It was rare for so many people to gather in the backyard of the small church. When Ying Feng buried the peach pit here, it took many years before it grew into a small tree over a meter tall. Ying Feng had been searching for information related to it for years, but to no avail.
“Is this the Soul Tree you mentioned?” Red Head was the first to express doubt. “It’s bare without even a single leaf.”
Bing Can also found it strange. “Why would the Soul Tree grow in the backyard of the church where Ying Feng lives?”
“It’s because the seed was personally planted by Ying Feng.” After hearing Ling Xiao’s words, everyone collectively turned their gaze towards Ying Feng.
Ying Feng himself was clueless. “Me? Are you sure it’s not Xiao Hui?”
The nearby gray wolf, upon hearing this, quickly shook its head to show its innocence.
Ying Feng recalled carefully. “Could it really be that peach pit?”
He suddenly thought, since Ling Xiao was his lover in a past life, could it be that the peach pit was left by him?
“In the past, in order not to let the military plant the seed on another planet, Ling Xing stole it from the Lone Star and gave it to me. I placed the seed in Ying Feng’s energy pod, so he has been carrying it since his awakening.” Ling Xiao briefly summarized the backstory.
Ying Feng was shocked to hear that it was Ling Xiao who had placed it in his energy chamber. Knowing the consequences it could bring, he wondered what Ling Xiao must have felt doing so.
“So you didn’t know what it was and just carried it with you? But such an important thing, why did you bury it?” Red Head complained.
Ling Xiao, of course, couldn’t admit it was out of jealousy. He rubbed his nose and glossed over the question. “The main point is that it’s good that it wasn’t lost or planted elsewhere. We’ll move it back to the base and see if the lighthouse can sense it. Then we’ll know if it’s really the Soul Tree.”
Fu Yao had already received reports from his subordinates. After the lighthouse went out, the weaker fledglings showed signs of soul traction. These fledglings probably couldn’t survive long without the lighthouse. The urgent task was to immediately relocate the Soul Tree.
“What if the enemy sees the lighthouse light up again and becomes suspicious? What if they launch a massive attack?”
“That won’t happen.” Ying Feng was very certain. “In this attack, they must have deployed all their forces and expended a lot of resources. I guess they won’t be able to create new warriors in a short time, and those who have reincarnated, even if they wake up, will need at least ten years.”
Fu Yao nodded in agreement with his words. “So we must relocate the Soul Tree to another hidden place within the lighthouse’s range, a place not easily found by the enemy. The military has also suffered great losses in this battle, and it’s permanent. We will have to work very hard to meet the upcoming challenges.”
Action-oriented Ling Xiao had already brought a shovel and carefully began to dig around the Soul Tree, revealing its roots.
Everyone watched his actions intently, afraid of any mistake. Only Ying Feng at that moment suddenly said, “So it’s actually you who’s the dog that wants to dig it up.”
Ling Xiao: “…Woof.”
Red Head looked around, confused. “What kind of riddle are you playing?”
The pits Ling Xiao dug for himself in this life were more than just this one. He could only comfort himself by thinking that he was a true hero for daring to jump into them.
The once crowded backyard was instantly left with just the two of them. Even Xiao Hui had disappeared somewhere. Ling Xiao’s attention was drawn to the bright red acacia on the ground. When Ling Xing and the others lived in the church, these flowers weren’t here.
“What flower is this?” Ling Xiao asked.
“Acacia. We bought them when we were interning on Wolf Star. After so many years, they bloomed for the first time.”
Perhaps knowing that the person who planted them was thinking of returning, it turned out that flowers also had their own spirit.
“Did you plant all these?” Ling Xiao looked around and indeed found many more varieties. He now understood why the usually indifferent Ying Feng had a special fondness for plants and could depict those flowers and plants so vividly in his paintings. It turned out it was all influenced by Ling Xing in the past.
“Mm.” Compared to Ling Xiao’s wandering gaze, Ying Feng’s eyes were firmly locked on one person.
“By the way, where are you living now?”
“Right here.” Ying Feng pointed to the window of his room.
“You live in the room once occupied by Ling Xing and the others?” Ling Xiao was surprised. “Why didn’t you go to the military? Why stay here?”
“To wait for you.”
Ling Xiao, who had accumulated four thousand years of experiences to share with Ying Feng, was eager to learn about everything that happened to Ying Feng over the years. However, all these seemed insignificant now, compared to the simple answer he received. All he wanted now was to pull that person close and gently bite on his chest as payback for the grievances he endured over countless lifetimes.
When he regained his senses from the passion, he realized that they had moved from the backyard to the room. Both of their chests were heaving, and their clothes were disheveled. Ling Xiao’s gaze lingered on Ying Feng’s reddened lips, hardly believing it was his own doing.
The door slammed shut, and Ling Xiao leaned against it, holding Ying Feng’s neck, panting and asking, “Why didn’t we lose control?”
“I don’t know.” Ying Feng kissed Ling Xiao’s face lightly, like a dragonfly skimming water, repeating this action with each answer. “Maybe because we’ve already gone through the coming-of-age ceremony once. Every Tianxiu person only loses control once in their lifetime.”
Ling Xiao, tantalized by Ying Feng’s actions, moved in for more, but the latter kept dodging, continuing to tease him on his cheeks, infuriating Ling Xiao so much that he gripped Ying Feng’s neck tightly.
“Then do you think we can trigger the coming-of-age ceremony again?”
“Let’s try and see.”
After saying this, Ying Feng finally stopped his teasing movements, found Ling Xiao’s lips, and kissed him fiercely. Ling Xiao responded intensely, turning passivity into dominance. The two finally found their rhythm, starting a new round of intimacy. The passion ignited the air in the cramped space, raising the temperature. In the chaos, they moved from the door to the bed. Unfamiliar with the surroundings, Ling Xiao stumbled, quickly reaching out to steady himself on the nearest object.
“Don’t touch that.” Ying Feng quickly tried to stop Ling Xiao, but it was too late. Suddenly, Ling Xiao’s projection appeared in the center of the room, and simultaneously, Ling Xiao heard his own voice. “I will soon undergo a treatment…”
“This is… isn’t this…?” Ling Xiao froze, taking a while to realize. “Isn’t this the memory recording I made before my treatment? Did Dr. Heng He give it to you?”
“Yes.” Ying Feng could only admit at this point.
Ling Xiao, looking at his past self, was filled with emotions, envisioning a life with a person and a wolf in this small room. “Have you been watching this all these years?”
Ying Feng, probably not wanting to mention the days without Ling Xiao, turned it off, but Ling Xiao was a step too late to stop him.
“Why turn it off? I haven’t watched it yet.”
“You’re here now, why would I need to watch your video?” Ying Feng dominantly grabbed Ling Xiao’s restless hand. “I’ve memorized its content. I can recite any part of it for you later.”
“Mmm,” after a forced exchange of a kiss, Ling Xiao managed to request during a breath, “I want to hear all of it.”
“Every single word.”
Ling Xiao received a satisfying answer. The room’s only bunk bed was within arm’s reach, only a few steps away, yet the two were breathing heavily and disheveled as if they had been through a battle. This passionate side of Ying Feng made it even harder for Ling Xiao to remain calm. With a forceful push, he toppled Ying Feng onto the bed, following quickly and straddling him. Due to the limitations of the bunk bed, he had to lower his head significantly.
“You’ve already been the Qizhu, now it’s my turn.”
Ying Feng remained unmoved. “It all depends on our abilities.”
Ling Xiao was full of energy. “You know, even when leaping through time, I never slackened in my training, all for this moment.”
“Really? I thought you were more concerned about your colored contact lenses,” Ying Feng said, pulling him down by his collar. “Let me test the results of your training.”
Ling Xiao, taking the upper hand, bit and nibbled on Ying Feng, suspecting even himself of possibly having bitten Ying Feng’s lips. He said intermittently and unwillingly, “That’s because in every lifetime, you’ve defeated me in the coming-of-age ceremony. Not once did you let me win. It’s simply unbearable.”
“Well, I admit you won when we first met,” Ying Feng bit down hard on Ling Xiao’s tongue and then let go, cheekily adding a qualifier, “for ten minutes.”
Ling Xiao’s hands were already restlessly hovering over his target, seemingly choosing the perfect spot to bite. “I’ve never tasted the blood of your heart. Today is the day I avenge my past.”
After saying this, his hand pressing on Ying Feng’s shoulder secretly exerted force, determined not to give Ying Feng a chance to turn over.
“Is that so?” Ying Feng said, slightly lifting his head to take Ling Xiao’s earlobe into his mouth, biting it gently with the tip of his teeth. Just this action made Ling Xiao stiffen and then collapse limply on top of him.
At this moment, Ling Xiao’s limbs were soft, all his strength dissipated, and his years of hard training were of no use. This little habit of Ying Feng during climax triggered all his body’s memories, not to mention the repeated releases that had already conditioned him to this action.
“You… You…” Ling Xiao’s face was flushed, whether from anger or rising desire.
Ying Feng hugged him tightly and flipped their positions, taking control. Ying Feng embraced the immobile Ling Xiao with utmost affection, kissing from his mouth down his neck to his collarbone, his other hand already unbuttoning several buttons unknowingly.
“Shameless, using such despicable means!” Ling Xiao had no chance to react and was completely defeated. He had been ambitious to compete with Ying Feng but was conquered by such a simple trick, his only remaining strength in his mouth refusing to admit defeat.
“Habits are a terrifying thing, aren’t they?” Ying Feng moistened the skin where he was about to claim, having once bitten here unwillingly and made this person his. It seemed like compensation for their regrets. This time, they could finally trigger the coming-of-age ceremony with love for each other.
“You’re terrible! You’ve dominated me for four thousand years!” Ling Xiao protested with his last bit of effort.
“Then let’s continue for another four thousand years.” Ying Feng arched his body upward and threw his head back with a low growl. When he lowered his head again, his canine teeth had become incredibly sharp.
This was the first time Ling Xiao witnessed the transformation during the coming-of-age ceremony, and he couldn’t help but be stunned.
“Be mine again.”
Ying Feng lowered his head forcefully, and his sharp fangs pierced deeply into Ling Xiao’s chest.
A total of eleven people walked into Hall C, subsequently entering a new virtual game instance. However, since two players chose to stay at the hotel, only nine players followed the tour guide, who was waving a small red flag, out of the hotel and boarded a minibus.
Driving through the fog-thickened city, they arrived five minutes later at the “Fluttering Dream Tattoo Shop.”
This was an enormous tattoo shop, almost akin to an art exhibition center. Inside the vast space, all four walls were adorned with exquisite tattoo designs. To the shock of all players, they recognized the material below these designs—it was human skin.
On one of the walls hung a particularly stunning piece: An entire human back of a beautiful woman.
The upper portion of the wall showcased a painted neck and strands of hair in oil paint, while the lower portion, the spine, was made of real human skin.
On this skin was painted a phoenix, its feathers meticulously detailed in shading, color, and gradient. It looked as though it was about to take flight in the next moment.
However, it could never rise from the ashes again. Its original owner was dead—not just dead—their entire back was skinned to become a specimen for a human skin tattoo.
Zhou Qian then looked towards the center of the room.
There were many glass display cases, all filled with various human skin tattoos. Different cases showcased tattoos with varying pigments. Surprisingly, one tattoo even had the texture of embroidery on human skin, giving the work a macabre beauty.
At this moment, all the players probably had the same thought—
Why are products made of human skin displayed so openly?
Suddenly, Zhou Qian approached some display cases to inspect them closely. He then turned to look at the wall in front of him. He noticed a detail—none of the human skins bore the “卐” symbol.
The players’ journey into the tattoo shop was led by their tour guide. Two employees, a man and a woman, guarded the area, but the rumored tattoo master hadn’t appeared yet.
After scanning the surroundings, Zhou Qian’s gaze landed on Bai Zhou, who was observing a piece of human skin.
The flamboyantly dressed tour guide sashayed over, saying, “Little Brother, do you like this skin? If you do, I can speak to the master for you. Maybe he’ll gift it to you. Hee hee.”
Before the guide could get close, Bai Zhou retreated a considerable distance, not even looking at him but focusing on another skin piece.
Zhou Qian approached him, laughing. “It’s just an NPC. Why are you avoiding it? It’s not like it’s some kind of evil spirit that’s going to eat you.”
Bai Zhou gave him a playful look, asking, “What kind of description is that?”
Zhou Qian didn’t respond, attempting to put an arm around Bai Zhou, but was quickly stopped by a wrist grip, which was then released.
What was Bai Zhou’s deal?
Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes, trying to figure him out. He noticed Bai Zhou had turned back to observing the tattoos. His face was expressionless.
Frustrated, Zhou Qian snapped, “You’re acting so serious now. You still haven’t told me what you did after you turned into a dragon last time.”
As soon as Zhou Qian finished his sentence, he noticed Bai Zhou’s previously calm expression didn’t change, but his posture became tense. It looked as if he was suppressing something.
Many times, Zhou Qian couldn’t understand Bai Zhou’s true intentions or what he was thinking. Now, he suddenly realized that if he just followed his intuition, maybe he would get answers when Bai Zhou could no longer hold back.
But now was not the time for that. So, Zhou Qian left Bai Zhou and approached the wandering tour guide.
He tapped the guide’s shoulder, asking, “What’s the deal with these human skins? Don’t the police care?”
The guide replied, “Are you joking? Why would the police care about this?”
Pointing at the phoenix tattooed back, Zhou Qian asked, “Where did this skin come from? That entire back…”
“It was done willingly!” the guide explained. “Whether from Blue Harbor city or tourists from elsewhere, everyone highly respects the master!”
“Who would want to be skinned alive?” He Xiaowei, having overheard, interjected. “Once you remove the skin, can they even survive?”
“Do you think this is a slaughterhouse?”
The person speaking wasn’t the guide but a man with an androgynous appearance.
He had long hair that reached his waist. His face was beautiful, and his eye makeup was striking, with colors as varied as a peacock’s feathers.
Through the system interface, they learned his name was Chang Shu, the owner of the shop and the tattoo master.
Emerging from the back workshop, Chang Shu said, “I’m an artist, not a butcher.”
Pointing at the phoenix tattoo, he revealed, “That skin was from my first love.”
He Xiaowei muttered to himself—”Damn, in this era, do murderers look so innocent and straightforward that they just confess?”
The next moment, he heard Chang Shu say, “She was diagnosed with a terminal illness. When she got the medical results, she said she hoped she could be reborn like a phoenix through fire. Even if it couldn’t be realized… she wanted to die beautifully.”
“When she was still healthy, her parents wouldn’t let her get a tattoo. She was afraid of being seen as a rebellious child in their eyes. But with the terminal disease, she no longer cared.”
“When I tattooed the phoenix on her myself, she was very satisfied. She said it’s a piece of art and shouldn’t be buried with her when she dies. Hence, leaving this skin behind was her request. Of course, this is my most cherished piece, and I won’t sell it. You can just look.”
He Xiaowei wore a skeptical expression and asked, “What about the other human skins? Where did they come from?”
“They were all willingly given to me. Some people’s skin is naturally suitable for such craftsmanship. When I tattoo them, I ask if they’d be willing to leave their skin to me after death. If they agree, I won’t charge them, but they must leave their skin to me after death.”
“We sign contracts. If someone dies of old age, their skin will no longer be beautiful, and I won’t want it. Besides, I might be dead by then too.”
“But if someone dies unexpectedly, I’ll retrieve the skin with the contract and bring it back.”
“I have many customers. So, having the skin of many who died young isn’t unusual.”
As Chang Shu spoke, he approached the group, scanning each one.
“Not everyone’s skin is suitable for such artwork. Perfect skin is rare—”
The tattoo artist stopped in front of Bai Zhou and seemed amazed, saying, “Your skin…ha, it’s amazing! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such perfection—”
Before Chang Shu could touch Bai Zhou, he was struck by a bone.
In this instance, the players’ abilities and weapons were restricted. Zhou Qian couldn’t unleash the full power of his Rib of God but using it as a mere stick to hit someone was more than enough.
“Stay away from him.” Zhou Qian glared at Chang Shu and coldly warned. He didn’t even know if that strike hurt, as Chang Shu seemed entirely lost in excitement and obsession.
“Such perfect skin… is ideal for craftsmanship. It doesn’t seem human. It’s too perfect…”
“Please, let me tattoo you!
“Your skin is awe-inspiring…”
Zhou Qian stepped forward to shield Bai Zhou, confronting Chang Shu, “Rare to find skin suitable for your art, is it?”
“Of course, it’s very rare,” Chang Shu replied, shifting his gaze from Bai Zhou to Zhou Qian. “Actually, your skin is not bad either. But you’re still human. The one beside you don’t seem like one…”
His eyes became even more obsessed. “Ah, this one is also special… I’m really lucky today. Haha, both of you have unique skins.”
“Please, let me tattoo you. I won’t force you to sign anything. Just let me feel it…”
Hmmm… Chang Shu singled out Bai Zhou and Hidden Blade.
Can NPCs identify which are Rank God players?
Zhou Qian quickly messaged Bai Zhou privately. “Will you follow my lead?”
Bai Zhou looked at him and nodded.
Zhou Qian then turned to the tattoo artist Chang Shu and said, “The one with the special skin is my brother. He’s afraid of pain. Let us discuss.”
“Sure, take your time. I hope you can appreciate my art and let me try on… their skin. When you’ve decided, find me in my workspace! I’ll wait no matter how late.”
Chang Shu left with an eager glance at Bai Zhou and Hidden Blade.
Tour Guide Hua remarked bitterly, “Hmph…I’ve never heard him talk so much. I had to beg* for my tattoos.”
*Begging grandpa and telling grandma. Colloquialism referring to the lengths someone goes to in order to achieve a certain result.
Zhou Qian asked him with a smile, “If you didn’t bring customers here, he wouldn’t tattoo you?”
“What kind of question is that?!” Tour Guide Hua glared at Zhou Qian angrily and walked away.
After a while, the tattoo shop was silent, with no more customers coming in.
The four members of the Invincible Legion stood together in a corner. Chen Dami kept following his boss, Batu Fei, and there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about the two of them.
However, the other two were different. Perhaps due to their experience with Zhou Qian in the earlier instance that saved them from Ruan Mei’s hand, they occasionally glanced at Zhou Qian, always watching his movements. It seemed that they intended to follow whatever Zhou Qian did.
As for the skinny guy who had been to Hall D, he initially didn’t stick with anyone. But he probably noticed the difficult nature of Batu Fei and the others, so he approached Zhou Qian and asked, “Can I join you?”
Zhou Qian nodded noncommittally, then went back to examining the human skins. At this moment, He Xiaowei whispered, “Qian’er, what do you think?”
“Blue Harbor City is a normal society with police and law. For a tattoo artist like Chang Shu to openly display the skins of people he’s killed… Do you think that’s reasonable?” Zhou Qian began, “So, even though it sounds incredulous and feels like an urban legend, what Chang Shu said might be true. There are people who greatly admire this tattoo art and are willing to dedicate their skin to him after death. It’s possible.”
He Xiaowei asked, “Hmm, he might not be a killer. But wouldn’t a killer target those with tattoos?”
“Yes, but also no.”
At this point, Zhou Qian had browsed the entire store and looked at every skin. A suspicion in his mind was gradually taking shape.
After examining all the skins, Zhou Qian approached a clerk and asked, “Can I make a call?”
“Yes.” The clerk led Zhou Qian to the front desk and handed him an old-fashioned landline phone. Picking up the receiver, Zhou Qian looked towards Tour Guide Hua, near the entrance, and asked, “What’s the phone number for the Saiya Hotel?”
Tour Guide Hua had been rebuked by Zhou Qian earlier and now looked very displeased, rolling his eyes without saying a word.
“Heh, you were so arrogant earlier, speaking to me so rudely. I bring tourists like you here, and I don’t earn much from it! Do you think I enjoy catering to your every whim?”
Hearing this, Zhou Qian didn’t show much reaction. However, He Xiaowei gave him a look that seemed to say, “See Qian’er, you still need me.” He hurried over to Tour Guide Hua and said some flattering words to him.
Tour Guide Hua looked at He Xiaowei. “Want my help, huh? It can be arranged.”
He Xiaowei nodded eagerly. “You tell us, and we’ll do whatever we can.”
Tour Guide Hua immediately cast a flirtatious glance at him. “Little Brother, give me a kiss, and I’ll tell you.”
He Xiaowei: “…”
Tour Guide Hua continued, “If you’re not willing, other handsome guys can do it too. Whoever kisses me, I’ll tell.”
He Xiaowei complained to Zhou Qian, “I have the worst luck. Last time, they wanted me to marry a ghost. Now a man wants me to kiss him.”
He Xiaowei wasn’t pleased and whispered to Zhou Qian, “My love life is truly filled with obstacles. Last time they wanted me to marry a ghost, and now there’s a guy asking me to kiss him.”
“Just give him a peck. It’s no big deal,” Zhou Qian suggested.
He Xiaowei retorted, “No way. Qian’er, we share a deep bond, true. But I can’t sell my dignity for you! Not happening!”
“Just imagine he’s a girl!”
