Thank you @rosesfallindown for the Kofi. (1/2)
Lucky Cruise Ship
Chapter 621: Captain’s Cabin
What lay at the end of the pipes?
What was the strange liquid flowing inside, capable of creating fierce ghosts?
“…”
Wen Jianyan stared intently at the wall before him. His breathing quickened, and he could almost hear the sound of blood pounding against his eardrums.
In his mind, numerous clues seemed ready to connect into a line, piecing together a picture. Just one more thing, just one last piece—
Without warning, the floor beneath their feet suddenly jolted.
What’s happening?!
Startled, everyone jerked their heads up, instinctively looking around.
A dull, thunderous sound came from deep within the walls… It was hard to describe, like a precursor to the ship’s keel collapsing, a steel beast letting out a dying wail in the deep sea. It had no source but seemed to come from all directions, sending a chill down the spine of anyone who heard it.
A thought that made everyone’s hair stand on end gradually surfaced in their minds.
The ship… is it going to sink?
But it was much earlier than they had anticipated!
BOOM!!!
Another loud noise.
This time, the entire corridor began to shake. Everyone struggled to stand steady. Wu Zhu quickly reached out to grab Wen Jianyan to prevent him from falling.
Wen Jianyan habitually used the support to stabilize himself, turning to look at Wu Zhu and asking urgently:
“How much longer?”
“Very soon.” Wu Zhu glanced toward the depths of the corridor.
He tightened his grip on Wen Jianyan’s wrist, pulling him up. “Follow me.”
Just like that, amidst countless eerie tremors, everyone began to run with all their might.
Wen Jianyan considered himself fairly fit, but even so, under the increasingly intense shaking beneath his feet, running was extremely difficult. His vision blurred from the flickering lights. Amidst the chaos, the force on his wrist was firm and steady, dragging him forward.
His fingertips twitched, but he didn’t pull his hand back.
The corridor was complex but didn’t pose too much of an obstacle.
The group sped through the long, narrow red passage. Due to the ship’s vibrations and changing lights, the surrounding corridor became a blur.
Although Wen Jianyan couldn’t be entirely sure of their current location, he could feel… they were getting closer and closer to their destination.
Wu Zhu suddenly stopped.
His movement was abrupt. Wen Jianyan nearly failed to brake in time, almost crashing into him.
The others were the same, stopping breathlessly. As veteran anchors, their stamina wasn’t bad, but on this path, their energy seemed to drain inexplicably fast. Even just running felt more exhausting than usual.
“Here,” Wu Zhu spoke slowly.
His voice was flat, but the information it contained made everyone catch their breath.
At this moment, the place the other referred to… there could only be one.
The core of the entire ship.
Everyone instinctively looked up ahead. Just a few steps away lay a tightly closed cabin door. A rusty nameplate hung on it, with several words engraved.
Upon seeing the contents, their chests tightened—
[Captain’s Room].
Sure enough, the Captain’s Room wasn’t located on the Negative 17th Floor like the other anchors’ cabins, but here… in the deepest part of the ship.
If that were the case, then…
Was the Captain of the Lucky Cruise Ship—the number one on the Nightmare Livestream leaderboard, Guild Leader of Oracle—inside this closed door?
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Ahhh—]
[So nervous, feels like the final moment is coming…]
[So strange, is it a signal issue? Why do I feel the picture quality isn’t good, kinda laggy?]
[Yeah… right, it started lagging since they entered these corridors, but it wasn’t too obvious then.]
[Please, can it stop glitching at key moments?]
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath and stepped forward.
However, the moment his fingertips touched the cabin door’s surface, it slid open slowly and silently.
“—!” His heart skipped a beat.
The open cabin door revealed pitch darkness. Even the red light covering the corridor seemed unable to penetrate it. The profound, all-consuming blackness lay before them, making them want to retreat.
“Ready?” Staring into the darkness, Wen Jianyan asked softly.
