Chapter 302: Jealousy Makes Us All Ugly!
“Another lord?” muttered Kim Jeong-ki, the Chosen One from South Korea.
He remembered that whenever a lord appeared, a horn would sound. This was already the second blast he’d heard. Right now, he was familiarizing himself with this unfamiliar environment, following the same approach he’d used back at the villa. He’d also found a guide—a palace maid—who was introducing him to the different areas.
As a royal palace, the architecture was naturally much grander than the villa the Chosen Ones had experienced before. Entering through the main gate and passing through the corridor led to the auxiliary building, which served as the guest reception area—and also where the Chosen Ones had just been resting. Next to the auxiliary building were stables, kitchens, and the like. If guests had any dining needs, they could come to these places.
The outer perimeter of the palace featured defensive structures such as city walls and watchtowers. At the edges of these areas, Kim Jeong-ki could hear the sound of crashing waves. He made a mental note of this detail, because if something went wrong later, he’d be in a blind state and could use these subtle cues to determine his location—since the sound of the waves wouldn’t reach the inner palace.
As a veteran who’d made it this far, he clearly had some skills.
In this round, the British transcendent, Earl Campbell, actually had a huge advantage. He was very familiar with palace layouts, just as he’d been able to find things at the villa that others had missed. Unfortunately, his overconfidence had gotten him killed.
British viewers all felt it was a pity—if Campbell had made it to this round, he’d almost certainly have secured an S-rank or higher settlement, with a good chance of pushing for SSSSS. But there were no more “what-ifs.”
This was also why ordinary Chosen Ones had an edge in the urban legend world. They were meticulous and cautious. Kim Jeong-ki had never been highly rated by anyone, yet he’d survived all the way to the present.
After exploring the outer areas, Kim Jeong-ki moved on to other parts. The center of the palace usually housed a large garden—if you stayed near it, you could catch the scent of flowers. The Chosen Ones all had keen noses, so this could also serve as a navigational cue. It seemed many of them had already fully adapted to their blindness, walking much faster now.
Flanking the garden were two long wing buildings, which served as connecting passages between the auxiliary building and the main building. The main building was naturally where the royal family rested and worked. Without the king’s permission, guests couldn’t enter the main building, and the wing buildings were guarded by sentries.
The Chosen Ones were frantically memorizing the guards’ approximate positions. Even Kim Jeong-ki understood that the rule forbidding combat in the palace was likely meant to protect the Chosen Ones. So if he offended another guest, he’d need to stay active near the wing buildings or wherever guards were present—that way, those guests couldn’t harm him.
That was a last resort, though. Most Chosen Ones were too timid to stir up trouble anyway.
After circling back to the auxiliary building, Kim Jeong-ki took note: the building was tall and housed banquet halls, ballrooms, exhibition halls, and the like—the main areas where guests would be active. Tonight’s banquet would be held here, and apparently the king would attend.
Through his conversation with the maid, Kim Jeong-ki gathered that the people here didn’t seem to know the king would be disguised among them tonight.
“Maybe the king knows someone wants to kill him, which is why he’s doing this?” Kim speculated internally. It seemed perfectly plausible. After all, in a place like this, there were far too many people who wanted the king dead. The rules seemed to hint at exactly that.
While walking through the auxiliary building, Kim Jeong-ki felt an oppressive dampness. The air was humid and carried a strange odor. In certain sections, he could even hear a faint drip-drop of water.
But when he asked the maid about it, she said she heard nothing. He didn’t press further—he’d ask his demon servants later, in a private spot. He couldn’t understand why the palace was so damp without any measures to dry it out.
After touring the auxiliary building, Kim Jeong-ki dismissed the maid so he could walk alone.
When his guide dog noticed him swallow and lick his lips, it knew its master was about to start his “simping routine” again. Back at the villa, every time Kim Jeong-ki went to grovel before other guests, he’d make that same gesture—the dog had seen it many times.
What could he do? It was an occupational hazard for Chosen Ones—sucking up was just part of the job. By buttering up NPCs, he could extract useful intel, and that intel would help predict future dangers. Kim Jeong-ki refused to believe that this eerie castle was hosting nothing more than a simple birthday banquet.
And Kim wasn’t the only one—the Chosen Ones all shared a special sense of timing. After their tour, it was roughly 4 p.m., meaning they had four hours until the 8 p.m. banquet start. Would the urban legend world really give them four hours of idle leisure time? Definitely not. Those four hours were clearly meant for the Chosen Ones to explore quickly and gather life-saving intel. The fact that they were given that much time meant the danger level was still high—otherwise they wouldn’t have been so generous.
With that thought, many Chosen Ones sprang into action.
Kim Jeong-ki recalled one particular rule:
[Rule 8: Everyone here enjoys being praised, but be very careful not to say the wrong thing.]
This rule was essentially telling the Chosen Ones not to offend anyone and to flatter them properly.
