The Foul Scent in the Villa

While finding it hard to believe, the system couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief.

Judging by the way that big dummy was trying to curry favor with the host, it estimated that as long as the host spoke up, he would definitely agree to help and even rush to resolve any trouble.

It seemed the tasks for this dungeon would be completed very soon. The only troublesome point remained maintaining the dollmaker’s persona—lonely, arrogant, haughty, and the type to “slap his own face to look fat” (putting on a brave front).

Unless something happened that completely overturned his worldviews or terrified him to his core, given the dollmaker’s character, asking his childhood friend’s partner for help or showing weakness would be worse than being slapped in public.

In the original plot, when the dollmaker realized the dolls weren’t right—that they might possess self-awareness and harbored deep resentment toward him—he felt incredibly afraid and guilty. He spared no expense, using all his money and connections to find a capable Heavenly Master in high-society circles.

There were indeed many active Heavenly Masters, as numerous as crucian carp crossing a river, but very few had real ability. Most were people seeking fame, and some were outright charlatans using the title to swindle others.

Initially, the dollmaker didn’t know these insider details and was scammed by several frauds, leaving his problems unresolved.

It wasn’t until he heard from a slightly more conscientious charlatan that there was a young Heavenly Master in their circle—someone very powerful but with an eccentric personality who rarely agreed to take jobs, though he made a fortune every time he did.

At the time, the dollmaker was very tempted. But he then heard that this master was mysterious and one had to go through his business partner to make a connection. Otherwise, no matter how much money you had, you couldn’t meet that eccentric young man.

That partner was just as mysterious as the master himself. Most people only knew he was a businessman and had no other clues, let alone the luck to have him bridge the gap.

The hope he had finally found was cut off just like that. In his frustration and rage, the dollmaker took all his anger out on his childhood friend’s partner, escalating his “death-seeking” behavior.

Fortunately, the dollmaker in the original plot never knew until the day he died that Wen Jishi’s business partner was the famous young Heavenly Master. Otherwise, he would have died of regret.

But saying all that now was meaningless.

The one currently facing the doll bosses wasn’t the dollmaker from the plot, but the timid and delicate Ye Shengge.

Ye Shengge harbored no malice toward the partner. Even when he spoke fiercely, it was solely to fit the character setting.

Besides, those words weren’t excessive; Peng Biao shouldn’t be so petty as to hold a grudge.

If it weren’t for the fact that the current plot hadn’t reached the point where the dollmaker discovers the dolls have self-awareness and seek to kill him, Ye Shengge would have loved to ask Peng Biao for help right now. He’d have him seal the doll bosses immediately so he could leave this dungeon and never encounter that elusive, perverted ghost again.

Just thinking about the ongoing harassment from that perverted ghost—who never even appeared in the original plot—made Ye Shengge feel a wave of irritation. He wished he could seal the pervert and the doll bosses together to settle his personal grudge for being toyed with.

But he was too embarrassed to mention such private, shameful things to Peng Biao. He didn’t want this big dummy, who seemed to have no guile, to know, fearing he might tell others.

Coincidentally, the plot hadn’t reached the node where the dollmaker notices the dolls’ resentment anyway.

Restricted by the persona, even if he wanted to speak, he couldn’t do so yet.

However, Ye Shengge’s silence did not make Peng Biao retreat, nor did it dampen his enthusiasm.

“I’m really not tricking you. I not only sense ‘dirty things’ here, but I sense there’s more than one,” Peng Biao explained hurriedly, thinking the youth didn’t believe him. “If you need, I can help you deal with them. I won’t charge a cent.”

This image of rushing to help exorcise evil spirits was a far cry from the eccentric, solitary, and expensive master described in the plot. He looked more like a street vendor desperately hawking his products and offering free trials to customers.

Watching this scene, the system clutched its shattered worldviews and silently retreated to the deepest part of the system space.

Although it knew one shouldn’t judge by appearances, it still couldn’t fathom why the strongest Heavenly Master NPC in this dungeon had such a total lack of “prestige” (B-grade).

Ye Shengge couldn’t retreat like the system, but his thoughts were the same. He couldn’t understand how a rough, brawny man could transform into a “Heavenly Master”—a title that usually brought to mind someone sage-like and high-minded.

Understanding aside, he still had to react according to the settings.

While suppressing the urge to let Peng Biao handle it immediately, he pretended to be haughty and unreasonable. He tilted his head back like a proud white swan: “Thank you for your ‘kindness,’ but I don’t need it. I don’t believe in such things.”

