Chapter 697: Fierce battle
“…A train?”
Figaro stared at Wen Jianyan, repeating the words in a perplexed tone. He frowned, carefully looking the other up and down, as if trying to confirm whether his brain had broken due to overstimulation.
Wen Jianyan ignored him. Instead, he turned his head to look backward, seemingly searching for something.
A few steps away, Wu Zhu, who was still examining the blood on his fingertip, looked up as if they shared a telepathic connection. He retracted his fingers and strode straight forward:
“What is it?”
Although the train didn’t belong here to begin with and wouldn’t be altered by the instance’s reorganization, that didn’t mean finding it would be easy—Nightmare would try every possible method to hide it and absolutely wouldn’t let them easily find its location.
Unless… he had some other method to locate it.
Wen Jianyan casually tugged at Wu Zhu’s cuff, which had become messy from his earlier movements:
“Go, see if there’s the scent of my blood anywhere in this instance.”
That’s right.
During the process of the train crashing into the deck, Wen Jianyan had suffered quite a serious injury inside. While crawling out, the glass shards had further sliced his arm, drawing dripping fresh blood. Even if Nightmare could change the train’s location or hide its existence, as long as it couldn’t truly affect its interior, it couldn’t penetrate the train car to erase the traces Wen Jianyan had left behind.
“What, do you still need a sample?”
Wen Jianyan raised an eyebrow and shot him a sideways glance.
“…” The beast-like eyes briefly contracted.
Wu Zhu’s Adam’s apple bobbed once. He stared at the young man’s throat, his voice deep as he spoke slowly:
“No need.”
No one was more familiar with the scent of Wen Jianyan’s fresh blood than he was.
He had sucked, tasted, and drank it from the other’s neck, fingertips, lips, and the tip of his tongue…
That boiling hot, viscous smell of blood that seemed to forever emit the mellow fragrance of summer.
It had long since been branded into his throat, becoming a part of his soul and memory.
“I guessed as much.” Wen Jianyan chuckled, withdrawing his gaze and shrugging very relaxedly. “Then lead the way.”
[…Is it just my problem, or why does it look like the atmosphere is not quite normal even though it’s just a normal conversation!]
[Yeah, I don’t think it’s your problem.]
[But am I the only one curious about what exactly the ‘train’ he just mentioned is?]
[Right, right, right, I want to ask that too…]
[Could it be a code name for something? —Or some kind of item?]
[I also think it might be, because after all, how could there be a train inside a cruise ship?]
While the live broadcast room was buzzing with discussions about this topic, even starting to make wild, unfounded guesses, the group on the screen hadn’t stopped their steps. Following behind Wu Zhu, they rushed toward the end of the corridor at their fastest possible speed, as if terrified of wasting even a single second.
After traveling for an unknown amount of time, suddenly, Wu Zhu stopped in his tracks without warning.
He raised his eyes, scrutinizing the solid wall in front of him with an evaluating gaze, and then said: “It’s right inside.”
“Ah? Inside?”
“What does that mean, I don’t think I understand…”
“Okay, I got it.”
Hearing this somewhat bizarre answer, Wen Jianyan merely nodded very normally, without even half a word of questioning, and turned his head to say: “No matter what methods you use, smash it open for me.”
While the viewers were still fraught with doubts, the others on the screen also began to act without hesitation.
However, the wall in front of them seemed completely indestructible.
No matter how swift their wall-smashing speed was, or how extreme their methods, for every piece of plaster pulled off or brick removed, the wall would automatically replenish the lost part the next second. It was an endless, continuous cycle, making it seem like they could never break through its barrier.
Watching the rapidly healing cracks on the wall, Wu Zhu furrowed his brow, a trace of hostility flashing in his eyes.
“Move away.”
He stepped forward, pressing his palm against the wall surface. The next second, golden blood condensed into a line, surging into it as if possessing consciousness. Fine, pale golden veins spread out, embedding deeply into the cracks. Just like when he stopped the cruise ship from collapsing back then, this time, he used the same method to forcefully curb the wall’s regeneration.
Wen Jianyan was startled at first, then immediately reacted.
He turned his head and shouted sternly: “Hurry, make use of the time!!”
Just like that, using the fissure that could no longer recover on its own as a breakthrough point, the group used every method they could utilize and command to smash and tear down the wall in front of them. The cracks on the wall expanded at a speed visible to the naked eye. In just the blink of an eye, a hole tall enough for a person to pass through appeared on the wall that had just been indestructible and seemingly impossible to ever be destroyed.