“That still won’t work! Whether it’s a man or a woman, it’s not happening! I have principles! If there’s no feeling, it’s a no!”
“You’re right. We shouldn’t take such things lightly.”
“Exactly!”
“If you’re not going, should I?”
At this, Zhou Qian playfully looked over to Bai Zhou, who was not too far away. “Zhou Ge, how about you?”
Bai Zhou slightly furrowed his brows, looking like he was about to do something.
Hidden Blade, standing nearby, reacted with alarm. “Holy crap, my god! Once your knife is out, doesn’t it always draw blood? Let me handle this!” Before finishing his sentence, Hidden Blade had already drawn his sword.
With a flash of his knife, the back of the blade was quickly pressed against Tour Guide Hua’s neck.
Lifting his chin, Hidden Blade stared coldly at Tour Guide Hua. “Are you going to tell us or not?”
Choking back tears, Tour Guide Hua responded, “Fine, no kiss, but why are you pointing the knife at me?!”
Hidden Blade remained silent, pressing the blade closer to Hua.
With tears streaming down his face, Tour Guide Hua eventually stuttered out his phone number.
Zhou Qian clicked his tongue twice. “I almost didn’t catch the number he said—”
“You Rank God players are way too violent.”
Directing a meaningful glance at Bai Zhou, Zhou Qian chuckled, but without further delay, he picked up the phone to make a call.
Seeing this, He Xiaowei curiously approached Zhou Qian and eagerly asked, “Qian’er, why are you calling the hotel?”
Zhou Qian didn’t answer.
At this moment, his expression turned serious. He made a gesture of silence towards He Xiaowei as he heard a voice from the other end of the phone. “Hello, Saiya Hotel.”
Zhou Qian didn’t immediately pose his question but instead listened quietly.
Sure enough, he heard some commotion, as if many people were entering and leaving the hotel, shouting loudly.
Afterwards, Zhou Qian asked, “I’m a guest who checked in on the 11th floor this afternoon. Has something happened at the hotel?”
“How did you know?” Receptionist Wang drew a sharp breath and asked in surprise, “Did you do it?”
“Of course, it has nothing to do with me,” Zhou Qian replied. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“It can’t be unrelated to you guys! Two people are dead!” Receptionist Wang retorted. “Just so you know, you can’t run away. Everyone has to return to the hotel tonight for questioning. The police are waiting for you!”
Sensing that Receptionist Wang was about to hang up, Zhou Qian quickly asked, “Wait. The two people who died are—”
Receptionist Wang interrupted, “The two who came with you! Their blood seeped out from under the door onto the corridor. That’s how someone found them. When I used the keycard to open the door, I saw… It’s horrifying! The killer is absolutely ruthless!”
Zhou Qian further asked, “How did they die?”
Receptionist Wang responded, “How would I know?”
“Were their heads covered with nylon bags? Were their hands and feet tied?”
“No.”
“Alright, got it. Thank you.”
Zhou Qian hung up the phone.
Earlier, when the players noticed Zhou Qian making the call, they all gathered around.
While talking to Receptionist Wang, Zhou Qian deliberately held up the phone so everyone could hear their conversation.
Everyone’s faces turned pale. The thin guy completely broke down. After all, the two individuals from Hall D were his acquaintances. The sudden deaths of two familiar faces caused him to drop to his knees, shivering all over.
Zhou Qian gave him a glance and signaled to Bai Zhou and He Xiaowei with his eyes. Then, he started heading towards the back workspace.
“Wait—” The one who called out to Zhou Qian was the bald guy, Batu Fei.
He asked, “What do you mean?”
Without responding, Zhou Qian continued walking. Batu Fei stared at his retreating figure for a moment and then ran after him.
“Stop!”
“You thought to make that call and guessed that those two players died; does this mean you’ve already figured out the key to clearing this instance?”
“We all heard your conversation with the tattoo artist earlier. Are you going to him to get a tattoo now? Why?”
Zhou Qian paused, turned to look at Batu Fei, and surprisingly began to explain, “In Hall C, there are clearly two murder methods. If I’m not mistaken, there are two killers. One skins people, and the other puts nylon bags over their heads and beats them to death.
“As of now, the clues we’ve found likely relate only to the tattoo killer. So, let’s not analyze the nylon bag one for now.”
“In this case, if we only look at clues related to the tattoos, it’s actually not that complicated.”
Zhou Qian continued. “I don’t think the tattoo shop owner, Chang Shu, is the killer. I’m inclined to believe him. That is, after someone who got a tattoo at his place dies, he would collect their skin, bring it back to the shop for display and memory, and for some rare pieces, to sell.”
“So, the one who kills and skins people is someone else.”
“The key to distinguishing the two is that none of the skins in this shop have the ‘卐’ symbol on them.”
Batu Fei couldn’t help but ask, “But the designs on these skins are all so similar… The victims must have gotten their tattoos here, right?”
“Tour Guide Hua kept emphasizing one thing. Did you hear it? He said many people love the tattoos here. Shop owner Chang Shu claims that these are all works of art and that he’s creating great art.”
“I don’t know about art, but this tattoo shop is famous enough to be a tourist attraction. I saw many brochures about Blue Harbor City at the front desk, and the city promotes this tattoo shop as a tourist spot. Although Tour Guide Hua might have been exaggerating to attract business, he wasn’t making it all up.”
“Furthermore, the fact that so many people choose to leave their skin here… shows that the value and artistry of this tattoo shop have been recognized to some extent.”
“Therefore, it’s reasonable to infer that the killer also appreciates this kind of art.”
“Since it’s confirmed that two players have died, we can rule out Chang Shu. He’s been here the whole time.”
“Similarly, we can rule out Tour Guide Hua.”
“So, the killer is a hunter lurking in the shadows. He might be inclined to target those with beautiful tattoos, especially the clients of this shop. But then the question is, why is Tour Guide Hua unharmed?”
He Xiaowei caught on quickly and said, “Tour Guide Hua has the ‘卐’ symbol tattooed on his hand!”
“Right. Tour Guide Hua said this symbol can ward off evil and protect oneself. It appears that this symbol does offer protection, but it’s against people, not ghosts,” Zhou Qian said. “The killer won’t target someone with a ‘卐’ on them.”
“Hold on. I have a question,” He Xiaowei interjected. “The serial killer targets people with tattoos. If someone has a ‘卐’, he won’t kill them. I get that. But…”
“Why did he kill those two players? They didn’t have tattoos!”
Zhou Qian: “Simple. It means we’ve been thinking about this wrong. Whether the killer chooses to kill someone doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with tattoos.”
“Someone with a tattoo might catch his attention more easily, leading to them being targeted since he appreciates the beauty of tattoos. But I believe the killer doesn’t exclusively target people with tattoos. We don’t yet know his exact criteria; it might even be random killings.”
“Wait… hold on a second,” He Xiaowei continued, still puzzled. “The skins in Hall C and the hotel room all have the ‘卐’ symbol! How do you explain that? This doesn’t add up, Qian’er.”
“There’s a contradiction here. If the killer doesn’t target those with a ‘卐’, how do you explain the decorations we saw?”
“The answer is simple—the ‘卐’ symbols in the hall and hotel rooms were added by the killer, not the tattoo artist,” Zhou Qian replied.
He Xiaowei was taken aback. “Wait, what?”
“As for your two questions,” Zhou Qian continued, “there’s one theory that can explain everything—”
“As I just mentioned, the decision to kill isn’t necessarily based on whether the victim has a tattoo.”
“However, after killing, if the killer sees a tattoo on the victim, he might decide to skin them for decoration. In some sense, this is just a coincidence. Moreover, he would then add a ‘卐’ symbol to the tattooed skin.
“We don’t know the exact reasons for the killer’s actions, but one thing is for sure—if the intended victim already has a ‘卐’ symbol, the killer won’t target them.”
After digesting this information for a moment, He Xiaowei finally understood. “That’s pretty eerie. But in Buddhism, the ‘卐’ symbol is considered auspicious, right? Both ‘卐’ and ‘卍’* have positive meanings… they can protect us. So it seems like the killer is Buddhist?”
*Clarity: The symbol is a Swastika and carries many meanings depending on the religion, though it is usually a symbol of divinity and spirituality and is associated with good fortune. In Buddhism, it’s homologous with the dharma wheel, which symbolizes the eternal cycle. In Sanskrit, the word means “the mark of wellbeing”. Unfortunately, the Nazi party and neo-Nazis appropriated the symbol, which led to negative association with it.
“But, if he is, why would he kill?”
“He doesn’t necessarily believe in Buddhism, but in something else,” Zhou Qian said gravely.
“What does he believe in?” asked the bald man, Batu Fei.
“In Buddhism, the swastika symbol can be represented in two directions. The Nazi swastika, or hook cross, is the unique right-facing ‘卐’. Just like what we see.” Zhou Qian spoke up. “Have you heard the rumor? During World War II, the Nazis made lampshades out of the skin of prisoners in concentration camps.”
Upon hearing this, He Xiaowei and Batu Fei both exclaimed, “Fuck…”
“This symbol is also the emblem of the Nazi Party, but its color and angle are not exactly the same as the swastika in Buddhism. The ‘卐’ we see now is directly engraved on human skin. We can’t make out its color or angle. So, I say it might not be a Buddhist symbol; the killer might worship the Nazis.”
Zhou Qian continued, “With this in mind, everything makes more sense. The serial killer, who worships the Nazis, kills for fun. When he wants to attack someone and sees the ‘卐’ symbol on them, he considers them kin and doesn’t harm them. But if someone doesn’t have the symbol, he will be ruthless.”
“After killing, if the victim has an attractive tattoo, he imitates what the Nazis once did, cuts off the tattooed skin, engraves a ‘卐’ on it to express his beliefs, and finally, using some chemical methods of preservation, makes decorative items out of the tattooed human skin, just like in Exhibition Hall C.”
He Xiaowei asked, “Damn, if we go and get a ‘卐’ tattoo, does that mean we’ll become Nazis?”
“No, don’t feel burdened by that thought, Xiaowei.”
“It’s all about perception. We can view it as a Buddhist symbol for peace and luck.”
Zhou Qian comforted He Xiaowei briefly but kept a thought to himself. He had a bad feeling—could the entire Saiya Hotel become a concentration camp for the hidden butcher?
Zhou Qian took a few steps forward, then suddenly looked back and saw Batu Fei and his three underlings following. Zhou Qian smiled and gestured for them to stop. “Wait, what do you want?”
“Obviously, to get the tattoo artist to ink a ‘卐’ for us!” After saying this, Batu Fei felt uneasy.
Batu Fei looked at Zhou Qian, who was smiling pleasantly. “It’s not that simple. Have you listened to the tour guide? Master Chang Shu tattoos based on fate and mood. Even if you’re willing to pay a high price, he might not agree. However—”
Before Batu Fei could respond, Zhou Qian moved to Bai Zhou’s side. Like showing off a mascot, Zhou Qian presented Bai Zhou, saying, “The tattoo master said earlier that my brother’s skin is the most beautiful canvas! He was begging him for the chance to tattoo him. So, if my brother vouches for you, the master will definitely agree.”
Zhou Qian smiled innocently, but Batu Fei saw through his intentions. Trying to swallow his anger, Batu Fei hoarsely asked, “How much do you want?”
“Ah, Boss Ba! I enjoy dealing with smart and tactful people like you!” Zhou Qian said with a contented smile, then continued, “Look, it’s not that I’m taking advantage of the situation. You wanted to kill me on the beach! You accepted the bounty from the Peach Blossom Legion! I’m worried. I’m now helping you avoid danger. But after this… what if you try to kill me? Hand over all your money and items!”
Hearing this, Chen Dami, one of Batu Fei’s loyal followers, stepped forward, furious. “You’re not trying to help us, you’re trying to—”
“Indeed, if I don’t explain things clearly to you, you won’t understand.
“If you don’t understand, how will you obediently hand over the gold coins and items?” Zhou Qian hugged Bai Zhou’s arm even tighter and tilted his head toward Bai Zhou’s shoulder.
He then looked at Batu Fei and the others with a smile. “We’re about to get the symbol tattooed now. You should make your decisions quickly. I advise you to think broadly. In this kind of instance, items are not really that useful. As long as you have a future, you can always start over. A fortune spent can be earned back, right?”
“By the way, to emphasize, I want all your items and gold. Don’t even think about hiding any.”
“I have a pill that makes you tell the truth. This item won’t be affected by the instance’s restrictions. Later on, I will interrogate each of you to see if you’ve handed everything over honestly! If anyone lies or tries to hide something, I’ll send you straight to your death.”
With that, Zhou Qian, pulling Bai Zhou, gestured to He Xiaowei and Hidden Blade, and the group, along with a thin man from Exhibition Hall D, walked into the back room.
Inside, Master Chang Shu’s eyes lit up with excitement upon seeing Bai Zhou and Hidden Blade. “Oh my god, have you agreed?”
Zhou Qian took the lead. “Yes, but with a condition. We’ve heard a lot about you and want some tattoos too. Can you engrave us first?”
“Of course! As long as I can tattoo on their flawless skin, anything!” Chang Shu replied excitedly.
Zhou Qian offered his left arm. “I’ll go first. Carve a ‘卐’ for me.”
“No problem. You’re staying at the Saiya Hotel, right? That place is haunted. Having this will be beneficial.”
With that, Chang Shu began preparing.
Bai Zhou moved closer to Zhou Qian, silently offering his right hand.
“What for?” Zhou Qian asked.
“In case it hurts, you can hold onto me,” Bai Zhou replied.
Zhou Qian chuckled. “You think it’s like getting vaccinated in elementary school?”
Bai Zhou remained silent, just gazing at Zhou Qian. Zhou Qian looked back, then suddenly realized something significant.
What Zhou Qian thought of wasn’t related to the specific instance but rather the entire game.
Zhou Qian had to admit, Bai Zhou’s skin indeed looked good. However, he genuinely felt that Hidden Blade’s skin was rather rough.
Moreover, with so many players, why would the tattoo artist specifically think that only their skin was good for tattooing?
And, even if they hadn’t brought it up, given that everyone knew they were staying at the Saiya Hotel, the tattoo artist would probably have suggested tattooing a “卐” on both of them.
This boldly suggested that such a situation existed because the instance was protecting the Rank God players.
In the game world, the training system for Rank God players was entirely different.
Things related to them in reality were also quite complex, like Zone X in the Spring Hill Mental Asylum.
Unlike regular players, the cultivation of Rank God players seems to require a very high cost.
To allow Rank God players to match and practice with trainee Shepherds, the system had to place them in such instances to sync with the Shepherds.
At the same time, to prevent them from suddenly going berserk and slaughtering other regular players, their abilities were forcibly limited upon entering such an instance.
But since cultivating Rank God players was tough, the system naturally couldn’t allow them to die easily. So, these instances favor Rank God players to ensure their survival rate.
From this, it could also be seen that the system had different training directions for different players. Bai Zhou and Hidden Blade could demonstrate formidable combat power in the game. As for players like Zhou Qian, it seemed that most of the training probably focused on mental strength.
Noticing Zhou Qian lost in thought for a while, Bai Zhou lowered his head and asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Sitting in the chair, Zhou Qian looked up at Bai Zhou and smiled, “Nothing. I just feel that you could be my lucky charm for clearing levels.”
Finishing his words and without looking at Bai Zhou again, Zhou Qian extended his right arm to the tattoo artist Chang Shu and said, “I want the letter ‘Z’ here.”
Hearing this, He Xiaowei, standing behind Zhou Qian, yawned. “Haha, now I get it. The ‘Z’ stands for ‘Zhou’ in Zhou Qian!
“Look, Qian’er, I always said you have an alternative style. I’ve seen people do this, tattooing their names on their arms, but that was when I was in junior high! What adult does this?”
“Of course, in junior high, some would tattoo their boyfriend’s or girlfriend’s name on their arm. But Qian’er, I know your situation. You’re single, just like me!”
Kinky Thoughts:
Regarding what Zhou Qian said, it seems the Nazis did create lampshades made from human skins… along with other human skin artifacts, though it seems that this was only one instance and there weren’t any systematic efforts by the Nazis to make human skin lampshades.
The shadow wolf was still carrying the unconscious Dia Blanco in its mouth, whining softly. Teest remained still, and the siren, drenched in sweat, showed no intention of running away.
“What?” The rumbling sound of collapsing almost drowned out Teest’s question.
“Go, Teest,” Nol urged.
He summoned a skeleton dragon and climbed on it. He no longer cared about his wounds. Every bit of mana was now precious.
Teest didn’t speak for half a minute, then finally said in his usual tone, “How much mana do you have left?”
“Just enough to not ensure your safe departure,” Nol replied. “I told you, I won’t let you die here.”
“Well, there’s no choice then, and I didn’t plan to die here today either.” Teest shrugged, his golden eyes still greedily fixed on Nol.
“So there’s no way,” Nol said, tugging at the corners of his mouth, wincing as he touched his neck wound.
[You know what to do, right?] He intentionally turned his sentence into a telepathic message. Maybe this was their last chance to use telepathy, Nol thought.
[Of course, keep going amidst the collapse and jump down using the debris,] Teest answered without hesitation. [First try to run as far as possible. If things look bad, abandon these guys and teleport out.]
[Sounds perfect,] Nol responded.
The person he liked was the Mad Monk. This once was his greatest dilemma, now his greatest fortune—Teest had given him faith, and faith didn’t require the “object of belief” to be by his side.
“Goodbye, Teest,” Nol said. “I hope we have the chance to meet again.”
Nol hesitated, not mentioning the gold wheel.
How wonderful it would be if he really died here. It could become his tombstone. But if Teest wanted it back, he wouldn’t stop him.
Their relationship had always been like this, hadn’t it?
Teest examined Nol, from his tired face to his battered body, especially around the heart area. Finally, Teest stepped back half a step, nodding politely.
“Goodbye, Nol,” he said.
The explosions had reached a level that shook mountains, and the surrounding corruption boiled and bubbled wildly. The skeleton dragon spread its wings and plunged into the darkness.
On the platform, Teest still hadn’t moved while the shadow wolf whined anxiously beside him. The siren’s face, which had been filled with panic, now showed no fear as he leaped off the wolf’s back.
“Please leave, unique Chosen One.” He knelt halfway, his words full of devotion and passion.
Wings belonging to a dragon emerged from his back as the fabric on his back fluttered wildly, accompanied by the sticky sound of flesh stretching. The siren—or perhaps he shouldn’t be called a “Siren”—Fischer spread his arms, his face full of smiles, without a hint of panic.
“If you don’t mind, I can take you away from here.”
Teest glanced at him. “A Supplement Demon. Did you eat one of your own kind?”
“A small trick, My Lord. We have a few ‘Paradise monsters’ back there.”
Fischer smiled and lowered his head, his eyes no longer youthful but rather cunning like an old man’s.
“High Priest Fischer Reginald, at your service.”
High Priest, a position second only to the Pope, with only two in the entire church.
Teest couldn’t help but look at him again, already figuring out how to deal with this guy.
…But he just didn’t feel up to it.
“Lord Crimson failed, so now I’m responsible for bringing you back. You are very important to us.”
Seeing Teest’s lack of enthusiasm, Fischer continued aptly. Both ignored the rapidly collapsing platform around them, as if it were just a light drizzle on a sunny day.
The collapse accelerated, but the explosions below became slow and weak. Nol must be trying to handle it.
‘With the little mana he had left, who knows if he could succeed,’ Teest thought irritably. And here he was, with a High Priest buzzing in his ear, annoyingly distracting.
“We always act together. That monster was taken down by him just now. How are you so sure it’s me?” Teest said absentmindedly, “I’ll tell you a secret: actually, he is the Chosen One of your god. He just jumped down. You still have time to follow him.”
“You’re joking, but I have my ways of judgment.” Fischer leaned forward, his posture respectful.
“Since you’ve come to me, I admit, I was the one who burned down the Immortal Church of Grape Collar.” Teest raised his hands, really wanting to kill something. “I super hate you guys. It would be better to fight sooner rather than later.”
…That time, he kissed Nol under the blazing church. Teest remembered Nol’s expression at that time, preferring to see that expression again rather than this guy before him.
Would he never see it again?
“It was you who burned it, then it’s God’s will, the predetermined fate,” Fischer said gently.
“How cooperative,” Teest muttered, playing with his sword, his other hand quietly clutching a ball of gold thread. “Even if I’m the Mad Monk, you still want to take me back to your den?”
“I had my suspicions.” Fischer smiled, his already striking eyes protruding even more. “If you like torture, I will bring every high-ranking member to you. If you want power, I can personally help you cut off the Pope’s head… If you seek the truth, we are willing to pave all the paths for you.”
“Just come back with me and admit you belong to the Eternal Church.”
Wow. Teset’s eyebrows twitched.
Compared to these guys, he thought his mental state was great, not understanding what Nol was dissatisfied with before…
Nol reached out to him in the midst of the blue flames, saying he needed him. In this relationship, Teest always felt he would be the first to leave, but in the end, Nol left first.
In the end, Nol still guessed his choice—that guy always guessed his thoughts.
It wasn’t fair.
