Her Tentacles 83

Chapter 83: The Little Fish

“Yaoyao, Yaoyao?”

A slightly anxious call finally woke Shu Yao from that long dream.

At that time, she was still in the form of a little octopus, but because she had only explored the ruins of the outer lands, she felt particularly bored and wanted to return to the darkness to sleep—

And then that darkness ate up all her bad emotions.

By the time she opened her eyes again, it was a new life. She could, like the first time she had appeared in the abyss, curiously treat the place she was already extremely familiar with as a new, never-before-seen paradise, and entertain herself for a long time.

A few times.

When she was tired of the nearby seafood, or was no longer interested in this area, she would also leave the darkness and curiously head toward the [Lighthouse].

And then on the way, she would encounter the jellyfish that had been iterated countless times by the [Lighthouse], and had completely taken Its will as their highest goal, no longer having any personal emotions or unique thoughts.

They even didn’t have a unique name like Flower Hat, but were uniformly named [Martyrs].

Every time the [Martyrs] discovered her difference, the little octopus would face a pursuit. Sometimes she could win, sometimes she couldn’t, but the final outcome was always her returning to that darkness.

And so.

From then on, the abyss had more legends about one generation after another of the [Monarch Slayer].

And after Shu Yao had gone through the first complete, long, and painful dream, the rest were all fragments. She felt as if she were trapped in a barren, forgotten corner of time.

Until Lin Ran’s voice, through that darkness, reached her world again.

…

“Yaoyao?”

This time, the voice that fell into her ears became clearer.

Shu Yao’s eyelashes trembled, and she finally slowly opened her eyes.

Her light brown eyes, under the warm light of the living room, returned to this real world, and the first thing they reflected was the appearance of the person holding her.

Her long hair, which was darker and blacker than most people’s, and her deep-set features, with eyes that could convey deep affection and easily draw one into her emotional vortex with just a little concentration.

Shu Yao’s eyes were still a little dazed. She couldn’t help but blink again, wanting to confirm if what she was seeing was real.

Her eyelashes fluttered.

And then more heat, which was unbearable, slid down from the corners of her eyes.

When Lin Ran saw her like this, she felt as if her heart had been squeezed. She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with her cool fingertips, her expression filled with helplessness, and even some panic.

In the time that Shu Yao had been asleep, she had tried for a long time to figure out the reason for her lover’s abnormality.

For this reason.

The tentacle clone in this house had been holding the person tightly in its arms at all times, not daring to be distracted for a moment as it watched the changes in Shu Yao’s body.

At the same time, it controlled the main body outside, walking out of this darkness that enveloped it, to explore the changes in the abyss environment, to see if it was an indirect cause of Shu Yao’s influence.

She had encountered many [Martyrs] who had been summoned back by the [Lighthouse].

Even though one of her tentacles had not regenerated for the time being, just with the remaining seven, Lin Ran was not at a disadvantage in her fight with them.

Because Shu Yao had raised her so well. When she was on land, she had used almost the entire city of Nancheng’s [Parasites] to feed her.

If it weren’t for the fact that she had noticed the abnormality of the person in her arms starting to cry in her sleep, perhaps Lin Ran would have already, out of annoyance, chased after these [Martyrs] and slaughtered them all.

What interrupted Lin Ran’s thoughts was the first action of the person in her arms after she had woken up from her long sleep.

Shu Yao opened her arms, sat on her lap, and hugged her neck tightly, even burying her head in it.

The hot tears that had just been wiped away by her fingertips now continued to flow onto her collar, her skin.

Ever since they had met again, Shu Yao had never shown such an unreserved, wholehearted state of attachment. Lin Ran couldn’t help but become even more nervous.

She wrapped one arm around her girlfriend’s waist, and her other palm stroked the back of her neck. Her tone was much lighter, as if she were afraid of scaring her. “What’s wrong, Yaoyao?”

Shu Yao closed her eyes, letting the emotions left over from the overly real dream pour out belatedly.

She finally knew who the staring gaze that had fallen on her after she had entered the abyss came from.

—From Lin Ran’s past.

This darkness that existed in the abyss, which could resist the [Lighthouse]’s gaze and fight against Its will, was the [Gluttony] and [Immortality] abilities that had been stripped from the [Monarch Slayer]. And buried with it was the past when she had possessed these abilities.

The scale that her mermaid friend had given her, the city of Atlantis that had become a ruin, and the grave where her only family, Flower Hat, was buried, and in the grave, there were also other [Lighthouse] stinging threads that had left traces of her companions’ energy.

All of these.

Were all stripped away by the sad and painful little octopus, because only in this way could she not be tormented and killed by this pain.

But no one had expected.

The batch of offspring that the [Lighthouse] was most dissatisfied with, and among them, the only remaining, most special little octopus, had finally forgotten these painful memories, but by a strange twist of fate, under another pursuit by Its followers, it had drifted to a new world.

There.

She had descended upon an ordinary human, and thus she was able to use a human body, and with the more delicate and sensitive seven emotions and six desires of a human, she had met another person, and then, in this human’s body, she had also poured out extreme emotions.

Because of her joy, she was joyful. Because of her pain, she was in pain.

Finally, she brought this love back to this darkness in the abyss.

When Shu Yao was awakened and left this dream, she had vaguely sensed that that darkness was Lin Ran’s self-protection. When it sensed her return, it had come over as it had before.

Thinking that it was going to eat the little octopus’s bad, terrible emotions and memories again.

