Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 50

Chapter 50: The Blind Widower in the Infinite Game (17)

---

Wind swept from the deep night and slammed against the cliff, waves crashing against the lighthouse tower, shattering the quiet of night into fragments.

 

The osprey fluttered restlessly in such weather, circling inside the living quarters with sharp screeches from its hooked beak.

 

Leather stationery, ink bottles, and notepaper stamped with monogrammed initials were spread across the desk.


Among them was a small piece of crumpled paper, creased and worn. It had once been rolled up and tied, carried from one end of the island to the other by the scout osprey and brought back to the lighthouse.

 

The handwriting was shaky, clearly not from the young second-generation lighthouse keeper.


There were marks from the morning dew of the western mountain—soaked and dried.

 

“July 16th, Night. Diesel engine malfunction.”

 

A note like this meant that during the day, the lighthouse keeper didn’t need to clean the lens or refill diesel. He only had to wait for the next day to arrive and then repair the storm damage left behind overnight.

 

The lighthouse keeper silently tossed the note into the flame of the wick, letting it burn to ash. The remaining ashes were dumped into the iron box at the bottom of the duty room’s desk.

 

It was the iron box left behind by the previous keeper.


The ashes mingled, indistinguishable from one another.

 

Main hall of the shrine, underground archive room.

 

There were no windows. The door was tightly locked. Smoke filled the space. Flames devoured the scrolls on the shelves with loud crackling, licking the ceiling and turning it black with soot.

 

The old priest’s clouded eyes could no longer open from the smoke. He coughed violently, as if his lungs would burst, yet still laughed in a hoarse whisper.

 

He had lived a life of clarity, and now his eldest son had done something like this. If this came to light, how could he face the islanders?

 

More importantly, since Shen Yi was the little boat bride, and the waves receding meant the sea god had rejected her, and if Zhang Ping had truly defiled her through manipulation—it made a world of difference.

 

On Thousand Smoke Island, there was no room for anyone who disrespected the sea god.

 

The best course of action—for the sake of Thousand Smoke Island’s future—was to let the gods vent their wrath.

 

When the flames began consuming his robes, the air filled with the stench of burning flesh.


His eyelids lifted slightly, revealing pale, ashen eyes.

 

In the smoke and fire, it was as if the old priest had returned to the swaying fishing boat of his childhood, catching a glimpse of stormy shores and giant, black-red tentacles waving in the sky, building up power to overturn mountains and seas.

 

With utter reverence for divine power in his heart, he passed away in the fire.

 

*

 

In the storm, towering waves smashed against the ship’s bow. Dark, massive swells lifted the broken Thousand Smoke high into the air, only to send it crashing down again onto the churning sea.

 

The water on deck had risen so high that even with all the crew constantly bailing, it was hopeless.


Seawater gushed in through the rivet holes at the hull’s bottom, the breaches growing larger by the minute.

 

Even with his ears covered, Shui Que couldn’t block out the ocean’s insane murmuring.

 

“Quiet down!” he had to raise his voice, struggling within the tentacle’s grip to try and snap the sea monster back to reason.

 

But it was no use.


Whatever sanity it had left disintegrated completely the moment it caught the faint scent of blood in the air.

 

The headless men targeted the living. One of them crawled up from the trembling floor of the ship, staggering with his axe toward the tentacles cocooning Shui Que.

 

A second massive limb easily intercepted him midway.


The axe flew from his hand, crashing to the floor behind him. The tentacle coiled tightly around him like a hunting crocodile or boa constrictor, twisting until the headless man was crushed. Then it flung the corpse into a rusted iron shelf in the storage room.

 

Its strength was so immense that entire rows of white wooden crates and shelves collapsed like dominoes.

 

This level of the ship could no longer contain the expanding limbs.


They writhed toward the staircase to the upper deck, leaving water trails behind. Where they passed, the iron steps twisted out of shape, white paint flaked off in sheets, and the porthole glass shattered in an instant, sending shards flying everywhere.

 

Seawater poured into the swaying freighter from all directions.

 

“Launch the lifeboats!”


“Everyone, get to the deck!”

 

Shui Que heard them shouting.


