Zhuyuan Li didn’t wait for an answer.
She turned and walked away as if she’d finished a business transaction. Behind her, Greed Wolf stood under the bleeding sun, frozen in place—like a man staring at a cliff he’d been ordered to jump from.
In the Independent Space, the Dream Twins spoke in low voices.
“She can’t stab him,” one of them said. “So she’s stabbing his conscience.”
Silvermoon’s expression stayed calm, but her eyes were cold. “That’s always been Zhuyuan Li’s style. If she can’t break your body, she’ll break your name.”
The other twin frowned. “And she framed it so cleanly. If he kills the handmaids, it’s because she ‘gave the order.’ If he refuses, he dies for nothing.”
Ethan watched Greed Wolf through the viewing frame. “There’s another layer,” he said quietly.
Silvermoon glanced at him.
Ethan didn’t miss the way Greed Wolf’s posture shifted—subtle, controlled. That wasn’t the stance of someone cornered. It was the stance of someone thinking.
“Greed Wolf is still Level 3,” Ethan continued. “Even if his Divinity Fusion is close to eight hundred, he hasn’t crossed the threshold.”
“That’s why she’s pushing,” Silvermoon said. “She wants him to ‘pay’ for his level-up.”
The Dream Twins exchanged a look. “And you?” one asked Ethan. “You’re Level 4 already.”
Ethan didn’t deny it. Among the players, he stood with the Seven Gods at Level 4—and he’d even pulled ahead by another hundred points of Divinity Fusion.
On the frame, Greed Wolf finally moved.
He didn’t chase Zhuyuan Li.
He went back into the Sanctuary.
The camera-angle followed him down into the cathedral’s depths, past blood-smeared symbols and kneeling cultists. He moved like a storm. Anything that tried to block him died.
He reached the “womb hall.”
The handmaids were there—rows of them—some moaning, some silent, all exhausted. The air was thick with the copper stink of blood and the sour rot of rituals gone too far.
Greed Wolf stood at the entrance for one long second.
Ethan could almost hear the clock ticking in his skull.
Greed Wolf did something Zhuyuan Li clearly hadn’t planned for.
He pulled out an item and smashed it onto the ground.
A ring of white light spread across the floor like a shockwave.
Chains snapped.
Stalls dissolved.
One by one, the handmaids vanished—teleported out of the cathedral in a mass transfer, ripped away from the Blood-Red Nun’s ritual before Greed Wolf ever raised a blade against them.
In the Independent Space, one of the Dream Twins blinked. “He… saved them?”
Silvermoon didn’t look surprised. “He found the third option.”
Ethan’s gaze sharpened. “And he just cut off the Nun’s supply.”
The air in the cathedral trembled.
A wet laugh echoed through the stone.
The Blood-Red Nun stepped out from the shadows, her red habit trailing like spilled paint. Her smile was too wide, too pleased—as if the world was finally entertaining her.
For a heartbeat, Greed Wolf and the Nun faced each other in silence.
The whole Sanctuary shook.
Outside, New Star’s sky turned a deeper shade of crimson, like someone had poured fresh blood across the sun.
The doomsday countdown hit its final tick.
New Star’s End began.
Greed Wolf didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, weapon flashing.
But the Blood-Red Nun didn’t fight like a boss that expected to win.
She fought like something that needed time.
She slipped away, turning her body into liquid motion, letting Greed Wolf’s attacks carve nothing but air. Blood rose from the floor to snag his ankles, to blind him, to slow him—stall tactics, nothing more.
“She’s buying seconds,” Ethan said.
“For the birth,” Silvermoon replied.
The Dream Twins’ voices overlapped again, eerily in sync. “Or for escape.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He’d been so focused on Zhuyuan Li’s trap that he’d almost missed the bigger pattern.
Predators didn’t always charge.
Sometimes they ran—from something worse.
The cathedral lights flared. The red sigils pulsed like veins. A distant roar rolled across New Star as the world’s foundations started to buckle.
Somewhere beyond the Sanctuary, the final calamity had already awakened.
Greed Wolf looked up, as if he could feel it too.
And in that brief pause, Ethan understood: Greed Wolf hadn’t refused Zhuyuan Li’s “test.” He’d simply refused to play it the way she wanted.
When the viewing frame’s image finally blurred—New Star’s collapse interfering with Silvermoon’s sight—Ethan let out a slow breath.
Silvermoon turned to him. “You said your Talent upgraded.”
Ethan nodded.
“As a Level 4 player,” he said, “SSS-Rank Infinite Fishing evolved again.”
The Dream Twins leaned in, interest sharpening at last.
Ethan lifted an empty hand, as if feeling the tension of an invisible line. “I can fish for almost any attribute now. Not just items. Not just resources.”
He met Silvermoon’s eyes.
“I can fish for Divinity Fusion.”
Silvermoon’s pupils contracted. “Steal it?”
“Pull it,” Ethan corrected. “If I lock onto a target, I can drag their Divinity Fusion into my own—raise mine while lowering theirs. And if I’m under attack, I can fish against the force itself, cancelling part of it out.”
The Dream Twins went still.
Ethan’s voice stayed even, but the implications were enormous. In a world where power was measured in divinity and thresholds, his rod had become a weapon that could rewrite the scoreboard.
Ethan looked back toward the blurred image of the collapsing Sanctuary.
“And that,” he said quietly, “means we’re not out of options—even if Greed Wolf doesn’t become the ninth Level 4 player today.”