The Consequences Of Being A Tyrant Chapter 4
byChapter 4 Dream Come True? Buddha’s Mercy
Lin Yu had never seen a statue like this in his own world.
It was somewhat bizarre, yet carried a hint of mystery.
Out of respect for a power that science could not explain, Lin Yu quickly retracted his gaze, not daring to glance a second time. He quietly skirted the statue and looked toward the deeper parts of the structure.
It was all doors.
Great doors, constructed of unknown material, were connected like an unbroken screen, engraved with the same unknown patterns and script as the stone pillars. They stretched out like a gray-white mountain range, magnificent yet slightly strange.
Lin Yu decided not to explore those areas for now, just in case something he couldn’t control occurred.
After all, with such a massive statue of a human head and snake body in the center, even if he had been a staunch atheist before, his worldview had been shattered into pieces after this whole transmigration ordeal.
He had to proceed with caution.
He surveyed his surroundings once more.
Lin Yu felt a little disappointed; there were no offerings whatsoever before the divine statue. His idea of saying some nice words in exchange for food the deity didn’t need was completely ruined.
Fortunately, the area was brightly lit, alleviating some of his fear of the dark. Lin Yu disliked darkness; even when sleeping at night, he would keep a small lamp on by his bedside to ensure he was surrounded by light.
However, the light source here was too bright, leaving almost nowhere to hide. Lin Yu could only choose to curl up in the statue’s shadow to spend the rest of the night.
Although the temperature and the hard floor made him quite uncomfortable, he was simply too tired and sleepy to care much. He closed his eyes and immediately fell into a deep, sweet sleep.
Above the dome, Yanyan looked down at the tiny figure huddled beneath his statue. He had never seen such a weak and delicate creature before, and moreover, the creature always carried a strange sense of familiarity.
In his territory, something so frail yet somewhat cute—this form and behavior—suddenly reminded him of the description given by the loud, mournful-faced person he had driven out this morning: a Pet.
In his line of sight, the small figure below was sleeping restlessly. Yanyan watched him toss and turn, though his movements were small, never leaving the small patch of ground warmed by his body. Occasionally, he would shiver when chilled by the cold touch of the floor tiles below.
He looked quite pitiful.
Yanyan watched for a while. His scales contracted, as if he too had caught a hint of the cold. He hadn’t been sleepy at all, but now he coiled his tail and closed his eyes, beginning a light slumber.
His abilities were not under his control, and Yanyan disliked the feeling of being drawn into others’ dreams. Those unrelated emotions felt so alien that they irritated him.
When Yanyan opened his eyes again, he was awakened by rustling sounds below. He lowered his gaze. The small, black-haired figure was hopping and jumping beneath his statue, doing something unknown. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent, and his eyes were barely squinted, looking utterly exhausted.
Yet, his movements never stopped.
Yanyan was slightly confused.
It wasn’t until the sun rose completely, shining fiercely upon him, that the small figure below finally seemed like a robot running out of power. With a whoosh, he rolled into a corner and fell into a deep sleep.
For some reason, seeing the fair belly exposed as the figure rolled, Yanyan suddenly thought of a cartoon animal.
A piglet?
The sun was too hot. Yanyan narrowed his pupils and slowly moved down. But as soon as he moved, the small figure below was thoroughly exposed to the blinding sunlight.
Lin Yu felt like a vampire about to be annihilated by the sun. The dazzling white light was like a nuclear bomb exploding before his eyes. Tears kept seeping out even when his eyes were closed. His head was fuzzy, and he didn’t want to move at all. His body was filled with exhaustion, his limbs like heavy lead weights. The only resistance he managed to muster with all his strength was changing his posture.
He let his dark head bear the brunt of the fiery sun.
He closed his eyes and mumbled, “It’s burning up.”
Then let it burn him to death.
He truly didn’t want to move anymore.
The next moment, he felt a cool shadow envelop him, blocking the harsh sunlight.
Was it a soft, white cloud?
As soon as the thought flashed through his mind, he sank back into sweet unconsciousness.
Yanyan withdrew his gaze, shook his tail that was about to be cooked, and reverted to his original form.
After an unknown amount of time, Yanyan looked up at the white clouds gathering in the sky and gently shifted his stiffening tail.
The fair, tender little person below was still sleeping soundly. Daytime was a good time for him to sleep. Yanyan was preparing to spend the day coiled around the pillar he usually favored when he saw a figure approaching along the forest path outside. The appearance was familiar—it was the person he had driven out yesterday.
Yanyan initially wanted to tell the person to scram immediately, but for some reason, he eventually slid down slowly.
On the stone path in the deep forest, An Qiao stopped as if he had seen a ghost. He rubbed his eyes repeatedly, but the massive creature coiled above the dome remained unchanged in his sight.
His legs trembling, his face pale, he felt he would soon have to hire a second owner for his little Pet with a hefty sum.