The more he struggled, the more the sea monster thought he was trying to escape, tightening its grip.

 

His breathing grew labored.


The ship was more than halfway submerged now. The tentacles snaked up to the deck’s entrance. Thousand Smoke was disintegrating from within.

 

A steel cable wound around an iron post snapped. The people on deck immediately flattened themselves. With a thunderous crack, the tension in the cable released and it snapped across the deck, gouging a deep crater before curling into a semicircle.

 

If it had struck a person, their flesh would have been torn open on the spot.

 

Li Jianshan had Yuan Yu’s arm slung over his shoulder. Yuan Yu was pale and semi-conscious from severe blood loss during the battle.

 

Fortunately, Chu Jingting and Atticus had held off the bulk of the headless men at the dining room, buying Li Jianshan time to assist Yuan Yu.

 

Nearby, Li Jianhe and Xie Huahuang were also injured. Their condition was not much better.

 

Chu Jingting kicked the leader of the headless ones over the ship’s edge. The ocean, a vast black abyss, swallowed him without struggle.

 

The lifeboat hit the water.


Li Jianshan helped Yuan Yu jump in first. “Hurry up! The ship’s going down!”

 

Xie Huahuang and Li Jianhe, both injured, couldn’t stay on deck any longer. They followed and leapt into the raft.

 

The downpour blurred vision; eyes could barely stay open. The world was black, the rain the only streak of white.

 

Another wave struck. Atticus, drenched like a drowned rat, his golden hair clinging in wet strands, clutched the ship’s railing and shouted down: “Where’s Shui Que?!”

 

Xie Huahuang’s face turned pale, visibly uneasy.

 

“He’s in the lower deck.”


He and Yuan Yu had held off the captain, telling Shui Que to run down to the next level.

 

They hadn’t expected the ship to flood, or for it to start sinking completely in the storm.

 

Atticus cursed and turned to go back.

 

Perhaps catching Shui Que’s name, Yuan Yu—still bleeding from his back—suddenly emerged from unconsciousness. His bloodless face lifted as he whispered faintly: “Full moon… lighthouse…”

 

“Hey, Little Brother Yuan Yu, what’re you saying?” asked Li Jianshan.

 

Yuan Yu raised his hand, pointing his fingertip toward the full moon in the sky.

 

“When the moon is full… Wubao’s power reaches its peak and it goes into a frenzy… If the lighthouse goes out, it’ll attack passing ships…”

 

Just as he finished speaking, Li Jianshan’s pupils suddenly dilated—reflected in his eyes were countless writhing limbs flailing above the deck of the cargo ship.

 

Tentacles—countless of them—were slithering up from the deck stairwell, stretching across the deck and extending to the ship’s sides.

 

The entire vessel was being bound up like a bundle of firewood.

 

In the sea monster’s grasp, the ghost cargo ship was no sturdier than a scrap of paper—crushed, twisted, deformed.

Just like ten years ago, it began to sink.

 

[Main Quest 4: Folklore Public Course – “Inheritance and Development of Island Folk Culture: A Case Study of Thousand Smoke Island,”. Topic: Records of Seafaring Life and the Truth of the Thousand Smoke completed.]

 

[Time Until Instance Exit: 5 Minutes]

 

They weren’t the only ones who heard it.

 

Yuan Yu’s arm suddenly convulsed uncontrollably.

 

As the ship sank, Atticus fell into the sea and began swimming toward the life raft.

 

Li Jianshan shouted at him, “Did you see Shui Que and Chu Jingting?!”

 

The blond youth climbed up, wiping seawater from his face, and shook his head.

 

The life raft was silent.

 

But there was no system notification about a drop in the number of surviving players.

 

Which meant—they were still alive.

 

A glint of cold light flashed in the night and slipped into the deep water.

 

Chu Jingting was utterly focused—he had just used up the last of his S-rank rewards from the instance to redeem a weapon from the Infinite Game.

 

A dagger capable of fatally targeting all sub-S-rank instance bosses—it plunged into the tentacle and twisted repeatedly.

 

Flesh burst open. The sea monster shrieked, and blue-green blood gushed out.