Kim began mentally retracing the places he’d passed. Whether it was the garden, the corridors, the wing buildings, or the exhibition halls, there were small groups of people chatting everywhere. Judging by their voices, they came from all walks of life—but near some of them, Kim caught a foul, fishy stench, like deep-sea creatures.
According to the maid, these were the nobles.
What exactly these “nobles” looked like, the Chosen Ones couldn’t see—but the viewers could. These beings looked like deep-sea horrors: nobles with octopus heads, their tentacles constantly writhing as they spoke—slimy and eerie. If you got caught by them, you’d likely be strangled on the spot. There were also monsters with gaping mouths like frog heads. These were the so-called “nobles” of this urban legend world.
At this point, the viewers could pretty much guess that the nobles of this kingdom were creatures from the deep sea—and that the king himself was probably a terrifying monster too.
But the Chosen Ones weren’t entirely clueless either; they’d just gathered more intel. For instance, Kim Jeong-ki had learned some “seemingly useless at the time” info by sucking up to the gravelly-voiced old man. In this world, many people gained power by sacrificing things to certain powerful beings. The Chosen Ones, for example, sacrificed their lifespan to summon loyal demons from hell. Many of the nobles had probably sacrificed things to deep-sea leviathans in exchange for power, which explained their grotesque appearances. The same went for the skeleton knights—they too had traded for their abilities. And then these people used their acquired power to seize wealth, status, and the like.
“If that’s the case, then the king of this castle might very well be some sort of deep-sea entity—why else would the palace be so damp?” Kim Jeong-ki suddenly thought.
But he quickly dismissed his own idea. “No—that’s only the auxiliary building I know is damp. I haven’t seen the main building yet. I can’t jump to conclusions.”
So he decided to keep gathering intel instead.
Along the way, Kim Jeong-ki had committed many people’s “scents” to memory. When passing skeleton knights, he sensed a certain heat radiating from them. When near magicians, he picked up the smell of birds and beasts. When greeting merchants, he caught a musty odor—they seemed to handle antiques, calligraphy, and paintings often, making their scent distinctive. As for the nobles, they all carried that fishy smell.
And finally, the lords—none of the Chosen Ones had made contact with them yet. It seemed the reception for lords was on a much higher level, and ordinary guests couldn’t even see them.
The rule said everyone here liked to be praised but you mustn’t say the wrong thing—which gave the viewers a headache. How were you supposed to know which people liked to hear what? What if you said the wrong thing?
But the Chosen Ones had experience. Especially veteran simps like Kim Jeong-ki—he knew exactly where to start: the exhibition hall!
The exhibition hall displayed many valuable paintings and a few weapon collections. Kim had spent days groveling in the villa’s gallery and armory, so while he might not know how to flatter people from other walks of life, he did know what these people wanted to hear. They were admiring paintings and examining weapons—clearly they had an interest in these things. So he just needed to play to that interest and say what they liked.
That’s what you call applying what you’ve learned—he’d picked up a lot during those days at the villa.
After selecting his target, Kim began his sycophantic routine.
Some Chosen Ones were even more meticulous than Kim. For example, Ramirez from Argentina, after some exploration, had already started mapping out the palace’s defenses: guards on the walls, plus at the main gate, stables, kitchens, and wing buildings. A few maids would appear on the ground floor of the auxiliary building.
According to Ramirez’s assessment, aside from those spots, everywhere else was dangerous—places where you could be killed or where you could kill others.
By around 5 p.m., the viewers could see that most of the Chosen Ones were hanging around the exhibition hall—it was the only familiar ground they had.
Even there, though, the Chosen Ones had to keep a low profile and avoid drawing hostility. If they still had their A-rank demons, they could consider not summoning more—but most people with A-rank demons chose to add more anyway. Only someone like Sidney, a relatively capable transcendent, opted to wait and see for now.
While Ramirez ingratiated himself with other guests, he also kept an eye out for easy targets—people he could lure to his room, kill, and use to summon more demons. Guests weren’t just sources of intel; they could also drop useful items. Besides those with special identities, there were also guests with weaker combat abilities. But these types either had attendants or pets with them, which made it difficult for Ramirez to strike. Finding a viable target was really tough.
After about an hour of mingling, Ramirez finally found a young male guest. Through conversation, he learned the man had come alone, and his guide dog showed no fear of him. So Ramirez chatted with him for a while—the guest was fascinated by the paintings and very impressed by Ramirez’s “erudition.” Once their rapport was solid enough, Ramirez invited him to his room, claiming he had something even better to show that wasn’t convenient to display out in the open.
The male guest followed him to the room. The moment the door closed, Ramirez had his demon bring over some “prepared” water. He’d been cunning about it—they’d been talking for a long time, so they were both thirsty. By pretending to be parched himself, he naturally had the demon serve the poisoned water. The poison was something he’d obtained from the head chef back at the villa. Most Chosen Ones carried poisons and contaminated water on them as standard gear, except Zhang Yangqing—he simply didn’t need them.