“Of course.” Wen Ya nodded.
She didn’t look at Wen Jianyan; her voice remained as calm and determined as ever.
“Nonsense,” Chen Cheng rolled his eyes rudely, his tone unchanged. “We went through so much trouble to get here, and you’re asking this?”
However… regardless of what awaited inside this door, for them, there was no other choice but to walk through it.
Wen Jianyan: “Let’s go.”
Without looking back, the young man took a step forward. In the next second, the darkness swallowed his figure.
At that same moment, the livestream screen went black instantly and didn’t light up for a long time.
“…”
“What happened?”
“What’s the situation?”
The screen was pitch black. Inside the livestream room, all the attentive viewers were stunned. It took them a few seconds to realize the darkness wasn’t normal—not just the image, even the sound was cut off—so the audience looked at each other in confusion, momentarily unsure of what happened.
Until a line of unfamiliar text slowly appeared on the screen.
[Sensitive content detected in the livestream. Temporary ban and blocking initiated.]
Instantly, the entire livestream room erupted.
[What?!]
[No, what are you saying?!]
[Sensitive content? Sensitive content my ass! Never seen anything unbroadcastable in the livestream before!!]
[F*** your *** Nightmare, are you *** crazy?! We spent so many points just to be treated like this?]
Viewers forced to stop watching spewed vicious words, countless curses pouring angrily towards the Nightmare itself.
[Don’t you have a clue why we watch livestreams here?? You—]
[Community sensitive content detected. Temporary mute initiated for select accounts.]
The screen, originally dense with text, cleared up by more than half instantly.
A gentle, peaceful mechanical female voice echoed in the vast livestream room:
“We apologize for the poor viewing experience. However, due to the upcoming content having a high probability of significantly impacting your subsequent entertainment experience—for your entertainment, the Nightmare Livestream will do its utmost and give everything—thus, we have decided to temporarily close the livestream. Compensation points have been sent to your accounts. Please proceed to other anchor rooms for more exciting content.”
“Die for entertainment.”
The voice repeated over and over, overlapping, almost becoming a dizzying, eerie rhythm.
“Live for entertainment.”
“—Nightmare Livestream sincerely at your service.”
The Captain’s Room was originally pitch black.
But the moment they stepped inside, the lights immediately turned on.
Under the sudden brightness, everyone was startled. Although they maintained outward calm, their vigilance was already at its peak.
Blood-red overhead lights crawled across their vision like living worms.
What appeared before them was a massive space with an extremely high ceiling, almost suffocating in size.
Contrary to imagination, inside the Captain’s Room…
There was nothing.
Not only were there no daily necessities and infrastructure that should exist in a normal cabin, but even the bizarre facilities and terrifying entities they were prepared to face were nowhere to be found.
Everything within sight was empty.
But how was this possible?
Just as everyone was dazed, Ma Qi suddenly exclaimed: “Hey, look up!”
Following Ma Qi’s finger, everyone looked up.
Where the ceiling should have been, strange wooden structures stretched across.
They crisscrossed each other, forming a spiderweb-like pattern, looking particularly eerie.
“Wait, I think I’ve seen this somewhere…” Wen Jianyan seemed to realize something. He narrowed his eyes, turned on his flashlight, and shone it upwards.
The wooden surface had mottled varnish, appearing very old.
“!” A spark flashed in Wen Jianyan’s mind, and he reacted instantly.
The cockpit!
Before the instance started, he had snuck into the Lucky Cruise Ship’s cockpit. Despite modern screens everywhere, in the center of the cockpit stood an old-fashioned ship’s wheel that looked completely out of place.
Because it looked so unique, it left a deep impression on Wen Jianyan.
After the instance started, the time he went to the deck to find clues and escaped from the debt collector was precisely because he turned the wheel in time, causing the ship to lose balance briefly.
In other words, they were actually directly below the cockpit.
