Chapter 1161: A Gift

In that fleeting moment of contact, Amon sensed the subtle fluctuations buried deep within the normal flow of thought data—those faint, scarred records that mirrored the physical body in reality.

He might not understand the principles of neural networks, nor grasp how magical power drove those artificial neural cords and connectors to enable the exchange of thoughts and data. But as a former god, he still possessed a unique authority within his domain—something that hadn’t diminished one bit, even after three thousand years of decline and losing his divine status.

The god of nature had grown old—but even an old stag still had tricks up his sleeve.

Patty stopped, looking at the elderly gentleman before her with confusion. The seriousness in his eyes made her a little nervous. “Mr. High-Speed Stag… are you alright?”

“Is your health… very poor?” Amon furrowed his brow. The instant their fingers touched, he linked with the mortal girl’s spirit. In his vision, beneath the bright white dress and radiant smile, there was another “shadow” overlaying her—a fragile, battered figure, riddled with scars and sickness. Despite numerous signs of treatment, many wounds remained incurable. “Did you suffer a severe injury many years ago?”

“Mr. High-Speed Stag?” Patty’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know that…?”

“I…” Amon opened his mouth but found himself unable to explain. He couldn’t reveal his identity casually. Yet how could an ordinary user wandering the neural network instantly “see” the problems hidden within Patty?

Patty didn’t press further. She sensed the old man had reasons he couldn’t speak aloud. As one of the earliest users of the neural network and now a guide, this once naive girl had learned much. She knew those who had once stayed by her side were actually members of the Sleeper cult, and many colleagues she worked with in the network had long since died in the real world. After enduring so much that ordinary people couldn’t imagine, when faced with a man harboring unspoken troubles, she simply smiled gently.

“It’s okay, sir. Everyone has secrets they don’t want to share,” she said with a cheerful shake of her head. “But you’re right—my health isn’t great, and I still need care. Though compared to a few years ago, I’m much better now. According to Grandpa Pittman, aside from limited mobility, there’s nothing left inside me that threatens my life or will worsen…”

Amon was relieved she didn’t ask more questions. He also knew what she said was true—based on what he observed, the girl’s remaining injuries were severe but showed clear signs of treatment. From a mortal healing perspective, her recovery was near the limit.

She had been pulled back from a fate that might have ended her before adulthood, even allowed to live to a ripe old age. From a human viewpoint, it was a miracle.

But from a god’s perspective, it could be even better—if only he dared to step just a little beyond a dangerous boundary.

“Mr. High-Speed Stag?” Noticing the old man fall silent again, Patty furrowed her delicate brows and tiptoed, waving her hand in front of him. “Are you thinking about something again?”

Amon snapped out of his reverie. He lowered his gaze and fixed the girl with a deep, watery look. He stared for a long time—long enough to make Patty feel awkward—before suddenly speaking.

“Little Patty, have we known each other for almost a month now?”

“Actually, it’s still about twenty days short…” Patty scratched the back of her head, counting. “Why? Why do you ask?”

“I want to give you a little gift.” Amon’s ancient, kindly face softened, wrinkles smoothing as he smiled. He bent slightly and flicked his wrist before her, as if performing a magic trick, producing a pure white flower out of thin air. “Look, I created this myself—something that has never existed in this world.”

“Wow!” Patty’s eyes lit up as she reached out excitedly. “You’ve learned how to create things with your mind in this Dream City? It’s beautiful! Thank you, Mr. High-Speed Stag…”

She took the flower, but before she could finish her sentence, the old man suddenly vanished. In the special info panel visible to her as a guide, it showed the user she was interacting with had logged out.

…

A flash of white light flooded her vision. The brief dizziness caused by forced neural redirection passed quickly. Amon felt dazed for a moment, and when his sight cleared, he found himself in a space filled with endless mist, gray grasslands, and boundless light. The pale fog obscured all details; only a distant hill was faintly visible, and a massive figure lay quietly hidden in the mist.

He looked down and saw a ring of bright red letters swirling around him: You have been temporarily banned by the administrator.

The huge figure in the mist stirred. It was enormous and heavy, yet moved silently. Amon instinctively prepared to defend himself but quickly recognized who it was and relaxed, patiently waiting for the visitor to approach.

Long segmented limbs cut through the fog as a sacred white spider emerged. Its aimless head drooped toward Amon. Then, a small figure appeared atop the spider’s dense fur and lightly jumped down.

Her long white hair, trailing to her ankles, spread like wings in the air before folding back as Narithil—the “Upper Narrator” who oversaw the entire neural network—stood before Amon. She looked at the former god, now appearing as an elven elder, with a businesslike expression.

Before she spoke, Amon opened his hands. “I know, I know—dangerous operation, right? I heard Melmyna mention that breaking the rules brings the administrators…”

“Ordinary violations only trigger automatic warnings or patrols by network management,” Narithil said sternly. “Being kicked out just returns you to the real world. Only the highest-level, most special violations summon the Upper Narrator and bring you to this ‘interface layer.’”

“Is that so?” Amon was momentarily taken aback. This differed slightly from what he’d understood. “Melmyna said you chase her around all the time, dragging her here for lectures… I thought you handled all violations personally.”