Teest moved a step to the left, avoiding a particularly large collapse. The stone platform tilted slightly, shaking violently. The shadow wolf shivered, nudging Teest’s back with its mouth.
“This is not a place for a long talk. Please allow me to take you away.”
In the endless darkness, Fischer opened his arms to Teest, his gaze as devout as if welcoming the Eternal Son’s own son.
‘The vicinity is no longer safe,’ Teest thought casually. He needed to find out how Fischer found him. Next, he could kill this guy directly, or use him to destroy the Eternal Church, or…
Teest twirled his hair ends, listening intently. The base of the stone platform was clean, signifying the collapse was nearing its end. The corruption hadn’t spread, and the area near the chasm was still silent. Nol was still holding on.
Realizing this, Teest felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Everyone here likes to sigh, making me want to sigh too.” Teest walked towards Fischer, muttering. “Let’s go. You don’t know what you’ll catch if we stay longer.”
“At your command,” Fischer replied joyfully. “I promise, I will safely take you away from here.”
…Someone had promised before.
One step—Teest’s heartbeat was a bit chaotic.
Small explosions began to occur below the chasm. Had Nol fallen, or not?
Two steps—he wondered if his nerves were stuck to the soles of his shoes. Otherwise, why would each step feel so awkward? He was always looking for an invisible hand.
The wedding ring still hung on his chest. He seemed to have gotten used to its weight.
Three steps… Teest couldn’t help but sigh loudly. A nameless anger was bouncing in his chest.
Damn it, how could Nol dare to leave him so easily?
“Do you know?” Teest stopped in his tracks. “Someone once told me that some people’s emotional connections are like ‘sickness’. When nothing happens, it only feels ordinary.”
Fischer looked at him confusedly.
“I didn’t understand it at the time, and I think you won’t either,” Teest said. “Let me put it in a way you can understand—”
The “Betrayer” was enveloped in full murderous intent. A bright light flashed. Too close to react, Fischer was bisected by the light that cut from head to toe. One half of him wobbled and fell, while the other half barely stood.
“—I haven’t done my evening prayers yet,” Teest whispered into the ear of the half-standing person.
The stone platform completely collapsed.
“Ben, run!” Teest pushed off the falling stones. The shadow wolf, taking advantage of the stone’s shadow, scampered away towards the side of the rift. Teest, however, pushed downward, plunging into the darkness.
The inexplicable heaviness and sadness fell with the stones, leaving Teest feeling unusually light.
…And annoyed.
If Nol was already dead, he wanted to witness his death with his own eyes to complete the final evening prayer. If Nol wasn’t… well, they would first deal with this damn problem, and then he would properly unleash his anger.
As Teest was contemplating this, a white light suddenly exploded in the darkness.
In the next instant, before he could dodge, he fell directly into someone’s embrace.
…..
A while back, Nol sat on a skeleton dragon, hovering in the middle of the rift.
The explosion’s black smoke obscured everything, and the air was filled with murky corruption. Nol, enduring the discomfort, raised his magic staff without hesitation.
Blue flames burned fiercely, rapidly expanding the circle of fire. With Nol at its center, it spread out in a perfect circle beneath the floating castle.
Beyond the circle of fire, a dark gray sea covered in ice appeared. Thus, in the deep night, amidst the rift and the collapsing castle, a circular ocean emerged.
It was the icy frontier at the edge of the Endless Sea from Nol’s memory—where the ice was a thousand feet thick and the seawater remained stagnant all year round, theoretically causing the least impact.
The falling corruption hit the ice layer and quickly froze into black and red ice blocks. With no more corruption colliding from above, the explosions in the chasm below him gradually subsided.
Save me, save me, save me…
The source of the corruption continuously steamed up from the bottom of the rift, causing Nol’s head to throb with noise.
Save me, save me, save me…
The mana of “The Complete Recipe Book” was down to 3%. The stone platform above continued to collapse slowly, and worse, he could still feel Teest’s presence.
Why is that guy still there?
Nol’s head was spinning, and his whole body was in pain. But as soon as he tried to catch his breath, the circle of fire violently constricted, and large debris falling into the rift nearly blew away Nol’s skeleton dragon.
Now with only 2% mana left and a third of the castle still above, Nol wondered what Teest was up to… What happened to being the most reassuring?
Nol gritted his teeth, forcing himself to expand the circle of fire. The debris striking the distant frozen sea made a teeth-grinding impact and cracking sound.
“Kando, if you want to live, I’ll throw you out of the rift later.” Nol squeezed out the words through clenched teeth, sweating profusely. “Just giving you a heads-up…”
“You’re calmer than I expected,” Kando replied slowly after a while.
“My life’s flashbacks are about to come out. I have no time for panic.” Nol gave a bitter smile, trying not to look at the dark abyss below. “To throw, or not to throw?”
“You know very well, you might not last until the end.” Kando glanced at him with its one eye.
“Just answer the question. Will you die?” Nol couldn’t care less about manners now—he was almost at his limit. Why hasn’t Teest left?!!!
That guy might not care about getting hurt, but he wasn’t one to give up on life easily. Could it be some trick by Fischer. Damn it, did he leave too early…
“Let me see until the end,” Kando whispered softly.
1%.
The skeleton dragon couldn’t hold up and disintegrated into fine bones. Nol struggled to stay mid-air, watching his mana drain away rapidly. “The Complete Recipe Book” turned gray quickly, showing signs of breaking at the edges.
‘This is the end,’ Nol thought.
Facing this disaster, he did his best, and even if he had to do it all over again, he couldn’t have done better.
He was true to himself, and the neighbors in The Manor could continue to sleep in the system. As long as they were alive, there was hope.
He could give up.
Coming to this dangerous world, Nol had prepared himself for death. If he couldn’t make it back… it would be like encountering a car accident or sudden death.
He had to give up.
The Lost Tower was taking shape. Witch Lynn and Officer Luo were smart people, and they had connected with Anakin… It didn’t matter if he wasn’t there.
Let everything come to an end. He was about to let go of that pressure and…
Damn, why hasn’t Teest left yet?!
If he gave up here, that guy would definitely be affected.
He couldn’t die yet.
Nol almost crushed a tooth as he switched the source of his mana from the “Dragon Corpse Notebook” to the “Lich’s body”. The body of a Lich itself was magical material, so it could do the job!
The mana of “The Complete Recipe Book” quietly stayed at 1%. Nol’s legs began to vanish.
‘Hurry up and leave,’ Nol frantically thought to himself, his eyes fixed in the direction where Teest was.
The circle of fire voraciously drained his mana, and Nol’s legs began to turn to dust. Then his waist, his abdomen. In the dark void, only half a person hung there, like many other remnants.
Hurry up and leave. Get away. Didn’t we agree not to sacrifice our lives?
As the erosion reached his chest, Nol switched the source of mana to his left arm.
‘I can’t lose the gold wheel in my chest. I can’t throw it away,’ he thought dully. Losing most of his body, Nol’s HP plummeted, and his thoughts became increasingly blurry.
The castle’s collapse seemed endless.
Just one more second, just a little longer. He had to let Teest leave, to let the person he liked survive…
His left arm vanished, then his shoulder, his right arm. Finally, the Staff of Sacrifice pierced through the crumbling “The Complete Recipe Book”, inserting itself into the gaps of his bones.
Only a head and a heart with a coin embedded in it remained suspended in mid-air. Nol thought he could end quietly, but at this moment, he struggled so hard.
They were so close. How could he let go?
“Of course, I will follow my god, as long as we’re always ready to flee.”
Nol remembered. When he said this, Teest was standing in the sunlight, smiling happily at him.
But he left Teest in the darkness.
Nol began to burn the remaining flesh, tongue, vocal cords, eyeballs. He stubbornly preserved his head and heart—he hadn’t yet said sorry. There were things he still needed to figure out.
…Why haven’t you left?
“Hey,” Kando suddenly said.
“…Hm?”
“Bite me.”
“…Huh?!”
“I admit it. You win! We’ve come this far. I can’t just watch you perish.” The black candle grumbled. “Just bite—ow!!! Damn it, why are you so harsh!”
Nol, in a daze, bit off a tear of the candle. The black candle instantly shed a few more tears, blinking desperately.
‘It’s useless,’ Nol thought. [Fallen Death] required eating corpses, but since the candle asked, he might as well take a bite…
A “ding” notification sounded.
Almost in the same second, the system’s prompt eagerly boomed into Nol’s ears.
[You have met the special evolution condition.]
[You have achieved: Full level of the “Lich” race; Carrying dragon remains for 1,000 hours; Possessing dragon skills; Granted flesh and blood voluntarily by dragon lineage.]
[Special race “Dracolich” evolution unlocked. Do you wish to evolve?]
Was there even a choice? Nol’s mind was a mess. He couldn’t remember information about the Dracolich.
But it didn’t matter. The Mad Monk was clinging to his mind. Even if the system asked him to evolve into a four-cornered chicken, he’d go for it for that one-time “evolutionary state recovery”.
“Yes!” He silently screamed, still fiercely maintaining the circle of fire.
The blue fire turned into a near-white pale flame. The white light instantly broke through the darkness. “The Complete Recipe Book” completely turned into light particles, merging into Nol’s body. Light threads emerged from the void, wrapping his remaining body into a cocoon of light.
It was painful. Every part of his body felt as if it was being ground and then reforged. For a moment, his body became immensely large, then gradually shrank, taking on a human form.
Nol’s torso and limbs fully recovered. His hair grew absurdly long, hanging down towards the chasm, blown about by the storm.
“Thanks, Kando!” Nol shook his head wildly. He felt horns on the top of his head, but he wasn’t quite sure… Whatever. It wasn’t important. He was still alive!
Nol was fully restored. His pitiful 100 MP instantly drained, but now he had this body—
As a magical material, the Dracolich, compared to the Lich, was like rocket fuel to coal briquettes.
Nol, burning his newly grown long hair, sustained the falling that was nearing its end.
The white light dispersed, and his eyes turned into vertical pupils, fixedly staring in the direction of Teest. After the light, a familiar figure dove down—following the last remnants of the castle, Teest plunged straight downward. There was blood splattered on him, and his eyebrows were filled with anger.
Nol’s heartbeat had never been this fast.
To hell with life, loyalty, and love. Watching Teest rapidly approaching, his hair stood on end from the thrill.
Nol timed the moment and retracted the circle of fire, catching Teest in his arms. Their bodies collided, and the familiar warmth blended together. The sense of fulfillment after death felt like rebirth.
He had to admit defeat. Nol tightened his arms, not wanting to let go, and he wouldn’t ever again.
“You promised me a bonus. You can’t back out now,” Teest seriously demanded as they fell.
“Sorry, I didn’t think… What?” Nol almost bit his tongue.
It was still the same—the Mad Monk he knew.
Nol couldn’t help but laugh out loud, hugging Teest’s waist, rapidly crashing into the depths of the chasm.
“Aren’t you going to slow down? If you’re intent on crashing, then I’ll teleport away.” Teest clung to Nol as the darkness rapidly enveloped them.
“Don’t go. I’ll compensate you with two rewards.”
Nol grabbed Teest’s long hair. With a swish, the wings of the Dracolich opened, protecting them both in the middle.
“Let’s hear them.” Teest felt the base of the wings.
“The first,” Nol looked towards the rapidly approaching bottom of the valley, “to wrap up this disaster and verify the truth below. The rest, once we leave here together, I’ll tell you.”
He emphasized “leave here together.”
“Alright, you…” Teest was about to continue when his lips were suddenly caught by Nol’s.
It was a kiss.
“I need you. I like you. I swear I won’t leave you behind.” Nol held the person in his arms tightly. “Will you still come with me, Teest?”
“Of course.”
Those blue eyes still shone brightly. In the midst of the fall, Teest closed his eyes contentedly.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered softly.
……
Nol deliberately controlled their speed. It took them about five or six minutes to reach the bottom of the cliff.
It was pitch black, but fortunately, they both had night vision. Teest carefully wrapped himself in magic, standing firm amidst the surging corruption.
He hesitated for a rare moment. “This is…”
Beside him, the relaxed look on Nol’s face completely disappeared.
In front of them lay the remnants of at least two civilizations.
Part of it resembled the castle, sparkling with a strange white glow, its shapes shockingly symmetrical.
The rest looked newer in material but more ancient in design—golden flying eaves, crimson walls, and scattered blue stone bricks. A carved wooden round table and white folding chairs lay toppled together, utterly out of place even to Teest’s unfamiliar eyes.
They clearly came from different civilizations.
“Nol…”
“This isn’t from Earth.” Nol gazed at a relatively intact piece of ancient architecture, murmuring dreamily. “It looks similar, but it’s not… The real dynasties didn’t have this form. There are many creative beautifications, like…”
“…like Tahe.”
Corruption slowly flowed over his feet, but Nol seemed oblivious. He caressed the fragments, his voice frighteningly soft.
Alien weapons, modern text. Nonexistent architectural forms from Country C, remnants with a sense of technology that seemed even older.
…Apart from “Earth” related, there was another possibility. How could he have forgotten?
These are two “works”.
Two already destroyed stories, lying quietly in their graves, leaving only their remnants.
As the sky began to darken, Eugene, dragging his injured leg, got up for his evening prayers.
He regularly ate his three meals a day, even though their supplies consisted only of bread, water, and salted meat. After eating, he would complete his knight training as usual. Whenever he recovered a bit of magical power, he used it all to heal the wound in his abdomen.
Damori curled up at the base of a half-collapsed wall, covered with several blood-stained blankets, trying to reduce his consumption through sleep.
Knight Marion stood despondently at the edge of the stone platform, looking down into the bottomless chasm below.
The darkness was like a crack in the world. Staring at it for too long, one’s thoughts seemed to be sucked into that unreal blackness. Every few seconds, Marion had to look up at the castle above.
The castle was shrouded in fog, more silent than a grave. However, this time, when Marion looked up, she saw the castle’s spire blown off. The evening sun shimmered on it, resembling a violently extracted fang.
She jolted. “Captain!”
Damori opened his sleepy eyes, and Eugene lowered his sword. Inside the castle, a colossal silver-white object emerged, struggling in the air, clearly battling something.
Unfortunately, their view was obscured by clouds, allowing them only to see a rough outline.
Eugene narrowed his moss-green eyes, a fervor in his gaze.
“As expected,” he said. “God wants us to witness all this.”
Above in the sky, beyond the clouds, the two challenging the “monster” were far from calm.
Upon giving the answer that “the Demon King’s corruption is the corpse of a god,” the Lord of The Manor—Zhuang Shuhang “stood” up.
His mountain of trash-like body continuously extended from the base of the stage. Nol watched as the shadow grew taller and taller. What they had seen earlier was just the tip of the iceberg.
The black-red flesh interwoven with relics of civilization, grotesquely swollen and endless, made the embedded Savage Giant Witch seem minuscule. Now, the Lord of The Manor looked not like a centipede but more like a mutated ant queen.
The Lord of The Manor raised his hand and pointed. Five embedded weapons on his body activated.
Five beams of light shot towards Nol from different directions, and Nol hastily retreated. He clumsily raised his rocket launcher, firing at the opponent’s mountain-like body.
Admittedly, as an office warrior, Nol’s aim was disastrously bad. He kept firing non-stop, the crystal energy depleting rapidly. The Lord of The Manor didn’t relent. The sounds of explosions and destruction drowned out all else, painfully reverberating in their ears.
With the castle’s top gone, the bright blue sky suddenly pressed down. The highest clouds were thin, with sunlight pouring down, making everything terrifyingly bright.
Amidst the roaring artillery fire, Teest tried his best to jump onto the Lord of The Manor, attempting to sever the latter’s upper body from the monstrous frame. However, each time he swung his sword, a strange barrier repelled his blade.
The Lord of The Manor was like an efficient killing machine—appearing damaged and cumbersome, but actually impregnable.
The Lord of The Manor fired around the hall, bullets and beams sweeping everywhere. If not for their quick evasion, their bodies would certainly have been shattered into pieces.
Nol leaped from his spot, the explosion’s hot wind at his back, releasing his grip as the heavy launcher fell to the ground with a thud.
The launcher’s crystal was completely depleted, but the Lord of The Manor’s relentless attack didn’t slow in the slightest. In the past hour, they hadn’t managed to inflict any significant damage on the Lord of The Manor.
No wonder the Lord of The Manor had them come directly to him—he and Teest had defeated two neighbors, and Zhuang Shuhang had no intention of following the usual tactics. He came out swinging, ready to deal with them for good.
“Stop dragging this out,” Zhuang Shuhang said listlessly as a beam of heat left a deep mark on the wall. After the attack, black-red corruption oozed from the damaged area, emitting billowing black smoke. “This is just a waste of time. Just let me kill you nicely.”
‘Deadly situation.’ Nol thought. ‘This guy’s state is also off.’
As a leader, the Lord of The Manor had no interest in even the most basic negotiations; he seemed fixated only on slaughter and destruction.
But no matter. Nol suddenly leaped up, rushing to Test’s side—his goal had already been achieved.
Seeing Nol relentlessly hopping around, the Lord of The Manor sighed. He had just raised his cannon when a ball of blue fire fell from the sky, blowing off a large chunk of mechanical pile on his body, exposing the black-red, rotten tendons inside. Murky smoke billowed upwards, and Zhuang Shuhang’s expression suddenly turned gloomy.
Magic attack.
Just as Teest was about to instinctively land and jump again, Nol grabbed him around the waist. Teest gracefully spun around, lightly stepping on Nol’s toes, and the two hovered mid-air.
“Ouch.” Teest said, looking at the heavily damaged room from above, “Did you guide him to destroy the anti-magic crystals?”
“I don’t understand his weapons, but the anti-magic crystals are my design. I can figure out where they are,” Nol said hoarsely, swinging his staff forcefully. Blue fire burned, and a ring of fire appeared in the air, intercepting a beam of light.
Beyond the fire ring, surprisingly, was the corridor where the neighbors slept.
The beam created a semi-circular pit, and in the center of the pit was another fragmented anti-magic crystal.
“Teest, the rest is up to you,” Nol said.
“At your command, honey,” Teest replied as a gust of wind rose, and he plummeted towards the Lord of The Manor on the central stage.
The two turned the battle into a game of catch, with Teest leading Zhuang Shuhang’s attacks, and Nol catching them with Kando’s fire rings. The Lord of The Manor’s attacks were ferocious, and Nol simply used them to destroy every anti-magic crystal he detected.
With each crystal shattered, an invisible weight was lifted off them.
Countless skeleton dragons rose into the sky. Nol stood on the back of one, extending his staff towards the heavens, raining down blue fire.
Suddenly, the situation reversed, and Zhuang Shuhang’s reactions became sluggish.
Unable to adjust his cannons in time, he resorted to using his black-red tendrils to whip at the corruption marks, causing chaotic explosions everywhere.
Amidst the smoke, Teest drew the fire, nimbly leaping among the building ruins, gracefully dodging bullets and gunfire.
Nol seized the opportunity to rush towards the sleeping neighbors, jumping between fire rings and sealing them into the system. When the attack wave came crashing down, Nol flashed out of the fire ring again. He grabbed Teest’s hand, and the two beautifully swapped places.
The fire ring was extinguished, leaving Teest in a safe place. Nol stepped on the dragon, swiftly ascending into the blue sky. Then the fire ring reignited. He extended his arm and pulled his knight back to his side.
Between the white light and the black-red corruption, a chaotic dance in space unfolded.
……
As the sun set and stars emerged, the sky grew darker.
With magic power rapidly depleting, Nol gasped, clutching “The Complete Recipe Book”. After sealing all the sleeping neighbors, his mana was left with a mere 10%.
The drawback of a prolonged battle began to show—Zhuang Shuhang’s attack speed hadn’t slowed, and corruption kept gathering, making his power seemingly endless.
At this point, it was difficult for Nol to make Zhuang Shuhang lose consciousness. Their best option was to rescue the siren and escape this endless war of attrition.
“I can’t feel my companions.”
As the sleeping neighbors were sealed one by one, Zhuang Shuhang seemed to notice something, his voice becoming sharp. “Did you kill them? …Did you kill them all?”
“I just protected them.”
Nol stood on the head of a skeleton dragon, facing Zhuang Shuhang from afar. “You must know, their condition was terrible. Whether it’s the Demon King’s corruption or the corpse of a god, it was hurting them.”
He still remembered the relentless pain and ringing in his ears. Ordinary people couldn’t bear it, let alone the neighbors on the brink of collapse.
On the increasingly dark stage, the Lord of The Manor let out an angry laugh.
“But it makes us stronger.” He questioned sharply. “Only we, after being touched by it, can still keep our sanity. Only we can use its power… It’s our greatest weapon, and you just took it away on your own accord?”
“Idiot. This is a game world! You actually sympathize with a bunch of data? Without attacking them, where do we get supplies?”
Zhuang Shuhang yelled, the entire castle trembling with his movements. “Do you think we didn’t try to negotiate at first? Monsters plus corruption—they wouldn’t even talk. Just killed our people!”
“How do you handle different factions? Is your cooperation with those NPCs genuine?”
