Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 159
Zhou Qian sat on the mountaintop, ringed by green peaks and unnaturally tall trees. A brook murmured somewhere out of sight; wind threaded through the wood, making the leaves hiss. Zhou Qian, who liked the bustle, looked almost out of place in such solitude. It was rare for him to be without a crowd, rarer still for him to keep silent.
Right now he was perfectly still. The blankness on his face even lent his features a trace of meekness, and in his eyes, there was a hint of child-like innocence—just like when he had first been admitted to Spring Hill Asylum, lying quiet after a sedative injection.
“Do I have to wear the straitjacket? I’ll behave, I promise.”
Whenever he looked up with those bright eyes and said that to the nurses, everyone felt sorry for him.
Now, he looked pitiable again, with not a single teammate nearby. He seemed desperately lonely—and loneliness was the thing he feared most.
Under Priest’s gaze Zhou Qian slowly raised his eyelids and looked over, still expressionless. This was the man who had schemed against him from the very start, yet he pressed every shred of hatred and enmity into the deepest recesses of his heart. That was unusual: when had Zhou Qian ever hidden the malice and ridicule in his stare while facing an enemy?
Priest chuckled. “You’re very wary of me.”
Zhou Qian remained silent and simply met his eyes.
“Understandable,” Priest went on. “I’ve been watching you from the shadows, while you know nothing about me. Even you can feel fear, can’t you?”
Zhou Qian finally smiled. “You flatter yourself.”
Priest smiled indifferently. “I’ll ask you one thing. Have you noticed your stays in this game are getting longer and longer? You’re sinking into the virtual world and don’t want to return to reality, right?”
Zhou Qian leaned forward a little. “And?”
“You’ve lost faith in human nature in the real world yet seek its beauty here. You think you’ve found friendship—even love—so you wallow ever deeper.” Priest asked him, “Aren’t you afraid it’s all just a dream?”
“The game is false, but the feelings between people inside it are real—what should I fear?” Zhou Qian asked. “To kill me you even came in person. If I’d never found that out, wouldn’t that suit you better? So why meet me now—what do you want?”
Priest: “Only to chat.”
That made Zhou Qian laugh again. He recalled how Xu Yang had told him, In my eyes you’re already a dead man. Staring at Priest, he said, “You think I’ll surely die here under your plot, so you’ve rushed in to announce your victory? Can’t wait to tell me I’ve lost?”
“Zhou Qian—” Priest’s face stayed calm. “I truly just want a talk. Suppose you really did die… Don’t you want to know where your soul would go?”
“I’m not dying.” Zhou Qian stared into Priest’s eyes. “So, no thanks.”
“It would be a shame if someone like you vanished completely. All I want is your view on the world. For example—”
Priest changed his question. “Do you believe in hell?”
Zhou Qian cast him a lazy glance and gave no answer.
Priest narrowed his eyes, as if he was reminiscing about some distant past. “Back when I was studying abroad I met a remarkable man. He swore he had discovered hell—a second dimension of life. Reach it, and one might glimpse the true universe.
“Then he really killed himself. Tell me, did he find it?”
As if talking to himself, Priest went on. “He was antisocial but astonishingly intelligent. He must have unearthed some key evidence. So I hypothesized that hell exists.
“I’m not that reckless. I won’t die to seek it—I’ve looked for other ways to touch dimensions beyond reality. That’s how I found this game.”
“It is fairly intriguing. Go on.” Zhou Qian’s expression shifted, as if he finally became interested.
After staring at Zhou Qian for a while, Priest continued, “You’ve seen its brilliance. Each instance has its own timeline. A single Blue Harbor City can spawn countless sub-instances—countless sub-spaces, if you will.
“Legions work the same way. Each can open its own separate space in the game, with an independent flow of time that expands as the legion grows. Tell me, Zhou Qian—doesn’t that look like an ever-inflating universe after the Big Bang?”
He studied Zhou Qian a moment longer. “A god left a game box in the human world. Humans opened it, and the game began in a dimension apart from reality. In that sense this isn’t mere entertainment—the box itself is a universe, capable of spawning infinite spaces. So…
“By analogy with our real dimension, couldn’t we create a hell inside this game-universe?”
