Chapter 2: Transmigrated as a Mute Cannon Fodder

Chapter 2: Transmigrated as a Mute Cannon Fodder

Without rushing to observe his surroundings, Yi Chuan wanted to ask clearly what the conditions were for returning to the real world.

"Uh, uh..."

Broken syllables were forced out of his throat with great effort.

Good grief, how long has it been since he's had water? Yi Chuan cleared his throat and tried to speak again.

"Uh..."

Hearing this unimproved sound, Yi Chuan's eyebrows knitted into a deep frown.

Where the hell did this godforsaken system transmigrate me to!

"Answering host, this is the novel world of 'Divinity'."

The system's voice rang directly in Yi Chuan's mind.

I was careless; I almost forgot that in system novels, one communicates with the system in their mind.

"Please explain my current situation," Yi Chuan asked the system in his mind, while his throat vibrated, emitting fragmented syllables to signal to the system that his current condition was very abnormal.

"host, please explore on your own."

"..."

"Where can I file a complaint?"

Yi Chuan's teeth itched with anger, but no matter how he berated the system, the electronic voice did not respond again.

He had no choice but to turn his attention to his surroundings.

The sky was dark, and the room was somewhat dim. He was lying on a half-collapsed, peeling sofa that reeked of rot. Large patches of wallpaper had fallen off, and black mold crawled up from the base of the walls.

The sliding glass window had lost its complete outline, and jagged glass fragments were embedded in the rust-stained window frame like canine teeth.

Outside the broken window was a deathly silent street, with the skeletons of abandoned buildings in the distance hidden in the mist. Occasional low grunts came from unseen shadows, and the sound of fabric rubbing against the ground made Yi Chuan's skin crawl.

It looked like he was currently in a residential building, and on a fairly high floor.

Most of the furniture in the room lay on the floor, rotted and deformed. On the floor, there were also unidentifiable whitish fatty substances and animal bones.

Yi Chuan struggled to identify things in the dim light; they appeared to be human hand and thigh bones. His pupils shrank, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Yi Chuan suspected that it wasn't just the sofa that smelled of rot; the entire living room must be filled with a sickening odor.

He wanted to vomit, but his empty stomach wasn't enough to let him throw anything up; only stomach acid surged in his throat.

Enduring a sense of dizziness similar to taking a long-distance bus through continuous curves, he propped himself up on the sofa to sit up, wanting to figure out what the situation was.

Not yet fully adapted to this new body, Yi Chuan's movements were somewhat stiff.

He had only raised his upper body halfway when a large chunk of memory that didn't belong to him was suddenly stuffed into his mind. The feeling of brain overload made the veins on his temples bulge, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.

Isn't the delay on this memory infusion a bit too high!

While his head throbbed to the point of dazed consciousness, Yi Chuan quickly used his hands to brace against the edge of the sofa, barely stabilizing himself.

This mass of memory told him that the original body only possessed memories from age seven onwards. He was an orphan, a Mute, and had no name. He had grown up scrambling for food in various slums, living hand to mouth.

Until two years ago, when he encountered a civilian Core Hunting Squad. The captain saw that he was a Mute and easy to order around, so he took him into the team.

Because he couldn't speak, everyone else saved themselves the trouble and simply called him Mute. All the odd jobs in the team were given to him. Sometimes, to hunt for zombie crystal cores, they even made him act as bait to attract zombies. Fortunately, he had survived every time by luck, and they hadn't mistreated him regarding food.

Even excluding the seven-year blank, there were still thirteen years of memories. Yi Chuan only hurriedly got a general understanding of Mute's life before his head was already exhausted to the point of going blank.

By the time the dizziness finally subsided, a sense of powerlessness uncontrollably rose up.

He seemed to know who this unlucky fellow was.

Just then, a series of very light footsteps broke the surrounding silence.

Yi Chuan shook his somewhat groggy head and looked up toward the source of the sound.

