Forced to Act out a Strange Script with a Rival - Chapter 72

The little octopus was crying…

And it was all because Li Ting had given its round, chubby head a playful, teasing flick.

The force was genuinely light, more like a joke between friends, but to this little creature—whose senses seemed abnormally heightened and whose mind had regressed to a larval stage—it felt like a monumental grievance.

Large, crystalline teardrops welled up in its big eyes and spilled over instantly, pitter-pattering down. It was a literal manifestation of “pearls large and small falling onto a jade plate.”

Soon, the small patch of the table surrounding it was soaked.

It even let out tiny, sobbing “ji… ji…” sounds. Its small tentacles curled up pathetically, and its entire body seemed to shrink by a size.

Where does such a tiny body hold so much water? Li Ting wondered.

Having teased the “fish,” Li Ting felt a rare pang of guilt. She lifted her finger and tapped the little creature’s head again, this time with a hint of comfort.

To her surprise, the little thing held no grudge at all. The moment it felt the gentle touch of her fingertip, the sobbing ceased. It looked up at Li Ting with misty, tear-filled eyes and then proactively extended a tiny tentacle to wind around her finger. It even rubbed its cool, slimy head affectionately against her fingertip.

Li Ting: “…”

Is this really that terrifying deep-sea monster?

Why is it still so… puppy-like? Give it a little sunshine and it beams; give it a finger and it climbs right up.

Li Ting’s lip twitched involuntarily.

I suppose I should expect nothing less from Si Xiaoxiao. Certain things in her bones probably wouldn’t change even if she turned into a single-celled organism.

When Li Ting tentatively held out her palm, the little creature acted with surprising tact. It voluntarily released its suction from the table and scrambled awkwardly but diligently into her palm, moving like a dainty, natural little princess inspecting her territory.

Once it found its footing, it extended a tiny tentacle and pointed precisely toward a dusty, abandoned-looking fish tank in the corner of the dilapidated shack.

Li Ting had a sudden flash of insight: “You want to go in there?”

The octopus’s big head bobbed up and down as if nodding.

Quite human-like, actually.

So, Li Ting carried the little octopus, navigating the ruined wooden house with difficulty, and placed it into the fish tank on the bedroom desk as requested.

Though the shack looked ramshackle on the outside, a bit of scavenging revealed that it was fully stocked with everything an adult might need for daily life. This made Li Ting even more curious about the original owner.

The moment it hit the water, the little octopus became visibly jubilant. It did a nimble flip, exhaled a string of tiny bubbles, and waved its tentacles cheerfully, as if returning to its most secure and comfortable environment. Its carefree play made it easy to forget that just moments ago, it had been crying enough to flood the room.

Li Ting fixed her gaze on the frolicking creature. Si Xiaoxiao’s final words echoed in her mind: she had told her to just “act according to the previous instances.”

What does that mean? The previous instances… that would be the Succubus, the Saintess, and the Warden…

Li Ting’s thoughts raced.

The first was the Succubus. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the memory. That instance required… intimate contact to absorb so-called “energy.”

Am I supposed to do that to this octopus?

The thought was extinguished the moment it arose. That was absurd! Setting aside the fact that Si Xiaoxiao’s current state made it impossible, even if she could, there was no way to “start” in this form. Her conscience wouldn’t allow it.

She shook her head to clear the unrealistic thought.

Next was the Saintess and the Blasphemer. The core of that instance seemed to be the destruction of faith, concluding with Si Xiaoxiao’s tears.

Li Ting reached out, dipping her finger into the water to poke the octopus’s smooth head. She tried to make it cry again.

However, the little octopus seemed to find the warm finger comfortable. It rubbed its head against her fingertip again and let out a softer, gentler “ji~” of contentment.

Li Ting: “…” I’d feel too guilty intentionally making such a sweet, dim-witted little thing cry.

She withdrew her hand, frowning. Better to think of something else.

Finally, there was the Prison instance: the Warden and the Prisoner. That was full of confrontation, suppression, and interrogation—an aesthetic of love and hate.

That seems even less plausible. Am I supposed to “interrogate” this octopus?

Looking at the little creature—which seemed dejected now that her finger had left, its tentacles waving aimlessly—Li Ting felt a wave of helplessness. Those bizarre scenarios were truly difficult to replicate.

