However, just as the Goblin God’s dice was about to be thrown by the invisible hand—
A moment before—
[Cheer! Rejoice! Offer joy to the god!(≧▽≦)ノ]
A notification box, dazzling in color and with fonts so flamboyant it seemed to emit its own sparkling effects, popped up without warning.
It forcefully took the central C-position in Shi Hanfeng’s vision, squeezing the green God’s dice to the side!
“Huh?!”
Shi Hanfeng was caught off guard, his brow under the faceplate helmet twitching hard.
This style, this emoji—was this his own talent?
What kind of mischief was it up to now?
[Special conditions met: Pope of the Pure Court (1/1), Demon Paladin (1/1), Fallen Saintess (1/1), Crisis Brought by the Divine (1/1)]
[You have recreated the Equipment Genesis Scene, resolved the False God’s Creation, and will obtain an item with 100% affinity to yourself.]
???
A string of messages left Shi Hanfeng a bit dazed, especially those four conditions that sounded full of complaints.
“Pope of the Pure Court” was easy to understand—he was wearing the set himself.
“Demon Paladin?”
Wasn’t that the nickname those bored adventurers in Ximu Town randomly gave?
Did this lousy title really get certified?
“Fallen Saintess”…
His gaze involuntarily shifted to the corner, where the golden-haired nun still lay unconscious.
Alright, that barely counted as one.
As for the last “Crisis Brought by the Divine,” he looked up at the Goblin God’s dice.
Yeah, no problem there. He was being oppressed.
But what did all this even mean?
“Are you sure you’re my talent, and not some Laughter God in disguise?”
Shi Hanfeng couldn’t help but complain inwardly.
Also, maybe he had wrongly accused the NPCs of Ximu Town; turns out this title wasn’t just for show—it really had a use, though the conditions to trigger it were harsh.
This felt like randomly completing a chain of hidden achievements in an online game, with unexpectedly high-level rewards—free stuff was always satisfying.
The conditions might be odd, but as long as it’s free, it’s valuable!
While Shi Hanfeng’s thoughts raced over this sudden prompt, the green dice hovering in midair, briefly overshadowed, seemed to sense displeasure and began spinning rapidly, then was thrown heavily.
Though it had no hands, it performed the motion perfectly.
The dice spun twice in the void, then settled quickly.
The upward face showed two dots.
[Two points, you will face the attack of a Goblin Assassin]
As the cold rule prompt faded, every light source in the cavern hall—including the dying campfire, faint moss glows on the walls, and even the soft Saint Pattern halo from Shi Hanfeng’s armor—instantly extinguished.
Pure darkness swallowed everything.
For ordinary people, or even most adventurers, being plunged into such extreme darkness would induce instant panic, forcing them into a defensive stance relying solely on hearing and touch, leaving countless vulnerabilities.
However, in the next second after darkness descended—
“Chila.”
A sound like something sharp scraping against hard metal came from Shi Hanfeng’s left side, near his waist.
And… that was it.
The [Life Shield] enveloping Shi Hanfeng’s entire body from the Pope of the Pure Court set didn’t even ripple.
The attack was pathetically weak, akin to a mosquito trying to polish a tank’s armor plate with its thin legs.
Shi Hanfeng:
Is that all?
He could practically imagine a scrawny Goblin, overconfident in its stealth, clutching a blackened, broken dagger, stabbing with all its might—only to find it hadn’t even scratched the surface. The dumbfounded expression that would follow.
“Almost forgot about this…”
Shi Hanfeng smiled silently under his visor.
If it had been when he first crossed over, or even when he’d teamed up with Hans and the others, such darkness would have been a real headache, leaving him vulnerable and possibly defeated by such a cheap trick.
But things were different now.
The set armor granted overwhelming defense, making him an iron can hated by Goblins everywhere.
And now, he didn’t even have to take hits passively.
Since switching to solo farming mode, he had cleared at least fifteen or twenty Goblin nests.
In addition to silver coins and food materials, sometimes unexpected surprises dropped from the little green-skinned pests.
For example, from one unlucky Goblin, he’d obtained a skill book—[Goblin’s Night Vision].
He had scoffed at the name at first, and the effect was only the ability to see in dim light, far from true dark vision.
Still, since more skills never hurt, he learned it just in case.
Unexpectedly, it came in handy now.
At this moment, in Shi Hanfeng’s vision, the world wasn’t pitch-black but shrouded in a greenish glow, as if he were wearing high-tech night-vision goggles.
The clarity wasn’t as good as daylight, but it was enough to see the hall’s outline and—
A small, purple-black figure, sneaking around with an exaggeratedly “professional” stealth gait, circling him with comedic stealth.
The creature’s skin was a matte purple-black, blending perfectly into the darkness, holding a similarly blackened short dagger in reverse grip, its eyes glowing with a wary, greedy light in the eerie green vision.
It seemed to be searching for a gap in Shi Hanfeng’s armor, preparing for its next lethal strike.
Shi Hanfeng felt a surge of mischief.
He deliberately pretended not to notice, shifting his body and planting the Wufeng Sword into the ground, his helmeted head turning as if trying hard to pierce the darkness—acting the part of a helpless iron can.
The Goblin Assassin’s cloudy eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction.
It thought this iron can was tough, but clearly blind!
It lowered its body again, gliding silently like a lizard across the ground, creeping up behind Shi Hanfeng, its poisoned dagger rising toward the armor’s joint.
Unbeknownst to it, every move was crystal clear in Shi Hanfeng’s green-tinged vision—like dancing in a spotlight.