He twisted his massive body, directly collapsing a wall. “Trapped in this hellish place, if not for this castle, everyone would’ve gone mad long ago!”
“Even with different attitudes towards the outside world, as compatriots, we could have cooperated.”
Nol tiredly dodged beam after beam.
“Look at that announcement. You guys are really getting into this bullshit world. I’m not free enough to be educating you. Just keeping the people around me safe is tiring enough.”
Zhuang Shuhang sneered. “Anyway, as long as this world is destroyed, everything will end—”
“How can you be so sure?!” Nol couldn’t hold back anymore.
The Lord of The Manor widened his eyes, revealing a twisted smile that one might see on the face of a mentally ill person.
“I’m asking you.”
He said with a terrifying smile, “You enter the game. The protagonist has the power to be denied by the whole world, companions on the brink of collapse, and enemies destined to be a matter of life and death with you… Tell me, how do you play this game?”
“Answer me, how do you complete it? With so-called truth, goodness, and beauty in ‘negotiations’? I think it’s a tower defense war game. The monster faction destroys everything, the protagonist wins, the game ends—”
Watching the crazed Zhuang Shuhang, Nol had mixed feelings.
He grieved for the innocent victims of Eternal Day City and Balsam Town, but as a native of Country C, he couldn’t bear the thought of his compatriots being killed either. It was an insoluble contradiction.
If he wasn’t so familiar with everything, able to act effortlessly, could Paradise have been another Manor?
“Have you ever considered that all this might be ‘real’?” Nol tried to soften his tone.
Zhuang Shuhang laughed heartily, black-red liquid overflowing from his eyes.
“Absolutely impossible.” He grinned, pointing to the pitch-black chasm. “You know what? I woke up from there.”
“When you’re about to die, I’ll throw you down there—go down and see, then you’ll understand everything.”
“Listen, don’t take it seriously,” Teest warned. “This guy’s not right in the head.”
“I know.” Nol closed his eyes. “Let’s retreat for now. We’ll come back to seal him later.”
Zhuang Shuhang’s trash heap-like massive body began to stretch, his voice harsh. “Do you know that there are still real Players in the world?”
“I really don’t understand.”
“You advocate for a system that ‘strengthens through killing’. Under such rules, you still want peace?”
“Go!” Nol shouted to Teest.
Communication with the opponent was completely impossible. “The Complete Recipe Book” only had 8% mana left. They couldn’t afford to tangle any longer.
The space emitted a viscous cracking sound.
Suddenly, numerous circular portals appeared around Zhuang Shuhang. They densely filled the space, the ground, the air, and near Nol and Teest. Countless monsters emerged—low-intelligence trolls and lizardmen screamed and furiously attacked the two.
This time, Nol saw very clearly.
Zhuang Shuhang activated some device on his body. The transporter buzzed like a pump, tirelessly opening voids in the air, drawing the power of corruption.
Taking advantage of the monsters distracting them, Zhuang Shuhang’s eyes turned blood-red, and he launched another concentrated barrage of gunfire.
Damn it. Nol gritted his teeth.
No wonder the monsters could invade towns at will. That wasn’t a power Tahe should have. Tahe’s magic definitely couldn’t prevent it. Zhuang Shuhang didn’t hesitate to expose his hand. He wanted to use his “monster army” organized outside The Manor in exchange for their lives.
Nol’s limbs were torn by the trolls and lizardmen. His vision was obscured by monsters, and his eyeball was nearly gouged out by a troll. Amidst the chaos, the effect of [Betrayal Overture] wore off, and Teest was dragged five meters away.
Nol’s magic power had already bottomed out. The mana in “The Complete Recipe Book” was constantly draining away.
8%, 7%, 6%…
They needed to leave quickly.
Nol commanded the skeleton dragon to crash into him, barely breaking free from the encirclement. Ignoring his broken spine, he quickly scanned around and found Teest enveloped by monsters.
Teest’s hand, still extended, rapidly cut through the monsters clinging to him.
Unfortunately, for each one he cleared, two more climbed on. The monsters Zhuang Shuhang recalled were in the thousands, a veritable swamp of flesh and blood.
Near Teest, the Lord of The Manor’s weapon ports all emitted halos. These halos pulsed like heartbeats, ready to launch an attack at any moment with a rain of arrows piercing the heart.
No.
The shooting trajectories nearby were dense. Bumping into Teest would be futile.
Teest was going to die here.
Realizing this, Nol almost stopped thinking. At that moment, he finally made a choice—
The letter opener “Bad News” shot out like a bullet, rushing towards Zhuang Shuhang’s shoulder.
The letter opener had no killing intent and no light effects, like a small piece of shrapnel flying off. It skewered into Zhuang Shuhang’s shoulder, and the next moment, all the weapons on the Lord of The Manor’s body simultaneously extinguished.
They began to fall.
Like mud sculptures drained of all moisture, the weapons stuck to Zhuang Shuhang rapidly rolled off. The rotting flesh that penetrated them lost support and collapsed softly to the ground.
Zhuang Shuhang’s body, belonging to the Savage Giant Witch, melted and disintegrated, just like the previous Player, Jack.
Nol, dragging his broken spine, rushed towards the melting Savage Giant Witch. His heart thumped against his chest. Thankfully, the letter opener had a similar effect on the neighbor as on the Players. Zhuang Shuhang returned to being a normal person, and Nol could take him back to the Lost Tower. With so many neighbors there, they could communicate slowly…
Unfortunately, this beautiful vision shattered in less than a second.
From within the crumbling Giant Witch’s body, there was no tall, thin young man from Country C. When it first fell out, Nol barely recognized it.
It was a half-mutilated skull.
The skull’s edges were charred, and the pink brain inside was still trembling. It fell towards the ruins, the soft brain tissue about to separate from the skull and hit sharp debris.
Nol didn’t care about slowing down. He rushed onto the sharp wreckage, blood splattering everywhere.
“System, custody—!”
Amid the collapsing machinery, Nol caught the half skull, almost breaking his voice shouting.
In a few short seconds, he trembled all over, as if waiting for a judgment. Fortunately, the magic was successfully activated, and the fragmented skull turned into golden light, successfully taken into custody by the system.
Zhuang Shuhang’s life was barely saved.
The castle continued to collapse, the tremors not only not subsiding but intensifying.
With the Lord of The Manor gone, the power supporting this place—whatever it was—suddenly became chaotic. The monsters, without command, stood around confused. Teest successfully freed himself from his burdens and leaped towards Nol.
“Well done,” he said cheerily, helping up the battered Nol. “This place is about to collapse. Need a hand?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Nol didn’t answer for a long time, and Teest suddenly realized something.
The stone layers were crumbling, with floor tiles falling everywhere. The “foundation” of the castle was completely exposed—a huge piece of wreckage, wax-like, was melting and falling into the chasm.
The first drop of “wreckage” hit the chasm, and the nearby land trembled violently. An explosion seemed to occur underground, with thick black smoke rising. The black-red corruption seeped out of the chasm again, signaling another round of the “White Night”.
Then came the second and third drops. The smoke grew thicker, and the trembling land could now be called an “earthquake”.
“We should leave,” Teest reminded again.
Nol looked down at the chasm, enveloped in smoke.
“You take Ben. I’ll go get the siren.” He hurriedly connected his bones, ignoring his flesh wounds.
Without the interference of anti-magic crystals, the two quickly found the bewildered siren. The young knight mounted the shadow wolf, looking utterly shocked. “Did you do this?”
“Yes,” Nol said. “We are from Paradise. Sorry for keeping it from you.”
Teest ignored the siren, focusing only on Nol. “We need to leave.”
“Yes, yes,” Fischer said urgently. “The Lord of The Manor said, if everyone’s gone, this place will fall back into the chasm. Corruption hitting corruption, that’s a super big explosion—let’s go quickly!”
Nol actually smiled.
“You call him ‘The Lord of The Manor’,” he said. “You don’t know his real name. You don’t have corruption on you and there wasn’t any room above for you… Everyone’s mental state is terrible, but you’re unbelievably normal.”
“You’re not from Earth, are you?”
“Brother, is this the time to nitpick?” The siren looked down fearfully as the stone platform was rapidly crumbling. “Let’s leave here first and then…”
“Earlier, when I heard about the collaboration between The Manor and the Eternal Church, I wondered why I hadn’t seen any members of the church.”
Nol glanced at Teest. “Don’t mind me. I’m just guessing—this guy is an expert in identifying cultists. He’ll know for sure.”
Teest wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes were fixed on Nol.
As the platform peeled away, the corruption poured like heavy rain, falling into the abyss along with the debris. Black smoke rose swallowing the stars above, leaving nothing but boundless darkness.
‘At least for now, the siren hadn’t lied,’ Nol thought.
The explosions underfoot became more frequent, like standing on a volcano about to erupt. If the castle completely fell, the impact would undoubtedly reach Brick Shadow and the capital city, Eternal Day City, causing an immense White Night disaster.
In the darkness, the staff could only illuminate a small area.
Nol suddenly felt the staff containing the [Mid-Distance Teleportation] was a bit hot his hand. He couldn’t help but look at Teest, those molten gold-like eyes meeting his gaze.
The scales of decision wavered. It was time to choose again.
Perhaps he would never have enough time to make the perfect choice.
“My judgment has led to this crisis. I have to take responsibility.” Nol’s voice trembled, but his tone was unusually calm. “But even if time were reversed, I think I would make the same choice.”
“What responsibility do you have?” Teest’s tone was dissatisfied, and his voice was slightly hoarse. “This is a natural disaster. No one can stop it.”
“I can expand the candle’s fire ring to its maximum, making the castle debris fall into the sea, preventing the explosion.”
“Are you joking? You only have that much mana left, and you have to—”
“Have to catch it below. It’s a bit dangerous.”
Nol reached out, straightening Teest’s slightly disheveled hair, his fingertips brushing over the other’s warm skin. “If things go well, I’ll just go down to the bottom of the cliff. Sorry, this time I won’t take you with me.”
From the outside, the Saiya Hotel exuded an artistic flair. It should have once been a rather upscale hotel, but just like people, it seemed to have not withstood the test of time. Now, it emanated a sense of decay and dilapidation.
Not far from it was a fountain park, and beyond were tall buildings shimmering with lights. However, the entire city was shrouded in a hazy fog, with the lights appearing like elusive ship lanterns on a boundless sea at night, seemingly close yet far out of reach.
Without a doubt, this was a large city, perhaps the Blue Harbor City of another time and space.
This was what Zhou Qian thought as he and the other players discovered that they were temporarily unable to leave the Saiya Hotel.
If they tried to move away from the hotel’s main entrance, they would receive a system notification, warning them that they were about to leave the story’s designated area. So, they all headed for the hotel lobby.
The lobby was spacious, but with a dim color scheme, and the furnishings looked very dated. A few guests, who seemed impoverished and were clearly NPCs, came in and out.
The receptionist, a tall man with a somewhat pale and thin face, greeted the eleven players warmly.
“You must be the tourists visiting Blue Harbor City. Welcome to the Saiya Hotel. My surname is Wang. You can just call me Xiao Wang.”
From Xiao Wang, the players gathered that their role was that of tourists. His words were also undoubtedly a hint. It confirmed Zhou Qian’s earlier thoughts—the story of Hall C still took place in Blue Harbor City—just not the “current” one but in a different timeline.
Zhou Qian asked him, “Where’s our tour guide?”
“He mentioned he’s stuck in traffic but should be here soon. Since you’ve arrived first, feel free to pick your rooms,” Xiao Wang said with a smile, handing over six room cards. “It’s the peak tourist season. The Saiya Hotel is quite popular, and we only have six rooms left. Choose as you like.”
Hearing this, all the players became tense.
The hotel had 12 floors and hundreds of rooms. If it was filled with guests and one of them was a serial killer…how would they identify the suspect?
“Hurry and pick your rooms. Though your tour guide informed us in advance, we’re quite busy. If other tourists come, I might have to give the rooms away!”
The players were concerned that if they couldn’t check into the hotel, they might be expelled from the designated story area and possibly die. So, they quickly took their room cards to check in.
Before taking his card, Zhou Qian glanced at Bai Zhou. He stood tall, looking both familiar and distant.
One thing Zhou Qian had to admit was that in the story of Hall A, both he and Bai Zhou were transformed back into their childhood selves. He was very familiar with Bai Zhou’s childlike appearance, making their interactions natural, as if they had never grown up.
However, after leaving Hall A, the tacit illusion was shattered, forcing both to face reality—they had indeed been apart for seven full years, making each somewhat unfamiliar to the other.
Now, Zhou Qian looked at Bai Zhou for a moment and then, with a sudden impulse, took a room card from Xiao Wang, looped his arm around He Xiaowei’s neck, and headed for the elevator. “I’ll room with Xiaowei.”
The other seven players had already chosen their rooms and taken another elevator. So, this elevator only carried Zhou Qian, He Xiaowei, Bai Zhou, and Hidden Blade.
Zhou Qian glanced at Bai Zhou and asked, “Which room are you and Hidden Blade in?”
Bai Zhou remained silent, and Hidden Blade cleared his throat, replying, “We’re in 1109. Where’s yours?”
Zhou Qian pressed the “11” button on the elevator panel. “Also on the 11th floor. Let’s go together.”
The layout of the 11th floor was very straightforward.
The elevator was located in the central position. Upon exiting the elevator to the left, there were a total of six rooms, with three rooms on each side of the corridor. Room No. 8 was opposite Room No. 9, and further to the left were Rooms No. 10 and 11 facing each other. At the very end of the left side were Rooms No. 12 and 13, opposite each other.
The right side, however, was a bit different. Rooms 1101 to 1106 had a layout similar to the left side, but uniquely at the end was Room 1107. Opposite this room, there wasn’t another room but rather a wall.
As such, the room Zhou Qian was in, Room No. 7, and the room Bai Zhou was in, Room No. 9, were numerically close in terms of room numbers, but they were quite far apart in distance, separated by an elevator and three rooms.
Minutes later, Bai Zhou and Hidden Blade headed left, while Zhou Qian and He Xiaowei turned right towards 1107.
Seeing that room 1107 faced a wall, He Xiaowei felt a pang of unease. Trying to suppress his fear, he followed Zhou Qian inside. Once in, He Xiaowei said, “You know, Qian’er, I’m glad I’m with you. My master is so aloof. Being with you is much more fun, and having company makes everything less scary!”
Unexpectedly, Zhou Qian responded, “Go to 1109 now and tell them you want to swap rooms with 137 to stay with your master. Then get 137 to come here.”
“?” He Xiaowei was confused. “You’re the one who brought me here. Don’t you want to room with me?”
Zhou Qian replied, “Just go. Why do you have so many questions?”
He Xiaowei persisted. “What are you up to?”
Zhou Qian approached He Xiaowei, staring into his eyes, and said seriously, “I just feel that it’s not safe for you to stay in this room. Haven’t you heard the saying? Never stay in a room at the end of a hotel corridor. It’s haunted!”
“So, Xiaowei Ge, I’m saying this for your own good.”
He Xiaowei: “…”
Zhou Qian continued, “The cases we’re investigating are all about murders. Many people must have died in this hotel. Who knows when a ghost might pop up—”
As Zhou Qian spoke, he raised his hands and approached He Xiaowei.
“Damn it, Qian’er! You’re always trying to scare me. Stop it. I’ll go change rooms right now!”
He Xiaowei, who was afraid of ghosts, dashed off. As he hurried alone towards room 1109, a realization hit him—Wait a minute? If Qian’er was genuinely concerned about me being afraid of ghosts, why didn’t he move to room 1109 with me?
What on earth is Zhou Qian thinking?
Does he not want to share a room with me?
But I didn’t offend him, did I?
Forget it. I can never understand Qian’er’s thoughts.
……
During He Xiaowei’s absence, Zhou Qian surveyed the room.
Undoubtedly, this poor and rundown hotel was one he would never choose to stay in the real world. The furnishings in the room were vintage, and the design was meticulous. The previous hotel owner must have been very particular about its design and decoration, and perhaps the hotel was once lavish, mainly for hosting dignitaries.
But that was decades ago.
After all this time, with no replacement of items or renovations, the room exuded an air of age and decay.
After a quick check of the bathroom, Zhou Qian returned to the main room, his attention drawn to the lamp by the bed.
When he first entered the room, he noticed this lamp, particularly its shade, which was very beautiful and reminiscent of one in the C-1 exhibition hall. However, while the exhibition hall’s lamp featured a peacock tail, this shade depicted a butterfly.
The butterfly, with its bluish wings, seemed so lifelike that it might flutter out at any moment. The shade’s color was still very dark, casting an old, yellowish light.
Upon closer examination, Zhou Qian noticed a “卐” symbol at the base.
After some contemplation, he shifted his gaze to the pillow on the bed.
Despite the bedding’s wear and tear, the pillowcase was exquisite. Almost immediately, Zhou Qian noted its material resembled the lampshade, dark with a beautiful design. This design was of a pair of mandarin ducks and, beneath them, two lines of text.
The first line was a famous verse from the Book of Songs, “In life or death, we’ll never part.”
The second read, “Chen & Huang,” with a heart drawn next to it*.
*Clarity: In Chinese culture, the mandarin ducks are a symbol of eternal love, devotion, and fidelity, as it is believed mandarin ducks only mate with one partner for life.
Some young couples, lacking a sense of public decorum, like to carve their names into tourist attractions. They would usually accompany their names with a love poem or some romantic gesture. But Zhou Qian had never seen such a thing done on a hotel pillowcase. And what was more…
Upon flipping the pillowcase, Zhou Qian unsurprisingly found the familiar “卐”.
This symbol seemed to have strong religious implications.
What kind of couple would mix declarations of love with such a strange symbol?
No matter how you look at it, the romantic verse combined with the peculiar symbol felt out of place.
After inspecting the bedding, Zhou Qian checked the wardrobe and drawers. His attention finally settled on a painting opposite the beds. The painting, with the texture of an oil painting, depicted a smiling noblewoman.
She wore an elegant earring that, from a distance, looked like a bird.
From a distance, one wouldn’t think that the material of the earring is different from that of the lampshade or the pillowcase.
However, upon closer inspection, Zhou Qian could see that the paint used for the bird on the earring had started to crack. The color peeking through these cracks was dark and yellowish, very reminiscent of the base color of the lampshade and the pillowcase.
After surveying the entire room, which took about five minutes, Zhou Qian brushed down the room with a cleaning brush he had acquired before sitting on the sofa. He began to wonder why Bai Zhou hadn’t come yet.
While calculating the time on his system panel, a knock sounded. Opening the door, Zhou Qian was surprised to find not Bai Zhou but He Xiaowei.
“What’s going on?” Zhou Qian frowned immediately.
He Xiaowei: “Oh, my master says 137 doesn’t want to switch rooms. After my unsuccessful plea, I came back. If they’re staying together, why don’t we switch with them? If this room is potentially dangerous, shouldn’t two Rank God players like them stay here?”
“You stay here.” Zhou Qian opened the door wider, looking displeased as he walked out into the corridor.
He Xiaowei: “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to bring your master here. Or—” Zhou Qian gritted his teeth. “I’ll bring 137 here.”
He Xiaowei was becoming increasingly bewildered. “What on earth do you want to do? You want to stay in the same room with my master?”
Zhou Qian replied, “Right. I should have a good conversation with your master. We are teammates now, after all. We should understand each other well. Wait for me; I’ll chat with him.”
He Xiaowei paused, feeling somewhat uneasy, and quickly followed him.
Without looking back, Zhou Qian said, “Remember to bring the room card!”
With that, Zhou Qian, full of determination, led He Xiaowei towards room 1109. However, behind his determined demeanor, he felt a hint of excitement.
Although Zhou Qian’s mental state had slowly improved in certain ways after entering the instance, he often struggled to genuinely feel emotions. There was one exception—whenever something related to Bai Zhou came up, things were different.
At times, Zhou Qian relished feeling angry. Only when one lost all emotional perception would they realize that experiencing the full range of emotions was a vital part of life. Without these feelings, genuine happiness was elusive. So, even though Zhou Qian was a bit angry at that moment, there was a slight thrill in his nerves.
However, Zhou Qian didn’t make it to 1109. As he reached the elevator, its doors opened.
A handsome man stepped out of the elevator.
He wore leather boots and shiny jeans, had many earrings in both ears, and sported a colorful shirt with most of its buttons undone, revealing a large portion of his chest and neck.
The skin there was also colored, and without closer inspection, one might mistake it for clothing. Only when Zhou Qian got close did he realize they were tattoos.
“Hey! Are you guys heading out? Are you here to greet me? How did you know I’d appear at this time? Hahaha.” The man gave Zhou Qian a once-over, his gaze laden with ambiguity. “This little brother is so handsome!”
Zhou Qian asked, “Who are you?”
“Hey, I’m your tour guide, Hua Hui. Welcome to Blue Harbor City,” the man replied with a grin, pulling out a horn and shouting down the hallway. “Tourists, let’s go! We’re heading to the first stop!”
As the guide’s voice faded, the other players began to emerge from their rooms. That was when Zhou Qian noticed that everyone was staying on the 11th floor.
