This egg was incredibly flashy. A rough count revealed about twenty different colors, as chaotic as a child's doodle.
She poked the egg, and a naming prompt popped up on the screen.
[Please name your cub or lover.]
"Since it said 'cub,' then I'll just call it Ah Zai," she muttered.
The game's premise was so absurd she didn't even know where to begin complaining.
She wasn't a fictosexual. There was no way she would treat a 2D character in an app as a companion, much less a lover.
Raising a cub that doubled as a lover? Didn't that amount to raising a child just to groom them for yourself?
Too hardcore.
_(:з」∠)_
[Naming successful.]
After the System notification ended, two small characters appeared above the egg's head—
[Ah Zai]
Pei Ye explored the functions of the various buttons until the System prompted her to create an ID for her account.
After a moment of thought, the ID [Your father] was gloriously born.
If the egg was equipped with a title, the text above its head would become [Your father's Ah Zai].
She tapped on various icons, studying their functions.
"They actually had the nerve to release such a crude game? It wouldn't even make a splash on the market..."
Ever since Pei Ye retired from the Federation Military Department, she had been hopelessly addicted to gaming. She dabbled in almost everything: action, adventure, simulation, RPGs, and casual games. Most of her time was spent on popular pay-to-win (or rather, cash-grab) games. She had tried a few raising simulators too, but usually dropped them once she figured out their formula.
Judging by her standards, this raising simulator app was far too crude.
It really didn't spark any urge to spend money.
"How do I level this thing up?"
After fumbling around for a bit, Pei Ye noticed a progress bar labeled "Merit" above the egg.
"Merit" was equivalent to experience points in a regular game. Currently, there were no microtransaction options, meaning she had to rely purely on grinding.
"According to the standard formula for raising simulators, this is the part where they should introduce a 'one-dollar purchase' or a 'six-dollar SR skin' to bait players into spending..."
Starting with "$1" and "$6," they would gradually build up to $98, $188, $348, and $648.
_(:з」∠)_
Even someone like Pei Ye had been tricked by game developers into dropping tens of thousands.
Raising simulators either demanded money or endless grinding. A game that demanded both was just shameless.
Right now, she had nothing but an abundance of free time. She was practically built for grinding, so spending money wasn't worth it.
"How much Merit does it take to hatch? Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands... One thousand Merit? That doesn't seem like much..."
Pei Ye tapped wildly for a moment and discovered that the beginner's tutorial she had just skipped contained important clues.
She quickly pulled the tutorial back up for a closer look.
A piece of parchment unrolled in the center of the screen. The text at the beginning was legible enough, but the later parts were marred by ink stains, leaving the words fragmented.
[Hundreds of thousands of years ago, nature's spiritual energy was abundant. Though there was friction between Immortals, Humans, Demons, and Devils, the world was generally at peace.]
[In the Human World, there existed a vast continent home to hundreds of nations. Among them was a small country with a population of less than a million, named "Tan Chang".]
Ink splatters followed these two sentences, obscuring several lines of text.
[... years later, the Empress of Tanchang Country gave birth to... and named him '... Su'...]
After that came another large ink stain. Pei Ye could only barely make out a few words.
Piecing the context together, it seemed this Prince named "Su" had encountered some tragedy. Her guess was that Tan Chang had been conquered by someone. After the nation's fall, "Su" must have turned evil and committed atrocities that sparked mass outrage. Finally, the Heavenly Dao grew furious and cast down an Evil Curse. Unless "Su" paid off his countless karmic debts, he would never find salvation for all eternity.
In the end, Su's soul transformed into this egg.
The player needed to hatch the egg and accompany Su to earn Merit and Qi Fortune, helping him awaken.
After reading this, Pei Ye only had one thought—
"What a shoddily produced game background!"
It was an incredibly generic setting; she could easily search online and find a pile of identical free stock assets.
Having figured out the egg's lore, Pei Ye began researching how to run dungeons to earn Merit.
Even though her friend was a scammer, since she had already promised it she would help raise the cub, she might as well. She had nothing better to do anyway.
Being addicted to online games or addicted to raising simulators made no difference—either way, it killed time.
The dungeon entrance, however, was very easy to find.
In the top right corner of the screen was an ostentatious skull-shaped button with the word "Dungeon" written on it.
Clicking it brought up another long scroll of parchment on the screen. The parchment looked old, its edges tinted a yellowish-brown.
Except for the first dungeon, which was lit up, all the others were locked with gray icons, rendering them inaccessible.
She had no choice but to click on the introduction for the topmost dungeon.
One look at it almost blinded her.
[Why did the septuagenarian grandma die tragically in the streets? Why do hundreds of sows scream into the night? Why are the convenience store's condoms constantly targeted? Why do panties frequently go missing from the girls' dormitory? What hidden secrets lie behind the stolen dorm bedsheets? And who is responsible for deflowering the pretty young boy? Behind all of this!!! Is it a distortion of human nature or the degradation of morality? Please stay tuned to this dungeon channel and let [Your father] lead us into the hearts of Demons and Ghosts, to explore an unknown world...]
Curiosity had made her click it; her survival instinct made her want to close the interface immediately.
"What kind of garbage is this?"
(╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
Pei Ye felt an angry sensation, as if her friend had just dragged her IQ through the mud.
She wanted to uninstall the game, but this trashy game was cursed—the interface actually lagged at that exact moment, and her hand slipped, clicking on [Enter Dungeon].
"Are you kidding me?"
She didn't believe for a second that her Intelligent Brain would lag running a simple app, unless someone was secretly messing with it.
For example, the creator of this app.
As Pei Ye locked onto a suspect, several prompts popped up in succession on the screen.
[Preparing to enter the dungeon. Player, please get ready.]
[Countdown: 3...]
[Countdown: 2...]
[Countdown: 1...]
[Entering dungeon!]
[We wish you a happy game!]
A pleasant game chime rang out. Before Pei Ye could react, her vision suddenly went black, and she lost consciousness entirely.
Just before passing out, she faintly heard her friend's mocking laughter.
[The Heavenly Brain reserves all rights to final interpretation!]
[Come hit me if you're mad about it!]