For the first time, Wen Jianyan had a rough idea of the [Captain’s Room]‘s location.
Recalling the terrifying noise from deep within the ship the moment he turned the wheel…
Wen Jianyan was thoughtful.
It seemed these strange wooden beams might be the ship’s actual skeleton.
No wonder such a small wheel could control such a massive vessel.
And those negative-numbered cabins reaching eighteen floors deep were likely just attached to these wooden beams in some parallel state.
So, when the accommodation floors on Negative 8 and 9 were eroded by seawater, the Negative 7th Floor used for auctions and the Negative 1st to 6th Floors used for casinos could still remain intact.
The wooden beams extended towards the depths of the room.
“Go,” Wen Jianyan retracted his flashlight, speaking decisively. “Let’s look inside.”
So, the group walked quickly towards the depths of the Captain’s Room—this space was much larger than they imagined. After walking for nearly three minutes, they finally reached the end.
However, what awaited them was a pitch-black wall.
…Huh?
Everyone exchanged blank glances, involuntarily looking up again at the wooden structure above.
That’s right, these masts did indeed lead in this direction and eventually disappeared into the depths of the black wall.
Wen Jianyan frowned and walked forward.
He tentatively placed his hand on the wall. The cold, smooth touch made him pause slightly.
This feeling… glass?
Unnoticed, Wu Zhu walked to his side. Under the eerie lighting, a strange blood-red hue reflected deep in his eyes.
Just like the first time seeing the oil painting on this ship, in this instant, his human side seemed stripped away again. His gaze was cold and distinct, shadows dancing within.
“It’s right here.”
“My heart is hidden deep inside as the furnace core, but it doesn’t seem to be powering the ship itself…”
Wu Zhu frowned.
“Then for what?” Wen Jianyan asked.
“Another… weirder thing.” Wu Zhu seemed somewhat confused.
“It seems to have imitated my existence,” he pressed his palm against the wall. His cold white skin formed a blinding contrast with the pitch-black glass, veins bulging on the back of his hand from exertion. “…My power has been cut off.”
He finally understood now why he couldn’t enter this ship independently at first, and after entering, couldn’t connect to his origin.
It was precisely because his heart was utilized in a very unique way, even imitating his existence.
That was why such a bizarre situation was created.
“Imitate?” Wen Jianyan paused.
He suddenly remembered the pitch-black liquid like asphalt seen many times in this instance—the bodies of anchors killed by rules seemed filled with similar substances.
And Wu Zhu’s power origin was darkness.
Suddenly, many doubts seemed to be explained.
“…Okay.”
Wen Jianyan gave Wu Zhu a deep look.
He took two steps back and briefly ordered everyone:
“Smash it.”
One after another, countless usable items poured down, but they couldn’t cause a single scratch on the pitch-black glass wall. Under a minute of continuous bombardment, its surface remained as smooth as new, without a trace.
“I’ll try,” Kong Wei said muffledly.
From his shoulder to his neck, his skin transformed into a rock-like texture. He took several steps back, then accelerated, slamming solidly into it.
Bang!
Once.
Bang! Twice.
This time, fine, shallow lines finally began to appear on the black glass.
It works!
“…Ugh.”
Wen Jianyan keenly caught a very low grunt.
The voice was too familiar; without needing to think, he could match it with the voice in his memory.
“Wu Zhu?”
Wen Jianyan was stunned, turning to look in the direction of the sound.
A black shadow pressed down. Wen Jianyan was startled. Before he could react, he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder.
He jolted, reflexively reaching out to push:
“Hey, you—”
“…Don’t move.”
A suppressed voice sounded right by his ear. In the voice of someone who rarely showed emotional fluctuations, Wen Jianyan caught clear… pain for the first time.
Wen Jianyan froze. He hesitated, but in the end, didn’t push Wu Zhu away.
