Fan i?? Subspace mahjong room?

Chapter 35: Warp Card Room?

? Warp, card room??

. . .

It feels like someone just picked a patch of pure black space, of unknown height, unknown depth, unknown width, and unknown breadth.

A floor made of black and white squares, forming a stereotypically-imagined card room, abruptly appears in this space.

A white fluorescent light hangs precariously from the black space above, its plain white light shining monotonously on a circular area.

On the black and white checkered floor stands an ordinary four-legged reddish-brown round table, neatly covered with a black velvet tablecloth. On the tablecloth are countless, innumerable, large and small, closely packed chess pieces.

No one moves the pieces, yet the pieces move on their own, each changing its position on the board according to its own rules.

Every second, countless pieces disappear, and every second, countless new pieces appear.

Originally, this space was silent.

But suddenly, as if in the blink of an eye, five figures are already seated around this small table.

One, with a large belly, yellow-green pus constantly gurgling and flowing from his large stomach. His chair is made of sturdy vines, half of which are full of life, with fleshy flowers joyfully revealing pus and sewage.

The other half is withered and decayed, with utter death and silence clinging to the vine branches.

But if anyone were to observe closely, they would see that the two sides of the chair are constantly changing, the deathly half one moment being full of life the next.

His pus splatters on the round table, the foul-smelling liquid soaking the nearby tablecloth.

But despite this disrespectful sight, the others at the table ignore it.

One, constantly flickering and changing, "sits" on a crystal chair that is also constantly transforming. Tentacles protrude from his body one moment, only to turn into the sharp beaks of birds the next, chirping and screeching.

The only constant is the blue light, sometimes bright, sometimes dim, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow.

The crystal chair constantly transforms, flashing bizarre and dazzling lights. Its shape sometimes becomes very strange, hardly deserving to be called a chair, but he who sits upon it always manages to find a suitable posture to "sit" on this chair.

Angry red light roars. His chair, made of countless skulls piled up and plated with brass, seems somewhat crude compared to the seats of the others, all made of skulls.

But he likes it very much.

Next to the chair, a battle axe filled with violent aesthetics is driven directly into the floor.

Countless blood constantly bursts from the gaps between the skulls. Slaughter, destruction, beheadings, brawls – he who governs justice and brutality constantly roars out angry words.

Beside him sits a lithe figure, constantly writhing. Glimmering, bizarre purple light flashes on her scales, perfect and strange, humming a pleasant chant. Her serpentine body is coiled around the chair, with some part of her tail suddenly tensing or relaxing, accompanied by a distinctly abrupt moan.

The chair beneath her is the ultimate work of art, with countless patterns that artists could imagine in a lifetime engraved upon it, perfect and enchanting.

These four occupy most of the round table, the green pus, blue light, blood, and lustful fluids symbolizing their territories seeping from their seats, slowly permeating the black velvet tablecloth and gradually corroding the chess pieces on the table.

Compared to the other four, who are so boisterous, the last one occupies the smallest space on the round table.

But this cannot conceal his nobility.

He wears a white robe, pure white and without any decoration. Beneath the simple linen is the most perfect, muscular physique that humans can imagine, the muscles strong yet aesthetically pleasing.

Although he is clearly ignored by the four at the table, occupies the smallest area, and can even be described as cramped, he still sits calmly, the gold chair subtly gleaming.

On the round table, under the white light, above the chessboard, twenty-one chess pieces are clearly taller than the rest of the myriad beings, their finely carved textures shining without light, attracting the attention of the four on the field.

But currently, most of the exquisite chess pieces are held in the arms of that most inconspicuous player. The four Chaos Gods, more or less, shake their heads in dissatisfaction and blink their eyes.

Greedy fellows must pay the price.

A contract is not the same as a rule. To break a contract, they must personally bestow punishment.

However, the trends on the chessboard are ever-changing. The time is not yet ripe; the story has not yet reached its climax.

