197: Chapter 193 The Riddler Deserves to Die
But he wasn't bitten.
He tumbled onto the grass outside the fence, rolled over, scrambled up, and ran. The hen in his arms was still flapping frantically, covering his face in feathers.
Behind him, the big yellow dog barked incessantly from behind the fence—but it couldn't get out.
Zhou Liang ran twenty meters before stopping.
He turned around, faced the furious big yellow dog inside the fence, and slowly raised his pinky finger.
Then, he teleported back to his own farm.
He had the chicken.
Zhou Liang squatted in his simple yard, looking at the fat hen in his arms that had finally calmed down, grinning from ear to ear.
He spent ten minutes building a makeshift chicken coop to settle his spoils. The hen circled the new nest twice before reluctantly settling down.
Satisfied.
Zhou Liang lay back on the bed in the thatched hut and selected exit.
The white light dissipated, and his consciousness returned to reality.
Back in the cabin.
Zhou Liang subconsciously glanced at his life ring.
20:24.
He clearly remembered it being nineteen minutes past when he entered.
He had spent at least ten minutes building the chicken coop in the Farm Realm, plus five minutes stealing the chicken, and the bits of time spent running around—a conservative estimate of twenty minutes.
Yet only a little over four minutes had passed outside.
A little over four minutes.
Zhou Liang stared at the time on the life ring, his eyes wide.
The first time, four-plus hours versus half an hour, he could barely attribute to a "display error" or his own warped sense of time.
But this time—
Twenty minutes versus four minutes.
This wasn't a display error in the game time.
It was a real difference in the perceived flow of time.
Time in the Farm Realm was slower than outside.
Much slower.
A difference of about five times.
Holy crap!
Is this for real?
Is this even possible?
Zhou Liang's eyes widened, his mouth agape.
Zhou Liang sat on the bedsheets, hugging his knees, his mind turning this conclusion over and over.
He wasn't a smart man; before his Transmigration, he ran a small noodle shop in Shanghai, and the most complex math he did was calculating daily revenue.
But anyone could feel a time difference of this magnitude.
The Fate Master is truly the Fate Master; whatever game he creates is either virtual reality or has time dilation.
He suddenly recalled everyone's speculation about the golden figure during the day.
Wasn't that flashback scene likely related to time?
So, did this prove that the golden figure was the Fate Master?
A surge of excitement welled up in him, and he wanted to share this information with everyone on the Fate Platform.
Plus, having just played such a good game, he was incredibly hyped and wanted to share it on the Fate Platform so everyone could farm and steal vegetables together.
He believed that this was a game everyone would like.
Because he knew that not a single Earth Star Survivor who came to the Magic Sea didn't miss the grass, forests, trees, and houses.
He had considered that perhaps the Fate Master launched this Farm Realm game quietly without any notice, and the entry interface was not only hidden but required three clicks... was it because he wanted to keep it low-key?
Should he not post about it to tell everyone?
But immediately after, he reasoned that since the Fate Master launched it and hadn't marked any warnings not to tell others in the game...
And this Farm Realm clearly looked like a large multiplayer game, meant to be played by many people.
The Fate Master might have launched it quietly just as a prank, wanting to give them a surprise.
But the next moment, he couldn't wait to edit a post to release in the Human Intelligence Realm, but after clicking the publish button, a pop-up window appeared.
"Dear user, your post contains censored words. Please delete them and try to transmit again."
——
Thousands of kilometers away.
In the living room of the Yang family's Silver Grade luxury Houseboat, the lights were soft.
Yang Hang sat cross-legged on the sofa, with the projection screen he brought playing some old movies from before his Transmigration.
Mother leaned on Father Yang Jianguo's shoulder, watching intently, while Yang Yue curled up on the other end of the sofa, hugging a cushion.
The family of four watched the movie quietly.
Then, in Yang Hang's consciousness, he received a notification from his Farm Realm on the Fate Platform.
[Your farm has been invaded.]
And a few dozen seconds later.
The message [Hen × 1. The intruder has fled.] popped up again.
Yang Hang's mouth twitched.
He—the dignified Lord of the Fate Altar, holder of the Lord of Causality talent, top of the personal merit ranking, the existence honored by 3.6 billion people as the Fate Master—
had been stolen from, a chicken.
He really wanted to intervene, but looking at his parents and little sister beside him, he thought better of it and let his precious, raised hen get stolen.
"Tsk."
Yang Yue's gaze turned over instantly: "Brother, what are you tsking at?"
"Nothing." Yang Hang waved his hand, controlling his expression, "Just thought of something happy."
"Whatever." Yang Yue rolled her eyes at him, "If you won't say, then don't."
She turned her face back to the screen and continued staring at the movie.
Yang Hang also looked back at the screen.
But the slight arc at the corner of his mouth just wouldn't go away.
Interesting.
Stolen is stolen, I suppose.
After all, a farm game where you don't get your crops stolen isn't a complete farm game.
He could just steal his hen back later.
Besides, someone had found the Farm Realm so quickly. Quite bold, stealing his Big Flower right off the bat.
He had just specifically let his Divided Soul confirm that it was his egg-laying hen, Big Flower, that had been stolen.
But that also meant he had someone to play with.
And there would probably be more and more.
The evening breeze slipped in through the cracks in the Houseboat's portholes, carrying the distinct salty, fishy scent of the Magic Sea.
The movie was still playing. Father watched in silence. Mother leaned on Father's shoulder, her eyelids already fighting to stay open. Little sister was curled up on the sofa, the cushion about to slide off.
Yang Hang withdrew his thoughts, stood up, and tucked the slipping cushion back into Yang Yue's arms.
The next day at noon, Yang Hang returned to his Houseboat. He didn't open the treasure chest for now, but instead used the Vector Manipulation directional Ability Crystal.
Then, he used the Power of Causality to manifest the three knowledge-based analysis books—Introduction, Continuation, and Transition—of Thermal Energy Analysis, which he would fully master in the future, into reality.
He spent ten minutes entering the Farm Realm to teach his Big Yellow a lesson, got another Big Yellow to guard the backyard of his farm, and then stole back the Big Flower he had carefully raised.
Fortunately, the farm of the Survivor who stole his chicken wasn't in a closed state at the time; otherwise, it would have been a bit troublesome, and he would have had to find time to steal it back later.
After handling all this, Yang Hang exited the Farm Realm, left the affairs of the Fate Platform to be monitored by his Divided Soul, took out the main body of the Sleeping Pendulum from the Fate Platform, set up a program for it to automatically charge and wind itself using the Power of Causality, and then went into seclusion to study the rules of energy talents.
Time passed without count. While Yang Hang was comprehending the rules of energy, even though the Farm Realm had hidden entry methods and posting restrictions on the Fate Platform set by Yang Hang, more and more Survivors discovered this Farm Realm game.
Light spots dotted the map of the Farm Realm one after another, and the chat atmosphere on the Fate Platform gradually became filled with hesitation and a tendency to act like riddlers.
This left countless Yanhuang Survivors and Survivors from other civilizations who hadn't discovered the Farm Realm completely baffled.
Many short-tempered Survivors posted irritably in the Symphony Realm, accusing the group of not speaking clearly, being mysterious, and inexplicably exuding a sense of superiority in their words. "If you don't want to talk, don't. Don't be annoying here. Riddlers deserve to die."