The sofa was diagonally opposite the main door. The door panel had long since disappeared, and from his seated position, he could look directly into the pitch-black hallway.

A black high-top tactical boot stepped over the threshold, stained with white pulp and dark smudges.

Moonlight spilled through the broken window, and the next second, what entered Yi Chuan's sight was a head of neat, silver-white short hair.

Seeing this hair color, Yi Chuan couldn't help but secretly complain—where did this punk come from?

But the next second, he froze.

His gaze collided directly with the newcomer's eyes.

Those were a pair of soul-stirring black eyes, as dark as ink-jade soaked in a cold pool, making his snow-white skin stand out even more.

Moonlight fell on his thick, long eyelashes, casting delicate shadows.

The youth had a slender build, and his frame stretched out gracefully as he moved, like a newly sprouted tree. He wasn't cold and hard like an adult man, but instead had a bit of lingering youthful greenness.

The moment he made eye contact with Yi Chuan, his eyelashes fluttered imperceptibly. The aloof, cold aura that warned others to stay away vanished instantly, replaced by a clean smile unique to a young person.

This smile reflected in Yi Chuan's eyes, and he was momentarily dazed.

At this moment, Yi Chuan finally understood that there really was a world of difference between the mud splatters and the favored children in Nüwa's hands.

Yi Chuan could at least be considered handsome, and he'd been approached a fair few times on campus. But seeing this person, even he, who was usually stubborn, had to admit this brother was truly damn handsome.

It was already obvious who the newcomer was. With that signature silver hair and perfect bone structure, Yi Chuan couldn't think of anyone else in this novel besides the Male Protagonist who would have such looks that even men would find beautiful.

But do you think I'm going to praise you, Author?

Yi Chuan felt a pang of heartache. Why did the damn Author set up the overpowered Male Protagonist to be so stunning? It didn't fit the image of a mighty Male Protagonist he had in mind at all.

This face should appear at a confession scene in a school novel, not show up in the apocalypse holding a blood-stained knife, okay!

His previous guess was correct; he had indeed transmigrated as that Mute cannon fodder in 'Divinity' who bossed the Male Protagonist around and was killed by him after being used.

Although the Male Protagonist was smiling harmlessly now, Yi Chuan, who held the script, wouldn't be fooled by him.

He instinctively stood up. He had to change the Male Protagonist's previous impression of Mute, cling to the Male Protagonist's thigh, and avoid the ending of being cannon fodder.

Just as he stood still and before he could do anything, the cold electronic voice rang out again.

"Congratulations to the true-fan host for successfully meeting the protagonist. The conditions required to return to the real world are now provided."

"The host needs to obtain 100 disgust value from the protagonist Ning Fu Yi to be able to leave this world."

"Current Disgust Point index is 40. Keep it up, host."

"..." Godforsaken system. It doesn't speak when it should, and insists on making its presence known when it shouldn't.

Doesn't this just warn him that if he wants to go home, he can't cling to the guy's thigh?

Looking at the 'thigh' right in front of him, Yi Chuan's flattering smile froze on his lips. Just as he was at a loss, his body reacted on its own; frowning and rolling his eyes in one smooth motion, the change in expression so fast his face almost twitched.

His heart was bleeding. The system was dead set on sending him down a dead-end road.

Ning Fu Yi seemed accustomed to Mute's arrogant appearance. His smile remained unchanged as he walked into the living room, casually wiped the small knife dripping with thick black liquid, and slid it back into the leather sheath on the outside of his thigh.

His boots made dull "thud-thud" sounds on the curled wooden floor, and he didn't stop until he was two steps in front of Mute.

It wasn't apparent from a distance, but as Yi Chuan tilted his head slightly, he realized upon closer inspection that Ning Fu Yi was more than half a head taller than Mute.

Slender fingers encased in black leather gloves unzipped a pocket and pulled out a palm-sized gray block-shaped object.

Ning Fu Yi held it out in front of Mute.

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