(6/6)
Lucky Cruise
Chapter 573: How can you be sure I’ll help you?
Behind the door Kong Wei had smashed open lay a dark and deep corridor.
The group exchanged glances, then silently stepped inside, moving forward as cautiously and quickly as possible.
The further they went, the heavier the smell of blood in the air became. The scent settled in their nasal cavities and clung to their tongues, making them almost taste the heavy flavor of rust.
A faint ray of light seeped in from ahead.
Finally, they reached the end of the corridor.
By the light, Wen Jianyan finally found the source of the bloody smell.
It was “horses.”
To be precise, dead “horses.”
Distorted and deformed bodies were hung side by side in midair by metal hooks. Below them was a trough, making them look like slabs of pork cut open in a freezer. Yet, each slab of “pork” had a human face—painful, twisted, desperate, terrified faces. Their expressions were permanently frozen in death.
However, apart from that, it was almost difficult to find other human characteristics.
Elongated and deformed limbs were covered in countless wounds of all kinds—varied, overlapping. Judging solely by the shape of the wounds, it was nearly impossible to determine their origin. The only certainty was that the deceased had endured unimaginable pain before death.
This place was simply a veritable slaughterhouse.
Staring at this scene that challenged the limits of human psychology, everyone’s expression was grim.
Whoever they were, they were suppressing their imagination, trying not to envision worse scenarios—such as a fresh corpse, a familiar face.
“Why hang these corpses here?”
Wen Ya frowned and whispered.
Chen Mo: “More importantly, how do we find the dealer?”
Although they didn’t know the dealer’s exact location, according to the images on the screen in the racecourse, the place where the dealer was located should be a decent enough room, definitely not this bloody slaughterhouse before them.
And this space was too large. Looking around, one could only see rows of corpses hanging in the air. Finding a way to leave quickly in such a limited field of view was undoubtedly difficult.
Before the group could reach a conclusion, suddenly, a sharp zzzt sound came from overhead. Immediately after, a distorted voice came from the loudspeaker:
“Good evening, uninvited guests.”
The tone was impassioned and cheerful. Even through the static noise, one could still identify the voice belonging to the [No.9] dealer.
“As the manager of this area, I regret to inform you that you are not welcome here…”
Everyone’s heart tightened. They instinctively looked up and scanned around. Soon, they saw surveillance cameras with red lights on overhead—clearly, all their actions here were under the dealer’s watchful eye.
“…However, that is not my way of hospitality,” [No.9] dealer’s voice suddenly carried a hint of eerie amusement at this moment. “Since you like this place so much, why not stay here forever?”
The instant her voice fell, a familiar clanging sound suddenly came from the distance—
Like the clink-clank of heavy iron chains dragging across the ground.
“?!” Wen Jianyan’s breath hitched.
Bad news, it’s the Debt Collectors!
The sound of dragging chains came from all directions. Separated by rows of corpses, it was hard to know how many Debt Collectors there were, nor could they determine which direction they were approaching from.
But they all knew the consequence of being caught by a Debt Collector: becoming one of the racehorses.
Accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, a row of corpses on the left was suddenly lifted, and a thick, heavy iron chain smashed down from above!
The sound of the wind was abruptly cut off in mid-air.
Clang! Metal resounded.
At some point, a pitch-black Tang sword had appeared in Chen Cheng’s hand, drawing a snow-bright arc in the air, actually forcefully parrying the blow.
“Leave this to me.”
He said sternly without turning his head.
Almost the instant his voice fell, the group of corpses on the right was lifted again, and a second Debt Collector appeared, raising its chain towards Chen Cheng’s back. But in the next second, the originally solid ground beneath its feet suddenly softened, gripping it tightly like a swamp—it was Wen Ya’s talent. The Debt Collector stumbled, the chain in its hand deviating from its original direction and smashing heavily onto the ground beside Chen Cheng’s feet, instantly cracking the floor.