The bald man Batu Fei, the leader of the Invincible Legion, shared room 1105 with “Ke Si” Liu Wansan, which was right next to Zhou Qian’s room.
“Ke Shi” Jian Erdan and Chen Dami, who had previously been with Batu Fei, were in 1106. Zhou Qian mentally labeled them the “Egg Fried Rice Duo*”.
*Clarity: The Dan (蛋) in Erdan means egg, and the Dami (大米) means rice.
The newcomers from Hall D were split, with one in 1102 and the other two in 1101.
While waiting for the rest of the players to gather in the hallway, Zhou Qian turned to the flamboyant guide and asked an essential question, “Where’s the first stop?”
He had a bad feeling, especially after noticing the tattoos.
“The first stop is the city’s most famous tattoo parlor, ‘Fluttering Dream’. Many come to Blue Harbor City specifically to get tattoos there!” The guide winked at Zhou Qian, showing off his shoulder tattoo, as if trying to entice him.
Indeed, Zhou Qian approached him. Not enticed, but to look at the tattoo—a detailed, adorable little fox. After studying it, he heard He Xiaowei behind him call out, “Master.”
Knowing that Bai Zhou and Hidden Blade were coming, Zhou Qian wasn’t in the mood to be angry at this moment.
In his mind, various images flashed: the designs of peacock feathers, butterflies, mandarin ducks, and flying birds on lampshades, pillows, and other places… leading to the little fox before his eyes.
These similarly styled intricate designs overlapped one after another and were all erased by Zhou Qian, leaving only one dark, yellowish-textured substance in his mind—
All these beautiful patterns were drawn on this very substance.
What exactly was this thing?
Upon seeing the tattoo on the tour guide’s skin, Zhou Qian had the answer in his heart.
The lampshades, pillows, and paintings were likely made of human skin.
The intertwined design of the mandarin ducks, the love poems from the Book of Songs, and the engraved names of the couple weren’t actually embroidered on the pillow.
The likely scenario was that one person in the couple had these designs tattooed on their back, arm, or perhaps thigh. Later, that person was killed, and the part of the skin bearing the tattoo was peeled off and turned into a pillowcase.
“Do we have to get tattoos if we visit the shop?” Zhou Qian asked the guide.
“Of course not!” the guide replied. “It’s expensive. You’d need a lot of money! No—”
“Money alone won’t do. The tattoo master chooses based on fate. He won’t tattoo those he feels no connection with.”
At this point, the tour guide chuckled and glanced at everyone, realizing that everyone was present. He continued, “Those who stay at the Saiya Hotel are usually the poor. It’s the only cheap hotel in Blue Harbor City. So, it’s always bustling here!”
“Rich people…haha…they come only to experience life. I can see you’re all not well-off. You probably can’t afford the tattoo shop prices, so why not just go for the entertainment?”
Zhou Qian quickly picked up on something and asked, “Experience life? Why would the rich come to experience a life of poverty?”
Previously, Zhou Qian couldn’t resonate with this sentiment. Growing up in affluent conditions, he sometimes became picky and demanding.
He would never approach such places, let alone come to experience life. Especially when his parents weren’t kind to him, he felt that if he didn’t spend all their wealth, he was letting himself down.
In response to Zhou Qian’s question, Tour Guide Hua winked mysteriously and said, “Because too many people have died here. It’s haunted! Some wealthy individuals come here specifically to witness paranormal activities. I think they’re just too idle.”
Hearing this, He Xiaowei couldn’t help but interject, “Then, why is there just a wall across from room 1107? There should be a room there, right? Does it have something to do with ghosts?”
Tour Guide Hua looked at He Xiaowei and replied, “Exactly. A family of three was killed in that room! Afterwards, every guest that stayed there committed suicide. Some jumped off the building, some shot themselves, and some slit their throats… There were various methods—”
Seeing He Xiaowei trembling, Tour Guide Hua patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t be scared. Later, the boss hired a Taoist priest to exorcize the place, filled the room with cement, and sealed the door. No incidents have occurred since.”
He Xiaowei looked perplexed and unconsciously moved closer to Zhou Qian. Zhou Qian then asked Tour Guide Hua, “You said nothing happened in that room anymore, but what about the other rooms? According to you, the whole hotel is still haunted. Why would you bring us to such a place?”
“It’s cheap. With the price you paid, you can only stay here.” Tour Guide Hua smiled at Zhou Qian. “Brother, don’t be mad!”
Zhou Qian asked him, “Aren’t you scared?”
“I’m not.” Tour Guide Hua rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a “卐” tattoo.
Tour Guide Hua smiled. “This is an amulet. With this, spirits and ghosts stay away! The master tattoo artist at the shop gave me this tattoo. He did this one for free, depending on his mood. Maybe if he’s in a good mood, he could tattoo you as well, and then you wouldn’t need to fear ghosts!”
“Alright, alright—” Tour Guide Hua looked at the time. “It’s time! Everyone, follow me!”
At this point, a crew-cut man addressed Tour Guide Hua, “You go ahead. I need to use the restroom. We’ll be down in a few minutes. Can you wait for us in the lobby?” This man was one of the players who had visited Hall D earlier.
Hearing his request, Tour Guide Hua didn’t hesitate and quickly turned to leave. Before departing, he left a remark, “Alright, make it quick. No more than a few minutes.”
After Tour Guide Hua left, the crew-cut man turned to the group. “What do you think about going to the tattoo shop?”
Noticing everyone’s silence, he approached Zhou Qian and inquired, “You asked a lot of questions earlier, so it seems you have some thoughts. Why not share them? In such a sinister place, I think it’s better if we collaborate.”
Zhou Qian pondered briefly and said, “I just have some speculations.”
“Like what?” the man asked.
Zhou Qian said, “We thought there were no bodies in the six exhibition halls. But it seems there are, or at least parts of them. Those intricate artworks are made of human skin. The patterns on them are tattoos.”
Hearing this, the crew-cut man and the other players went pale.
Zhou Qian continued, “I speculate that a serial killer might target those with beautiful tattoos. That’s why I asked if we could avoid getting tattooed. You heard the tour guide’s answer, right?”
“We did.”
After saying this, the crew-cut man said, “Considering the circumstances, I won’t be going to the tattoo shop. If we’re forced to get tattoos, it might make us vulnerable to the killer. Do you know the pattern I’m referring to?”
After speaking, he didn’t wait for a reply and headed towards his room. “Anyway, I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going. I barely survived the last game. The key principle behind this instance is—if the killer doesn’t see you, how can they target you?”
A moment later, not only did the crew-cut man return to room 1102, but another player, the plump one, also decided not to go to the tattoo shop and returned to room 1101. The skinny one, however, looked uncertainly at Zhou Qian and the others. “So, what are you all thinking?”
“We must go,” Zhou Qian said. “Getting through the game by mere luck has never been my style. Since the killer targets those with beautiful tattoos, he might appear near a tattoo shop. How can we identify the suspect and confront him if we don’t visit a tattoo shop?”
After speaking, Zhou Qian pressed the elevator’s down button. When the elevator doors opened, he walked in.
Bai Zhou, Hidden Blade, and He Xiaowei quickly followed him.
Among them, He Xiaowei might have preferred to stay safe, but he obviously didn’t want to stay alone in a hotel room that might be haunted.
Apart from the four of them, no one else entered the elevator for the moment.
Zhou Qian waited for a while and impatiently pressed the close door button.
But just as the elevator doors were about to close, they were quickly pushed open again.
Immediately after, the four members of the Invincible Legion and the skinny guy from Hall D squeezed in.
Zhou Qian glanced at them nonchalantly and looked away.
While the elevator descended, his mind paused from pondering the complex game details. He turned his head slightly, meeting Bai Zhou’s gaze directed at him.
Zhou Qian blinked and sent a private message asking, “Why didn’t you switch rooms with He Xiaowei earlier?”
Bai Zhou looked a bit surprised.
Zhou Qian quickly realized something—right, Bai Zhou didn’t know he had asked He Xiaowei to switch.
Still, Zhou Qian felt he needed clarification, so he asked directly, “Do you not want to see me?”
Bai Zhou shook his head, his voice soft but certain. “Of course not.”
Zhou Qian: “Then why?”
After a pause, Bai Zhou replied, “I thought you were mad at me.”
Zhou Qian: “?”
Bai Zhou: “It seemed to start in the rest area.”
Zhou Qian: “?? Wait, be more specific.”
Bai Zhou: “Well, you asked He Xiaowei for something instead of me and then shared a room with him. I thought you might be avoiding me, maybe mad at me. So—”
“I planned to talk to you in the morning after letting you cool down for a night.”
Zhou Qian: “……….”
A few seconds later, the elevator “dinged,” reaching the first floor.
Upon exiting, Zhou Qian walked ahead in silence. Bai Zhou followed with a slightly furrowed brow, “Zhou Qian?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“So you…”
Zhou Qian laughed, though there was a hint of exasperation.
Turning to Bai Zhou, his initial stern gaze gradually softened under Bai Zhou’s intense stare.
Zhou Qian then said reflectively, “We haven’t seen each other in seven years. It seems like we still need to adjust.”
Hearing this, Bai Zhou’s expression turned especially serious.
He seemed to gaze past Zhou Qian towards the streets outside the hotel lobby, or perhaps somewhere far away.
After a moment, he said, “Zhou Qian, over these years, I haven’t been in touch with… normal real life. I don’t understand society anymore and rarely interact with others. Sometimes… I even forget how to socialize.”
“If I ever said something wrong or upset you, or if—”
Before Bai Zhou could finish, he was startled to find Zhou Qian holding his hand.
“Zhou Qian…?”
Zhou Qian smiled, pulling Bai Zhou forward as they walked. “Yes, I overlooked it. You’ve been isolated for seven years…”
“Fortunately, I live the most worldly life. I like wealth and splendor, love schemes, and playing with people’s feelings. I understand this world and society very well.”
“Now, get to know me again.”
“After we leave this game, I’ll reintroduce you to the real world.”
……
Behind the two, He Xiaowei witnessed Zhou Qian’s actions.
He shivered slightly, turning to Hidden Blade and remarked, “Sometimes Qian’er can be so cheesy. But, it’s hard to tell whether he’s being sincere or just pretending.”
Hidden Blade: “…Don’t you see?”
He Xiaowei: “See what?”
Hidden Blade: “Never mind. Just be careful when we go to the tattoo shop.”
He Xiaowei: “Got it, Master!”
At the hotel lobby, Tour Guide Hua raised a small flag cheerfully and waved it at the players. “Let’s head to the tattoo shop!”
The two people, reunited after a long separation, presented a stark contrast in their expressions—one grinning broadly, the other pursing their lips. Ying Feng’s gaze kept shifting between Ling Xiao’s eyes, trying to discern whether this Ling Xiao was real or, as before, just another figment of his dreams.
But the Ling Xiao before him felt so real. His smile, familiar even after many years, remained the same. Even though the color of his eyes had changed, their brightness was as lively as ever.
Seeing Ying Feng remain silent, Ling Xiao prodded again. “What, don’t you remember me? I’ve been thinking about you, you know. The sunglasses look pretty good.”
Only then did Ying Feng utter their first words since their reunion. “What’s with your eyes?”
Ling Xiao subconsciously touched the corner of his eye. “Oh, this? It’s just as you see.”
He slightly bowed his head, smiling. “After all, I’ve been hopping through the cracks of time and space, always in danger. I was afraid of losing my soul and not being able to reincarnate; then I’d never see you again, right?”
Saying so, he placed his hand on the tall man’s shoulder. “Come, say hello to my former Qizhu.”
The tall man coughed lightly, somewhat awkwardly removing Ling Xiao’s hand, seemingly uncomfortable with public displays of affection.
His words made sense that even Ying Feng couldn’t find fault. For Ying Feng, Ling Xiao had been gone for decades, but for the latter, it had been a full four thousand years. Such a long time was enough to forget everything, even the deepest of feelings, likely reduced to a thin layer of dust.
Moreover, becoming a Qizhu had always been Ling Xiao’s dream, and now that his wish was fulfilled, it should be a good ending for him.
Ling Xiao secretly observed Ying Feng’s reaction. He showed neither anger nor sadness, standing silently. Even behind the dark lenses, he could feel the intensity of Ying Feng’s gaze. Just as he wondered if he had gone too far, a familiar head of red hair came into view.
“Ying Feng, you found Xiao Hui… Ling Xiao!!” Red Head shouted in shock, almost instantly leaping in front of Ling Xiao. “Is it really you? Am I seeing right?”
“Red Head!” On seeing an old friend, Ling Xiao also leaped up excitedly, the two embracing tightly, expressing their years of longing.
Bing Can trailed just a few steps behind, incredulous at recognizing the person in Red Head’s embrace.
“Is that really Ling Xiao?” he asked, as if in a dream, to the unmoving Ying Feng.
If Ying Feng had any doubts before, seeing the two embrace and jump around, dispelled them completely. It was indeed Ling Xiao, not an impersonation nor a virtual illusion.
“Ling Xiao! I knew you were still alive, you had to be!” Red Head could only repeatedly express his joy incoherently, while Ling Xiao was so happy that he both laughed and cried, quickly welling up with tears. Bing Can, who had been observing from the sidelines, also approached.
“Ling Xiao…”
Finally quieting down, Ling Xiao pursed his lips, let go of Red Head, and also leaned in to exchange a wordless, powerful hug with Bing Can.
After the hug ended, Bing Can had a clearer look at him, and the first thing that blurted out was, “Your eyes…?”
“Ah? What’s wrong?” Ling Xiao then noticed his moist eyes and instinctively reached to wipe away the tears, but exclaimed, “Oops!”
Seeing him constantly rubbing his eyes, Red Head asked with concern. “What’s wrong with your eyes? Let me see… No, wait, why are your eyes black?”
Only then did he realize in horror and exclaimed, “You’ve formed a pact with someone? Are you the Qizhu? What about Ying Feng?!”
At this moment, Ling Xiao barely opened his reddened right eye. Both men in front of him were startled. His right eye had reverted to the characteristic smoky gray of his fledgling state, contrasting sharply with the black of his left eye.
Stammering, Red Head pointed at his heterochromatic eyes. “You, you, you, what exactly is going on here?”
Ling Xiao, annoyed, tossed something he was holding. “What is this crap? It’s irritating my eyes. Why would anyone deliberately wear this?”
Red Head looked down but couldn’t find what Ling Xiao had just thrown. However, he saw Ling Xiao fiddling with his other eye, and soon both eyes were the same shade of gray, with a small black disc appearing on his fingertip.
“What is this?” No one from the heavens had ever seen such a thing.
“This? I had it specially brought back from another planet. They call it a ‘colored contact lens’. It changes the color of your eyes when you wear it. I had no idea it would be so uncomfortable.”
Awkwardly, Red Head tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But why are you wearing this thing, exactly?”
Ling Xiao then remembered his original intention and stiffly glanced towards Ying Feng in the distance. As their eyes met again, Ling Xiao involuntarily shivered.
“Heh, heh,” he laughed dryly. “Just a joke…”
Ying Feng stared at him for a long while before turning his head towards the man Ling Xiao had mentioned as his Qizi. Under his gaze, the tall, burly man timidly took a step back, then another, and suddenly shrank, disappearing. A familiar gray wolf appeared in his place, then sneakily hid behind Ling Xiao, trying to conceal his large body from Ying Feng’s view.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Red Head shouted in surprise. “Xiao Hui is a human! You’re actually a human! You’ve been with Ying Feng for so many years and never turned into a human!” Initially, they had hoped Xiao Hui would grow up and transform into a human, but after he grew up, they had to give up this idea, accepting that he was just an ordinary wolf.
“Uh,” Ling Xiao explained helplessly, “Actually, when I first adopted Xiao Hui, I said that if he turned into a human, I would send him back to Wolf Star. Although he didn’t understand at the time, he sensed it, so his subconscious blocked his human identity. I only just found out about this. His eyes are light gray, so I had him cooperate with me, but Xiao Hui was also forced.”
This last part, he specifically explained to Ying Feng. From Xiao Hui’s behavior, it was evident that he was still very afraid of Ying Feng, whose inherent parental authority made even ordinary people feel oppressed around him.
Red Head theatrically threatened to hold him accountable. “You forced Xiao Hui to act with you, and then you played us. Do you know how hard Ying Feng has waited for you all these years? And you tricked him into thinking you had made a pact with someone else?”
While questioning, Red Head approached Ling Xiao, who defensively placed his hands in front of his chest, smiling apologetically while stepping back. “Hey, I was wrong. I just wanted to give you a surprise. I really…”
He suddenly stumbled upon something, and before he could react, a pair of arms encircled him from behind, hugging him so tightly that it almost crushed his bones.
Ling Xiao initially stiffened but soon relaxed, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly. Just after wiping away his tears, his eyes began to well up again, his lips uncontrollably curving into a smile.
Although he was trying to control his emotions, tears fell onto Ying Feng’s sleeve due to gravity, leaving a slightly darker watermark. He tried to cover the embarrassing evidence of his tears but involuntarily tightened his grip when he touched Ying Feng’s arms.
Finally, it was just the two of them in the world, embracing each other after thousands of years of longing. After witnessing their awakenings, pacts, and reincarnations, Ling Xiao finally had his own moment with Ying Feng. This Ying Feng was his own, the one he had marked in every crack of time and space; the one who exchanged souls with him life after life, waking up in the same era; the Ying Feng whose longing never faded with time or distance.
“I missed you so much,” Ling Xiao finally said aloud, a phrase he had rehearsed countless times. Ying Feng’s chin rested on Ling Xiao’s shoulder, his breath warm on Ling Xiao’s ear. “Me too.”
Ling Xiao turned in his embrace to face Ying Feng. He removed Ying Feng’s sunglasses, and this time, Ying Feng gazed back without instinctively avoiding the sunlight. Their reflections in each other’s smoky gray eyes held no distinction between Qizhu and Qizi, just like any pair of young lovers dreaming boundlessly about the future.
Bing Can tugged at Red Head’s sleeve, and they tactfully retreated. But for those whose eyes held only each other, such gestures seemed superfluous. Xiao Hui also accompanied them.
Yu Ji and the others, who were looking for Xiao Hui, stumbled upon this scene. Seeing Ying Feng hugging someone from a distance, they got closer and were startled to see Ling Xiao’s face.
“I suggest you wait to reminisce,” Bing Can kindly advised Yu Ji. “It seems they’re immersed in their own world right now.”
“I wouldn’t…” Yu Ji started to say he wouldn’t interrupt, but stopped, overwhelmed by emotion. He knew how hard these two had waited for each other, watching as an observer all these years. The Ying Feng who had closed himself off after Ling Xiao’s departure, graduated from the military academy with top honors but chose to seclude himself in a church, among flowers and a wolf…
Thinking this, he affectionately rubbed Xiao Hui’s head. Without Xiao Hui, it was hard to imagine how Ying Feng could have endured the loneliness.
Xiao Hui comfortably closed his eyes and lifted his head. Yu Ji was one of the only three people who could do such a thing. Unlike Red Head, who used to tease him when he was smaller, Xiao Hui would bite him whenever they met.
“Can I tell you something?” Red Head said to Yu Ji with a voice that seemed like he was holding back a secret, a strange smile on his face.
Yu Ji had a bad premonition. “What?”
“Xiao Hui is a human.”
Yu Ji’s hand, which was petting Xiao Hui’s head, froze.
“A person from Wolf Star,” Red Head added with a hint of schadenfreude.
Yu Ji mechanically turned his head back and saw that he had ruffled Xiao Hui’s fur. He quickly smoothed it back in the direction of the fur roots, then withdrew his hand, adding apologetically, “Sorry.”
Xiao Hui, still only accustomed to being a wolf, opened its eyes and made a regretful sound in its throat upon realizing Yu Ji had stopped petting it.
Meanwhile, Ling Xiao’s fingertips gently touched Ying Feng’s cheek, tracing the familiar arc of his jawbone, a curve so familiar that Ling Xiao could draw it with his eyes closed.
Having calmed down from the initial rush of their reunion, Ling Xiao, who had been tearful just a second ago, couldn’t help but break into laughter. His tears were still in his eyes, but he was already laughing out loud. This joy, coming from deep within, was like tasting the sweetest honey in the world, bringing a smile that spread from his lips to his eyes.
Ying Feng, not as expressive as Ling Xiao, showed his affection in his own way. His face slowly moved closer, and their distance steadily narrowed. Ling Xiao, as if under a spell, leaned in to meet him.
However, just as they were about to touch, Ling Xiao suddenly came to his senses and pushed Ying Feng away with force.
“What’s wrong?” Ying Feng, who was ruthlessly rejected, asked in confusion.
“Now’s not the right time,” Ling Xiao said, touching his chest where his heart was racing. “We’re out in the open, and you surely don’t want to hold a coming-of-age ceremony here, especially with a bunch of onlookers who aren’t paying.”
Ying Feng looked around to see the four people and a wolf immediately pretending to look elsewhere, their expressions betraying that they were, in fact, watching.
