Chapter 56: Complaint!

“Hey! Believe me, I’ll complain! This question’s clearly not my fault—you guys screwed up, don’t pin it on me!”

Chiyan, hands on hips, yelled at who-knows-what. The third floor’s consciousness went silent, mid-telepathic chat with the white dragon.

[What now? Someone’s complaining! Uh… who’s this girl’s master? That tough? Got an Overlord title?]

“Uh… her master’s got a King Candidate title…”

[What?! King Candidate? Don’t BS me. Those are rare—mostly held by Ultimate Beings.]

“Yup, her master’s an Ultimate Being, Blood Clan’s True Ancestor, the original big shot…”

[Damn.]

The third floor’s consciousness froze. Only ten Ultimate Beings exist, a world limit—new ones only emerge if one dies. Most are terrifyingly strong, surviving even their race’s extinction. The True Ancestor, among the first, is rumored to be top-tier, juiced-up stats, stacked titles, maybe truly [Indomitable Spirit]. Nobody’s seen her stat panel, but she’s untouchable. Even at dragonkind’s peak, they could bully the Blood Clan, not her.

The system consciousness panicked. This place is a dragon “grave,” its AIs dragon souls. If it got wrecked… total meltdown.

It refocused on Chiyan. What now? Cool it, I guess.

[This question is voided. Second question begins.]

The interface popped up, and Chiyan’s pillar rose. Bingpo’s jaw dropped—she could fit an ostrich egg in there.

Right then, Bingpo had one thing to say.

“Master, you’re the best!”

Chiyan’s wild complaint worked, but Master’s clout sealed it. Without her, no dice. Thinking to complain to Master? Classic Chiyan—brain on hyperdrive, just… not normal.

Normal folks flub a question, feel bad, and focus on the next. Hot-blooded “protagonists” yell, “I won’t mess up again!” or “I’m fired up!” That’s the vibe, right?

As the pillar rose, Chiyan, arms crossed, nodded smugly. The next question? She hadn’t looked.

Still, she was cocky. First question was their screw-up. If they play fair, she’s golden.

I’m a genius, yo!

Chiyan took a deep breath, eyes locked on the interface. “Slaughter” time!

One minute passed.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes passed.

The intelligence test… cracked.

Why? Chiyan’s answers were too damn wild. I’m throwing riddles, and she’s throwing riddles back? That’s not normal!

Question: Why does the sun wake up earlier than a dragon?

Chiyan: “Bull! I wake up before the sun!”

Question: A hundred birds on a tree—how do you stop them all from moving?

Chiyan: “One dragon breath, and none’ll move again!”

This, this, this.

Is this answering questions?!

You’re playing riddles with me!

Wait, it is a riddle game… Argh, whatever, I’m done!

Chiyan’s interface flickered, dissolving into light particles. Her pillar dropped fast, like she’d cleared the test. No treasure chest, though.

Chiyan frowned, about to speak, when Bingpo’s hand clapped her shoulder.

“Stop. Keep talking, and my combat test might not even happen,” Bingpo muttered, covering her face, mortified.

Chiyan pouted. She didn’t care much for chest loot, so fine, let it slide for Bingpo.

“Your combat test—go hard! Pass smooth like me!”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll… try…”

Bingpo forced a smile, nodding. Pass? Sure. Smooth like you? Cough, trying.

The third floor’s consciousness, tormented by Chiyan, let her pass. Now, it’d vent on Bingpo’s combat test.

[Combat test starting. Prepare.]

The interface appeared. Bingpo nodded, distancing herself from Chiyan, waiting in another area.

Tactics time? No enemy yet—what’s to plan? Bingpo breathed steadily, easing her body to peak form.

“I can do this. If Chiyan can, I can. Special skill? I’ll pull one off too!”

Bingpo muttered. The ground shook, cracks spiderwebbing. A massive beast erupted from the floor. Bingpo shielded her eyes from dust.

A roar hit her ears, her skin prickling with biting cold.

No way…

Bingpo lowered her arm, staring. The beast wasn’t just any dragon—it was an ice dragon, like her.

Its size, its chill—no Detect needed. Way scarier than the second floor’s corpse dragon. Third floor’s boss, alright. Still, within Bingpo’s expectations.

“Now, how to handle this guy…” Bingpo’s forehead beaded with sweat.