He threw out this harsh line, but internally he added a supplement, hoping Peng Biao wouldn’t take offense. He really did believe in these supernatural things and desperately wanted his “kind help” to clean up all the dirty things—whether it was the doll bosses or that perverted ghost.

However, the big dummy, upon hearing him say he didn’t believe in the supernatural, seemed to have associated it with something. He lowered his head piteously and whispered: “I understand… then I won’t say it anymore.”

Ye Shengge, who was waiting for the “cheat code” to keep talking, never expected the other party would give up on the topic of ghosts and gods just because of one ordinary line.

Fortunately, while the big dummy gave up, the childhood friend standing nearby did not. His expression grew increasingly grave.

This concerned his neighbor’s safety, so he couldn’t be bothered with petty jealousy. Frowning, he asked Peng Biao in a serious tone: “Are you telling the truth?”

In reality, what he wanted to ask was: Are you sure you didn’t just make this up to scare him?

To be honest, regarding anything touching the supernatural, Wen Jishi would rather Peng Biao had fabricated it to get closer to Shengge than for it to be actually happening.

Years ago, to build more connections, he had chosen to work with Peng Biao—who hated trouble and social interaction—for many years. How could he not understand how difficult supernatural matters were to handle?

Being targeted by “dirty things” and falling ill was considered a minor issue. To put it bluntly, those stuck with such things might not even know how they died.

Wen Jishi was terrified his neighbor would become one of those mysterious casualties.

But Peng Biao’s words caused his already sinking heart to hit rock bottom.

“How could I joke about something like this?” Peng Biao was a bit angry, his voice inadvertently getting louder. He wanted to say more to Wen Jishi, but the moment he saw the youth curled on the sofa, he immediately fell silent.

This reaction truly lived up to his earlier promise—he would absolutely not say things Ye Shengge disliked in front of him.

However, Ye Shengge, who had heard only half the conversation before it cut off, was so anxious he wanted to scratch his head. He wished this big dummy wouldn’t be so obedient.

What would it hurt to be rebellious for once and speak clearly?!

Was he that scary? He wouldn’t eat him!

Thinking of this, Ye Shengge couldn’t help but glare at the big dummy with a “hating iron for not becoming steel” look. He wished he could pry the man’s mouth open and make him finish. Stopping halfway was like a eunuch’s speech—it was maddening.

Wen Jishi frowned, his tone dissatisfied as he spoke to Peng Biao: “If you don’t want to talk, then don’t. But if you’re going to talk, speak clearly. Don’t leave things half-said.”

Peng Biao ignored him completely, refusing to open his mouth.

To him, Wen Jishi’s words carried zero weight—they weren’t even as important as one of Ye Shengge’s expressions.

So, he ignored Wen Jishi and instead looked at the exquisite boy on the sofa, waiting for him to speak.

Ye Shengge had been mentally cheering for his childhood friend, thinking the giant would finally finish his sentence. Who knew he would act like he didn’t hear a thing and shift his gaze back to him?

“Why are you looking at me? If you have something to say, just say it. I hate people who hesitate or leave things half-finished the most,” Ye Shengge snorted, secretly hoping the giant would understand the hidden meaning.

Luckily, the giant was “savable.” Upon hearing the latter half—”hate people who leave things half-finished the most”—his body stiffened, and he immediately spoke.

“Even though that dirty thing smells foul, it currently harbors no malice toward Shengge. I’ll need some time to figure out exactly what it is before I can apply the right remedy.”

Peng Biao didn’t know the boy’s full name; even “Shengge” was a name he’d overheard from Wen Jishi.

Wen Jishi was slightly displeased by the use of the name, but he could distinguish priorities. Hearing that the “dirty thing” had no immediate impact on his neighbor, he slowly relaxed his brow and asked: “How long will it take?”

“At least three days,” Peng Biao’s tone turned solemn. “This is the strongest evil spirit I have ever sensed.”

The foul smell of that dirty thing had practically spread throughout the entire villa. Unless one leaned close to the beautiful youth to catch a whiff of his enticing sweet scent, even the air felt permeated by a stench.

Wen Jishi’s expression became heavy.

For Peng Biao to call its strength “strong,” it definitely wasn’t an ordinary thing.

Sensing the sudden tension between his childhood friend and the giant, Ye Shengge’s heart rose into his throat. He asked cautiously: “Then… nothing will happen in the meantime, right?”

If something happened and alerted the doll bosses, he would be completely finished.

But the moment he finished the sentence, Ye Shengge realized he had seemingly violated the dollmaker’s persona again.

Yet, before he could frown and think of a way to smooth it over, a dull thud sounded from the direction of the second-floor bedroom.

It sounded like someone had fallen heavily to the floor.