Forced to Act out a Strange Script with a Rival - Chapter 71

Undoubtedly, she was worried.

The icy seawater, carrying a bone-chilling frost, crashed against the jagged reefs.

Deep purple tentacles, like the most cautious of giant pythons, moved smoothly among the various buildings on the island, carefully cradling Li Ting.

The rain continued to pour, but as they entered the area bordering the sea, the invisible pressure brought by the Evil God seemed to thin out significantly.

Enduring the stinging pain of the seawater soaking into the wound on her shoulder, Li Ting relied on the blurred memories left from her previous reconnaissance of the island’s terrain, guiding the tentacles toward a small wooden shack by the sea.

The shack stood lonely in a secluded cove, nearly half-submerged in the rising tide. The wooden walls, gnawed mottled and decayed by sea breeze and salt erosion, had a partially collapsed roof and looked precarious, yet it was one of the few places that could evade the frenzied gazes on the island.

Cradling Li Ting, the tentacles slowly approached the dilapidated building. Just as they were about to arrive, the massive limbs suddenly paused slightly.

[Huh—] Si Xiaoxiao’s voice echoed in Li Ting’s mind, carrying clear confusion and an imperceptible tremor: [This place… this place… I feel like I’ve been here before.]

Been here before? Li Ting frowned. This place was remote and hidden, a rare sanctuary. Had Si Xiaoxiao been here too? Could the things inside the shack have been left by her?

Si Xiaoxiao seemed to be struggling to sift through the chaotic, shattered fragments of her memory. A few seconds later, she let out a more certain gasp, having truly found a clue: [This is where I woke up!!]

“Woke up?” Li Ting became even more confused. So Si Xiaoxiao hadn’t been unconscious from the very beginning? It seemed there were still truths on this island yet to be unearthed—truths that were the key to the “death” of her “sister,” Si Xiaoxiao.

Although Li Ting was desperate for information, Si Xiaoxiao remained as careless as ever.

[Oh, I can’t remember the details clearly. It seems like at first I… ahhh, damn it…] Si Xiaoxiao’s voice sounded frustrated, as if she were unwilling to dwell on that chaotic experience: [Forget about that for now!]

Her tone suddenly became urgent and weak: [I overused my power just now… and that hateful fellow swallowed more than half of my physical energy… I feel… I might not be able to maintain this form much longer…]

Before her voice faded, Li Ting felt the strength cradling her begin to waver, though she was still placed gently on the ground.

The two remaining pink limbs—one main tentacle and one guarding secondary tentacle—began to emit a faint fluorescence, like ripples on water. They drew close to each other, their forms blurring and melting like wax figures, “shrinking” rapidly at a pace visible to the naked eye.

The once thick and powerful tentacles became the size of a bowl’s rim, then the width of an arm…

“Ah?” Li Ting’s heart tightened. She immediately realized that Si Xiaoxiao’s injuries were far more serious than they appeared!

The Evil God’s consumption clearly carried a terrifying effect of stripping away one’s primordial power; no wonder it grew larger toward the end.

“Do you want to dive into the shadows to rest first? Or… do you have any other way to recover faster?” she asked urgently, her eyes fixed on the shrinking tentacles. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand.

Undoubtedly, she was worried.

However, even at this point, that arrogant, stubborn soul refused to show weakness. Though her voice was significantly weaker, she continued to force a front: [It’s… it’s fine! It… it doesn’t even hurt! Why… why are you making a face like you’re about to cry! So ugly! It’s not like you at all!]

Even now, she has to be stubborn! This girl really… really never changes!

A surge of nameless anger rushed into Li Ting’s heart—anger at her insincerity, and even more, a hatred for her own helplessness in this desperate situation.

She suddenly raised her voice, her tone carrying a sharp, almost spiteful edge, just like in reality when she lashed out at someone important: “Fine! I won’t care about you then! Suit yourself! The great Ms. Si Xiaoxiao can obviously handle anything!”

[Eh? Eh?!] Si Xiaoxiao seemingly didn’t expect this reaction. Her voice carried a hint of grievance and panic: [How can you burn the bridge after crossing it! I’m an injured person right now! A severely injured person!]

“Aren’t you the great Ms. Si Xiaoxiao? Hmm? Aren’t you very powerful? What’s a few broken tentacles to you?” Li Ting instinctively entered their daily bickering mode, as if only this could suppress the panic and powerlessness that threatened to drown her.

What a blockhead who loves to act tough.

[That won’t do… you have to… you have to help me…] Si Xiaoxiao’s voice grew weaker, thin as a thread, yet she still stubbornly tried to maintain her pride, though anyone could hear the strain.