And then.

It saw the shining person that the little octopus was holding in its heart.

Perhaps it was out of curiosity, or perhaps it was because of its resonance with the little octopus, which had triggered its instincts, that it also wanted to get close to her. So this darkness had unconsciously approached Shu Yao.

And then this contact had inadvertently made her fall into this dream that carried countless memories, and had let her touch Lin Ran’s scarred past.

…

Shu Yao guessed that perhaps it was because her mutation came from Lin Ran.

That was why she could, to a certain extent, be in sync with her, and had accidentally read these.

After obtaining this ability, Shu Yao was glad for the first time that she could have it, and then she understood in advance the existence of this darkness, and the meaning of the abyss to Lin Ran.

In her girlfriend’s soft inquiry.

She slowly shook her head and managed to say, “I was probably just too tired before, so I took a nap and had a nightmare.”

“Mmm?”

Lin Ran’s palm on the back of her neck moved down her spine, and she gently patted her back, as if she were coaxing a child. Her tone was also extremely patient:

“What nightmare?”

As if they were not in a dangerous abyss, and did not have to face an enemy like the [Lighthouse]. At this moment, they were just snuggling together in their home in the afternoon, chatting idly.

Such warmth, compared to what Lin Ran had experienced before, was a world of difference.

How could Shu Yao bear to let her carry those pains again?

She took one of Lin Ran’s hands and placed it on her heart, feeling the slight, needle-like pain with every heartbeat. She learned from her former innocent appearance, when she knew nothing, and acted spoiled with her in a soft voice:

“Here, it hurts a little.”

“Hold me. It won’t hurt if you hold me.” Because she had seen enough of those pains.

Lin Ran’s three hearts were about to melt into water in her spoiling. She immediately tightened her arms, trying to give her enough security, and at the same time, she was very careful, for fear of making her feel pain.

She didn’t know what was wrong with Shu Yao.

She was afraid that she had had an unknown, other mutation, and she was also afraid that she was in unbearable pain and was just using her spoiling to brush her off now.

So a simple embrace also made her furrow her brows again.

At this moment of sweet embrace, a somewhat out-of-control sourness spread in her heart.

Until Shu Yao asked her, “Did you find anything different outside while I was sleeping?”

Lin Ran looked at her expression carefully, confirmed that she was not pretending, and that she had really just had a very bad nightmare. Only then did she reply in a daze:

“Nothing.”

“There were just some strange plants, and a few noisy rats came back.”

But Shu Yao curiously asked, “What kind of plants?”

Lin Ran did not realize that her question revealed a familiarity with the former environment of the abyss. She answered without any guard, “A kind of silver grass. The leaves are quite beautiful.”

But she had no intention of touching it.

Because the environment of the abyss was changing now. Although it had no effect on her, after all, the person she cherished was still a fragile human for the time being. She was afraid that casually bringing things from the abyss into this home would affect Shu Yao.

Who knew that after hearing her description, Shu Yao was a little stunned.

And then.

Her expression showed a hint of gritted teeth.

In her heart, she cursed the immoral [Lighthouse]’s killing and heart-wrenching actions several times. Shu Yao couldn’t help but say, “Can you let me see?”

Lin Ran was a little hesitant.

Shu Yao thought that the [Lighthouse]’s main body was still in the abyss, and Lin Ran had not yet regained those abilities. She didn’t want her to be in danger, so she just said, “It’s okay if I don’t see it. I was just casually curious.”

She just held Lin Ran’s neck and said to her, “Why don’t we go back?”

Hearing her words, Lin Ran was very surprised.

She could completely understand Shu Yao’s fear of the uncontrollable, unknown mutation. She had even encouraged her to explore the hidden secrets of the abyss before. But why had she changed her mind in such a short time?

Was it related to the nightmare she had had?

…

From the time she had obtained these special abilities and had been used as a mule by the special department to go on field missions, Shu Yao had been thinking about one question.

Did this city have to be saved by her?

Later, she was assigned to that fraud organization mission, and was thrown into the square dance crowd to gather information, but she did very poorly. She was told to rest by Lu Ren, and was basking in the sun on the side with nothing to do. She even had the time to help a little flower girl come up with an idea to package her flowers better to sell.

Shu Yao suddenly understood.

Even without her, this ability user, things would not have changed much.

And just like the apocalypse now.

She suddenly remembered a little story she had read when she was young.

Hundreds of fish were swept ashore by the waves brought by a strong wind. A child walked along the beach, and as he walked, he threw these fish back into the sea, one by one. But facing the thousands of fish all over the beach, even if he worked hard from morning to night without sleep, he couldn’t throw all the fish back into the sea.

Someone laughed at him, saying that this was just a drop in the bucket and wouldn’t change anything.

But the child replied, “This little fish cares.”

And then he picked up the next one and threw it back. “This little fish also cares.”

Shu Yao knew that her abilities were limited, and she could never be a so-called “savior.” She could only ever do what she could.

If the misfortune brought by the [Lighthouse] was a little octopus having to bear those pains that were worse than death, and to end it by sacrificing herself, then she would never allow it.

Because the little fish cared.

She also cared.

She had worked so hard to raise her “little fish” back to its current state. She didn’t want this little octopus to be tormented by the past, by the irretrievable pain.

She wanted her little octopus to be so simple and purely happy, to only have to think about whether the things in front of it could be eaten, and whether they were delicious. That was enough.