Ying Feng hesitated and then took Ling Xiao’s hand. “Zhu Yue led people to destroy the Soul Tree here. The military is gathering the remaining forces to head to Huoxiu. If we take a short leave and then catch up, we might be able to…”
“No, no, no!” Ling Xiao quickly interrupted him. “I was about to say the same thing. There’s no need to go all the way to Huoxiu.”
Even Ying Feng, whose emotions were incomplete due to his status as a Lone Star reincarnation, felt a profound sense of loss emanating from the depths of his soul. It was as if a place of belonging had suddenly vanished; although he stood on his own land, he was overwhelmed with a strong sense of drifting.
Suddenly, he thought about what Fu Yao had said—that the soul’s guidance was limited by the distance to the lighthouse. What would become of the Tianxiu people now that they had lost their beacon? He turned to look around; people were helping each other up amidst their grief, but some knelt and refused to stand. His gaze fell on someone, and with a sudden sense of alarm, he rushed over and grabbed Dai Xuan’s wrist. In her delicate hand, she tightly held a sharp dagger.
“You’re mad,” he scolded. “Doing this will scatter your soul.”
Dai Xuan then lifted her head; her face was streaked with tears, and her voice was so strained that it was painful to listen to.
“If we continue living, won’t our souls still scatter?” she asked.
Ying Feng was at a loss for words, his grip on her hand frozen, unsure whether to hold on or let go.
Fu Yao approached, silently taking the dagger from her hand and tossing it aside carelessly. Ying Feng let go, and this time Dai Xuan didn’t reach for the weapon again, instead bowing her head once more as tears silently fell onto the ground.
“Who exactly are they?” Fu Yao asked, as Nie Yun also joined them. They had teleported back to face the ground’s impact risk, yet they were still too late to prevent the enemy’s final suicidal attack.
Ying Feng had little knowledge to share. “They are of the same species as us, not afraid of injury, not fearing death, and even in death, their souls can reincarnate.”
Every general who rose to high rank was informed of the truth about the Tianxiu species, and the secrets of the base were passed down from generation to generation. Fu Yao, of course, knew they were not a natural species, but only Ying Feng, through Ling Xiao’s senses, knew the truth that the Tianxiu had eliminated their creators—a fact he hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Fu Yao.
“Could our genes have been cloned?” Nie Yun’s first reaction was this.
“That’s impossible.” Fu Yao firmly denied this possibility. “I’m certain no one has gone missing recently.”
The last time someone attempted to kidnap a Tianxiu was when the Tai Yin coalition schemed against Ying Feng with the Huoxiu people, and that was decades ago.
“What do we do now? Are we really only to…”
Wait for extinction? Nie Yun, for once, felt utterly lost about the future.
Fu Yao took a heavy step forward, looking in the direction where the Soul Tree had fallen. The enemy had been annihilated in the recent destructive attack. What kind of people would go to such lengths to destroy them?
Ying Feng felt something missing at his side, looking around restlessly until Nie Yun asked what he was searching for. That’s when he realized. “Has anyone seen a gray wolf?”
Fu Yao and Nie Yun exchanged a look of confusion and shook their heads in unison.
Ying Feng was concerned. He left Fu Yao and Nie Yun quickly, asking everyone he encountered, but no one had noticed Xiao Hui’s whereabouts.
He remembered that Xiao Hui had followed him to the base, so he retraced his steps. Along the way, daggers lay scattered on the ground—each one representing a life. The sight was as horrifying as a battlefield littered with corpses.
The base was unrecognizable from the war’s destruction, a stark contrast to Ying Feng’s memory of the awe he felt at its grandeur when he first visited as a fledgling. Now, it was nothing but desolation.
He navigated through the rubble and craters, calling Xiao Hui’s name in the silence. The rustling of the fallen leaves of the Soul Tree, brought down by the wind, was eerily distinct.
Ying Feng realized he had reached the front of the Soul Tree. He had expected no one to be there, but to his surprise, two figures stood before the remains of the tree, one with hands behind his back, sporting rare pale yellow hair, and the other standing straight behind him at an angle.
“Excuse me, can I ask…” Ying Feng began, but his words abruptly stopped as the person in front of him slowly turned around. As the face became clear, Ying Feng involuntarily widened his eyes in shock.
“Zhu Yue? How could it be you?!” Since the self-destruction of the Eagle, he had heard nothing of this person.
Zhu Yue’s demeanor had changed again from the last time Ying Feng had seen him. Back then, Ying Feng thought of him as a crazed lunatic, but now this person seemed to exude a dangerous aura that even Ying Feng could sense.
Zhu Yue seemed unconcerned with Ying Feng’s wariness, instead offering a faint smile as he took two steps forward. The person behind him, with a face identical to Zhen He, also turned around, expressionless and with eyes so cold they seemed devoid of human warmth.
Ying Feng’s instincts told him that their presence boded ill. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to pay our respects to the Soul Tree,” Zhu Yue stated flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. “It’s been a while. Your sunglasses are quite amusing.”
Ying Feng’s thoughts darkened with the memory, of course, invisible to Zhu Yue.
“Ling Xiao? Did he die in that explosion years ago?” Zhu Yue was unaware of what had happened after his departure. “To perish as a fledgling, how pitiful.”
He paused before asking another question. “What about you? After all these years, have you still not made a sworn pact with anyone? Otherwise, you would have taken off those sunglasses long ago.” He lowered his head. “Someone who once scorned me is willing to scatter his soul for another. Even if Ling Xiao is no more, I still feel a bit jealous of him.”
Ying Feng glanced at Zhen He nonchalantly. “His eyes are black.”
“Ah,” Zhu Yue admitted without denial. “Because he’s not Zhen He, although I still call him by the same name. He’s not, and that’s clearer to me than anyone else.”
“Then where is Zhen He?”
“Just like Ling Xiao, scattered to the winds, right before my eyes.” Zhu Yue recounted the event as if it were about someone unrelated to him.
Ying Feng kept silent and didn’t correct him. Zhu Yue continued as if he had waited too long for an audience and urgently needed to share his story.
“I suppose you wonder where we went after that incident?”
He lowered his gaze, slipping into memories without waiting for Ying Feng to inquire. “Zhen He was forced into the pact with me and never forgave me. Though I was the Qizhu, I had to be wary of my own Qizi day and night. I never anticipated that he would rather end his own life than continue with me.”
“After my plans failed, during our escape, he tricked me. He set the escape ship’s destination to Huoxiu, a place the Tianxiu can never reach. Once we exceeded the distance for soul traction, our bodies began to wither, and even our souls couldn’t return.”
“I couldn’t move, but my senses were clear. So I saw every detail of his departure.” He chuckled unnervingly. “His soul fragments just dissipated into the vast cosmos, never to come together again. As a Qizi, he didn’t even have the resistance to the soul traction that the Qizhu has. Isn’t that laughable?”
Ying Feng felt chills from his laugh. If Zhu Yue was a paranoid madman back then, by now he had lost all human reason. His thoughts were incomprehensible to a sane person, lost in his own world, driving those around him to madness or leading himself to ruin.
“Ying Feng, I admit I was infatuated with you during my fledgling years. But it only shows that the loyalty code embedded in the Tianxiu’s genes is too strong. Even someone as impure as me, not entirely Tianxiu, was swayed by it. Even when with someone I was using, I gradually became devoted to them.”
“I believe it was the same for him, just unable to let go of the hatred in his heart. What does it feel like to love and hate someone at the same time? I suppose it’s similar to how you must have felt when you first made your pact with Ling Xiao.”
He lifted his head. “Ying Feng, do you still remember the words you once told me? You asked me not to interfere in your family affairs, and even if you were forced together without any feelings, you regarded him as family from the start. It was those words that made it impossible for me to forgive you, no matter what.”
“I have nothing to do with you in the first place,” Ying Feng finally retorted.
“You’re right,” Zhu Yue continued. “I was weaker than everyone else when I first awoke, the gap was so large I couldn’t catch up no matter how hard I tried. People either mocked or bullied me, yet you, who were furthest from me, saved me. My unrequited love for you began then, and no matter how much ridicule or abuse I suffered after that, as long as I retreated into the fantasy of being with you, nothing else mattered, not even the physical pain.”
His stark confession made Ying Feng uncomfortable, but Zhu Yue did not take shame in it.
“I know you must find me disgusting, but it was indeed by clinging to a fantasy of you that I managed to get through each day at the junior academy with hope. I know that even though you saved me, you still looked down on me. You even scorned the idea when I offered my most precious blood. Only Ling Xiao, your equal, could garner more of your attention.”
“And me, I’ve never been acknowledged or encouraged by anyone. Even though I gained the abilities of Zhen He, and even recovered the memories of being an ancient Tianxiu, I could never escape the psychology of the past. In any situation, no matter who I faced, I couldn’t raise my head.”
“The first person to tell me to lift my head and walk was Zhen He. Whether it was out of malicious mockery or not, at least he truly changed me little by little. I thought my time at the senior academy would continue under the indifferent days at Bikong, but it was under his harsh tutelage that I gradually regained my confidence and could finally look others in the eye.”
Ying Feng realized that all the words Zhu Yue had just spoken were while looking him in the eyes, an act so simple for others, yet many years ago, it only surfaced briefly when he mustered the courage to confess, and even then, it was fleeting and uneasy. Zhen He truly left a significant mark on Zhu Yue, and Ying Feng finally understood what the most obvious contrast was between his past and present.
Zhu Yue closed his eyes, as if returning to years past, to that familiar voice that chastised him with clenched teeth. “You’ve obtained my power, yet you’re still so timid; even I am ashamed for you!”
If you don’t want to be looked down upon forever, walk with your head held high. If you can’t lift your head on your own, who else will look at you?
“He was the first one who saw me,” Zhu Yue muttered to himself. “Maybe I was that lonely, that even just achieving that was enough to satisfy me. All that talk of genetic codes being loyal to each other was just a self-deceiving excuse.”
“And you,” he slowly opened his eyes, “the one who has always seen me, is only Ling Xiao, right? In some ways, we really do have something in common.”
Ying Feng didn’t want to listen to his mad ramblings anymore. He only cared about one thing. “So how did you survive?”
“Me?” Zhu Yue said lightly. “At the last moment, I was saved by someone. You must have heard of them, the descendants of the ancient Tianxiu who migrated to the Huoxiu thousands of years ago. They not only continued the bloodline of the ancient Tianxiu but also thrived and prospered, something the rebels of that time could never have imagined.”
“To them, I was a fellow compatriot forced to use the Lone Star to survive. My good colleague at the science academy had already secretly copied the Lone Star’s code, and with my joining, recreating an artificial human was as easy as flipping one’s hand.”
Ying Feng was shocked. “Those people just now, could it be…”
“That’s right,” Zhu Yue admitted frankly. “I’ve been in hiding all this time, just to deal this fatal blow to you. What we created was a Lone Star, your original version. They have no emotions, absolute obedience, existences without the soul traction, who would execute any command without hesitation, even self-destruction.”
“So this person was a Lone Star cloned in the image of Zhen He?” Ying Feng couldn’t comprehend. “Why didn’t you endow him with human emotions? Wouldn’t that make him closer to the person you missed?”
“Emotions?” Zhu Yue repeated disdainfully, turning his head and looking fondly at that face, a gaze that would never be reciprocated. “What use are emotions? Without emotions, there’s no betrayal. He will always obey me. No matter what I say, he will carry it out without a second thought.”
He turned back. “Allowing you to have emotions was the most erroneous decision I made. If it wasn’t for my overconfidence in controlling humans, the tragedy of creators being annihilated by their own creations wouldn’t have happened.”
After saying that, he cracked a smile. “But it all ends here. You were born from my hands, and you will end by my hands. Without the Soul Tree and no lighthouse, the symptoms of soul traction will soon appear in every Tianxiu person. You will gradually lose the ability to act until complete extinction. I have personally experienced that feeling; it’s like a battery slowly running out of power. I assure you, it won’t be pleasant.”
“Don’t even dream of migrating to Huoxiu to repeat history. To prevent you from doing so, I have personally modified the function of the lighthouse. Only the souls of the Lone Stars can be guided, and we are decidedly excluded.”
Ying Feng noticed his pronoun changed from ‘you’ to ‘us’. “By doing this, even you can’t be reborn.”
“I am just an ordinary human. Without you, I would have died of old age over four thousand years ago. Having lived so much longer, I am already content. Once, someone sacrificed their soul for me, and I didn’t die. Today, I want the souls of all Tianxiu to accompany me in death.”
Having said all he wanted to say, he turned and walked towards a small spacecraft parked nearby. Only then did Ying Feng realize he could not let him go.
“Stop!” He rushed forward to intercept him, but the impostor Zhen He blocked him. This delay allowed him to board the spacecraft.
“Since we’re all headed to the end, does it matter whether you kill me now or not?” Zhu Yue said, turning around. “Unfortunately, I want to live a few more days, to witness the end of the Tianxiu with my own eyes.”
He called out, “Come back, Zhen He.”
The person with the same name took a few steps back towards Ying Feng, and after entering the spacecraft, quickly closed the hatch. Ying Feng hesitated for just a moment, and they were gone, leaving only a shadow in front of him. The subsequent arrival of Fu Yao and others only caught a glimpse.
“Who was that just now?” Fu Yao asked Ying Feng.
Ying Feng settled himself and recounted the key points of Zhu Yue’s words. Those who heard showed signs of panic. The truth was too shocking, and even well-trained soldiers struggled to accept it momentarily.
“I believe what he said is true.” Fu Yao’s gaze flickered rapidly, a sign he was thinking. “But we cannot just sit here and wait for death.”
He pondered for a moment. “Although it’s a risk…”
“No matter what you decide, I will follow,” Nie Yun declared without hesitation.
His loyal subordinates also stood up one by one. “Marshal Long Yin is gone; you are the new marshal. Whatever the marshal commands, we will follow unconditionally.”
Fu Yao looked into the trusting eyes of everyone and nodded solemnly.
“The military once had a seed from the Soul Tree, which is now missing. Although the properties of Huoxiu’s lighthouse have been modified, there must still be a Soul Tree there, and if it was planted recently, it couldn’t have grown much.”
“I know the chances of getting it are slim, and we might not return, but if one person can bring it back, those who stay can survive.”
“Since we are bound to die whether we stay or go, we can only seek life in the face of death. Gather the remaining forces of the military—anyone willing to go. The more we have, the greater the chance.”
Ying Feng stepped forward. “I will go as well.”
“You are still a fledgling,” Nie Yun objected subconsciously.
“At this point, does it make any difference whether I’m a fledgling or not?”
Fu Yao hesitated. “Are you sure? You’ve been risking soul disintegration waiting for Ling Xiao for decades, and he might return any moment. If he comes back and you’re gone, what was the point of your waiting all these years?”
Ying Feng was calm. “If he returns and sees that I was selfishly clinging to life alone while the country faced danger just to wait for him, he would be disappointed in me too.”
Fu Yao was conflicted for a moment but finally made a decision.
“Alright, I respect your choice.”
The remaining forces of the military gathered from all directions, and Ying Feng was reunited with his former classmates after many years—Bing Can, Red Head, Yu Ji, Shuang Feng… Their hands clasped tightly together, not for a happy reunion but for a joint journey towards death.
Yu Ji was worried about Xiao Hui; besides Ying Feng and the priest, he was its closest companion. Seeing Ying Feng naturally brought up questions about Xiao Hui. This reminded Ying Feng of Xiao Hui’s disappearance, and he reported it to Fu Yao, and several people split up to look for it.
Today might have been the day Ying Feng initiated conversations with people the most. He approached a burly figure not far away to ask a question.
“Excuse me, have you seen a gray wolf around here?”
The man turned around, and Ying Feng paused. This rare individual, even taller than him, had a pair of light gray eyes. Even Ying Feng, who was a well-developed Qizhu, had to look up to see him. What happened to this person? What kind of Qizhu would have such a peculiar taste?
Upon seeing Ying Feng, the burly Qizi showed a slight, hard-to-detect fear in his eyes and subconsciously leaned back.
“No,” he replied in standard Tianxiu language.
Ying Feng, preoccupied with his thoughts, didn’t notice much else, only that there was another person behind the large man whom he had completely missed at first glance, showing how imposing the figure was.
Could he be the Qizhu of this man? Ying Feng wasn’t sure, eyeing the other’s silhouette. The figure looked a few centimeters shorter than himself, but recalling Fu Yao and Nie Yun, Ying Feng thought it wasn’t impossible.
Ying Feng got his answer and should have moved on to search elsewhere, but for some reason, he stood rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the person, feeling more and more that the silhouette was familiar.
“Excuse me…” he began in a deep voice, and the person who had been turned away started to rotate slowly at the sound of his voice. The face he had missed for decades miraculously appeared before his eyes.
“Ling Xiao!” Ying Feng couldn’t believe his eyes and instinctively took a step forward, but then stopped himself.
Ling Xiao, now fully turned around, still had his familiar appearance and his signature smile, but the light gray eyes that Ying Feng had grown accustomed to were now pitch black.
As Ling Xiao turned around and saw Ying Feng, the smile on his lips grew wider, playfully showing his white teeth, and he blinked slowly, his long eyelashes seemingly stirring the air, sending the scorching temperature around Ying Feng plummeting in an instant.
“Hi,” Ling Xiao said, smiling at the stunned Ying Feng. “Long time no see.”
Ying Feng awoke from his dream, which he had had countless times before, of Ling Xiao saving him from the explosion. Ever since he inferred through the Remembrance Stone that Ling Xiao was still alive, he had been having the same dream. Its clarity convinced him that what happened that day wasn’t an illusion—it was Ling Xiao, leaping through the cracks of time and space, who had saved him from imminent peril. This could explain why Ling Xiao’s eyes were a different color when he saw them.
After washing his face with cold water and looking up into the mirror, Ying Feng saw his own reflection with eyes the same as Ling Xiao’s. They had been so close to each other once, yet at that time he knew nothing about it. Had he known in advance, he would have responded more fervently to Ling Xiao’s embrace.
But regretting over and over was pointless now; what he needed to do was keep waiting. He believed that Ling Xiao would leap to a point in time where they would meet again, and when that time came, he would hold on to him and never let go.
With this firm belief, Ying Feng casually took his controller and wore it on his right ear, then lightly tapped his temple with his index finger. The black screen flickered, and a pair of pure black sunglasses obscured his vision, hiding the gray of his irises behind the lenses. The unusual sunglasses often drew curious glances from others, but that was better than the pity revealed inadvertently by those who saw the true color of his eyes.
Life for Ying Feng was monotonous, with days of waiting, but occasionally there were surprises. Like this day, he went to the backyard as usual, only to find that the Acacia had bloomed a carpet of flowers, with large red curled petals and goose-yellow semi-transparent stamens surrounded by a faint white glow.
When he had bought the Acacia seeds, the vendor had told him that this flower was extremely difficult to bloom, but he never imagined it would be so challenging. For decades, they had never bloomed, only producing deep red beans the size of soybeans at the end of autumn, leading him to doubt whether the vendor’s words were true or if the soil and water of Tianxiu were unsuitable for their growth.
But when he witnessed the blooming of the Acacia, he instantly dismissed his doubts about the vendor. The vibrant red flowers on the ground were more enchanting than the white lotus, yet not at all gaudy.
With his new discovery, Ying Feng quickly returned to the house, grabbed his sketchbook, and outlined the acacia’s petals in a few strokes. He also tried to describe the fluid light, which was hard to depict, with words as best he could. When he finished the sketch with the name “Acacia”, it reminded him of the Remembrance Stone, which bore a name similar to the flower. So much time had passed that even the Acacia had bloomed, but the person who had carved feelings of longing into the stone had yet to return. This thought saddened Ying Feng. With the fleeting lifespan of a fledgling, would he be able to wait for the day of reunion with Ling Xiao?
Having recorded this rare flowering period, it was past noon. Ying Feng was about to call back Xiao Hui but noticed it acting unusually anxious, pacing back and forth and growling lowly as if facing a great enemy.
Having never seen Xiao Hui like this, Ying Feng knew it was the animal’s acute sense of impending danger. Following Xiao Hui’s gaze, he looked up and heard faint rumblings from afar. But the distant rumbling was quickly replaced by a piercing alarm.
The people living on this planet, many of whom had never heard a real air raid alarm in their lives because no enemy had ever dared to invade their territory, had only experienced related defensive drills during training.
He rushed from the backyard to the front, where he bumped into the new priest of the church. The former priest had been satisfactorily reincarnated and moved on more than a decade ago, and Ying Feng had taken part in the farewell when he left for the base. The new priest quickly came to accept the non-believer who had been residing long-term in the church and who, over the years, had become the person Ying Feng was closest to. Although not a graduate of a military academy, the priest didn’t panic when the alarm sounded; every person here had received the most systematic combat training during their fledgling phase and knew exactly what to do in such situations.
Indeed, several flying vehicles passed by the church, all heading in the same direction, and the priest called Ying Feng to join them.
“Going to Bikong? Take my car.”
Bikong was the fledgling academy of the district. In case of danger, every adult staying within the district would immediately go to the academy to protect the fledglings, rather than waiting for the military to arrive.
Ying Feng frowned deeply, looking at the sky where flying vehicles were gathering in the direction of Bikong. That place was his alma mater, but he had a different, ominous premonition.