 

Its tentacles spasmed and retracted in the seawater.

 

Chu Jingting wrapped an arm around Shui Que and swam upward, their heads breaking the surface of the ocean.

 

[Countdown: 2 minutes 56 seconds]

 

He held onto a wooden plank with one hand while patting Shui Que’s back with the other.

 

His damp, pale face was as white as snow, and his eyes remained quietly shut.

 

Chu Jingting paused for a moment, then no longer hesitated.

 

His cold lips pressed against Shui Que’s, steadily delivering breath into his mouth without pause.

 

【Countdown: One minute.】

 

The thin eyelids of the person beneath him trembled lightly. Chu Jingting turned his head away, hiding his expression in the dark of night.

 

“Cough… cough…” Shui Que coughed softly.

 

At the same time, he heard the countdown from the infinite game system.

 

A life raft in the distance spotted them and began paddling over.

 

The seawater was ice-cold and bone-chilling. Chu Jingting first tried to lift Shui Que onto the wooden board, but suddenly felt a dragging force from beneath the sea.

 

The board flipped over, spinning them along with it, rising and sinking.

 

Shui Que cried out, “Wait—wait! In the water… something’s pulling me!”

 

【Countdown: 31 seconds.】

 

The raft arrived. Yuan Yu leaned halfway out from the side, tightly gripping Shui Que’s hand. Because of the forceful movement, blood began gushing again from his already-clotted shoulder wound.

 

A towering wave crashed over, splashing foam everywhere. The twisted dark currents churned restlessly, greedily sucking in everything on the surface.

 

Li Jianshan pulled Chu Jingting from the front.

 

Meanwhile, the others had to press down the opposite end of the raft to keep it from capsizing.

 

The sea monster let out a piercing, mournful screech. After suffering severe injuries, its shadow beneath the waves had shrunk to less than half the size of the raft.

 

“Bo—bo—”

 

More and more blood dyed the surrounding sea into a blue-green hue.

 

【Countdown: 10… 9… 8…】

 

Shui Que had never heard the sea monster’s cry sound so grief-stricken.

 

“Bo—bo—!”

 

【5… 4… 3…】

 

Shui Que looked up. He could only make out a blurry dark shape.

 

It was slippery—quietly, it let go of his hand.

 

Yuan Yu’s fingers tensed into spasms as he screamed with all his might, “Shui Que—!”

 

But all he caught was a handful of freezing seawater.

 

【Congratulations on clearing [Thousand Smoke]】

 

【Number of players cleared: 6/7】

 

【Exiting the instance…】

 

【Instance settlement in progress…】

 

＊


【Story progress: 100%】

 

【Exiting the world…】

 

【World exit failed.】

 

【Detecting anomaly…】

 

System 77 was circling in a panic. Even though the host had already lost consciousness, it still kept whispering comforting words.

 

【It’s okay, it’s okay… just a small issue. Host, don’t worry, don’t be scared. System 77 is doing its best to report for repair…】

 

Soon after, Shui Que returned once more to that lair.

 

Compared to the last visit, the cave was now more refined, filled with stacks of dazzling items.

 

The sea monster carried Shui Que back and placed him in the nest.

 

Its injuries were too severe—it could no longer maintain its full tentacle form. Its upper half remained humanoid, while the tentacles below the waist were weakly curled up, dripping blue-green blood.

 

As soon as Shui Que’s head touched the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep.

 

Its little mate had not left.

 

Its little mate was in the nest it had built for him.

 

It dragged its tentacles, crawling to a corner chest, and opened it.

 

Inside was a medical kit.

 

It couldn’t read, but fortunately, some of the ointment containers had pictorial labels.

 

The sea monster took the ointment back to the nest and clumsily unscrewed the lid.

 

A large lump of the ointment splattered onto the ground.

 

It frowned in frustration.

 

To avoid waste, it used the fallen ointment to treat its own injured tentacles.

 

Then, using freshly squeezed, clean ointment, it applied some to its little mate’s knees.

 

The skin was broken, reddened.

 

While gently blowing on the wounds, cool tears silently slid from its eyes.

 

It lit a fire in the cave, wiped his body clean, and changed him into dry clothes.