On the tabletop, near death and decay, a delicately carved chess piece holding a scythe stands proudly, moving slightly according to its own rules.

Beside it, Grandfather Nurgle places a rotten alien chess piece. The two have been constantly fighting since the beginning, the small and exquisite duel constantly causing Grandfather Nurgle to laugh.

But, at some point, one of the tiniest chess pieces nearby suddenly becomes a little bigger. Of course, this does not escape the notice of the Chaos Gods.

This chess piece looks the same as the other smallest pieces, just an ordinary chess piece, nothing attractive.

But if you pay a little more attention, you will find a black spot on it.

Is it an Untouchable? These blackened chess pieces have always been disliked by the Chaos Gods.

But if you look closer, the black spot on that chess piece is actually a tiny hole.

The deep hole leads to an unknown place, a very, very small point, but it seems to connect to another infinitely vast space.

Nurgle mutters. He who governs stagnation has always disliked these little guys who appear from time to time.

They appear extremely rarely and are often confused.

According to the agreement between the Chaos Gods, these little guys who might threaten the entire world should be directly eliminated.

What's more, this annoying fellow is right next to His favorite piece.

He began to rearrange the board, but a conflict arose in the distance, where the board met the Lord of Change.

Annoying fellow.

Nurgle, who presides over stagnation, and Tzeentch, who presides over change, are mortal enemies, and they often fight.

While Nurgle and Tzeentch were entangled, the Master of Mankind continued to calmly advance his pieces.

Finally, he arrived.

The exquisite piece wielding a scythe and the inconspicuous little piece appeared in his hand at the same time.

He didn't immediately erase the little piece.

"Oh—no way?"

Slaanesh twisted exaggeratedly, face contorted, as if making the most exaggerated expression They could imagine.

"Are you going to change those little agreements between us?"

"You can't always do these little tricks!!! It doesn't do this world any good?!?"

The red figure raged, The blue figure shrieked with wild laughter, "See, I'm not the first to change the agreement?!"

"However..."

Wisdom and cunning flashed in His eyes, "If you insist on doing this, then we can also change the agreement."

"Clearly you're the one who wants to play, have you forgotten the beginning?"

Nurgle looked at Tzeentch with dissatisfaction, that damned blue bird.

"Exactly, you're the one who wants to play! It's always you?!"

Slaanesh winked at Tzeentch. They didn't dislike these little tricks. Although it was dangerous, it would bring Them a different kind of pleasure.

"Besides you two, we don't bother playing these boring and risky schemes!!!"

Seeing that the Emperor was still determined to hold his piece, They didn't entangle too much. The Lord of Change stretched out a "hand" and slapped the table.

The agreement was rewritten.

The most subtle changes occurred on the chessboard.

No one noticed. The Chaos Gods quarreled and returned to their previous state, as if the scene just now hadn't attracted much of Their attention.

The Master of Mankind seemed to be neglected once again, but he remained calm.

Behind him, The Fool, lurking in the darkness outside the light, made a silent appearance. The loser of the last game had long been ridiculed and dismissed by the Chaos Gods.

From an unseen place under the table, He handed two pieces to the Emperor.

His twisted smiling face was full of unwillingness and anger.

The Emperor smiled.

Little knowledge: The protagonist's name—Hades—is the King of the Underworld in ancient Greek mythology.

He presides over the underworld, death, and pain. He is a symbol of the souls of the dead.

At the same time, he doesn't care much about things.

He is often confused with the Grim Reaper by others.

There is no card room in the Warp, so this chapter does not exist. The above plot did not happen anywhere, it's all made up.

In addition, with a clear conscience, I just randomly picked the protagonist's name from a foreign baby naming website. I only discovered so many coincidences after reading the comments and checking!!! When I gave him the nickname "Wraith," I didn't know the meaning of the protagonist's name at all!!! Holy crap, I won't be targeted by Tzeentch, will I?!