The stone corridor of the Eternal Dungeon stretched on, deep and dark like the esophagus of a gigantic beast swallowing life whole. Every stone slab seemed to whisper the souls of the unfortunate, and the stench of mold, blood, and sour sweat created a noxious blend that burned Lam Tich's lungs. The air was thick and heavy, pressing on his chest as if he were at the bottom of the ocean.
Lam Tich walked slowly, his limping steps striving for a steady rhythm on the wet stone floor. The pain from his broken right arm, crudely splinted with rough wood and cloth rags, relentlessly assaulted his nervous system. The grinding sensation of bone fragments was an ordeal that even the most seasoned surgeon would struggle to endure. Blood seeped out, staining the dirty cloth a dark, wet black.
"This is the test," Lam Tich thought, trying to quell the nausea and dizziness caused by blood loss—a symptom even The False Survivor could not entirely mask. "If a manipulator cannot even deceive his own pain, how can he deceive the entire world? I must transform pain into the bedrock of my composure."
Thanks to the newly activated Passive: The False Survivor, all that fierce agony was locked behind a thin veneer of absolute calm. Lam Tich had learned to channel the pain into sharpened focus. He was not a man impervious to pain, but one who refused to express it. His face remained flat and tranquil, bearing a cold, almost indifferent look—a terrifying contrast to his physical state.
He walked past small, empty cells. The echoes in the corridor made him feel more isolated than ever. He knew he was about to find his next "audience" for a highly risky performance.
Ahead was the "Common Cell Block"—a massive chamber secured by rusted double iron gates, holding about fifteen prisoners with crippled Divine Sparks. These were wounded, abandoned, and utterly ferocious hunting dogs.
Screeech... Clank...
Lam Tich's steps halted. The torchlight illuminated the scarred faces.
"Hey! Which jailer is this? Dare to come down here alone?"
A giant of a man, over two meters tall, with a long scar running from his right eye socket to his chin, pressed against the bars. His name was Dai Hung. He possessed no Divine Spark, but the raw strength of a Body Refining Stage 2 cultivator, crippled for crimes against his sect.
Dai Hung sniffed the air through his yellowed teeth, his face contorted by curiosity mixed with savagery. "The smell of fresh blood… The cheap liquor smell of Ly Bu… and… the smell of a broken bone? This kid, you're not Ly Bu! Who are you, and why are you wearing this coat? Did you strip the jailer to make a run for it?"
The crowd grew restless. "The keys! Where are the keys! Let us out!" Dozens of rough hands, gaunt from hunger yet still possessing cultivator strength, reached through the gaps, trying to snatch at Lam Tich's cloak, like hungry demons scrambling for a sinful soul.
[Target: Dai Hung (The Group Leader)][Cultivation: Body Refining Stage 2 (Partially Crippled)][Psychological State: Extreme Starvation, Violent, Hates Ly Bu and everything about the prison.][Current Credibility: 5% (He sees you as new prey, a poor escapee)]
Lam Tich stood absolutely still. He didn't retreat an inch. He took one step closer, pressing his pale face near the bars, so close Dai Hung could feel his cold breath.
"You want out? Or do you want a different, more painful death?" Lam Tich's voice was low, flat, and chillingly calm.
"Damn it, is that even a question?!" Dai Hung growled, his eyes bloodshot. "Kid, stop wasting words! Hand over the keys, and tell me where Ly Bu is! Is he whimpering at your feet? Tell me! Or I swear I'll tear you into tiny pieces!"
"Ly Bu is not whimpering," Lam Tich replied, his tone carrying a faint, distant regret, as if speaking of a dead comrade. "He is gone. He died a swift, painless death. It was the last grace I bestowed upon him before Ly Bu realized what was truly happening upstairs."
Dai Hung was stunned. The contradiction was too vast. A blind cripple "bestowing grace" upon a Stage 3 Body Refiner? What the hell happened upstairs?
"What nonsense are you talking about? Ly Bu was three times stronger than you! Who gave you the right to bestow grace?" Dai Hung recoiled slightly, confusion rapidly turning to caution.
Lam Tich capitalized on the hesitation. He needed doubt and selective information.
"You are Dai Hung. You once single-handedly murdered ten people in a snowstorm to steal a low-grade Monster Core, then failed miserably to break through, and were imprisoned here to await sacrifice. Is that not true?"
Dai Hung's eyes widened, his face twitching. "You… who are you? How do you know that? That detail… no one knows!"
"I am the only one who knows exactly what happened. And I know what is about to happen."
Whoosh!
Dai Hung's massive hand, despite his hesitation, finally resorted to force. Fear and rage overwhelmed reason. He grabbed Lam Tich's collar, violently hoisting him into the air. The heavy chains rattled sharply.
Crack! Rattle!