Wen Ya gritted her teeth, speaking extremely fast: “I’ll stay too. You guys find the way out, quick!”
There was more than one Debt Collector, possibly even more than two. Chen Cheng’s talent was purely offensive, making it difficult to hold them all back, but with Wen Ya, it was different.
Not far away, Chen Cheng let out a somewhat indignant tsk, but ultimately didn’t object.
“Okay.” Chen Mo nodded, decisive. “Be careful.”
Now was not the time to play the hero. Leaving two people to hold back the combat force while the others found a way out was the most rational method.
“Let’s go.”
Wen Jianyan stood in place, his gaze landing on the few corpses just split open by Chen Cheng’s Tang sword. He paused slightly, and only a few seconds later did he look away and follow Chen Mo’s footsteps.
The group ran quickly between rows of corpses. However, this space was astonishingly large. Surrounded by dense corpses, no matter how long they ran, there seemed to be no change, making it completely impossible to discern direction.
Chen Mo gritted his teeth: “We’re wasting time.”
Although items effective in an SS-rank instance were rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, it seemed they had reached a point where they had to use them.
Suddenly, Wen Jianyan spoke up. Due to running, his breath was somewhat unsteady: “Incomplete.”
“Do you remember Wen Ya asking earlier why the corpses are hung here? I also found it strange. After all, this isn’t an area anchors can access. Why hang them up one by one? Until just now, when Chen Cheng split the corpses with his sword and blood flowed down, I realized…”
Saying this, Wen Jianyan pointed to the trough beside them: “These corpses have been hanging here for so long, but the trough below is empty.”
“…Because it flowed away.” Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, then his eyes suddenly lit up. “They are collecting blood!”
“Right.” Wen Jianyan nodded.
“So as long as we follow the direction of the blood flow, we can reach the destination,” Chang Feiyu also felt a boost in spirit. “Great, we need more blood!”
As soon as the words fell, the group immediately sprang into action. They cut the corpses with sharp tools, and uncollected blood immediately dripped down, quickly gathering from a trickle into a stream. Even though there was no gentle slope in the trough, the blood moved like a red snake, beginning to flow rapidly in the same direction.
This proved Wen Jianyan’s deduction was correct.
“Quick! Follow it!”
“Hey, what are you doing?” Maggie realized Blondie’s gaze had shifted away from the racecourse and immediately became anxious. “The race isn’t over yet!”
“Ji Guan is being targeted,”
Blondie’s voice had become hoarse at some point. “We can’t win!”
Maggie was startled: “…What?”
She turned her head, subconsciously looking in the direction Blondie was staring.
The racecourse was too big. Only the track was illuminated; everywhere else was pitch black, allowing all madness, greed, desire, and cruelty to ferment within. In Maggie’s eyes, the surroundings were like a chaotic vortex; aside from the roar of noise, nothing else could be seen clearly.
But for Blondie, everything was different.
He could see the expressions on everyone’s faces. Their faces were flushed red, expressions ferocious, eyes staring bewitched at the racecourse in the center. Through a layer of blood-red film, he could even clearly see the spittle spraying as they screamed, and the veins popping on their tightly clenched fists.
“Over there.” Blondie’s gaze landed on a corner in the darkness, speaking with certainty.
Maggie: “You mean…”
“The person who wants Ji Guan dead is there.” Blondie turned his head. “We have to do something.”
It was still that delicate, soft, almost weak and bullied-looking face, but his eyes were bloodshot red from overusing his talent, appearing strangely unfamiliar.
Maggie: “Don’t act rashly yet. Let me ask the vice president and the others.”
She quickly typed out the predicament they were currently facing and sent it to Wen Ya, but the message seemed to sink into the ocean, with no response for a long time.
During this time, neither Blondie nor Maggie forgot their task—unfortunately, the disadvantage of losing vision wasn’t easily compensated for. Even though Maggie’s instructions were clear and precise enough, Ji Guan still inevitably made mistakes. In just over ten minutes, several more bloody gashes were added to his body. One of them, deviating by just an inch, could have sliced open his stomach completely and robbed him of his mobility.