At this stage, most Chosen Ones used similar tactics. Those with A-rank demons would boldly kill outright; those without played it safe with poison or contamination.
After the male guest was poisoned, his combat ability dropped significantly. Then the guide dog delivered the killing blow. The man gave Ramirez a cursed glare of resentment before collapsing to the ground. Since the Chosen Ones were blind in this round, they couldn’t see much, which lessened the guilt—but they could still hear the dying curses of the victim, and many felt a twinge of guilt.
After all, they had no personal grudge against these natives. But if they didn’t kill, they might be the ones to die. So the Chosen Ones chose to act decisively.
After summoning his Key Demon, Ramirez began his gacha draw. Unsurprisingly, a B-rank demon appeared before him. The pull rate nearly made him curse out loud. Even though he’d been prepared, getting such poor luck still tested his composure.
“Oh well, something’s better than nothing,” he muttered to himself, comforting his aching heart before resuming his simping ways.
Once he had enough demons, he’d start approaching the identities mentioned in the rules.
And that’s how the urban legend world worked—some people had bad luck, others had good luck. The South Korean Chosen One had a massive stroke of luck this round, summoning an S-rank demon outright.
On the big screen in South Korea, a demon with overwhelming aura appeared. His posture was tall and elegant, and unlike other demons, his eyes held an extra glimmer of intelligence. The South Korean Chosen One was nearly moved to tears. He hadn’t even been aiming for an S-rank rating—he just wanted out. But with this, he might actually consider pushing for SSSS.
Through prior testing, the Chosen Ones had learned that demons were absolutely loyal and trustworthy. After a brief exchange with his demon, the South Korean Chosen One had a general plan. The demon said, “Don’t worry, master. I will definitely find the king for you and secure your fiefdom.”
This S-rank demon radiated boundless confidence. As a highly intelligent being, he wasn’t like the A-rank and below demons that were mere puppets following orders. Once he had some intel, he’d formulate his own plans. His power made him supremely self-assured—he felt there was no problem he couldn’t solve. Those stronger than him weren’t as smart; those smarter weren’t as strong. Which Chosen One had the luck to summon him? They’d have to treat him like royalty!
Meanwhile, the South Korean Chosen One was already feeding him well and asking him to do all the heavy thinking because his own brain wasn’t enough.
If Zhang Yangqing’s two S-rank demons knew about this, they’d definitely say, “Bro, don’t act so high and mighty. Why don’t you come over here and try us on for size? We’re out here playing the role of good dogs, and you’re acting like a big shot.”
But being a dog had its perks—something this guy clearly didn’t understand.
Seeing a Chosen One with such insane luck made many viewers green with envy. In the world chat, someone had posted a screenshot, and the chat had erupted into arguments.
“Why?! Our country pulled two B-ranks, and South Korea pulls an S right away?! How is this fair? I demand they downgrade to C!” (IP: South Korea)
“Can’t the urban legend world have a pity system?! It’s pure RNG! Why?!” (IP: Turban Country)
“If only we’d sent Jones this round—that guy lives off luck.” (IP: Kangaroo Country)
“Who knew this round was all about luck? I should’ve gone! Not to brag, but I’m a fortune-teller.” (IP: Eagle Country)
“So many people are so ignorant. Luck is just one part of surviving an urban legend. Why don’t you go up there next time!” (IP: Matador Country)
“What’s the big deal? Give me an S-rank demon and I bet I could easily clear four S’s too.” (IP: Ah-San Country)
The international chat room was on fire, all because South Korea’s Chosen One had summoned an S-rank, and everyone’s dissatisfaction was boiling over.
Viewers from other countries were also puzzled—why didn’t anyone have a problem when the Dragon Kingdom Celestial Master summoned two S-ranks? Why all the outrage over South Korea getting just one?
The answer was unanimous: when it came to the Dragon Kingdom Celestial Master, you could give him ten SS-rank demons and no one would bat an eye. That guy didn’t rely on demons to clear the game anyway. For a top-tier Chosen One like him, demons were just helpers—no one would complain. They didn’t boost his capabilities that much anyway, just made his perfect runs smoother and more flawless. Basically no one thought the Celestial Master would be unable to clear the round without his two S-rank demons. In fact, his brilliant plays along the way had already won over countless viewers. Whether he had S-rank demons or not didn’t really matter to him.
But it was different for the South Korean Chosen One—he was an ordinary person who hadn’t even learned any transcendent abilities. An S-rank demon was a massive game-changer for him. That’s what made viewers from other countries green with envy, twisted beyond recognition.
And even Zhang Yangqing’s side wasn’t all smooth sailing—the stronger the team, the more attention they attracted.