Immediately, a terrifying, agonizing pain tore through Lam Tich's body, like a high-voltage current. His left ribcage emitted small cracking sounds—the consequence of the overloaded Concept Borrowing from Chapter 2. This time, it wasn't just bone breakage, but internal organ compression. Blood welled up in Lam Tich's throat, which he swallowed with sheer willpower.
This was the decisive moment. If Lam Tich showed any sign of pain, the script would collapse, and Dai Hung would tear him apart.
But The False Survivor worked flawlessly. Lam Tich's face remained placid; not a single muscle twitched. He simply hung suspended in the air, his thin body draped in the oversized jailer's coat, his lips curved faintly into a pitying smile, like a god looking down upon mistaken ants.
"Hand over the keys, or I'll snap your neck right now! I don't care what the hell you are!" Dai Hung roared right in his face, eyes blazing.
"You lack the courage," Lam Tich whispered. He used the weakest voice possible, creating maximum contrast with the threat. "You are a caged dog. You fear freedom itself. Especially when I tell you the price of this freedom."
Lam Tich's cold breath ghosted over Dai Hung's face. "Upstairs… everyone is dead. Ly Bu is dead, the Great Priest is dead. All orthodox Divine Spark cultivators have been wiped out. The Evil God doesn't need souls. The Evil God needs the Divine Fetus—something nurtured by the blood of low-grade Divine Spark bearers like yourselves."
Lam Tich spun a detailed lie about a massacre orchestrated by the Lam family to eradicate all cultivators in this dungeon to nurture a new 'Divine Fetus.' "The Lam family wants to erase the evidence. This entire sector is about to be sealed. Ly Bu died for obstructing the ritual. He thought he could survive, but he was killed by 'That Thing' right behind my back."
"I am the only one who crawled out of the sacrificial hall. If I didn't carry the 'Blood of the Devil'—a cursed artifact the Lam family cannot control—I would have long since turned to dust."
Lam Tich pointed to his dangling arm and the dried blood on his chest. "These are not a prisoner's wounds. These are the marks of the ritual. I came here to find a covenant. A host for the Blood of the Devil. I didn't come to save you… I came to utilize you as shields."
The prisoners started murmuring, their fear spiking dramatically. The conflict between Lam Tich's terrifying composure and his undeniable frailty created unbearable psychological pressure. They began to see a crack in their hopelessness.
[Credibility: 50% (Extreme Confusion, Doubts Survival)]
Lam Tich knew it was time for the final blow.
He abruptly grabbed Dai Hung's wrist. Although his left arm was nearly exhausted, the Simulated Overlord's Aura was activated.
"Let go of me!" Dai Hung yelled instinctively, his voice trembling. He felt like he wasn't being held by a cripple, but touched by a force of nature.
Lam Tich exerted no strength. He only maintained the touch and the cold, unfocused stare. "Whoever wants to live, kneel and pledge loyalty. I need those willing to be meat shields, those willing to sacrifice themselves to conceal my weakness. Whoever wishes to be food for the Evil God, step out of that door alone."
Lam Tich casually pulled out the key chain and silently swung the massive prison gate wide open. The screech of rusted iron announced the path to freedom.
Freedom was right before their eyes. But not a single soul dared to rush out.
Freedom juxtaposed with a prophecy of doom had utterly broken the will of the long-imprisoned. Lam Tich's chilling composure, coupled with the blood-soaked jailer's coat, transformed him into a monster more terrifying than any Evil God.
[Credibility: 65% (Awe and Submission)][System Activation: Concept Borrowing – "Bearer of the Contagion of Belief"]
Lam Tich felt a new surge of Void Energy flow in. It was stable, derived from collective desperation.
Dai Hung slowly sank to his knees, his head bowed to the ground. He didn't kneel out of respect, but out of fear for his own survival. "Great One… lead us. I will be the first to be your meat shield! I accept becoming a cover for That Thing!"
One man knelt, then ten men followed suit. The clanking of chains on the stone floor sounded like the submission of an army of shadows.
Lam Tich stood amidst the kneeling prisoners, his expression utterly unchanged. He cleared his throat, spat out a bit more blood, and spoke with feigned weakness: "Stand up. I am a cripple, a blind Healer. I must be protected."
"From now on, you will be my Harbingers of Salvation. Your duty is to protect my weakness. The weaker I appear, the less I am suspected. The longer I survive, the more hope you have."
"Follow me. Do not look back, and do not ask questions. The one who hesitates will be the first one 'That Thing' devours."
Under the flickering firelight, a blind young master with a broken arm led a ruthless group of prisoners out of the darkness, heading toward the only path to the surface. The script of the "Crippled Healer Leading the Devil's Meat Shields" had officially begun. The stage was set for Lam Tich's next performance, where every step was a lie woven from the fears of others.