In the span of those few sentences, the tentacles had shrunken to the size of a child’s arm, slumped limply on the wooden platform, unable even to stay lifted. They gave a final few wriggles, as if exhausting their last bit of strength, and began to arduously—almost instinctively—curl inward into a ball. Even the luster on the surface grew increasingly dull.

The entire tentacle looked pitiful.

[It’s almost… time…] Si Xiaoxiao’s voice became extremely ethereal, unable to even maintain her usual arrogant tone. It sounded as if it were coming from the bottom of a very distant sea, intermittent and liable to cut off at any moment: [Li Ting… remember… later… follow ‘me’… I… my power and consciousness are fading fast… I might… go to sleep…]

Li Ting’s heart sank. She threw herself toward the still-wriggling purple mass, her voice trembling in a way she didn’t even notice: “What do you mean? Si Xiaoxiao! How do I help you recover? Tell me clearly!”

[…If you really don’t know… how to help me recover…] That voice was as faint as a candle in the wind, yet it still struggled to convey the final message: [Just think back… to the previous dungeon… do what we did… in the previous dungeon!!]

Did that sound a bit like she was getting embarrassed and angry? Huh? What happened now, Princess Si Xiaoxiao?

“The previous dungeon? What does that mean? Which dungeon? Do what??” Li Ting’s brow furrowed so deeply it could have crushed a fly. She fired off questions like a machine gun, her hands hovering subconsciously over the mass of tentacles, not daring to touch it for fear of aggravating the pain.

She truly had no clue.

However, there was no more response.

The ethereal mental link snapped like a cut thread, suddenly falling into dead silence.

Under Li Ting’s horrified gaze, the curled-up, arm-thick remnants of the tentacles began their final and most astonishing transformation.

It seemed to lose all skeletal and structural support, softening and shrinking further like a mass of living purple jelly. It “clumped” itself together autonomously, eventually condensing into a basketball-sized, slightly heaving, deep purple… egg? Or perhaps a cocoon?

It felt… a bit cute, yet a bit hilarious?

Li Ting really didn’t know what expression she should make.

Immediately after, the surface of this “cocoon” began to slowly unfold and peel away like a flower bud.

It wasn’t a rupture, of course, but a very gentle morphological transition.

The purple luster gradually turned inward, and the volume shrank even further.

A few seconds later, all the anomalies vanished. What lay before Li Ting was no longer that terrifying and powerful deep-sea tentacle that seemed to possess infinite strength, but a… palm-sized, soft, translucent baby-pink little octopus with one large, round eye and several tiny limbs.

It looked wet and limp, seemingly extremely fragile.

That large eye took up almost half of its head. At this moment, it blinked ignorantly and blankly, exuding a sense of pure innocence entirely different from before—a completely different art style compared to the former terrifying monster.

It moved a tiny limb slightly and let out a thin, dorky: “Ji?”

Li Ting was completely stunned, her pupils dilating in shock.

Has she… turned back to her original form??

No, it couldn’t even be called her “original form.” This was perhaps… some kind of regression?

Or a self-preservation form under extreme weakness?

It looked like Si Xiaoxiao had exhausted her energy, her consciousness had gone completely silent, and she had—once again—gone offline!

And this time, she went offline so thoroughly that she reverted to “factory settings”?!

But then again… do octopuses make that sound?

Li Ting looked at the harmless, even somewhat cute little thing in front of her, then thought back to the terrifying tentacles that had torn through the rain to battle the Evil God just moments ago, and Si Xiaoxiao’s arrogant, talkative voice… an extremely strong, absurd sense of fragmentation struck her brain, leaving her unable to react for a moment.

She took a deep breath of the cold, damp air, forcing herself to calm down.

Despair and panic wouldn’t solve anything.

At least they could still rely on each other, couldn’t they? This was much better than the worst possible outcome.

She carefully and extremely gently reached out a finger to touch the little octopus’s soft body.

The little fellow seemed to shrink back, a hint of fear showing in its large eye, but there was no aggression.

“Si Xiaoxiao?” Li Ting called out tentatively in a low voice.

“Ji?” The little octopus tilted its round head, its large eye filled with pure confusion, seemingly having no reaction to the name.

Well, although the situation is critical now… I suddenly have a mischievous urge to bully her—no, wait, bully the fish.

So, Li Ting reached out the finger that had been itching to move since the moment the little octopus appeared, and… gave the little octopus’s big forehead a heavy flick.

The little octopus fell backward like a tumble-toy before straightening itself back up. Only then, its large eyes instantly filled with tears.

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