“What’s wrong?” His voice softened unconsciously.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes shifted, almost instantly finding the most likely problem: “Is something wrong with the heart serving as the furnace core?”
A hoarse, low affirmation came from beside his ear.
“…Yes.”
Wen Jianyan supported his shoulders. As the back of his hand brushed past Wu Zhu’s cheek, the unexpected touch made him pause—on that cold, marble-like skin, he felt dripping cold sweat for the first time.
In the past, no matter how severe the injuries transferred to himself were, Wu Zhu’s expression never changed. Because of this, it took Wen Jianyan so long to discover the truth of the “healing.” Even two consecutive blade stabs through the heart seemed to have little effect on Wu Zhu—Wen Jianyan even suspected that pain didn’t exist for this guy.
It wasn’t unreasonable; after all, Wu Zhu wasn’t human. Not feeling pain was normal, right?
But now…
The other’s reaction seemed to break Wen Jianyan’s consistent impression.
Maybe… this guy wasn’t immune to pain, but previous levels just weren’t enough.
Wen Jianyan frowned in thought for a moment, then suddenly said:
“Since we’ve reached the destination, go into the ring. I’ll call you when the glass opens.”
Wu Zhu frowned.
Seeing the other didn’t intend to obey simply, Wen Jianyan felt a bit annoyed.
He leaned in close, whispering in Wu Zhu’s ear with a voice only the two could hear, gritting his teeth:
“Come on, get in quickly…”
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, looked behind him as if overcoming some psychological barrier, and finally managed to soften his voice:
“Be good.”
“…”
Wu Zhu’s eyes flickered.
He took a deep look at Wen Jianyan and finally complied.
Watching the other’s figure disappear, Wen Jianyan turned the ring at the base of his finger, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
Ouroboros had always been able to block Nightmare’s surveillance and influence.
Although he didn’t know how useful it was for pain relief, at least it was better than leaving him outside…
“Eh…”
Just then, a voice suddenly sounded by his ear.
“?!” Wen Jianyan was startled by the sudden sound and jerked his head around.
It turned out Figaro had sidled up to him at some point.
The other narrowed his long, thin fox eyes, his gaze sly, a smile on his lips: “Where did your friend go?”
Wen Jianyan had thought of a response long ago: “Him? That’s because of some unexpected circumstances, so—”
Unexpectedly, Figaro interrupted him: “So, what exactly is the relationship between you and your… ‘friend’?”
Wen Jianyan turned his head in astonishment: “…What?”
Figaro kept his voice very low, ensuring only the two of them could hear. “Others might not have noticed, but I saw it. When he suddenly appeared just now, he was actually holding your hand, right?”
“And back at the auction, and when running in the corridor just now…
He counted on his fingers.
“…” One by one, these incidents were laid out. Wen Jianyan broke out in a cold sweat listening to it.
Before he reached his limit of tolerance, Figaro finally stopped listing specific events.
He looked at Wen Jianyan, eyes filled with an intense interest in gossip completely unsuited to the occasion:
“So, dating?”
He seemed completely lacking in self-awareness about prying into others’ privacy.
He even leaned a bit closer:
“Don’t worry, I respect and understand all orientations, and I promise to keep your secret. We’re already in the Nightmare, so what does it matter if you date a non-human? Everyone has their preferences. If it’s non-human, the tricks you can play are surely…”
Wen Jianyan’s head buzzed with heat.
Seeing Figaro about to express more “insights,” he interrupted with his scalp tingling, “Are you done yet?!”
“Sigh, why so agitated?” Figaro was startled by him, quickly taking a step back and raising his hands in surrender. “I was just curious…”
“Curious?” Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth, slowly forcing a fake smile at him. “Why aren’t you curious about where Dan Zhu is right now? I thought that would be more important to you.”
Figaro: “…”
What a vicious retort.
“Don’t forget our agreement,” Wen Jianyan said coldly. “Go smash the glass.”
Figaro: “…Okay.”
