Chapter 253 Chapter 247: The Evil Ritual
24 hours later.
The beautiful palace was bustling, welcoming witches of various attire.
They spent a full two days preparing for the ritual, with makeup, dressing, and bathing taking up most of that time.
By evening, more than fifty witches fervently, obsessively, or reluctantly crowded around Ji Ma, kneeling in a practically useless hexagram formation, its only significance being to provide a sense of ritual to the participants.
Ji Ma pinched the faces of the witches or touched their stockings, occasionally kissing a few of them, before starting the desecration ritual.
She had meticulously prepared a horrifying extraordinary power that blended “mythical lies” and “curses,” becoming even stronger in resonance with the gathered witches.
She began to lie: “… no sensitive words… no abbreviations… no pirated content…”
Such lies, infused with horrifying power, flowed through the underground optical cables, surging towards the Chinese internet.
After the ritual succeeded, to celebrate, Ji Ma immediately held an inappropriate banquet with the witches.
…
…
“The donkey of the production team” stretched lazily, getting up from his soft down comforter.
Outside, the cold wind howled, and he shivered, putting on a sweater and down jacket under the covers, wrapping up in a scarf, and during that time he opened his phone, surfed the internet, and procrastinated for nearly an hour before rolling out of bed.
His new home was a spacious flat, and he lived alone.
He brushed his teeth with an electric toothbrush, walked to his computer room, where a sign hung on the door labeled as a plan board, stating “Double Update on Friday.”
“The donkey of the production team” looked down at his phone; time flew by, it was already Sunday. Had he written a chapter from Thursday to Sunday?
But he couldn’t really blame himself.
“The donkey of the production team” turned the cold doorknob and stepped into the wide computer room.
In the corner, a dusty “multidirectional treadmill” sat. Next to three computer screens was the INDEX VR equipment, and under the desk lay a heater.
Look at all the entertaining things; now he wasn’t short on money, had a stable income, and writing novels was just for fun, right?
“The donkey of the production team” couldn’t help but puff up with pride, feeling justified.
He turned on the air conditioning, let the warm air blow, and as he sat down, feeling good mentally, he had a sudden urge to write.
He went to the novel website, clicked on his personal center, and looked around. Oh, it turned out he hadn’t updated!
Just then, there was a message in the QQ group.
He clicked in, ready to use his empty promise of an update to deceive his few readers—of course, he didn’t think he was deceiving them. He genuinely believed he could update today or even do a double update, but the results often fell short of expectations.
He entered the QQ group.
“Dog author, hurry up with the update!”
“Today is a double update; I’m really not lying to you all @everyone.”
“Really?”
“Really?”
“The dog group leader is lying again.”
“Not believing, unless you agree to the small black room in the background.”
“Yeah, agree to the small black room.”
“Hey, why would I lie to you?” The donkey of the production team typed while opening the site: “I’m a member of the Political Consultative Conference, a project leader involved in a national first-level research project; how could I lie?”
“The dog group leader is bragging about being experimental material again.”
“Hehe, today I’m going to let you all see what a production team donkey is.”
“The donkey of the production team” opened the author backend. This site’s author backend had few functions, not even a blacklist feature, let alone advanced functions like subscriptions.
However, the usually “simple” author backend revealed several golden buttons: “Join the Genuine Plan,” “Guaranteed Completion”…
The donkey of the production team took a screenshot and sent it to the group: “The pineapple bun actually updated the web backend? This aesthetic is so outdated.”
A group member with the ID “Bobo the Shark”: “Did you see the last button ‘Accept the Challenge’? Just click that.”
“Oh.” What a new feature.
The donkey of the production team clicked the button, and a dialog box popped up.
“Readers tipped 300 RMB, requesting three updates in the small black room. Do you accept?”
The donkey of the production team laughed out loud, sending a screenshot to the group.
“This function is quite fun; it’s only five updates, not enough excitement. Given everyone’s generous tips, I’ll do five updates, 60 RMB each.”
“Bobo the Shark”: “Then I’ll add 300 RMB for ten updates.”
The donkey of the production team didn’t take it too seriously, thinking if he didn’t complete it, the worst that could happen was losing money—he could just pay 1,000 RMB.
“Sure, if you have the money, go for it.”
Group members were very excited, all rushing to tip.
A few minutes later.
“Readers tipped a total of 1,002 RMB, requesting fifty updates in the small black room. Do you accept?”
While sending a screenshot to the group, the donkey of the production team typed: “Just a small matter, I never said when I’d finish the fifty updates, ah hahaha.”
“Dog group leader!”
“Dog group leader!”
“Dog group leader!”
“Oh dear, the readers are really too naive and young.” The donkey of the production team replied with laughter, and after replying, he clicked confirm.
This was the moment he regretted the most in his life.
Once he clicked confirm, everything went black around him, with only the screen still lit up.
