7. The Lord of Nothingness

Jiang Heyi and his companions did not rush to teleport.

This region, clearly far from the Anna Empire, could only be reached via teleportation, and the damaged Starry Sky Treasure Jade required recharging after every use. Once combat losses occurred during exploration, they would be forced to return to Windpod to regroup, a cost that was prohibitively high. Having witnessed the terrifying one-shot capability of the Lantern Girl and the bone-chilling movement speed of the Nun Ghost, Jiang Heyi knew they had to be careful, measuring the risks against their current level of game understanding, character levels, and equipment.

"Hey, watch me finish this in one life," Jailer Bro suddenly announced.
It was certainly a "one-life" run, though it was uncertain whose life would be the one to end.

To maximize the team's survival rate, the group began purchasing supplies. Their first stop was outside Windpod City, where "Inferior Fire Potions" were cheap, effective, and possessed an unstable quality that could lead to a higher damage cap upon triggering—perfect for their currently weak state. Along the way, Jailer Bro chatted with Orange Tea, while Zhong Zemo patiently provided necessary explanations to help her integrate into the team, or perhaps to help her decide if she wanted to bid a polite farewell after the dungeon if her tolerance for their antics wasn't high enough. Whether or not one becomes part of a permanent team is always a two-way selection.

"Jailer Bro, why did you choose a name like that?" Orange Tea asked suddenly.
[Jailer Appreciation Expert]—what exactly was there to appreciate about jailers? Was it some sort of game meme? This question made Zhong Zemo, who acted as the team’s social lubricant, twitch his mouth, while Jailer Bro just chuckled happily. It was clear that Orange Tea’s previous social circle was worlds away from people like Jiang Heyi, and she couldn't yet grasp the sheer absurdity of Jailer Bro’s ID. Jailer Bro didn't explain further, simply brushing it off with a laugh and skillfully changing the subject. A prankster and a social terrorist, he could always pull out different topics to keep the conversation flowing; with him around, one never had to worry about awkward silences.

Along the main trade routes of the Anna Empire outside Windpod, a temporary market had formed. Hunters, mages, and merchants about to embark on journeys would simply toss a blanket on the ground to create a stall; others didn't even bother with that, laying their goods directly on the dirt. Beyond players wandering between these stalls, NPCs also came to shop, blurring the lines between the two.

Zhong Zemo once asked an intriguing question: "If the game didn't provide us with an information panel, would we even be able to tell who is a player and who is an NPC?"

Since there was no tax to pay to the city governor, prices here were relatively low, though the quality was inconsistent. Aside from the "Inferior Fire Potions" sold by Brana the Witch—who had been marked by Original Flavor Fries—Jiang Heyi didn't dare test his luck at other stalls. He wondered if this treasure of a potion-maker would be swamped by crowds and impossible to find by the next time he logged in.

"Hmm?"
A particular stall caught the attention of Jiang Heyi’s entire team, and quite a few other passing players stopped as well. On a damp piece of linen lay dozens of fish of varying sizes. The largest was at least 1.7 meters long—huge and plump, its silvery-white scales refracting a beautiful, mesmerizing rainbow light. It lay across the front of the stall, the sheer visual shock causing every passing player to freeze for a few seconds, staring blankly at the stall owner who was calling out half-heartedly.

ID: Chestnut Warrior.
He was a human player with a very ordinary-looking avatar. Beyond players like Jiang Heyi who sought exploration and challenge, some players of *Starry Proof* were simply drawn in by the world itself, turning to lifestyle gameplay. Since *Starry Proof* was sufficiently free, they sought their own path of leisure here, indulging in impulses that had no outlet in their daily lives. Just as a fisherman in reality might get lost in their own neighborhood if they had a massive catch, Chestnut Warrior’s stall was clearly about more than just profit. Before long, he had reeled in several fellow angling enthusiasts from the crowd.

"Is this fish for sale?" Jiang Heyi asked.
"Not the big one, I still want to display it," Chestnut Warrior replied honestly.

As a lifestyle player who kept to himself, he ended up selling the rest of his catch from the past two days to Jiang Heyi for a bargain price. No one competed with Jiang Heyi, leaving him to buy it all. At this stage, most players were focused on leveling up; spending hard-earned resources on items useless for progression was considered too extravagant.

"Why are you buying so many fish?" Zhong Zemo asked curiously on the way back to the city.
"To feed the doll in my homestead. It eats everything, so these should work." Jiang Heyi then looked at Orange Tea. "Consider this a loan for now."
Orange Tea shook her head repeatedly. "It's fine, it's just a small thing."

A shout interrupted their conversation. "Hey, you, the martial artist in front!"
The shout caused everyone on the street to stop and look toward the source. Jiang Heyi was no exception, meeting several provocative gazes. They were players, but Jiang Heyi didn't recognize them at all.

"Cyber Potato, that’s the right ID. You’re the one who acted like a toxic player and sabotaged people, right?"
After a moment of stunned silence, Jiang Heyi sighed helplessly. He gave a token denial, but the other party didn't believe him. As they began telling bystanders about Jiang Heyi’s "glorious deeds" of sabotaging "Watermelon Shaomai," a streamer in the gaming section with 100,000 followers, the crowd began to murmur. The accusation of stealing loot resonated with many, and the whispers grew into anger. Some among them hadn't even read the lengthy manifesto the streamer had posted and hadn't been following the drama, but that didn't stop them from joining the trend and participating in the "justice."