“Did the vice president reply?” Blondie urged through gritted teeth.
“…No.” Maggie’s condition wasn’t good either. Her ability consumption was too great; sweat pouring from her face had almost soaked through her clothes. She looked down at her phone; the message box was still blank.
Maggie knew Wen Ya wouldn’t ignore their messages unless… they were also encountering a dangerous situation that demanded their full attention, leaving them no time to check their phones.
Just a moment of distraction, and Ji Guan stumbled again on the track. A long nail drilled into the sole of his foot. He stumbled forward, the track behind him dyed red at some point.
Blondie: “…Can’t wait any longer.”
Maggie gritted her teeth, asking back almost in despair: “But the problem is, what can we do?”
To ensure the plan’s implementation, the main force of the team was on the other side. Of the two of them, one was a medium and the other had enhanced vision; neither was a combatant. More importantly, they were both more or less nearing their limits now.
Blondie’s fingers on his knees clenched in a spasm. He raised his crimson eyes to look at the track, unblinking, not missing a single detail.
He didn’t have Chen Mo’s calmness and leadership, nor Wen Ya’s meticulousness and attentiveness. His talent couldn’t fight, predict, or change anything. He had no guts, no wisdom, no ability. All he could do was [See].
From childhood to adulthood, he had always been like this: afraid of participating in anything, afraid of becoming any character. He was always just a spectator, and could only ever be a spectator.
Whether in the real world or in the instance, he was a weakling, a coward hiding behind everyone else.
Watching people struggle, watching people suffer.
Watching people live, watching people die.
Blondie’s lips twisted, his voice weak as if forced out: “We have to do something.”
I have to do something.
This time, he finally couldn’t watch anymore, because he could no longer tolerate himself merely watching.
He forced himself to withdraw his gaze from the track. His blood-filmed eyes rolled, searching—what he did best was [See]. Only this time, he lost the brain that could help him think and make decisions. How to process this information relied solely on himself.
Finally, Blondie’s gaze landed on a corner in the darkness. His lips opened and closed, whispering:
“I know.”
Racecourse, Second Floor.
A shadow stood in the corridor. He didn’t enter a private box, nor did he participate in the betting; he simply let himself be submerged in the darkness.
All the noise seemed thousands of miles away from him. He just stood there lonely, like a ghost belonging only to the shadows.
Until…
“Su Cheng.”
A familiar voice called him from not far away.
The ghost moved, turning his head to reveal a calm, pale face.
“How did you find me?” Su Cheng was astonished.
His gaze fell on Blondie, and as if realizing how stupid his question was, he shook his head. “Never mind.”
“The Oracle wants to dismantle Ji Guan on the racecourse, right?” Blondie’s voice was still trembling slightly, carrying unstable breaths.
Su Cheng didn’t answer this obvious question.
Blondie didn’t need him to answer either.
“I want to save Ji Guan,” Blondie was trembling all over, but his blood-red eyes stared straight at his former teammate, appearing exceptionally stubborn. “But I need your help with this.”
Su Cheng stared at him fixedly for a moment: “How are you sure I will help you?”
He took two steps out, leaving the shadow where he hid: “I am now the Oracle’s vice president too, aren’t I?”
Su Cheng’s tone was sharp, seemingly mocking and sarcastic: “Besides, maybe this is exactly what I wanted to see. Otherwise, how could I be kind enough to proactively provide you with intelligence?”
“I’m not sure.” Blondie’s voice suddenly stopped trembling. “But I know, you don’t want Ji Guan to die either.”
He kept his eyes wide open, those eyes that could see through everything. The depths of his eyes were crimson, as if blood would spill from the corners in the next second:
“Otherwise, you wouldn’t have dared to look back even once from start to finish.”