“If there’s danger there, contact me,” he told the priest hurriedly as he rushed to his own car.
“Where are you going?” the priest called after him, puzzled.
“Somewhere else!” He didn’t intend to disclose his plans and quickly got into his car, and Xiao Hui also jumped into the passenger seat. The Flying Shark switched to flight mode and sped towards the base.
His intuition was right; the closer he got to the base, the stronger the rumbling signifying war became. He could even see the military’s warplanes; his yellow Flying Shark stood out conspicuously amongst them.
As he approached the danger, Xiao Hui’s warnings grew stronger. It stared intently ahead, its paws scraping at the dashboard, and the low growl that had started earlier hadn’t ceased.
The military’s communication signal came through. “This area is dangerous. Please evacuate if you are not involved.”
“I’m a graduate of Royal Sky,” Ying Feng replied.
The other side took his words to mean he was military personnel. “Which unit are you with?”
Ying Feng had already noticed that the surrounding warplanes bore the emblem of the Long Yin troop, so he answered, “I’m with General Fu Yao’s men.”
Perhaps because the situation was truly urgent, they didn’t confirm Ying Feng’s identity but hastily closed the communication. Ying Feng followed the military to the base airspace, only to be pushed back by the heat wave from an explosion before getting close.
The battle was more intense than he had imagined. Ying Feng had no time to wonder where such a powerful enemy had come from. He parked the Flying Shark hastily to one side and entered the war zone alone. Xiao Hui risked danger to follow him—Ying Feng’s shouts couldn’t scare it off.
A shadow approached, and Ying Feng reacted instinctively. After a few hand-to-hand exchanges with the assailant, he grew increasingly alarmed. He had never seen such attack strength or reaction speed on any alien before. So far, the only ones he knew could reach this level were his own people, the Tianxiu.
Thinking this, he activated a soul crystal in his hand and, with a forceful motion, detached the assailant’s arm, thinking it would stop the attack. But the enemy, as if not feeling the pain, didn’t change expression and continued attacking with the remaining left hand.
Because he was uncertain of the enemy’s strength, he had used only a low-level soul crystal. Seeing the enemy undeterred, Ying Feng leapt back two steps, crossed his hands in front of him, and at the moment the enemy lunged, he released a blinding white light from his palms, piercing through the enemy’s chest.
The fatally wounded enemy paused momentarily, not falling as expected but became transparent in front of Ying Feng’s shocked gaze. A familiar blue light flickered around him.
The invader was a Tianxiu? How could that be?
The enemy’s soul fragments gathered together and flew toward a distant end, which was decidedly not in the direction of the beacon.
With many questions, Ying Feng continued to move toward the center of the war, trying to uncover the truth and dealing with the enemy forces along the way. His supply of soul crystals was rapidly depleting.
The closer he got to the base, the stronger the explosions. Warplanes fought overhead, constantly dropping missiles to the ground. Ying Feng finally saw the enemy’s insignia, but it didn’t belong to any known power.
It was easy for someone in civilian clothes who kept rushing into the base to attract attention. Feeling a breeze from behind, Ying Feng quickly turned to defend, but the person had already flashed behind him again.
This opponent was much stronger than any Ying Feng had encountered before. He focused intently, aware that he had few soul crystals left and needed to make each one count. However, contrary to his wishes, he was subdued by the opponent before he could act.
“It’s you?” Ying Feng realized as he turned that his assailant was Long Yin, dressed in the marshal’s uniform, not staying in the command center but appearing here in person, which was enough to indicate the seriousness of the enemy’s threat.
“What are you doing here?” Long Yin asked with a grim face, noticing Ying Feng’s figure rushing forward without any protection amidst the bombardment of missiles and the crisscrossing of laser beams.
Ying Feng didn’t answer his question but instead asked, “Who are these attackers?”
“I don’t know either,” Long Yin admitted honestly. The attackers had physical abilities equal to the Tianxiu people, fearless in the face of injury, and even their souls after death seemed identical, but he was sure they were not Tianxiu.
They didn’t use soul crystals but had the most modern weapons. The ground combatants were only a very small part of their forces. During the conversation with Ying Feng, Long Yin deflected several attacks from above with protective shields. But what was more disconcerting was the number of enemies; although the Tianxiu seemed to be temporarily leading the fight, with souls continually flying off into the distance, new enemies kept arriving relentlessly. They seemed to be well aware of the strengths of both sides, employing a suicidal tactic of overwhelming numbers against the Tianxiu.
Reports from subordinates were constantly coming through the earpiece, leaving Long Yin with no time to argue with Ying Feng.
“Go back,” he ordered tersely.
Ying Feng had already come this far; how could he possibly leave now? “I have undergone systematic training. I request to join the fight.”
“You’re not military.” Long Yin immediately dismissed the idea.
“But I am a Tianxiu,” Ying Feng insisted.
Long Yin raised his hand swiftly and touched Ying Feng’s temple, causing the sunglasses to flash and disappear. The direct sunlight forced Ying Feng to instinctively turn away and squint his eyes shut before slowly opening them again.
“Even if you are a Tianxiu, you are still a fledgling who dares not face the sunlight. What right do you have to join the battle?” Long Yin said unapologetically.
Bad memories made Ying Feng turn a shade paler, but he still refused to back down.
“I can do this.” He forced himself to look directly into Long Yin’s eyes without blinking, his gray eyes having not been exposed to sunlight like this for many years. Despite the discomfort, he reiterated, “Trust me.”
Long Yin’s gaze was sharp and evaluating, listening to frontline reports. Something seemed to happen there; his expression changed, and without further hindrance, he turned and walked away.
Ying Feng thought his actions were an unspoken consent and followed, but suddenly, the person in front turned back, raised his right palm, and trapped Ying Feng within a protective shield.
Ying Feng’s teleportation was already depleted, and he protested, “What are you doing?”
Long Yin said quickly, “Even if I believe in your abilities, I’m not prepared to let a fledgling take risks. Protecting fledglings is every adult’s first priority. Don’t forget that.”
He murmured something into his wrist device, and then, with a grab, a beauty Ying Feng had never seen before appeared in place. She was wearing a long dress and clearly wasn’t from the military, nor did she seem like someone who should be on the battlefield.
But Long Yin’s actions were familiar to Ying Feng; clearly, the summoned was Long Yin’s Qizi, a woman rarely seen as beautiful as this, but it wasn’t the time to admire her.
“Dai Xuan, protect him and evacuate to a safe place. You may use force if necessary.” Long Yin commanded his Qizi with the same tone he used for his subordinates.
Dai Xuan nodded, and Ying Feng immediately felt a pushing force, realizing she was a master of mental powers. Without the means to resist, he was forced to retreat along the way they had come.
Long Yin had already hurried off. His mental power was still strong enough to maintain the protective shield. Ying Feng tried to convince Dai Xuan.
“The enemy came prepared, concentrating all their forces on the base, clearly targeting the lighthouse or the Soul Tree. Although I am a fledgling, I am also a military academy graduate and have sufficient ability to protect myself.”
She ignored Ying Feng’s words. “I’m just executing my Qizhu’s orders.”
“Watch out from behind!” As two enemies appeared from left and right, Ying Feng shouted a warning. Dai Xuan effortlessly raised her hand, and the two, as if bewitched, turned their weapons on their companions and pulled the trigger. Two beams struck their chests, and both turned into souls and flew away.
“Do you see?” Dai Xuan said with a stern tone. “This kind of soul crystal is ineffective against any species from any galaxy. Mental powers are mostly used in medical and combat enhancement, but I can control them.” Her gaze darkened. “This means they are of the same species as us, originating from another place. This enemy is more difficult than any the military has faced before. How could we possibly let a fledgling like you join the fight? As for the concerns you’re worried about, the military has people for that. You just need to follow me.”
“Why would such enemies suddenly appear?” Ying Feng asked. “Could it be that our genes were stolen by the enemy?”
“As far as I know, no Tianxiu has been captured in the last hundred years.” Even if there were, their instincts wouldn’t allow their bodies to fall into enemy hands. If there was any possibility of that, every one of them would self-terminate without hesitation.
A huge spaceship descended, picked up the two of them, and took off again, but it didn’t leave; instead, it hovered in a relatively safe area. Ying Feng realized this place was essentially the military’s logistical headquarters. Signals from the frontline were being broadcast on a massive monitor, and everyone present was busy with their tasks, showing no curiosity about Ying Feng’s arrival.
Ying Feng covered his eyes with sunglasses again and looked up to the monitor, only to see the enemy’s mothership appear, surrounded by countless warplanes following it densely, like locusts coming from afar. He rushed to the control panel, checking the battle situation across several screens. “There are too many of them,” he reiterated his request. “Let me join the fight.”
“Your task is to stay here.” Dai Xuan’s voice rose over his, firmly rejecting his request. While reinforcements from their side were continuously arriving from different locations, they were still outnumbered by the enemy forces.
The base’s protective shield had been activated long ago. The enemy’s objective was very clear, focusing their greatest firepower here. Ying Feng also saw Long Yin’s warship in the nearby screens, with his elite troops deploying from the ship, skillfully dodging various attacks and surrounding the enemy’s mothership with the unique combat style of the Tianxiu.
But this time, they weren’t facing an opponent who was helpless without modern weapons. Enemies of equal strength confronted them directly in the air, transforming both the sky and the ground into battlefields. With the addition of large-scale destructive weapons, the base’s protective shield was under unprecedented assault.
A loud noise followed by a powerful airwave shook even the logistics ship, which was some distance from the main battlefield. As the turbulence settled, a distressed report came from the loudspeaker:
“There are cracks in the base’s protective shield!”
The logistics ship’s cargo bay opened, and several small warplanes shot out at light speed. Before they could get far, the second wave of explosions hit, with the enemy abandoning all defenses and continually rushing toward the same direction.
It was already too late. Ying Feng’s lips moved, but the words in his heart didn’t come out. In the upper right corner of the screen, Long Yin’s figure appeared. Dai Xuan lifted her head, looking at her Qizhu on the screen.
“Hold your positions,” he said, addressing all the logistics personnel, his gaze fixed on one person. “I will stop them at all costs.”
Dai Xuan’s lips trembled slightly, but she nodded firmly.
Long Yin gave one last look at the person on the screen and decisively cut off the communication. With a swift motion, he teleported outside the ship.
Under the personal command of the marshal, more and more Tianxiu warriors appeared above the base, building a new protective shield with soul crystals. The enemies, disregarding their lives, rushed over and were turned into souls upon their attacks, with more taking their place. There were continuous casualties on both sides, and the number of souls ascending that day could no longer be counted.
“No matter what, we must defend the Soul Tree.” Long Yin’s voice came through the communicator to everyone; even the logistics fleet heard this decree. Dai Xuan watched the central monitor unblinkingly as the protective shield became increasingly dense, and everyone held their ground with a readiness to sacrifice themselves for the last line of defense.
Ying Feng clenched his fists, feeling a sense of powerlessness as he could only watch the unfolding disaster. What was even more unacceptable was that they had been pushed to such dire straits without even knowing who the enemy was or where they had come from.
After a brief pause, the enemy mothership launched a fatal assault on the base, with thousands of warplanes suicidally rushing towards the human-made protective shield to self-destruct, causing cracks that were continuously filled by nearby warriors. Everyone in logistics and at the base witnessed this tragedy, gripping their fists with sweaty palms in anxiety.
“General Fu Yao is returning!” someone suddenly reported loudly, reigniting everyone’s hope. Fu Yao’s troops had been out on a mission but were now rushing back urgently. His arrival would undoubtedly be a powerful reinforcement for the Tianxiu forces.
Just as everyone thought a turning point had arrived, an unprecedentedly strong shockwave hit, rolling the logistics ship back several times in the air before it stopped. Those not secured were flung into corners, and at the same time, an intense white light filled the screens, with the sound of a huge explosion from the frontline being clearly audible even here.
The flagship was forced to land, and Ying Feng rushed out of the ship, followed by others. A shadow appeared on the other side of the sky and reached them within seconds. Leading the approach was the Burning Shadow. The white light above the base continued to flash non-stop as the Burning Shadow and the accompanying warplanes opened their hatches. Fu Yao and his troops jumped to the ground, sharing the same shocked expression as they looked ahead.
The protective shield shattered under the suicide attack of the enemy mothership, tearing open the base’s defenses. In full view, the Soul Tree was broken at the base by the shockwave from the explosion, its massive trunk crashing down. To the Tianxiu people, this process seemed to slow down manyfold, even the fluttering of its leaves as it fell was vividly visible.
People stood dumbstruck, witnessing everything, unable to believe such an outcome was real. The distant lighthouse slowly extinguished after the fall of the Soul Tree, no longer able to illuminate the path of reincarnation for the Tianxiu people.
The soul fragments of Long Yin and others gathered and flew into the sky, but without direction, they lingered, then dispersed again, dotting the sky one after another, like a blue firework show, marking a bleak end to the failed battle.
People in the distance looked up, powerless, as Fu Yao knelt heavily on the ground, followed by more and more people. The loss of the Soul Tree, the lighthouse, and the souls of their kin brought an uncontrollable sorrow that welled up from the depths of every Tianxiu’s heart, whether present or not, they all felt this bone-deep despair.
Gradually, low sobs arose around Ying Feng, catalyzing the resonance of more people, and their suppressed cries echoed throughout every inch of Tianxiu land on this day, like a lamentation within a hopeless plight.
The executioner approached Ling Xing with a syringe filled with a transparent liquid. The death penalty on Tianxiu didn’t bring pain to the condemned, nor did death bring despair; in some ways, it was perhaps the lightest extreme penalty in this galaxy.
Ling Xing closed his eyes calmly and silently recited a prayer in his mind.
He had been a devout believer all his life and hoped that after he left, God would protect Jing Yu in his place. He promised it wouldn’t take much time.
Outside the Nightmare Hall, everyone’s gaze subtly lingered on Jing Yu, their hands secretly clutching soul crystals, ready to rush up and subdue him if he showed any inclination to break in.
Long Yin checked his terminal. The execution time was very brief, and it was almost time to look up and bid farewell to Ling Xing’s soul.
But just then, a flash of white light appeared in the distance. Long Yin thought he was seeing things, but when he turned his head, the spot where Jing Yu had been standing was now empty, leaving the well-trained soldiers around him astonished.
“How… How is that possible?!”
Even Long Yin’s voice changed.
“He’s a Lone Star, isn’t he?”
Ling Xing opened his eyes, equally shocked to see Jing Yu suddenly before him, and the Nightmare Hall personnel were so frightened that the syringe fell to the ground.
“You… How could you…”
Ling Xing stood up, his hesitantly raised hand slowly touching Jing Yu’s chest.
A life for a life, the symbol of emotions reaching their zenith, only possible when the emotional value reached ten stars, the ultimate energy that could be released.
“How could you possibly learn this? You are a Lone Star.”
Beneath his palm, Jing Yu’s body was slowly becoming transparent, light spots fluttering around him like butterflies with blue wings, some lightly kissing the back of Ling Xing’s hand.
Jing Yu lowered his head, grabbing Ling Xing’s hand placed on his chest, just as Ling Xing had done to him countless times before, and with an inorganic voice and expressionless face, Jing Yu said to Ling Xing, “I’m uncomfortable.”
Ling Xing couldn’t help but laugh, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes with his laughter. He had said this to Jing Yu a thousand times, and finally, he heard Jing Yu say it to him.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll come to find you right away.”
Finally, a soul flew away from the top of the Nightmare Hall. Long Yin stiffly followed the trajectory of the departing soul, the owner of which was obvious.
“Lieutenant General…” an aide called out softly below, seeking instructions on what to do with Ling Xing, but was met with a thunderous shout from Long Yin.
“Shut up!”
Ling Xing wiped away his tears, turned to the executioner with a smile, and asked, “Excuse me, do you still have that thing? Please give me another injection. We must hurry; my Qizhu is waiting for me at the purification pool. Not only do we need to be reborn on the same day of the same month of the same year, but we also need to awaken on the same day.”
Soon, a second soul flew from the Nightmare Hall, following the first’s path straight to the purification pool. Long Yin took a heavy step back, his carefully laid plans coming to naught on this day.
Ling Xing and Jing Yu’s story in this life came to an end here, but the story between them was far from over.
Years later.
In the deserted Section G of the base, a person appeared out of thin air. The moment he materialized, he pulled out a device and targeted the surrounding surveillance cameras, clicking a few times. The screens in the monitoring center flickered and then froze, stuck on the previous image. Unless one looked closely, it was impossible to tell they had been blocked.
Ling Xiao breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he would jump to this kind of place. Fortunately, his wit had made him prepare in advance. He glanced around to confirm no one was nearby before he carelessly walked over to the Ling family’s energy pod, which displayed a name he was all too familiar with—Ling Xiao.
“I’m already lying here.” Ling Xiao affectionately embraced the energy pod, pressing his ear against it to listen to his own heartbeat.
“Grow quickly, so when you wake up, you can see that guy next door wake up too. He’s annoying, always acts aloof. You’ll go to an academy together, fight, intern, and maybe end up bonded… But I won’t spoil it for you; whether it’s good or bad, it’s all part of your life. You should experience it for yourself.”
He then turned to the neighboring energy pod, where Ying Feng’s name was prominently displayed. This time, Ling Xiao pressed the open button, and the pod slowly opened, revealing Ying Feng asleep inside.
“How long has it been since I’ve seen Ying Feng in his fledgling state?” Ling Xiao mused, remembering the small figure who liked to keep a cool face. He smiled involuntarily as he leaned over the edge of the energy pod, tracing the familiar arc of Ying Feng’s cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“I miss you, you know that?” he whispered softly.
Ying Feng’s body wasn’t fully materialized yet and was slightly transparent to the naked eye. Once the transparency disappeared completely, he would be able to wake up from the energy pod.
Even though he knew Ying Feng couldn’t hear him, Ling Xiao kept talking. “I’ve come to give you a gift that I really don’t want to give you.” He took out the seed and waved it in front of Ying Feng. “Do you like it?”
He answered himself, “I know you must like it. You value it more than anything in this world, to the extent that you ignore the person in front of you. Am I the fool, or are you, for not placing an instruction manual next to the peach pit?”
Ling Xiao held the seed in front of him one last time. “To think, I’ve been jealous of this little thing for so long, and in the end, it’s me who’s putting it into your energy pod. What have I been after all these years?”
After pondering, he held the seed in his palm, closed his eyes, and concentrated his mental power. Moments later, a deep blue light radiated from his hand, vanishing in an instant.
Having done all this, Ling Xiao sighed. “Don’t blame me for wasting life. I had to find a reason to give it to you. I hope my soul can protect you through tough times when needed.”
This time he finally bent down, picked up Ying Feng’s hand, and placed the seed solemnly in his palm, securing each finger over it. The seed was now in his palm, no longer at risk of falling out.
Ling Xiao prepared to shed tears over Ying Feng’s energy pod, mockingly wiping at his eyes where not even a shadow of moisture existed.
“Okay, I admit, thinking I’ll see you soon only makes me want to laugh with joy. I can’t even pretend to be sad.”
“How many years has it been since we last met?” Ling Xiao counted on his fingers. “Ten years, twenty years, thirty years… Oh, I can’t remember. It’s been so long. You didn’t bond with someone else, did you?”
He silently leaned against Ying Feng’s pod, feeling that it wasn’t right. “Your lover from a past life sent you such a big gift; it wouldn’t be proper for your lover of this life to do nothing. I must also give you something.”
Ling Xiao fished out a soul crystal from his sleeve, activated it in the palm of his hand, and produced a banana. He peeled the banana and swallowed it in a few bites, then neatly stacked the banana peel on Ying Feng’s chest.
“This hint is obvious enough. Find someone who likes bananas, and he will be your destined partner in this life.” Ling Xiao seriously completed this gift-giving ritual. The thought of Ying Feng spending his fledgling period holding a banana peel, pondering its significance under the bright moon every night, made him laugh so hard he almost couldn’t stand up.
As he laughed his hardest, Ying Feng’s energy pod suddenly lit up with a red light, accompanied by a harsh alarm.
“What’s happening?!” Ling Xiao was startled, and the sound of rushing footsteps soon came from afar. He immediately dodged into a hidden spot. Zhi Shang and the base researchers arrived one after another. Ling Xiao peered out from his hiding place and almost cried out excitedly upon seeing the reincarnated Dr. Zhi Shang.
“Why is there a banana peel here?” Zhi Shang asked with a frown, pointing at Ying Feng’s energy pod. The others looked at each other in bewilderment. They were all seasoned employees of the base; who would throw a leftover banana peel into an energy pod?
Zhi Shang picked up the banana peel, and the alarm stopped immediately. Ling Xiao was dumbfounded. Why didn’t the peach pit cause any trouble, but his banana peel was discriminated against?
“Go back and check the surveillance!” The crowd left again. No one noticed Ling Xiao hidden in the corner. Ying Feng’s energy pod was closed again, as if nothing had happened, but Ling Xiao knew something extra had been added there.