Just as the Goblin Assassin gathered strength for another pitiful sneak attack—
“Sword Blade Storm!”
Shi Hanfeng spun around, mimicking a certain orc swordsman’s signature move, his body whipping like a wound-up gyro for a deadly, high-speed spin.
The heavy Wufeng Sword swept a deep gray arc, powered by centrifugal force.
“Ugh– Puchi!”
The Goblin Assassin’s triumphant expression froze instantly, never even turning to surprise before being cleaved in two by the violent force.
It didn’t even have time to scream, falling to the ground in two-and-a-half twisted pieces, twitching twice before going still.
[Goblin Assassin killed x1]
The prompt flashed by.
At the same time, the oppressive darkness receded like a tide.
Campfire light and armor’s glow returned, restoring the hall’s prior gloom as if the extreme darkness had been a mere illusion.
He flicked non-existent blood from his blade, relaxing his posture.
Lifting his head, he stared at the still-floating green dice, raising his right hand, and extended his middle finger—the universal gesture of goodwill.
“Is that all?”
A clear, mocking voice rang out from behind his mask, echoing in the hall.
“Are your underlings so low-quality? Is this your elite—just garbage?”
The green dice visibly froze, its glow flickering erratically, as if triggered into hormonal imbalance.
The next moment, it seemed slapped by an invisible hand, spinning wildly again.
This time, the speed was so fast that the numbers blurred—a buzzing green phantom whirled in the air.
It spun over a dozen times before staggering to a stop, drained of momentum.
The upward face was a most subtle, almost insulting number.
[One point, you will face the attack of a normal Goblin]
Shi Hanfeng: …
Sorry, he wanted to laugh.
Did the Goblin God not check the calendar before leaving today?
Such atrocious luck was rare.
One point?
Was there even anything lower?
Could there be a hidden zero side?
As the rule activated, a nearby Goblin corpse—killed by Shi Hanfeng earlier—twitched.
Then, like a zombie from a bad horror flick, its joints cracking, it wobbled to its feet.
Its eyes were vacant, wounds still open, dragging a rusty, broken sword as it shuffled toward Shi Hanfeng.
At that speed, even an old lady out for a stroll would outrun it.
Shi Hanfeng didn’t even bother to use his sword.
He simply lifted his foot and kicked forward as if clearing trash from his path.
“Boom!”
His armored boot struck the Goblin “zombie” squarely in the chest.
The explosive force shattered the shambling figure like a pile of blocks, bones snapping and scattering, leaving it motionless on the ground.
” Tsk.”
Shi Hanfeng withdrew his foot, disdain nearly solid in his tone.
“Looks like luck’s on my side today. Is the dice unweighted? Does it feel off?”
He looked up again, gaze full of challenge, and deliberately stretched out the words:
“Is — that — all? God, right? Any new tricks? Or should I accept your surrender and promise not to laugh… for too long?”
“Woo—!!!”
This time, the green dice erupted like a lit powder keg, trembling violently!
Its light, once a steady green, now flashed wildly between green, red, and purple.
The spinning speed soared, becoming a true green cyclone, shrieking sharply.
“It’s panicking, it’s panicking!”
Shi Hanfeng watched with glee, even wanting to grab some sunflower seeds.
The feeling of making a god stomp in frustration while being helpless…
…Hmm, he began to understand the fun of the Laughter God.
As the dice spun at blinding speed, its numbers blurred, but ultimately settled on four.
Then, inexplicably, it flipped again.
[Six points]
Just the number alone radiated an oppressive aura.
Even the rule prompt sounded heavy as it began to declare:
[Six points, you will face a Goblin Demon God—
” Demon God” had barely left its lips when the air in the hall thickened with suffocating weight.
A terror beyond even a Goblin Shaman began to condense from thin air, as if some dreadful being was about to cross the boundaries.
The mocking light in Shi Hanfeng’s eyes vanished.
His gaze grew serious, grip tightening on the Wufeng Sword as the [Life Shield] glowed brighter.
A narrow-minded garbage god, unable to win, now resorted to blatant cheating.
But just as the suffocating aura was about to solidify—
‘Hahaha~ I said, no cheating allowed.’
A voice full of reckless laughter and mischief echoed through the hall.
It didn’t come from any direction—it appeared directly in Shi Hanfeng’s mind, or rather, interfered with the dice-ruled space itself.
With the laughter, the terrifying aura burst like a punctured balloon, vanishing instantly.
On the dice, the nearly solidified [Six Points] was forcibly wiped away by an invisible hand, the number flashing wildly before reluctantly and painfully dropping back to—
[Four Points]
The rule prompt paused, then resumed its icy tone:
[Four points, you will face the attack of a Goblin Paladin]
The dice’s glow stabilized to green, but its flickering carried a sense of suffocated rage.
Shi Hanfeng let out a breath—he might have gotten a little carried away.
He’d almost provoked the ultimate boss.
He checked himself—success had made him reckless.
Reality had given him a lesson, reminding him to respect power.
Luckily, he realized before it was too late.
Besides, it was clear now—there really was a Laughter God watching.
Though I’m not your believer, ah ha, YYDS!
He refocused on the dice, expression turning serious.
Goblin Paladin?
An elite monster from the theater version?
He rolled his neck, the armor producing a faint metallic scrape, and lifted the Wufeng Sword, its tip pointing at the empty space ahead.
“Paladin, huh? Come on!”
“A duel between two Paladins for the joy of the gods!”