Zhou Qian lifted his eyes and locked gazes with him. He heard him say, “Instead of searching for hell, why not simply build one?”
The wind rose, sweeping dust over the mountains and tossing Zhou Qian’s hair. Facing the wind, the arc on his mouth raised even wider. “I thought players here all wanted to become gods or have God grant their wishes. I never thought you wanted to be the King of Hell. What if hell already has a king—won’t he blame you for stealing his job?”
Priest said, “Zhou Qian, I told you this so that when you die and become a ghost you can enter the hell I construct. Feel free to list any after-death requirements. I’ll accommodate them if I can.”
“I’m curious,” Zhou Qian suddenly asked, “what’s the point? Do you mean to become the King of Hell like in legends and rule life and death?”
“Life is full of suffering—birth, aging, illness, death; parting from loved ones, meeting those you hate, desires unfulfilled… If I command hell, I can reunite with the ones I care about in another form, no longer fearing separation.”
A flicker of regret crossed Priest’s eyes. “You’ve tasted a grief beyond words—I thought you’d understand. But it seems I have forgotten one thing just now—
“You’re ill. You hardly feel pain. You have no fixation on life or death. Bai Zhou knows this—won’t he be sad?
“People like you, Zhou Qian, are heartless.”
“Is that so?” Zhou Qian didn’t seem to be angered by his words. He just smiled and said, “I know what I feel for Zhou Ge and I’ll let him feel it too. Our relationship can’t be affected by an outsider’s judgment, nor do I owe a stranger any explanation. I just think—
“You envy me, don’t you? You can’t bear someone’s departure and suffer for it. You wonder why I don’t.”
“In fact, Priest, it’s not that I don’t care that I don’t act like I’m in pain. I simply believe I’ll find Bai Zhou one day and take him back to reality. You’re different.”
His gaze turned glacial as he sneered, “Priest, you’re actually a coward.
“You can’t accept a death, so you want to build hell? Yet if you’re so sure hell exists, why not go there yourself? Kill yourself like your friend did.”
Mockery glittered in his eyes. “If Bai Zhou truly died, I’d scour heaven and earth to bring him back. What do you think one of my exchange wishes in this game is?”
Called a coward, Priest still looked serene. “No, you’re mistaken. My partings aren’t about romance or kinship. You may not grasp it, but I do this out of… compassion for all the living.
“The real hell is said to teem with horrific punishments. Its time is painfully slow where souls are tormented for millennia.
“The hell I create won’t have that dread. In fact… it could be called heaven, a blissful paradise for the dead.”
“Farewell, Zhou Qian. Next time we meet will be in the hell I’ve made. I hope you’ll like it.”
As Priest said this, he turned around with his lantern and disappeared without a trace along with he light. It was as if a film had ended and the screen went black.
Silence resumed atop the mountain—only Zhou Qian remained.
A priest should guide souls to God, yet this one wanted to rule a “hell”.
Staring coldly after where Priest had disappeared, Zhou Qian spat, “Hypocrite.”
Build a hell inside the game, imprison dead souls into what you call eternity—who do you think you are?
After a moment’s frown his eyes deepened. Hunches pieced from scraps had just been confirmed—Priest truly thought Zhou Qian would die and had let slip far too much.
Ignoring him, Zhou Qian focused and shared vision with Little Dragon.
At once he scowled:
Gao Shan, in ghost form, had crept beside an old manor—likely the Violet Team’s base—and arrived just in time to see Qi Liuxing leave with Ke Yuxiao.
What was Qi Liuxing doing—taking advantage of the situation to do a deep infiltration on the Peach Blossom Legion? And what did Ke Yuxiao want by taking him there?
Gao Shan could tail them with Little Dragon so Zhou Qian might learn Peach Blossom’s numbers—a key for the final puzzle.
However, Gao Shan didn’t dare bring Little Dragon too close so Zhou Qian couldn’t see too clearly nor hear what they were talking about, which made him quite worried about Ke Yuxiao’s actions.
but he dared not close in. Zhou Qian saw little and heard nothing, so he still worried.
……
On the other side, Qi Liuxing’s words had indeed swayed the two henchmen Xu Yang had left. One, apparently Xu Yang’s deputy, thought him reasonable: he not only freed Qi Liuxing but personally escorted him to the Peach Blossom’s lines.