He walked away dejectedly.
Watching the other join the glass-breaking team and resume work, only then did Wen Jianyan relax his tense shoulders and let out a small breath.
He raised a hand to pinch his slightly hot earlobe, recalling what Figaro just said, feeling somewhat lucky.
Fortunately, Wu Zhu was put back into the ring early and didn’t hear a word of that.
However…
Wen Jianyan lowered his eyes and pressed his lips together, feeling a bit suspicious.
No way?
Does my interaction with Wu Zhu really look very…
Wrong?
Wen Jianyan’s fingertips moved, seemingly unconsciously wanting to turn the Ouroboros ring on his hand, but before doing so, he thought of something and forcefully held back.
Damn it.
He lowered his hand and cast a cold glance at Figaro not far away.
It’s all because that guy has no filter.
It seems I didn’t rip him off hard enough.
“Achoo!”
Figaro rubbed his nose unexpectedly, his back to Wen Jianyan.
Strange, as a veteran anchor, my body shouldn’t be weak enough to catch a cold, right?
Fortunately, Figaro’s interruption somewhat distracted Wen Jianyan, allowing him to focus all his energy back on the task at hand.
Under everyone’s full-force destruction, the glass had cracked, with fine, dense lines spreading.
Kong Wei, however, seemed to have reached his limit. His face turned pale, and the rock-like texture on his body began to flicker.
“Alright, move,” Chen Cheng pulled him aside. “Let me.”
In the next second, the pitch-black Tang sword materialized, tearing through the air, whistling as it smashed viciously into the center of the fine cracks.
Crack—
An indistinct sound of shattering glass followed.
Good!
Seeing this, everyone’s spirits lifted.
“See,” Chen Cheng raised an eyebrow, quite satisfied. “Strong, right?”
An Xin: “Not bad, count me in too.”
Drawing the bowstring, the arrow flew.
Crack! The sound of shattering glass became clearer.
A viscous fluid trickled down from that small crack.
Seeing their goal about to be achieved, everyone became even more high-spirited. They gathered their strength, ready to take this opportunity to break through this obstacle in one go.
But just then…
A very soft sigh suddenly sounded from behind them.
“Please stop.”
…Wait, this voice?
Seeming to recognize the owner of the voice, everyone’s pupils involuntarily contracted.
They turned their heads in unison, looking sharply behind them.
At the edge of their vision, a figure slowly walked out of the shadows—clearly, that place was empty when they arrived. No one knew when he came or how he evaded everyone’s detection.
“I didn’t want to meet you under these circumstances.”
The Tarot Master, whom they hadn’t seen for a long time, gazed at them, his pitch-black eyes bottomless.
“But, as things stand, I have to stop you from continuing.”
“Su Cheng.”
Wen Jianyan spoke slowly.
“Long time no see.”
“…”
Su Cheng stopped abruptly. He looked at Wen Jianyan, his tone gentle as always, speaking slowly:
“Guild Leader, go back.”
“Go back?” Wen Jianyan looked at him, speaking softly. “Impossible.”
The two sides confronted each other. Although separated by only a few steps, the distance between them felt like a chasm.
“I really… didn’t want you to find this place,” Su Cheng lowered his eyes, his voice like a sigh. “However, clearly I was too naive. From the first instance, you’ve been like this. No matter how many distractions, no matter how high the difficulty, you always seem to find the correct path—even though I’ve tried my best, it seems I can’t truly stop you no matter what.”
“In that case, why not try a different way?” Wen Jianyan stared fixedly at him. “For example, tell me what you know, why you are here, and what you want to achieve?”
Su Cheng’s eyes flickered.
Just when others thought he might be slightly wavering—
“Or else?”
The Tarot Master asked methodically.
“Or else?” Wen Jianyan smiled lightly, but there wasn’t much warmth in the smile. “Or else I’ll ensure things won’t end the way you hope.”