He instinctively thought there’d been a power outage, but it should be noon. He looked toward the window, and everything around him was dark as pitch, with nothing visible. Moreover, the computer screen was still bright.
“What’s going on?” The donkey of the production team posted in the group: “I think I’ve entered a small black room?”
“?”
“?”
“Yay, the lazy one is going to update.”
“Which fellow cultivator is manifesting? Or is it a witch? Let me tell you, I am a national-level extraordinary person, very powerful. Don’t force me to call the police.”
“The dog group leader is bragging again.”
The donkey of the production team manipulated the computer and tried it out; he could connect to the internet, but strangely, he couldn’t watch videos or play games. He had wanted to play games to relieve psychological pressure.
He stood up, surveyed the surroundings, and finally saw several big white words above his head.
“Fifty updates in the small black room, current progress 0/50, total word count at least 15,000 starting…”
“Note: If you enter this small black room, don’t think you can exploit rules by randomly typing words to loophole your way out.”
“Don’t worry about issues like eating, drinking, sleeping, and temperature, because I’ve brought you to a mysterious subspace, where questioning is magical.”
“Welcome to share your painful experiences on various forums.”
“Still, the same advice: if you’re upset, hold it in. If you’re not satisfied, you can jump off a building, headfirst to the ground; you might summon the savior to come and chop me.”
“Blue Star Demon King Ji Ma.”
“Bang!”
“The donkey of the production team” slammed his fists on the computer desk and yelled: “What crap! This is outrageous! A mere demon king dares to imprison a Chinese citizen! Breaking treaties!
“Fifty updates, isn’t that asking for my life?”
“Damn it! Demon King Ji Ma, listen up! I’m not afraid of you now; let me out of this small black room!”
To be honest, “the donkey of the production team” was somewhat courageous. Now, gradually, no one dared to say Ji Ma’s true name directly; they wouldn’t even dare to mention it, for fear of attracting the Demon King Ji Ma’s attention.
It was said that several people who spoke ill of her or cursed her suffered curses themselves. Among them, the most pitiful had argued with Ji Ma for a full three hours and cursed for three hours. It was said that he was still on the streets begging for money, wearing a sign that read “Hero Resisting the Demon King,” so at least he wouldn’t have to worry about food and drink.
It’s evident how much courage those three words “fifty updates” could give to a person.
The donkey of the production team raged in the small black room for a while before resignedly accepting the reality.
He started searching for ways to reduce the update requirements, sending red envelopes in the group, pleading with fellow readers to retract their requests. He ran to the author group for help—of the ten there, five were also in the small black room.
Nothing worked.
After struggling for a while, the donkey of the production team reluctantly updated in the small black room, one chapter after another.
On the first day, he lay on the ground sleeping, filled with pain; just thinking about how he had only added two chapters that day made him feel as if the sky was falling and life was unbearable.
On the second day, he was indignant and wrote about a righteous paladin who rode a white horse, shouting “Holy Light Above” as he pierced the Demon King through with a sword.
On the third day, the donkey of the production team’s heart became calm, living a regular life of typing.
…
On the thirteenth day.
The donkey of the production team had fallen in love with this life, even though he was now all dirty and smelly. But he continued to hammer the keyboard nonstop. In this dark and closed world, only when he wrote novels did he feel like he was flying in the vast skies, soaring in the second world, enjoying the wind of freedom…
…
…
Little Ji shifted her gaze from the files, shaking her head:
“Impossible; if the other party is also an extraordinary person, she shouldn’t have been able to pull off something so complex so easily. I suspect that labyrinth magic was added to the curse, but it also needs a certain level of intelligence to ensure that the victim can’t find loopholes and to ensure the other party can survive in the small black room.”
George asked, “Is there any theoretical possibility of success against a person?”
“There is.” Little Ji nodded: “But on such a large scale, it’s simply impossible.”
“Even with massive magic power?” George asked: “She can draw on the pain of billions of mortals.”
“No, that exceeds her capability.” Little Ji said: “On Earth, she absolutely cannot level up.”
“Ritual?” George had a guess: “It could be a ritual amplification. Undoubtedly, after sealing you, she must have acquired new extraordinary abilities.”
“Maybe.” Little Ji was helpless and felt useless. She rubbed her temples, thought for a moment, and shook her head in guilt: “I… I’m not sure.”
“We have to go to America.” George said: “Based on my understanding of her, if she has a way to ‘amplify capabilities,’ she will definitely not hesitate to experiment on mortals first.”
China arranged for a regular plane to take the two to America.
As the plane got closer to America, George felt like a bird caught in a forest fire, the evil power was too overwhelming.
When they got off the plane, George’s face was as cold as an Antarctic ice block.
Little Ji shouted: “So… so many.”
Almost everyone in the airport shone with blood-red light, extending a thin line that spread far away.
