Rules for Raising a Tentacle Monster - Chapter 1

My name is Jiang Ning.

If Heaven ever gave me another chance, I would make damn sure to finish that slice of red velvet cake before entering the dungeon.

Seriously.

Then I would not be facing this scene of utter public humiliation.

The thing in front of me was called Xie Yan.

At least, that was what the dungeon description called it.

It was the master of this castle, the guardian BOSS of the S-rank dungeon *The Crimson Banquet*, and the monster currently staring at me with a gaze that made my scalp prickle.

Its upper body just barely maintained a human shape.

It wore an old-fashioned Victorian tailcoat buttoned all the way to the throat, giving it a refined, almost ascetic air.

But above the neck, it had no face.

There was only a roiling mass of dense black mist.

Two points of scarlet light flickered inside the mist from time to time, as though studying my expression.

As for its lower body…

Those were not legs at all.

They were eight or so thick, slick, black tentacles, all of them constantly writhing.

They spread across the floor like an enormous hunting net, cutting me off completely from the other players.

The four remaining players had already huddled in the farthest corner of the banquet hall.

A brawny man named Dawei clutched an ax that did not even have a sharpened edge. His legs were shaking like sieves.

Another player, a girl named Lili, had covered her mouth and was dry-heaving.

Half a minute ago, Xie Yan had used those tentacles to crush the head of a player who tried to ambush it, as casually as squeezing a grape.

Blood had sprayed everywhere.

Then it had turned around.

Ignored everyone else.

And glided straight toward me.

My back was against the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt ready to leap out of my throat.

I thought I was going to die.

I closed my eyes and waited for the pain.

Instead, something cool brushed the corner of my mouth.

It was the tip of a tentacle.

The texture was strange, like gelatin fresh from the refrigerator—slightly wet, slightly cold, but very soft.

It gently skimmed the corner of my lips and slowly curled away the cake crumbs I had been too frightened to swallow.

I opened my eyes.

One of its tentacles held the dinner knife that had just cut through a human head. A piece of cake was now speared on it, and the knife was held to my lips.

“Baby, no picky eating.”

The voice seemed to vibrate out of its chest, carrying the grainy texture of an antique gramophone.

A little hoarse—and, damn it, incredibly attractive.

If I ignored the fact that it had just killed someone, its tone could even be called doting.

I froze.

To eat or not to eat?

That was the question.

If I ate it, I might throw up.

If I refused, I might die.

Trembling, I opened my mouth.

The cake was pushed inside.

The cream was a little cloying. Mixed with the stench of blood hanging in the air, the flavor was truly unforgettable—in the worst possible way.

I fought back my nausea, chewed twice, and swallowed.

The black mist above me seemed pleased.

The two red lights curved into a pair of smiling eyes.

“Good boy.”

It extended a tentacle and lightly patted my head.

The force was controlled perfectly, as though it were petting a terrified kitten.

The other players were dumbstruck.

Dawei’s ax hit the floor with a clang.

His mouth fell open so wide his jaw nearly came unhinged.

His eyes might as well have had three huge words written across them:

That works too???

I stared at Xie Yan.

Only one thought occupied my mind:

Dude, who the hell are you?

Are we close or something?

Honestly, there was no denying that the monster was terrifying.

But the cool, gentle way it stroked my head somehow stirred a familiar warmth deep inside me.