He retracted his smile, expressionless:
“You know I have the ability, and I can do it.”
Behind him, the others had already entered a state of alert.
Clearly, once Wen Jianyan gave the order, they would plunge into battle without hesitation.
The power disparity was stark. If it really came to a head-on clash, the Tarot Master, acting alone and as a Prophet, couldn’t win.
“…”
Su Cheng stared fixedly at him.
Friends who once knew each other in humble beginnings now stood at daggers drawn like enemies.
Finally, after several long seconds, he spoke.
“Alright.”
“What do you want to know?”
Wen Jianyan: “Why not start with your purpose?”
“Whether joining Oracle or entering the cruise ship, all my planning, all my arrangements… were all to come here.”
Su Cheng said slowly.
“Here, I will become the new Captain of this ship.”
He gazed at Wen Jianyan from a distance, his expression almost earnest. “When that time comes, trust me, I will let everything end just like this.”
“Let everything… end?” Wen Jianyan frowned.
“Correct,” Su Cheng nodded, articulating clearly, “Everything.”
“Everyone bound here will gain freedom because of it.” In the depths of the Tarot Master’s lightless eyes, a strange, almost obsessive brilliance flickered. “All anchors, all viewers, everything, including you, including me.”
How exactly to achieve that?
Wen Jianyan frowned, looking at the unfamiliar, almost possessed expression on the other’s face. He swallowed the question about to burst out. Experience dealing with all kinds of people told him he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted by asking that way. So, he wisely decided to switch questions.
“You say you will become the new Captain. Then what about the previous Captain?
As far as I know, the previous Captain is the Guild Leader of the Oracle Association, also the number one anchor on the Nightmare leaderboard. Will he allow you to do this?”
Wen Jianyan hadn’t dealt with the top two anchors.
The only one he dealt with was Dan Zhu, ranked third and Guild Leader of Eternal Day, and she nearly wiped out his team single-handedly—in that case, how could the Oracle Guild Leader be easy to deal with?
“Him?”
Su Cheng’s attitude was almost indifferent.
“Whether he allows it or not is meaningless now.”
“What do you mean?” Wen Jianyan sensed the strange implication and frowned deeper.
“Do you want to see him?” Su Cheng looked at Wen Jianyan and suddenly asked.
Wen Jianyan was stunned.
Su Cheng meant… the Oracle Guild Leader was right here?
Seeming to interpret Wen Jianyan’s silence as assent, Su Cheng stepped forward, arriving in front of that glass. Not knowing what he did, in the next second, the pitch-black on the glass surface began to disperse.
As the black curtain was gradually removed, the glass became crystal clear again, clearly revealing the secret hidden beneath it.
Precisely speaking, this wasn’t a glass wall, but a water tank large enough to occupy an entire wall.
Countless thin wires were connected deep in the tank. The liquid displayed a strange, viscous color under the light.
And floating in the liquid was a massive brain.
Wen Jianyan stared at this scene in astonishment.
…Brain in a vat.
After the Ping’an Sanatorium, he witnessed such a scene again. In an instant, all memories flooded into his mind like a tide.
The so-called Ping’an Sanatorium was an experiment to create a new god.
Some higher-dimensional, terrifying unknown existence provided humanity with “information” on god-creation. This information was carried on the human skin paper sealed in the black box and was covertly utilized by humans.
According to the faceless people in the laboratory, the brain in a vat was “sensitive to light.”
Presumably for this reason, the glass surface in front of them had to be covered with a black curtain.
“This is…”
Wen Jianyan’s lips moved, hearing his own voice echoing in his ears.
“Correct, this is the Guild Leader of Oracle, the true Nightmare Number One,” Su Cheng said.
He turned his head, his gaze falling on the brain suspended in the center of the liquid, no emotion on his face. “As you can see, he can no longer be considered human.”
“…I thought the ritual at Ping’an Sanatorium had failed,” Wen Jianyan’s voice was a bit rough.