It was well known that their King did not have a good temper; in fact, it was quite foul. In the past, whenever he was thrown out, the red tail was always wrapped around the gray-white stone pillar. An Qiao was used to that environment. Now, unexpectedly seeing their King brazenly out sunbathing, he wondered if the King was so utterly disgusted with him that he couldn’t even tolerate the time it took for An Qiao to walk, and was about to blast him out of here so quickly.
An Qiao watched the elegant giant beast slowly sliding down into his view. One hundred and eighty ways to leave flashed through his mind.
His two thighs shook like a metronome.
The lead-colored eyes above fixed on him, carrying a hint of disdain, but An Qiao was oblivious. He only felt like a weak prey that had been locked onto. While repeatedly reassuring himself that he wasn’t even enough to fill the gaps between the King’s teeth, the sound outside his ears took a long time to register.
He lost control of his facial expression once again.
He opened his mouth wide, “Ah?!”
He immediately reacted, nodding quickly, “Yes, yes, yes, I will arrange it right away.”
“Yes, yes, yes…”
He left in a daze.
Yanyan watched his retreating back, frowning slightly, unsure if the other party had heard clearly.
However, the next moment, crows and sparrows flew up in the deep forest, screeching hoarsely as if calling a soul, and another male voice, close to cracking, pierced the sky along with the flapping wings of the birds.
“Hey! Hey! I need a soft mattress! ————”
“Help me! —!!”
Yanyan: “…”
Lin Yu frowned and turned over, bumping into the hard corner of the statue. He instantly woke up. He squinted at the sunlight flowing like liquid gold on the floor. The warm, brilliant sun illuminated this area thoroughly. As far as his eyes could see, the stone pillars were even more magnificent and solemn than the night before, supporting the massive palace.
“Grrr.”
Without an instrument to record time, Lin Yu could only judge the approximate time from his stomach.
He was a little hungry, but not terribly so.
The extremely poor sleeping environment left him with an aching back and waist. Lin Yu decided not to rest any further. He needed to eat and explore this place.
He propped himself up and obediently performed a Buddhist salute toward the not-so-merciful divine statue.
Buddha’s mercy.
He hoped he could find suitable food and a warm mattress today.
So he wouldn’t have to get up and exercise in the cold dew to maintain his body heat.
Lin Yu first targeted those doors. This area was completely exposed. There might be some wild fruits in the forest outside, but for Lin Yu, those wild fruits might not be edible.
He might even become dinner for some omnivorous animal.
He was deeply worried about his size.
In places where intelligent species were active, obtaining food was usually simpler.
Lin Yu approached the first door.
“…”
He looked at the tightly sealed gray-white stone material, finding almost no gap large enough for him to unceremoniously squeeze through. Lin Yu stepped back and looked up at the door, which was nearly ten times his height, feeling half-frustrated and half-unwilling.
Finally, he chose to try once. Even though preserving his physical strength was the wisest choice for him now, without any subsequent energy replenishment from food.
But food wouldn’t just come to him.
The temporary shoes he made last night were too slippery. Lin Yu, barefoot, raised his hands and pushed hard.
In the silent stillness, the door didn’t budge.
He gave a wry smile, preparing to try the second door.
Even though his inner rationality told him it wouldn’t make any difference.
The moment he released his hands, he suddenly felt the resistance in front of him tending to loosen.
Like a person who had traveled long distances suddenly seeing an oasis in the desert, Lin Yu’s heart pounded. The lost physical strength miraculously recovered a large part. As he pushed harder, a much darker line of light slowly appeared.
Following that was a soft green hue.
What met his eyes was an arched staircase. Emerald grass leaves reached over, trembling slightly, scattering white flowers all over the ground. The breeze and bird song made Lin Yu feel as if he had mistakenly entered another world.
This place actually led directly to the forest outside. Although he didn’t see any sign of food, this was good news for Lin Yu, meaning he now had an extra escape route. If he were discovered.
And he wouldn’t have to take the long way around through the main entrance.
His gaze lingered on the pile of white flowers for a while. His stomach and vision seemed to have reached some consensus, and his stomach began to rumble wildly.
And every time this continuous symphony sounded, it made him feel an even more burning hunger.
Lin Yu sighed and backed out. Before he got so hungry he couldn’t bear it, he wasn’t going to try those small flowers and grasses, lest he experience another way to die before starving to death—that would truly be worse than hell. Before starving to death, he would definitely choose to try his luck in the bustling human society again.
Without time for further melancholy, Lin Yu arrived at the second door. This one was no different from the first, though perhaps the patterns on it were slightly different.
He held almost no hope, simply raising his eyes to look.
What met his eyes was a soft, white mattress, almost as tall as he was. White, long-haired blankets were piled on the mattress, hanging down softly, like a cascading cloud.