 

After finishing all of this, blue-green stains were left all over the ground, but it no longer had the strength to clean them.

 

The sea monster curled up beside the bedding, holding Shui Que’s hand.

 

It needed a nap.

 

Tomorrow would be better—it would.

 

—Would it?

 

＊

 

How did one pass the time in the middle of the ocean, far from civilization?

 

All it took was a bamboo fishing rod to cast far and fish.

 

You didn’t even need worms, maggots, or sandworms as bait.

 

Just a sea monster.

 

Beneath the surface, the water teemed with shadows.

 

“Bo—bo—”

 

That familiar call rose from beneath the sea.

 

Everything was set.

 

The sea monster stunned a grouper fish with a slap from its tentacle and hooked it onto the fishing rod.

 

Its youngest tentacle tugged the line.

 

Reeling it in, the fishline spun swiftly.

 

When the grouper was pulled up, it was still reflexively flicking its tail.

 

The sea monster eagerly climbed up, looking at him.

 

Shui Que sighed and patted its head.

 

How to put it…

 

Fishing every day without ever returning empty-handed was honestly a bit boring.

 

Shui Que had been in this world for three days now, and System 77 was still frantically reporting the emergency.

 

But there were mountains and water here, and the sea monster brought him food. And now that the story progress had hit 100%, Shui Que could see again—regaining his sight felt amazing.

 

So, he comforted himself, treating this like a vacation.

 

Only one downside—

 

The sea monster was far too clingy.

 

Shui Que pushed away the head that had nudged up close.

 

For two or three days now, the south wind had been blowing. The weather was hot, and he fanned himself with his hand. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the foliage, casting round halos of light onto both him and the sea monster.

 

In the distance, clouds piled like white steeples, one after another.

 

Below them, a faint shadow loomed.

 

It might rain.

 

Shui Que wiped away the sweat forming at his forehead.

 

Their post-lunch fishing session didn’t last long. Shui Que got bored quickly, so the sea monster carried him back to the nest.

 

He had a habit of napping in the afternoon.

 

So the sea monster always made sure to carry him back on time.

 

Previously, it had been sleeping on the ground beside the bed, which Shui Que found too pitiful. So he told it to lay down a few more blankets and expand the nest, just enough to accommodate its body.

 

It lowered its head and nuzzled Shui Que’s neck affectionately—no different from a dog.

 

After nudging him enough, it always wanted to kiss him.

 

Though “kiss” might not be accurate—it mostly sniffed around, then tentatively licked Shui Que’s lips.

 

At first, Shui Que would push its head away. But after it happened so many times, he got annoyed and just shut his eyes, pretending to sleep.

 

His lips were left wet, a plump droplet forming at the center of his upper lip.

 

Only then would it wrap him in its arms and fall asleep.

 

That was the mandatory ritual before both their afternoon naps and nighttime sleep.

 

But today felt… different.

 

Its pitch-black head trailed downward from his neck.

 

Moisture seeped into the chiffon shirt, and beneath it, his heartbeat thudded in hiding.

 

The sea monster loved listening to the steady beat of a human’s heart.

 

Each faint rise and fall, delicate and soft, was now damp and clung to the shirt.

 

Its arm muscles bulged like iron clamps, locking Shui Que in place.

 

“Wh-what are you doing?” Shui Que panicked and grabbed its hair, trying to lift its head.

 

But it didn’t move. Instead, it pushed forward again. Its hair was coarse, short—like stubborn stubble.

 

Shui Que’s pupils contracted sharply.

 

It was midsummer outside, but the sea monster had chosen its cave well. The air inside remained cool.

 

That chill pressed tightly against him. His thin shirt rose slightly, two small buds firm beneath the chiffon.

 

His knuckles curled, and he smacked the sea monster’s head twice. “Get up now! If you’re not taking a nap, go swim outside!”

 

When communicating with the sea monster, he could only use imperative sentences as much as possible—questions were useless, the creature didn’t understand them.

 

Shui Que often had no choice but to command it.

 

And it rarely disobeyed.

 

In the height of summer, the sea monster was overflowing with boundless energy. Like many animals, this was also its mating season.