“Past life lover vs partner of this life, it seems like a tragic defeat from the start.” Ling Xiao wiped away his futile monkey tears, and the moment he raised his hand, he saw his body become transparent. He was about to travel through time again, hoping to see Ying Feng this time.
He closed his eyes, and bizarre colors streamed past rapidly. Wars and peace, stray bullets and daisies, heroes and thieves, smiles and tears—all turned into long and narrow lines, slipping through his fingers in an instant. No matter how spectacular it was in any era, it would become the past in the next.
Yet, it was these fleeting wisps that came together to form history, build foundations, and support the present of the entire Tianxiu. Every soul that existed today was a part of the past; they were the history of this country and also its future.
Ling Xiao opened his eyes again to find himself in a desolate place, with no human constructions in sight.
“Where is this?” he asked himself. The landing points of his past travels were usually near his soul, but he was sure that he had never been here in this life.
“Ah, that is…”
But when he clearly saw the alien flying object not far away, it exploded violently. The blinding white light made the daylight even brighter. After the explosion, flames roared at the site.
Ling Xiao was startled. At the same time as the explosion, he saw a blue light rising from the ground, forming a half-arc on the surface, obviously protecting something or someone inside.
He ran over quickly. Without his elemental soul crystals, Ling Xiao had to brave the fierce fire and enter the center of the explosion. The area was littered with the wreckage of alien bodies, many beyond recognition. There was a body still intact, eyes closed, lying on the ground. Ling Xiao’s eyes widened when he saw him.
“Ying Feng!”
He dragged Ying Feng out of the blast zone without hesitation. The latter was in a deep coma, severely injured, especially the right arm, which was slightly deformed due to the injury, and the palm covered in congealed blood—Ling Xiao didn’t know that the blood was his own and thought that Ying Feng’s palm had been cut.
Now Ling Xiao understood why he had jumped to this place. It was indeed where his soul was. Just minutes before, the fragment of his soul he had infused into the peach pit had acted, protecting Ying Feng in the explosion and saving him from disaster.
Ling Xiao couldn’t afford to think further; he pulled out all the healing soul crystals he had, activated them, and placed his hands glowing with white light on Ying Feng’s chest. Gradually, he called Ying Feng back from the brink of rebirth, his mental power draining from his body bit by bit until it was overdrawn.
The seriously injured Ying Feng slowly opened his eyes and saw Ling Xiao, who was healing him with all his might. Ling Xiao’s mental power had reached its peak, even capable of utilizing a level seven healing soul crystal. But how could Ying Feng know this? He was just a first-year military school student, and so was Ling Xiao at that time. With a confused heart, Ying Feng sat up and looked at Ling Xiao’s clothes, which didn’t belong to this era.
Seeing Ying Feng awake, a millennium of longing made Ling Xiao unable to help himself; he lunged forward and embraced him tightly. He had waited too long for this moment; all words seemed pale in comparison; only this action could express his inner feelings at this moment.
The hug ended, and Ling Xiao smiled foolishly as Ying Feng belatedly noticed his deep gray eyes.
“Your eyes…” he said, puzzled.
Ying Feng’s eyes were still the deep, unfathomable black that Ling Xiao was used to. However, Ling Xiao’s eyes had turned deep gray, a color only found in fledglings. No wonder Ying Feng was surprised.
Just as he was about to explain to Ying Feng, he heard him continue, “Your body…”
Ling Xiao raised his hands in surprise, quickly seeing the ground beneath them through his hands. What kind of fast travel was this? It was too fast!
No, that’s not right! There was still something important he hadn’t explained!
“Ying Feng, the peach pit is…”
…It’s from a lover from a past life who stole it in your previous life and gave it to me to pass on to his lover’s reincarnation.For this, they both paid with their lives. I personally put it into your energy pod. Most importantly, it’s not a peach pit; it’s a seed from the Soul Tree. Don’t just bury it carelessly!
Why didn’t they give him more time to finish such a refined summary!
Ling Xiao spun in the river of time. Wars and peace, stray bullets and flowers, heroes and thieves, smiles and tears all rushed at him. What would come next? He didn’t know. Stepping out from here, he was about to enter another era—one that belonged to Ling Xiao and Ying Feng—
The staff hadn’t appeared yet to guide players into Hall C, and two groups of players gathered in distinct areas of the rest area.
Zhou Qian and his group of four were standing close to the merchandise counter, discussing in detail the scenarios they had each experienced. As always, Bai Zhou spoke little, while Hidden Blade was pretending to be aloof, leaving most of the talking to Zhou Qian and He Xiaowei.
While narrating, Zhou Qian recalled the entire sequence of events, especially the words spoken by Ke Zheng. Those words were uttered the day they killed Ruan Mei during lunchtime.
Ruan Mei had used a car to kill a child, and the next day at noon, Ke Zheng and Ke Yun accompanied her back to the villa and even had lunch with her.
At that time, Ruan Mei acted like she was filled with remorse, as if she might commit suicide at any moment. To console her, Ke Zheng had said, “A’Mei, don’t think too much. Maybe… Maybe this is the fate of the Ke family. My parents offended someone, and that person cursed us, saying our Ke family would have no descendants.”
“Everyone from the older generation knows about this. That’s why, see, mom and dad don’t blame you. We don’t blame you. Once we’re done with everything, I’ll accompany my parents to the temple to pray and find an expert to solve all this.”
Recalling this, Zhou Qian said, “Actually, after hearing this, I was convinced I had enough information to kill Ruan Mei.”
He Xiaowei, puzzled, asked, “What information? I’m lost. A curse? Damn, are there fantasy elements in this scenario?”
“No. In my view, this clue isn’t pointing towards fantasy. After all, everything we’ve encountered so far doesn’t relate to fantasy at all. Regarding this story, I always had two questions. First, how did Ruan Mei get acquitted in reality? Second, among the seven bodies in the exhibition hall, one has the surname ‘Xu’ instead of ‘Ke’. How is this different surname related to the story?”
“Now I think, if I combine these two questions, I can form a hypothesis—”
Pausing for a moment, Zhou Qian continued, “In our scenario, Ma Luoluo and Meng Pingping, who chose not to adopt the surname ‘Ke’, became adopted sons of the Ke family. They died first, purely due to their foolishness. But in the real storyline, this adopted child might not have been the first to die, but the last.”
He Xiaowei asked, “Ah? Why?”
Zhou Qian explained, “Ruan Mei got acquitted, and part of the reason was indeed due to the outdated investigative methods of that era. However, she would eventually make mistakes as she continued committing crimes. Why could she kill as many as seven people? I suspect it has to do with the influence of her in-laws. Did the Ke family always help her by hiring the best lawyers and even use other methods to assist her every time she became a suspect?”
“Considering this perspective, there’s another question.”
“Ke Yun and Ke Zheng trust Ruan Mei because they’ve been close to her and were truly deceived by her. But it’s unreasonable for their parents to trust Ruan Mei so deeply. The relationship between in-laws and daughter-in-law isn’t usually this harmonious.”
“Hence, the words Ke Zheng said during lunch became critical. He specifically mentioned the reason his parents believed in Ruan Mei and were willing to use the Ke family’s power to help her—they believed the Ke family was cursed.”
Ruan Mei appeared perfect to everyone, and she never complained about her life. Not only Ke Yun and Ke Zheng trusted her, but so did the neighbors. Ruan Mei often made pastries for the neighbors and even helped them with their gardens. Thus, apart from Ke Yun and Ke Zheng, when the neighbors who had more contact with Ruan Mei were questioned by the police, they all spoke highly of her.
However, it was unreasonable for everyone to trust Ruan Mei so blindly. For a prominent family like the Ke’s, they value their descendants. Under normal circumstances, the two elders of the Ke family wouldn’t believe everything Ruan Mei said, let alone use significant resources to help their son protect her.
But if they were highly superstitious and believed the successive deaths of their grandchildren were due to the curse, the story becomes more plausible.
Zhou Qian said, “Why Ke Zheng’s parents believed in the curse so deeply wasn’t explored in our scenario. But their belief in the curse probably stemmed from some wrongdoings in their youth. Considering the era, it’s quite possible for them to have done questionable things to become prosperous.”
He Xiaowei nodded in agreement. “Yes, that makes sense. Faced with the deaths of their children, Ke Zheng’s parents would feel very guilty. They not only wouldn’t suspect Ruan Mei but might even fear her blaming them.”
“Right. Following this line of thinking…” Zhou Qian said, “What do you think would change the perspective of Ke Zheng’s parents?”
He Xiaowei paused for a moment, then slapped his thigh enthusiastically. “I’ve got it! The issue of a different surname emerges at this moment! At first, only Ke Zheng and Ruan Mei’s biological children died, which led the elders to firmly believe it was some kind of curse in action. But when a child with a different surname died, they began to sense something was off.”
“Exactly,” Zhou Qian concurred. “If Exhibition Hall A displays all the victims who died at Ruan Mei’s hands, then she has undoubtedly killed seven people.”
“I suspect that the first six who died had the surname ‘Ke’, and only the last one was the adopted son with the surname ‘Xu’.”
“In this way, the story becomes more logically consistent. When the first six died, investigative methods were rudimentary, and with the protection of the Ke family, Ruan Mei was never implicated. However, after even the Ke family’s adopted son died, the old couple began to doubt that the curse had anything to do with it. They stopped shielding Ruan Mei and even began investigating her discreetly. Ultimately, Ruan Mei was likely captured.”
“Of course, this is just speculation. This is the only relevance I could think of for the ‘different surname’ clue. It’s a subtle hint—hinting that Ruan Mei had been arrested.”
At this point, thinking of the real and fresh corpses in the exhibition hall, Zhou Qian’s gaze turned grave, adding, “At least in the normal timeline and the course of history, she should have been arrested and perhaps even executed.”
“The normal timeline… What do you mean by that?”
Facing He Xiaowei’s question, Zhou Qian didn’t respond. He glanced at the four members of the Invincible Legion nearby, then turned to Bai Zhou. He had crucial information that he didn’t want the others to hear, so he chose to withhold it for now.
Bai Zhou understood Zhou Qian’s meaning and promptly sent him a private message. “I agree with your perspective. If we hypothesize this way, this exhibition hall isn’t quite simple.”
“Isn’t it just simple?”
Zhou Qian replied privately, “From the moment we entered that mini-game and found out it was the exhibition’s ‘virtual game’, I felt something was off. By the way, Zhou Ge, the instance we’re in is called ‘Harbor City 2301’. Does that mean the year 2301?”
Bai Zhou nodded. “Yes.”
Zhou Qian: “Then I have a bold speculation.”
The players were transported to a so-called virtual game in the exhibition hall, not the actual crime scene. So, what was the deal with the seven corpses in the exhibition hall?
The seven corpses couldn’t have been killed by Ruan Mei in a short span. This could be inferred from the varying death states of the corpses and based on Ruan Mei’s motive for murder.
After her eldest daughter Ke Xue passed away, Ruan Mei experienced an unprecedented level of attention. With a theatrical personality, she relished this attention.
Her unfulfilling family life made her psychologically twisted, leading to a horrifying notion: killing a child would get her the attention she craved.
If she killed all the children at once, Ruan Mei would receive attention only once. Naturally, she wouldn’t do that.
So, every few months or even a year, Ruan Mei would kill a child. Only after the attention from the last child’s death waned would she kill another.
The question now was—why were the very real-seeming corpses, who died at different times and in different manners, all found in the same place?
The scenario wasn’t unique to Exhibition Hall A; it was the same in Hall B. According to He Xiaowei, he was scared out of his wits upon entering Hall B-2.
As he and Hidden Blade entered, the lights suddenly came on, and he heard a crisp sound. Looking down, he realized he had stepped on a very fresh eyeball. Meanwhile, Hidden Blade accidentally touched a piece of flesh, which immediately bled, staining his shoelaces red.
Everything in that hall, from the eyeball to the dismembered bodies, was fresh, like a real crime scene.
Zhou Qian had initially thought that maybe the killer had just committed the murders and then fled, leaving the bodies behind in the exhibition hall. But this idea seemed illogical now.
The only outlandish theory that could explain everything came to Zhou Qian’s mind.
He said to Bai Zhou, “Perhaps this exhibition hall has some ability… to let items traverse through time. Or it’s situated in a unique space where different timelines overlap. Using Exhibition Hall A as an example, the corpses displayed in different halls could be from different timelines.”
For instance, if Ruan Mei suffocated an infant named Ke Hua in her bedroom in January 1993, that small temporal fragment of the room could have overlapped with the space of Exhibit A-1 in Blue Harbor City in 2331. Thus, when Zhou Qian and his group entered Hall A-1, the corpse they saw wasn’t from 2331 but from 1993.
The logic for other halls would be similar. If a drowned baby died in June 1994, then when they reached the corresponding hall, what they saw was a corpse from that specific time in June 1994.
Different numbered exhibition halls represented different classifications, pointing to different serial killers. The various halls inside each exhibition guide the players through paths leading to different times.
On the surface, Zhou Qian and his group were observing Halls 1 to 7 of Exhibition Hall A, but in reality, they were directly facing the seven victims from seven different timelines.
“Right, it should be good like this.”
Bai Zhou said, “The exhibition hall can connect different spaces. Then this brings up another issue. In this instance setting, can history be changed? This matter is of utmost importance.”
“I agree with you. The term ‘different surname’ and the superstitious information about Ke Zheng’s parents imply that in the original time-space, Ruan Mei was arrested. Normally, she would be sentenced to death. However, perhaps this exhibition hall will change her fate.”
As Bai Zhou spoke, Zhou Qian stood up and glanced down the corridor.
What Zhou Qian was looking at was the direction of Exhibition Hall A. He narrowed his eyes and said, “Let’s make a bold assumption… If we are going to see Ruan Mei, then she isn’t just an NPC from a so-called virtual game, but the real her.”
……
10 minutes later.
Deep within a pitch-black corridor, a section suddenly lit up.
Everyone then saw that there was another hall up ahead, labeled D.
The sign with the letter “D” flashed with a white light and quickly dimmed.
Soon after, three people came out from there. They all looked like zombies, clearly having gone through something horrifying.
A worker in a white dress appeared out of thin air, guiding the three people to a resting area. She said, “There are now 11 visitors. The requirements for opening Hall C have been met. Considering some people just came out of Hall D and need a rest, I’ll invite everyone to proceed to Hall C in a quarter of an hour. Please wait a moment.”
Seeing this, Zhou Qian signaled He Xiaowei.
He Xiaowei got the hint and quickly walked towards the three people, presumably to gather some information from them.
However, the three people sat down and began to sob inconsolably.
After waiting for a full 15 minutes, He Xiaowei couldn’t find an opportunity to speak and had to give up.
So, Zhou Qian and the others temporarily didn’t find out what they had experienced in Hall D.
15 minutes later, a group of 11 “visitors” finally entered Hall C.
The door to Hall C opened and then closed, trapping all the players inside.
The first exhibition room was labeled C-1, styled exactly like Hall A Zhou Qian had previously visited— the ceiling, floor, and walls were all uniform white.
However, there weren’t any corpses. Only a lamp was present.
The lamp was placed alone in the center of the room. The shade was beautiful, with a lovely pattern and many colors, including blue, purple, and green… The mingling of these colors formed countless hues, like a fine piece of art.
Upon closer inspection, it resembled the feather of a peacock with its tail fanned out.
Although the pattern was colorful, the lampshade itself was a dark yellow, reminiscent of aged paper.
As a result, the white light from within took on a warm yellow tone, a somewhat gloomy hue.
Next to the lamp on the floor was a placard with two characters: “Meng Lin.”
“Fuck, what does this mean? Is the deceased a lamp?”
“But it’s better than Hall B. That place was disgusting. Forget about NPCs, I might not eat meat for three months!” He Xiaowei exclaimed as he reached out to grab the lamp. However, Zhou Qian slapped his hand away.
Rubbing his sore hand, He Xiaowei looked at Zhou Qian in grievance. “Why did you hit me?”
Zhou Qian warned him, “Don’t touch these things. Who knows if this instance might be a fantasy-based scenario.”
He Xiaowei: “Really?”
Zhou Qian blinked. “Yeah. Rub the lamp three times, and you might summon Aladdin.”
Three seconds later, He Xiaowei exclaimed, “Qian’er, you’re pulling my leg again, aren’t you!”
Zhou Qian pulled He Xiaowei aside, saying softly, “To find clues and gather as much information as possible, we have to go to every exhibition room. But a friendly reminder, don’t touch anything. If you really need to, wear gloves. By the way—”
“Do you have any invisible gloves or similar items?”
“Oh, I do. I’ll get it for you.”
He Xiaowei indeed took out a pair of invisible gloves and handed them to Zhou Qian. “But why?”
“I’ll tell you once I’m sure. Just remember this. Don’t let the other players notice.” Zhou Qian quickly put on the gloves and extended his hand to He Xiaowei. “Give me another pair.”
He Xiaowei: ?
Zhou Qian: “I need another pair for 137.”
He Xiaowei: “But they’re a Rank God player. What props don’t they have? Why would they need my stuff?”
Zhou Qian straightforwardly asked, “So, can I have it?”
He Xiaowei sighed. “… Fine, take it.”
“You’re such a great person, Xiaowei Ge. Worthy of being the favorite in our team. Oh, I haven’t introduced Xiao Qi to you yet. With your friendly personality, he’ll like you as much as I do—”
Before Zhou Qian could finish, the collar of his colorful robe was suddenly hooked by a finger.
Turning around, Zhou Qian saw Bai Zhou.
Bai Zhou, holding onto Zhou Qian’s collar, led him back to the lamp.
“What’s the matter?” Zhou Qian asked.
Bai Zhou simply said, “There’s something on the lamp.”
Zhou Qian glanced and saw that the other seven had already rushed to the second hall. He handed the gloves he got from He Xiaowei to Bai Zhou and then picked up the lampshade.
Having already examined the lampshade itself, Zhou Qian now focused on its base.
There was indeed something there.
Zhou Qian found a symbol engraved at the bottom— “卐”.
“Did the others also see this?” Zhou Qian asked Bai Zhou.
Bai Zhou nodded, then seemed hesitant to speak.
Placing down the lamp, Zhou Qian curiously asked him, “What’s wrong? Do you have any thoughts about this symbol?”
Bai Zhou shook his head and began walking towards Exhibition Hall 2.
Zhou Qian followed with surprise. “What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.” Bai Zhou slowed down and finally said, “I have many gloves like this.”
Zhou Qian: “Huh?”
Bai Zhou: “You can ask me for them.”
Zhou Qian: “Alright. 69%.”
Bai Zhou: “?”
Zhou Qian, hooking his arm around Bai Zhou’s neck, directed him towards Exhibition Hall 2. “Never mind. Let’s move to the next hall!”
Exhibition Hall 2 indeed had a body.
The corpse’s head was covered with a nylon bag, and all four limbs were tied.
The body was in a twisted posture; the limbs completely deformed, as if someone had brutally beaten and forcibly broken them, then molded them into a specific shape.
Removing the nylon bag revealed the head was bludgeoned beyond recognition, making it almost impossible to determine the gender.
However, after removing the clothes for examination, it was evident the corpse was male. A particular mutilation made almost every male present feel a chill down their spine—a part of him had been cruelly cut off.
The victim appeared to have been beaten to death, and the state of the corpse, including the treatment it received, hinted at a mysterious ritualistic intent. Turning the body over confirmed their suspicions—there was a pentagram on his back.
Zhou Qian heard Bai Zhou whisper in his ear, “The pentagram is inverted.”
He Xiaowei, following close behind with sharp ears, overheard and immediately asked, “Why?”
Zhou Qian explained, “A normal pentagram has a single point at the top. An inverted one has two points up. This is a reversed pentagram.”
“What’s the significance?” He Xiaowei couldn’t help but ask.
Bai Zhou replied, “There’s a belief that the inverted pentagram leads people to hell. It’s the symbol of Satanism.”
Zhou Qian glanced at Bai Zhou, now communicating with him privately through a messaging tool. “Considering our earlier theory about the exhibition hall’s temporal overlap, we might be seeing a corpse from the past. We just can’t see the exact environment where it existed. If this truly involves Satan… perhaps he was tied to an inverted cross, which we can’t see.”
“It’s possible,” Bai Zhou said.
Exhibition Hall C had a total of 13 halls. Six of them contained no corpses and were filled with an artistic aura, similar to the lamp in Hall 1.
The other seven had bodies, both male and female, each with a nylon bag over their heads. While their manner of death was somewhat similar, the treatment of their bodies varied. If the treatment of the man in Hall 2 was akin to a punishment, what the women faced was completely different, suggesting a sinister ritualistic motive.
After visiting all 12 halls, the players returned to Hall 1.
[Welcome to Hall C of the “Murder Exhibition”]
[Face the horrors of humanity once again!]
[The museum owner believes that after your visit, your ability to protect yourself will be greatly enhanced!]
[This time, your experience spans four days. Your goal: to still be alive after four days.]
After these lines appeared, the scene shifted, and the players found themselves in an entirely unfamiliar city. Before them stood a 12-story hotel.
Amidst the dark night, a bright sign on the side of the hotel stood out, reading: [Saiya Hotel.]
Kinky Translations 