Past Violet territory, Qi Liuxing saw players with green wristbands: Peach Blossom’s domain.
Once there, the deputy turned back. Ke Yuxiao ignored him, studying Qi Liuxing. “That speech surprised me. You’ve grown.”
Counting the green players and using the system panel to read which belonged to Peach Blossom, Qi Liuxing didn’t look up. “Why bring me here?”
“You wanted to kill me, right? I’m offering a chance to coordinate with Zhou Qian.” Ke Yuxiao grinned.
Qi Liuxing ignored him and kept counting.
Seeing his action Ke Yuxiao couldn’t help but say, “You’re curious how many we brought?”
Realization dawned on him. “I see. You think counting us will reveal the instance’s cap? Impossible—you underestimate the system. You will never get the ‘max’ number of people the instance can bear by counting our numbers.”
Still no reply from Qi Liuxing. Ke Yuxiao said, “Look, I’m not stopping you, am I? I can even show you our whole territory. You can count heads at will, and then…
“Well, I was teasing—you won’t help Zhou Qian kill me.
“You’ll just watch as we surround him and he dies. I want you to witness that with your very own eyes. It’ll be beautiful.”
The hum of a word suddenly rang out. It was made by the sword in Qi Liuxing’s hand reacting to his fury.
But then it fell silent as he sensed something strange.
Why had Ke Yuxiao’s personality shifted so much?
He was now eccentric, manic, childish—unlike the refined, composed man he knew.
How could this person in front of him now completely disguise himself as another person?
After a beat Qi Liuxing asked, “Where’s your flute? I’ve never seen you play it.”
After a moment of shock, Ke Yuxiao blinked. “I know what you’re after. I’ll never tell you.”
Smiling roguishly, he shoved a gun to Qi Liuxing’s head and herded him into a little cabin. “Stay put. Others aren’t as lenient as I am. You’re still wearing a violet wristband. They will shoot if they see you. As for the flute—”
Narrowing his eyes he smiled and said, “When Zhou Qian dies I’ll play a dirge on it.”
“The one who dies will be you.”
Qi Liuxing tightened then loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
The old him would have thrashed Ke Yuxiao on the spot, but now he swallowed it and even his eyes showed little ripples, but the hatred in them was plain.
Ke Yuxiao saw it and smirked. “Tsk. I wonder… if he knew you could look at him like that, how would he feel?”
“He? Who?” Qi Liuxing frowned.
“No one. Someone long… dead.”
Ke Yuxiao kept smiling.
Then he eyed Qi Liuxing up and down. “The golden feather resurrected you, but replaced your heart with metal. You’ve really changed a lot. It’s a pity… I never got to taste your flesh stewed in that soup.”
Provoked, Qi Liuxing quelled his anger. Ke Yuxiao was deranged; better not draw a bullet. Instead he grabbed a table and smashed it at Ke Yuxiao.
Ke Yuxiao barely dodged letting the table shattered behind him. Backlit by swirling dust he glanced at Qi Liuxing. “These cabins link together. Don’t underestimate them because they are small. Many murders happened here. You should investigate.” After he finished speaking, he slammed the door.
Before he left, he summoned someone from the Legion. “Keep an eye on him.”
The man peered in nervously. “You didn’t change his wristband?”
“You have a gun—handle it,” Ke Yuxiao said.
The man swallowed his saliva and hesitated for a moment before boldly saying. “Priest said we recruited them as insurance.
“Although they don’t have guns, they still have lethal weapons… Physical attacks are hard to block…”
“Your bullets outrank his sword. What’re you afraid of? Bullets decide fights,” Ke Yuxiao said.
“But bullets are limited…”
For Peach Blossom, bullets had to be used sparingly. At the same time, they wanted to round up as many players as possible in the shortest time while staying efficient. Killing a handful to set an example, then forcing everyone else to swap wristbands, was the most effective method.
Once the remaining players changed bands and joined the green faction, they could no longer attack green-band Peach Blossom members. They could only bow to the dominant force and hunt for clues.
That was far more efficient than holding guns on the off-color players and driving them to find clues by brute force. The latter carried much greater risk: if those differently-banded players got scheming, they could become impossible to guard against.
