, long time.
[Ding! The host's sabotage has caused Child of Destiny Tang Kun's mission to fail, dealing a severe blow. Plundered +66666 Destiny Value!]
[Ding! Child of Destiny Tang Kun's mentality has shattered. Plundered +9999 Destiny Value!]
[Ding! Child of Destiny Tang Kun has suffered a heavy blow, his will is depressed. Plundered +29999 Destiny Value!]
…
"Indeed, Tang Kun failed to complete the mission. The punishment, as expected, is quite severe."
A playful, dangerous curve touched Shen Anyu's lips as he lowered his teacup.
Tang Kun's Cadillac being stolen, his inability to hail a taxi, the man who conveniently snatched his ride, the private car's sudden flat tire, the wrong food order—every single piece of his misfortune was, of course, the result of Shen Anyu's subordinates carrying out his will with chilling efficiency.
Shen Anyu had merely given a casual order. From that point on, a network of loyal and terrifyingly competent people moved to fulfill it. There were no questions, no doubts, and no consideration of cost. They employed every conceivable means to achieve the exact result their master desired.
It had to be said, in this life, as the Young Master of the top aristocratic Shen Family of Yanxia, he lived a life of unimaginable privilege. Even without a System, as long as he didn't actively provoke a Child of Destiny, Shen Anyu's existence would have been one of supreme comfort and power.
It was a pity, he mused, that this was a comprehensive novel world, a chaotic convergence point for various Sons of Heaven. Even if he wasn't the Great Villain of Destiny, the moment he dared to interact with any beautiful woman, he risked provoking a related protagonist. The only way to avoid it would be to shun all women, cower in a corner, and avoid any form of conflict—even normal business competition.
Shen Anyu sneered at the thought. Of course, he intended to live a good life. He intended to enjoy himself to the fullest. And any Son of Heaven who stood in the way of that, who dared to disrupt his comfort, deserved every bit of misfortune that came their way.
Tang Kun's good days were far from over. This was merely the beginning.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city.
Tang Kun had suffered a blow so monumental, so psychologically devastating, that no normal man could ever endure it. His will was crushed, his mind a dazed, empty void. Even with a hundred million yuan sitting in his bank account, not a shred of happiness could penetrate the thick fog of his despair.
After an entire morning shrouded in silent agony, Tang Kun finally managed to piece together a coherent thought.
'It's okay… it's okay. Having money is the most important thing. Maybe… maybe I can find a way to make it bigger again in the future.'
This accursed Takeout Tycoon System only ever rewarded him with money and material possessions. It offered no remedies, no elixirs, nothing else. Tang Kun's eyes filled with tears of bitter regret.
And at that moment, a familiar ding echoed in his mind. Another takeout mission had just arrived…
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