If this had been a designated PvP zone, some of these people might have already attacked. On the way back to the city, people continued to trail them, "protecting" others from Jiang Heyi, ensuring they couldn't explore properly while constantly broadcasting his ID and alleged deeds. Jailer Bro, with his maxed-out stress resistance, even had the energy to raise his hands in a "I'm an idiot" pose, egging them on to "speak louder." The experienced Zhong Zemo was calm and collected; as a teacher, he had seen much bigger scenes. As for Original Flavor Fries, her stoicism was legendary. Orange Tea, however, didn't spend much time online and was left feeling at a loss.

To put her at ease, Jiang Heyi revealed his hand: "I have evidence to prove my innocence, don't worry."
Jailer Bro grew excited. "Evidence? Is it substantial? You're up against a 'big' streamer, you know~" He dragged out the word "big" deliberately, his flippant tone and mocking eyes revealing his true thoughts. "A bottom-tier leach coming to our *Starry Proof* to stir up drama? We have to slap her face and rip off her virtual skin." Wherever there was fun, he was there; Jailer Bro’s prankster soul was burning.

Zhong Zemo asked in surprise, "If you have evidence, why didn't you post it immediately?"
"Releasing it immediately would prove my innocence, but it wouldn't sanction her for trying to frame me. At this stage, people's emotions haven't built up enough to be converted into 'momentum.' Only when the fire is roaring, and the onlookers feel their sense of justice has been toyed with, will she be consumed by the very fire she started."

"Her persona is a necessary facade for her profit; it’s very important to her." Jiang Heyi’s mouth curled upward. "I want to tear it to pieces and make her pay a sufficient price. To achieve that, I’m willing to pay a trivial price myself."

To be misunderstood, insulted, and slandered in a game, only to watch someone’s livelihood get kicked over by an angry mob—even if the process might have some uncontrollable variables—was, all things considered, a very profitable trade.

"I'll go help stir the fire once I wake up," Jailer Bro said, rubbing his hands together, already eager to see the chaos unfold.

With little game time left and after distributing the items to everyone, Jiang Heyi returned to his homestead. Garlic Sprout sat quietly at the stone table, staring at the spot where Jiang Heyi appeared. She had seemingly held this posture for a long time, looking much like an elder waiting for their child to come home.

"Want some fish?" Jiang Heyi pulled the fresh fish from his inventory.
Garlic Sprout floated forward impatiently. Her stomach split open, revealing a massive gap that opened and closed like a Venus flytrap, sucking the fish in instantly. Her body was small, but it was like a bottomless pit. Once finished, the features of eye sockets, lips, and a nose appeared on her featureless face, and her blue-tinted body gradually turned flesh-colored.

Perhaps because she was full, Garlic Sprout offered Jiang Heyi a hint. "As the doll of a master, we can learn and grow according to the branches you choose, providing services including, but not limited to, refining basic magic potions. This may be of great benefit to you, Master."
"Very useful information, but I’ve run out of materials to feed you. Next time, for sure."

After communicating a few times, Jiang Heyi understood: the homestead doll was effectively a butler that remained in the game while the player was logged off, and its functionality unlocked based on what you fed it. If it grew enough, it should be possible to achieve the dream of "the doll does the work while the player slacks off."

Jiang Heyi had a sudden thought. He looked at Garlic Sprout, who was spinning at high speed on one toe like a ballerina. "If I asked who created you, how would you answer?"
He had been in the game for three hours, yet he still knew nothing about its background. There were no official guides, no introductions, and no hand-holding; players were left entirely to their own exploration. This matched some of the marketing for *Starry Proof*, such as "the second life after falling asleep" or "your other possibility." Aside from the player info panel, the line between reality and fantasy was incredibly blurred here.

Yet, what was the connection between these things and the game's title? Jiang Heyi had yet to find a link between this world of swords and magic and the "Starry" aspect. Surely, in this medieval setting, there weren't unspeakable cosmic horrors raging in other regions? "Creation" was a good entry point. If Garlic Sprout didn't answer with meta-knowledge about designers or AI, it might touch upon the fundamental worldview.

"God."
At this moment, Garlic Sprout suddenly knelt piously on one knee, hands clasped over her chest. Her face, now with basic features, looked up toward the heavens. Jiang Heyi followed her gaze: the sun was high, the sky blue and clear.

"What god?"
The eye sockets that had just been traced began to glow with a faint white light, as if invisible hands were filling in the gaps of her incomplete body, mending her broken soul. They were sea-blue eyes, deep yet clear.

"You can understand, yet you cannot."
"The world is woven and turned by her hand."
"Souls are conceived in her soft whispers."
"Flesh is like clay, molded at will."
"Far beyond what all things in this world can perceive."
"She is the destination for the soulless."
"She is the Void."

For some reason, Jiang Heyi’s heart began to race. Was it because of Garlic Sprout’s serious tone, the mockery of a pity for the ignorant, or the lingering echoes of that rhythmic, chanting-like praise that had stirred up a storm within him?

"What god?" he decided to ask one more time.
The tracing of Garlic Sprout’s eyes stopped abruptly, and she fell silent.