 

As soon as a hunt ended, it would immediately return to its nest to be intimate with its mate—this helped stabilize its restless temperament.

 

The sea monster was a deformed deep-sea creature.

 

Its icy mouth was lined with rows of sharp canine teeth and a tongue covered in barbs.

 

Even in the first world, the soft and tender little pink bud had never suffered such treatment.

 

The sea monster had never hunted this way before, but this time, it showed an unusual patience toward its prey. Even though its damp mouth kept dripping with saliva, it didn’t bite down—instead, it slowly ground its sharp teeth against him. The barbs pressed against the skin, serving only as a threat.

His shirt was wrinkled, the white fabric thin and transparent. The once-flat pink had swollen into a tender, rosy tip.

There was no pain, but it tingled—numb and itchy.

 

Shui Que couldn’t hold on anymore—tears kept streaming from the corners of his eyes.


Endless tears fell, mingling with the torrential rain outside.

 

The sea monster didn’t understand. Tilting its head, it leaned in again to kiss the corners of Shui Que’s eyes. Its cold lips gently pressed against his thin eyelids.


Shui Que had sweat profusely. The sound of the rain outside now felt distant, as though cut off from the world inside the nest. He could only hear what seemed to be far-off noises—waves crashing against the cliffs, the sound of water rushing from one ear through to the other.


The entire cave was filled with a rich, sweet scent.

 

He tried to push the sea monster’s head away. “Okay… go away…”


But it was too clingy, unwilling to leave him even for a moment.


“Bo—bo—”


It kissed his reddened nose tip, then his soft, pink shoulders.


The sea monster embraced Shui Que tightly, as if trying to knead him into its grotesque, inhuman body.


Its blackish-red tentacles coiled beneath Shui Que’s slim waist, wriggling and gliding slowly in the transparent fluid. The tentacles’ rough texture stood in stark contrast to the pale, soft flesh of his thighs.


The arch of his snowy-white feet tensed like a drawn bowstring.


His sobs were quiet and weak, not unlike a kitten’s mewling.


As his neck arched backward like a dying swan’s, Shui Que couldn’t tell if he really heard Xie Qian’s voice.

 

The moon was high in the sky.


When Shui Que forced his eyes open again, the sea monster was nudging against him.


No.


This time, it wasn’t the sea monster.


Xie Qian nuzzled the hollow of his neck and whispered, “Baby, I thought you peed.”


“The whole nest is wet with your water…”

 

It took Shui Que a second to understand what he meant, and then he frantically slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up! Don’t—don’t say stuff like that…”


He was a very clean person—he would never do that kind of thing in bed…


Xie Qian knew how shy he was, so he stopped talking and leaned down to kiss him.

 

Just like many times before in other simulations, Shui Que could practically describe all of Xie Qian’s kissing habits.


Tracing his soft lips again and again, prying them open and touching the back of his tongue, sucking so intensely that the sides of his tongue turned moist and tender.

 

“Mm…”


Xie Qian even insisted on licking away the water trailing down from Shui Que’s chin to his collarbone.


Shui Que kicked him in the waist and stomach. The man’s muscles tensed like steel armor, solid and unyielding.


His expression shifted a few times before suddenly lifting Shui Que into his arms.


Shui Que instinctively slapped him.

 

He didn’t use much force.


The man lowered his head, his deep eyes flickering. A faint red handprint appeared on the left side of his face.


His Adam’s apple moved slightly as he swallowed.


Yuan Zhou said, “…Sorry, you probably need to wash up.”

 

During the day it was sweat. By night, it was all the sea monster’s licking that left him soaked and sticky.


Shui Que held his breath.

 

He’d hit the wrong person…


His face flushed with heat, and he desperately wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep right then and there.

 

【77, can’t we leave this world yet?】he called out repeatedly in his mind.

 

System 77 was still in a state of emergency.


The Overseer replied: 【I’ve already reported it.】


Then asked, 【Why is there no visual feed? What are you two doing?】

 

The mechanical voice remained flat and emotionless.


【Reminder: Do not violate staff regulations.】


【This will affect my evaluation of your mission.】

---

Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

---