What a headache.

Li Ting felt utterly stymied by this fragile, carefree octopus. She felt the seeping blood on her shoulder and her nearly exhausted strength. She gave a bitter smile; this was somehow harder than facing an Evil God directly.

Forget it for now. I need to treat my wound first.

Ignoring the octopus, Li Ting found a medical kit in the shack. “No peeking, okay?” she said to the tank.

The octopus blinked its innocent eyes, floated to the surface, and blew a bubble in response.

Li Ting’s most serious injury was on her shoulder, a heavy blow from the initial encounter with the God. To treat it, she naturally had to undress.

But the octopus was still Si Xiaoxiao, even an unconscious one. Disrobing in front of her felt awkward. Furthermore, she didn’t know if Si Xiaoxiao would retain her memories as an octopus later.

To be safe, Li Ting—ears red—turned the small fish tank around. The octopus looked confused, spinning along with the glass, but when the turn was finished, its round eyes were still staring innocently at her.

Finally, Li Ting reached into the tank and manually folded the octopus’s tentacles over its own eyes.

“Don’t move them, do you hear me?” she said, her voice a mix of coaxing and embarrassment.

The octopus seemed puzzled by the strange posture, but it was unexpectedly obedient. It didn’t move its tentacles, standing there foolishly holding its “hands” over its eyes. It looked both adorable and hilarious.

Relieved, Li Ting turned her back to apply the medicine. However, she didn’t realize that the curious little octopus had quietly moved its tentacles aside.

A smooth back, delicate skin, and the elegant curve of a neck… in the dim light, she seemed to glow with a soft luster.

The pink octopus in the water darkened slightly in color, becoming a deeper, riper shade of rose. Its tiny tentacles beat rhythmically against the water—an unconscious attempt to resist a primal surge of excitement and curiosity.

Octopuses are, after all, cunning creatures.

Enduring the pain, Li Ting focused on cleaning and bandaging her wound. She was completely unaware of the “burning” gaze coming from the tank behind her.

Once finished, she let out a long sigh, wiped the cold sweat from her brow, and turned around—only to come face-to-face with the octopus!

Its tentacles were wide open, its eyes were bulging, and its body was now as pink as a boiled shrimp, even emitting tiny, frantic bubbles.

Their eyes met. The air froze.

What a perverted octopus!

She immediately fished the little thing out of the tank.

“Ji?! Ji-ji!” Startled by the sudden removal from the water, the octopus flailed its tentacles.

However, it didn’t seem afraid. Instead, it thought Li Ting was playing a new game. After a brief moment of panic, it proactively latched onto her wrist, its tentacles coiling affectionately. It acted as if it were saying, “You’re finally playing with me again!”

Feeling the cool, slimy suction on her skin and seeing the creature’s total trust and fawning attitude, Li Ting’s irritation stalled halfway. She couldn’t stay angry.

In the end, all she could do was let out a long, heavy sigh filled with helplessness and complicated emotions.

I just hope that when you return to normal and remember this, you don’t die of shame.

“Ji-ji?” The octopus couldn’t comprehend complex human emotions. It simply clung happily to Li Ting’s palm, treating it like a new home.

Li Ting tried to put it back in the tank, but it held on tight. When she pulled gently, it let out a distressed “ji-ji,” as if she were abandoning it. Fearing she might hurt the delicate creature, she gave up.

Since having it on her palm was too restrictive, she nudged it up to her wrist, letting it hang there like a living, cool, pink bracelet.

Outside, the sky had turned pitch black. Li Ting sat on the bed, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. Exhaustion hit her like a tide. Her shoulder throbbed, a constant reminder of the danger they were in.

While the octopus didn’t understand human worries, it could sense Li Ting’s heaviness. It was no longer satisfied being a mere wrist accessory.

It crawled up her arm, eventually settling on her shoulder.

Suddenly, Li Ting felt a strange, bone-deep coolness and moisture. It seeped through her thin clothes and the gauze, trickling into her wound.

Li Ting opened her eyes and looked down.

The octopus was no longer in its usual shape. Instead, it had flattened itself into an “octopus pancake,” squeezing past the barriers to press itself firmly against her injury.

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