Even if a Peach Blossom member drew first and shot them, the Legion would still burn through more bullets than they spent on the initial “kill one to warn a hundred.”
Hence the guard truly didn’t understand why Ke Yuxiao refused to make Qi Liuxing change wristbands and even dumped the dangerous job of watching him on him.
“I hear you want to make squad leader.” Ke Yuxiao looked him up and down. “If you can’t handle something as simple as guarding this guy with a gun, what makes you worthy of staying in the legion?”
The man: “ ……”
“I just don’t want to share his color. This way I can kill him whenever I like. Got it?” Ke Yuxiao said coolly and walked away.
The man: “…………”
—People always said Ke Yuxiao was eccentric, now he looked utterly unhinged.
……
On Purple Mist Mountain’s summit, Zhou Qian, sharing Little Dragon’s sight, roughly counted how many Peach Blossom players had entered the instance and finally got the answer he wanted—an answer Qi Liuxing had risked his life for.
Early on, when everyone gathered to analyze the game, Zhou Qian had floated the idea that the Peach Blossom headcount itself might be the key. However many they brought in would practically hand them the solution.
Reality had proved him right, especially once he learned Priest had entered the instance in person.
The situation was now obvious: Peach Blossom had shipped in a great crowd to kill him, and Priest was the mastermind behind it all.
Every step was calculated, and he knew the rules inside out. The number of people he could bring in was never random—it was meticulously planned.
Sure enough, Qi Liuxing had seen not just a few but a great many Peach Blossom troops on his way in.
With that, Zhou Qian gained a clearer picture of how the late game would unfold and immediately sent his thoughts to Little Dragon.
In a secluded spot Little Dragon nestled in Gao Shan’s arms, tugged his collar, and chirped, “Yip, yip, yip…”
After much flailing it got its point across; Gao Shan slipped away at once, racing the clock to carry out Zhou Qian’s orders.
……
At the same moment, Violet base camp.
After leaving the office block, Xu Feiyu led Hidden Blade and He Xiaowei here. A sprawling old manor occupied a wide area; once confirmed safe, it became Feidu Legion’s temporary base.
Few people were inside.
Xu Feiyu ushered them in and straight to a bathroom on the third floor.
The manor showed a medieval English style: garden, fountain, everything once in place.
However, with age and no upkeep, the flowers had long died and the fountain no longer sprayed; yet strangely, the whole interior was saturated with a heavy rose scent.
The sofa, wooden staircase, carpet—every piece of furniture lay under thick dust. Only the ground floor showed signs of cleaning—Feidu’s handiwork.
From the second floor up everything was untouched, dust blanketing floorboards and stairs, crossed by messy footprints.
Even before reaching the bathroom, Hidden Blade smelled blood in the air. Clearly Xu Feiyu had scouted already. She strode in, yanked back the shower curtain, and Hidden Blade and He Xiaowei saw the bathtub full of bright red blood.
Hidden Blade asked on the spot, “Logically everyone here has been dead for centuries—how can the blood still be this color?”
“That’s what you two need to figure out. We’ve checked top to bottom—it’s safe. The place is huge, so for now it’s our rally point, our base, if you will.”
Xu Feiyu smiled at them. “God-level player and his disciple—please dig out the secret. How did the killer work, what’s their MO?”
She waved and headed for the door.
Just then the sound of gurgling water was heard. Xu Feiyu immediately turned around while Hidden Blade and He Xiaowei also looked in the same direction. The blood in the bathtub seemed to be boiling, as if it were being cooked. Smal bubbles popped on the surface, and down below, a dark organ-shaped mass seemed about to emerge.
The author has something to say:
Ming Yue to the New Universe: Not here—don’t @ me.
Just a little Easter egg.
For those you haven’t read the first two books, it’s not an issue—everything will be explained in this novel.
P.S. Lots of readers ask when it’ll finish. The main plot is about to hit its climax and wrap up, but I still have a couple of extra instances and bits of lore I want to cover.
Let me know—would you rather see the ending sooner, or not?
Kinky Thoughts:
This is actually book 3 (out of 4) in this series, though you do not need to read Book 1 and 2 in order to understand it and all characters in book 3 are independent of the first two books.
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
Kinky Translations 