“It did fail.”
Su Cheng said.
“So, it didn’t become a god, but just exists in another form… From the moment it became the cruise ship Captain, it took Nightmare’s will as its own, Nightmare’s purpose as its own, endlessly inflicting destruction.”
“In fact, in past instances, we’ve dealt with him more than once.”
Su Cheng turned his head to look at Wen Jianyan.
“It has been the Dean of Students at Decai Middle School, the Director cultivating ghost infants at Fukang General Hospital, the person in charge of leading experiments at Ping’an Sanatorium, the Principal engaging in major construction at Yuying Comprehensive University… It wanders in the cracks of this world, creating one instance after another.”
“…Zhang Yunsheng.”
This curse-like name blurted out.
“Yunsheng,” Su Cheng repeated, “Eternal life.”
“However, it doesn’t have much value now,” Su Cheng paused, adding, “As we know, the experiment at Ping’an Sanatorium was flawed. To some extent, it is destined to end.”
Indeed.
All shadows related to the person “Zhang Yunsheng” wandered in the past of each instance.
But in the current timeline, he had never appeared.
“Simply put, it exists forever in the memories of these instances, retaining some ability for free movement, but doesn’t fully possess consciousness. Existing in the crack of reality, neither living nor dead,” Su Cheng concluded. “A failure.”
“In that case,” Wen Jianyan asked, “why would you choose to become the second failure?”
“Someone has to be chosen as Captain.”
Su Cheng said calmly.
“If not me, it will be someone else.”
Su Cheng looked at Wen Jianyan, a trace of emotion suddenly flashing in his eyes.
At that moment, he seemed to become that green, naive Su Cheng who first entered the instance again, not the Oracle Vice Guild Leader honed by experience, the indifferent and paranoid Tarot Master.
“I know Yang Fan is in bad shape now… He killed an Administrator. If he doesn’t want to die in this instance, I’m afraid he can only stay forever.”
Su Cheng’s gaze fell on Blond. He scanned the other’s nearly blind eyes but didn’t seem surprised, seemingly already knowing the other’s condition.
Finally, he looked at Wen Jianyan, every word earnest:
“But I can reverse all this. Preparations are nearly complete. Just about twenty more minutes, and I can officially become the Captain of the Lucky Cruise Ship. By then, everything can return to the right track.”
“Just this once, just this time, please believe me…”
“Please.”
Wen Jianyan’s eyes flickered slightly. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but before he could speak, a loud BOOM was heard—the vibration that had just stopped not long ago came from beneath their feet again. This time, the vibration lasted longer and was more intense than usual.
Everyone swayed with it. Even Kong Wei and Chen Cheng, who had the best physical fitness, nearly fell.
In an instant, the familiar expression on Su Cheng’s face melted away completely. He turned his head, staring fixedly in a certain direction, his eyes turning cold:
“Damn it.”
The air gradually began to fill with the familiar scent of rotting flowers.
That fragrance became rich at a terrifying speed, filling everyone’s nasal cavities, making it almost hard to breathe.
With such a distinct sign, there could be no second person.
Dan Zhu was coming.
“I must go deal with the competitor, so I have to leave for a moment.”
Wen Jianyan looked up, meeting Su Cheng’s guilt-ridden eyes.
“But, I’m very sorry… I also can’t leave you here.”
He took a step back.
“Wait—”
Before Wen Jianyan could finish, the overhead lights suddenly vanished in the next second.
In the blink of an eye, everything around them was submerged in boundless darkness.
Shit!
Wen Jianyan cursed under his breath.
He immediately turned on his flashlight, but facing such viscous, heavy darkness, the flashlight beam seemed ineffective. It could barely illuminate a distance of ten centimeters in front, while everything else remained immersed in bottomless unknown.
By the dim light, he advanced cautiously, measuring the room he was in with his steps.
Just a few steps forward, Wen Jianyan reached the end.
