Novel Full Chapter 1764: Happy Bugs
Chapter 1764: Happy Bugs
Villain Ch 1764. Happy Bugs
The wind roared again, louder this timeAnd. And far off—
A shadow.
Something huge.
He could feel it.
The kind of boss fight that wasn’t coded.
The kind of monster that wasn’t supposed to exist yet.
Vivian stepped beside him, breathing hard, her hair a mess.
“Well,” she whispered, eyes glittering. “This was foreplay, wasn’t it?”
Zoe limped over, dragging frostbitten tentacles behind her, covered in a mess of ice and fluid. “Yeah. It’s coming.”
Allen cracked his neck.
The snow hissed under their boots as they moved. Caution coiled around every step. The deeper they went, the worse it got. Even the wind felt corrupted. Sometimes it blew backwards, or didn’t affect clothes but made hair whip sideways like the world couldn’t decide on a physics engine.
Zoe broke the silence first. “Okay… not to be the voice of panic—but why does this not feel like normal bug behavior?”
Allen didn’t answer. Not yet. His eyes were scanning the ridge ahead, where the snow turned darker near the base of jagged cliffs.
Zoe continued anyway. “Like yeah, sure, we’ve had bugs before. The Maw? Remember when killing mobs dropped way too many rare items?”
“Happy bugs,” Jane said flatly. “A shower of profit.”
Zoe nodded. “Right! But it was all drops and double XP glitches. This?”
She pointed at the cracked sky in the far distance—where a torn pixelated rift shimmered unnaturally between clouds.
“This is like the map itself is decaying.”
“Feels like a haunted beta,” Alice muttered, brushing frost off her skirt. “I’m more confused about why they didn’t just shut the place down. Kafra could’ve locked the whole zone, done maintenance. What happened to that?”
Larissa chuckled, voice cold like a knife. “They did.”
Alice blinked. “Wait. What?”
Allen finally spoke. “Kafra said ’I’ll open and clean the place for you.’ That ’clean the place’ meant lockdown. We’re the only ones here.”
Alice muttered something under her breath. “Figures. Only we get invited to hell with gift wrap.”
Vivian rubbed her arms. “Also don’t forget… some of our skills are acting weird. Like Jane’s.”
Everyone glanced at the necromancer.
Jane simply raised a brow. “What now?”
Vivian gestured ahead. “Your undead army? The ones that spawned after the last wave? I swear three of them were doing… that weird viral dance?”
Jane turned slightly, and sure enough—off to the side, one of her summoned skeletons did a little hop-hop-twist-kick, as if stuck in a rhythm mini-game from another genre.
“…Goddammit,” Jane muttered. “They were supposed to do ’Corrupted Rush Formation C.’ Not… whatever that was.”
“Bugged animation override?” Alice suggested.
“Or bad taste,” Bella grinned.
Allen didn’t speak again, but his eyes were cold. Focused.
He didn’t like this. Not because it was dangerous.
Because it felt like the system wasn’t the one running things anymore.
They pushed forward.
Eventually, the snow gave way to ice. Translucent, thin in places. The path narrowed, squeezed between cliffs and open air—until they saw it.
A bridge.
Long. Ancient. Seemingly made of frozen glass and black stone veins, hanging across a ravine filled with nothing but static fog. The kind that glitched at the edges like low-quality fire in an old VRMMORPG. It twisted unnaturally, like something alive stirred beneath it.
But the bridge…
Didn’t look… real.
Or rather, not fully real.
Some of the tiles were whole. Solid. Reflected the cold sky.
Others? Half-transparent. Flickering in and out. Cracking with every gust of wind.
Some didn’t even connect to the next tile properly—misaligned geometry floating in the air.
Jane deadpanned. “Well, that’s not cursed at all.”
“Please tell me that’s not the only way forward,” Zoe groaned.
Allen stepped to the edge and tossed a rock onto the bridge.
It landed—
Solid.
Then flickered.
Then fell through.
“Nope,” he said. “Not stable.”
Vivian folded her arms under her chest, cocking her hip. “Alright, boss. Any ideas?”
Allen didn’t answer right away. His eyes scanned the broken geometry, calculating distances, tile behavior, residual flicker delay.
“Shea,” he said at last. “Flight?”
Shea winced. “Wind pressure is off. Currents are unstable. You didn’t notice the last gust? It inverted mid-glide. I almost kissed the ice.”
“Zoe?” he asked next.
Tentacles flexed. “I could cross, but slowly. The cold messes with water cohesion. If I slip mid-momentum, I’m gone.”
“Teleport?” Alice offered. “But the area’s phased. You could land inside a wall.”
“So we can’t cross it by skill,” Jane said. “Only timing.”
Bella stared at the cracked tiles and shrugged. “Or we can just Yeet God’s favorite devil across and call it a day.”
Allen gave her a look.
She winked. “Kidding. Mostly.”
Vivian took a step toward the bridge and tapped a toe against one tile. It didn’t break.
Yet.
She leaned closer and murmured, “This bridge doesn’t want us dead. It wants us to think we’re dead.”
“Great,” Zoe muttered. “Now we’re in a philosophy glitch.”
Larissa whispered, “Or it’s watching.”
Everyone paused.
Allen’s sword hand twitched.
She was right.
That shadow…
It hadn’t moved in a while.
He turned slightly, scanning the cliffs above the ravine.
There—far off. Almost blending into the snow.
An outline.
Massive.
Crawling.
Eyes? Maybe.
It stared without blinking.
Allen felt its weight.
“This isn’t a map issue anymore,” he said softly. “Something’s overriding system behavior. It’s rewriting areas as we move.”
Bella muttered, “Isn’t that illegal?”
Jane grunted. “So is undead necro-twerking, but here we are.”
Allen stepped forward. The bridge pulsed faintly under his boot.
One solid tile.
Two flickering.
He looked over his shoulder.
“Alright,” he said. “We move one at a time. Use freeze-stop intervals. Watch for flickers. If your feet phase, pull back.”
Vivian grinned. “So it’s a trust game. Cute.”
“More like a death game,” Zoe groaned.
Allen stared ahead.
The shadow watched.
Waiting.
He didn’t flinch.
He stepped forward again.
And the bridge began to sing.
A low hum.
Not mechanical.
Not magical.
Almost… a lullaby.
Alice narrowed her eyes. “Okay, now it’s singing. I didn’t sign up for a haunted opera.”
But Allen just kept walking.
One step.
Then another.
Because whatever was watching?
He was going to meet it.
Blade-first.