“Please don’t interrupt, Mr. Amon,” Narithil said immediately. “You and your companions have added a lot of extra work for me and Duvalet. Compared to you, Ms. Enya is much more well-behaved.”

Amon coughed twice. “Cough, cough. This is only my first violation. You can’t blame me for Melmyna running wild and pushing the ‘rule boundaries’… Well, I’m not trying to dodge responsibility. I admit my violation, but… I just wanted to help that girl a little.”

His expression grew serious at the end. On this matter alone, he was resolute—he admitted his fault but would dare to do it again.

“I understand,” Narithil’s face remained unchanged as she stared seriously at Amon. “So your punishment is only a temporary ban—to prevent you from taking further dangerous actions.”

That sounded like the ban would be lifted soon. Amon breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the young but earnest goddess before him. His mind cleared and he casually asked, “How long will the ban last? When can I go back?”

“Wait for notification,” Narithil said, looking up. “But don’t worry, it won’t be more than a few hours.”

“That’s not so bad…” Amon relaxed further and began thinking about how to pass the time. Then he suddenly sensed something was off. “Wait, something about this doesn’t feel right…”

“What’s wrong?”

“…You should know my former authority and the power I still hold after losing my divine status,” Amon’s expression turned serious as he looked into Narithil’s pale eyes. “So you must know that after a few contacts with Patty, I would inevitably discover her condition. Considering my human side now dominates, and my nature includes a streak of recklessness, you should…”

He paused, then continued, “There’s more than one guide, but the only one I’ve interacted with all these days is Patty… Who arranged this?”

Narithil was silent for a few seconds before slowly replying, “Who knows…”

Amon stared at the Upper Narrator for a long moment, then asked again, “So, is this a kind gesture or another test project?”

“Both,” Narithil answered calmly.

Seeing she wasn’t going to reveal more, Amon sighed helplessly. “One last question—does this harm Patty in any way?”

“We never conduct harmful experiments on test subjects without informing them. Patty knows nothing; she will only receive a gift.”

“Alright, considering the issues the Divine Council is facing, that’s probably the most impeccable attitude,” Amon nodded in agreement.

For the first time, Narithil showed a hint of surprise. This young but retired goddess, now rehired, looked at Amon with some astonishment. “You’re really not angry at all?”

Amon looked down at the white-haired girl before him. After a long moment, he laughed, his wrinkles relaxing more than before. “Why would I be angry? I’ve been through too many storms. All this is just small stuff to me—especially since it’s ‘a little beneficial trouble.’”

“Good to hear you think that way,” Narithil finally smiled faintly, her businesslike demeanor fading. “But even so, I can’t lift your ban early. The observation team is still monitoring the ‘flower’s’ aftereffects. Until the process is complete, you must stay here.”

Amon nodded thoughtfully. His gaze swept over the mist, the faint hills, and endless plains beyond. He muttered to himself, “The deeper layers of the neural network have stronger divine protections… This is basically an isolation chamber. I get it. Don’t worry, I’ll wait patiently. Patience is the one thing I’m never short of…”

Silence settled over the mist-shrouded space. After a few minutes, Amon’s voice suddenly broke the quiet.

“Why don’t you call Duvalet over? The three of us could play some cards or something…”

Nariel glanced at Amon, who was sitting on the ground lost in thought, and shook her head. “Duvalet should be free right now, but I don’t feel like playing cards.”

“But Gawain’s card game needs at least three players…” Amon frowned immediately. “And Lady Enya isn’t here either…”

Nariel just gave a quiet glance in his direction, offering no reply.

“Then bring Milmina,” Amon finally said, unable to hold back. “With Duvalet, that makes enough ‘people.’”

Nariel shook her head firmly. “Administrators have their rules. I can’t just bring someone here if the user hasn’t broken any regulations. Mr. Amon, don’t even think about it…”

“She told me yesterday there’s a data-misaligned tree near the ‘Triangle Plaza.’ If you jump and dash through it, you can pass through the ‘narrative surface’ and connect directly to the city’s secondary encrypted communication layer. You can even see inside from there…”

Before he finished, Nariel’s figure had already vanished into the mist-shrouded space, her voice fading as it reached Amon’s ears: “Wait here. I’ll go get her.”

Amon watched the direction where Nariel and the enormous white spider dissolved into the fog. After a long moment, he shrugged and muttered to himself, “Not my problem.”

…

Downstream of the Whitewater River, in the eastern part of Grant City, the towering Riftstone Keep still stood firm at the edge of the cliff. Inside the castle, in the room with the best natural light, a gentle humming suddenly came from an immersion pod set against the wall. The pod’s lid smoothly slid open, revealing the seat inside—and leaning there was Patty, who over the past two years had gradually taken on the appearance of a young girl.

Feeling the sunlight’s warmth, Patty’s eyelids fluttered a few times before she fully emerged from her “submersion.” She opened her eyes and looked around, immediately spotting the familiar figure:

Selina Gerfen, holding a lantern, stood by the fireplace not far away, smiling warmly at her.

(End of chapter)