He looked up, peering ahead by the light, and was astonished to find that blocking him was that scarlet wall made of thin pipes.
…What’s going on?
“It’s a wall on my side.”
Chen Mo’s voice came from not far away.
Wen Ya’s voice came from another direction: “Same here.”
It took a short time for everyone to realize they were trapped in a narrow space of at most five square meters, surrounded by walls on all four sides, no doors or windows, all dead ends.
“Damn, that guy played us!”
Although darkness hindered vision, it couldn’t block Chen Cheng’s exasperated voice.
“I knew that Tarot Master was pure evil!”
Ever since the start of the Top Ten Competition, he had issues with Su Cheng—Chen Cheng clearly held a grudge over Su Cheng voluntarily giving up his qualification and withdrawing from the competition.
“After all, he got the pass a day ahead of us and entered this floor directly,” Chen Mo’s calm voice sounded. “In such a long time, a Prophet can do more than anyone else.”
“Yes,” An Xin affirmed. “Didn’t he just say there are only twenty-some minutes left until he officially becomes Captain? …If he wasn’t boasting, then he probably has obtained most of the Captain’s authority by now. Otherwise, he shouldn’t have been able to trap us here instantly.”
Amidst the discussion, Wen Ya turned her head, looking towards Wen Jianyan in the dark, and suddenly threw out a sharp question:
“President regarding what Su Cheng just said… what do you think?”
As soon as this was said, everyone in the darkness fell silent.
Just now, they had heard the entire conversation between Su Cheng and Wen Jianyan.
The information density was too high. Even though they didn’t understand a large part of it, based on what they could understand, they could still barely piece together parts of the truth.
At least…
For old members of the same guild, this was the first time since Su Cheng voluntarily left the guild so long ago that they learned from his own mouth the true motives behind his many abnormal actions.
Ma Qi hesitantly interjected: “Although I don’t understand much, I feel… at least the former Vice Guild Leader’s intentions are good?”
“Yeah, I knew that long ago.”
Wen Jianyan spoke up.
His voice was calm, with almost no fluctuation, like a sharp knife tearing through the deadly darkness.
Hearing this, everyone was surprised.
What?
…Knew long ago?
Wen Jianyan continued:
“Leaving the guild to join Oracle, participating in the Top Ten Competition as Oracle’s representative, the formation of the Lucky Cruise Ship, pushing you to actively participate in the Negative 4th Floor racecourse, and even the fight for passes on the Negative 5th Floor… his trajectory of action has always been clear.”
As long as all distractions were removed, all emotions cast aside, and the events combed through from start to finish, one would immediately discover…
Su Cheng’s motivation had always been consistent.
So, in fact, Wen Jianyan never considered Su Cheng changing guilds as a so-called “betrayal” from the beginning.
He knew Su Cheng had a plan, just didn’t know what exactly he was seeking, or why he had to do so.
And now, the answer was finally revealed.
“You ask what I think,” Wen Jianyan turned his head, “looking” at Wen Ya in the darkness. “But actually, you want to ask if we can trust Su Cheng this time… just as he begged, right?”
Wen Ya: “…Yeah.”
None of them were easily influenced by others’ words, but the conditions Su Cheng offered were simply too moving…
If, just if, what Su Cheng said was true.
If he became Captain, could he really end all this, end the Nightmare, and return everything to the right track—
It was hard not to be moved.
Moreover, when saying those words, Su Cheng’s expression was just too earnest, too sincere.
Like ripping open his chest to show his heart.
Even the hardest-hearted person would struggle not to be moved.
Wen Jianyan smiled soundlessly:
“Then I can give you an answer right now.”
Even before understanding the other’s intentions, Wen Jianyan never questioned Su Cheng’s nature.
Precisely because of this, the reveal of the answer didn’t affect his judgment.
—”I don’t believe it.”
His voice carried an almost ruthless rationality.