Suddenly, a loud metallic “clang” came from the deepest part.
Chen Mo froze, turned his head, and said loudly: “—I think I dug into something!”
Through the irregular deep hole in front of him, a train trapped within was starkly visible. Like an imprisoned giant steel beast, it lay quietly deep within the wall, as if it had long since merged into one with the cruise ship.
Staring at this abrupt existence, all the viewers were collectively at a loss for words, the barrage uncharacteristically falling into a brief blankness.
They hadn’t expected that what Wen Jianyan said was actually true…
There actually was a train aboard the cruise ship!!
The train was deeply embedded into the ship’s hull, its body tilted, its exterior covered in scratches and full of devastation, having long been battered beyond recognition during the process of smashing into the cruise ship.
“Let’s go, get in one by one.” Wen Jianyan turned around, guiding the others to enter the train car through the broken windows, warning them in passing, “Be careful, the floor inside is tilted, and the seats are a total mess. Don’t slide down!”
Watching the others file in through the window one after another, Figaro put on a fake smile and subtly took a step back:
“Since you’ve already found what you were looking for, then I’ll just—”
Before he even had time to take a second step back, he felt his foot bump into something.
Figaro’s smile stiffened.
Black shadows condensed into a solid wall, firmly blocking his path.
Not far ahead, the tall anomaly stood motionless. Those golden eyes, which seemed devoid of any human emotion, stared at him unblinkingly, bringing a terrifying deterrence that made one’s heart palpitate.
Figaro: “…”
He let out a dry laugh and changed his tune: “But thinking it over, I am indeed very worried about Mr. Chen Cheng and the others’ safety, so I’d better travel with you guys…”
After speaking, he quickened his pace toward the train as if fleeing, then bent over and scrambled into the train car.
Wen Jianyan was right behind him, stepping one leg through the window.
Wu Zhu followed closely. He raised his eyes to look at Wen Jianyan, his eyes shining—How is it, I did well, right?
Wen Jianyan paused his movements. He turned around, supported Wu Zhu’s chin, and planted a quick kiss on his lips.
“Mm, good job.”
“Once I’m inside the train car, you won’t need to maintain the wall’s opening anymore. Just follow me in.”
He pressed close to Wu Zhu’s lips and whispered,
“I’ll settle the score with you later about shedding your blood.”
After speaking, Wen Jianyan pulled away without the slightest reluctance, turned around, and slipped through the window.
Just as he had warned from the start, the entire interior of the train car was a complete mess. It plunged deeply downward at a massive tilt angle exceeding forty-five degrees. Just a moment of carelessness could send one sliding all the way down, disappearing into a bottomless abyss.
Everyone inside had to tightly grip the walls to maintain their balance.
Once Wen Jianyan stood firm inside the train, a “rumbling” sound immediately came from behind him, like a roar from inside a rock. Accompanied by a final heavy groan, the last trace of light disappeared from behind him—having lost the maintenance of Wu Zhu’s blood, the wall began to restore to its original state at top speed, completely shutting the light of the fake instance outside the train.
It was dead silent all around, as if they had entered an anomalous space isolated from everything else.
“How fascinating…” Figaro looked up, marveling, “As soon as I entered here, my live broadcast signal disappeared… Is this the effect of this train?”
While bracing himself against the wall to maintain a standing posture, he observed his surroundings with great interest. “I’ve never heard of a similar existence before, and all the styles here clash completely with the outside. It doesn’t look like it existed originally—did it invade from the outside? How was that done?”
While he was looking around, Wen Jianyan had already bypassed him, looking toward the others:
“Walk deeper in, but be careful, absolutely do not slide down.”
When the train was running, its interior was connected in a loop, without a front or back end. Wen Jianyan wasn’t sure if this rule still held true after it stopped running, but regardless, being careful was never a bad thing.
The moment Wen Jianyan stepped onto the train, Qi Qian, who was on another floor of the cruise ship, paused his steps, as if sensing something.
He looked up.
Inside the fake cruise ship piled up with corridors and cabins, the lights overhead flickered intermittently, seeming to be subjected to some degree of interference. From deep beneath the floor under his feet, an imperceptible tremor seemed to transmit—although everything around seemed to be no different from five minutes ago, his honed, sharp intuition told him…
Something had changed.
“What’s going on?” An Xin frowned tightly, looking around. “What happened?”
“…”
Qi Qian didn’t answer, his eyes flashing with vigilance.
The next second, their phones simultaneously started vibrating without warning. The violent “buzzing” sound echoed in the dead silent corridor, appearing exceptionally ear-piercing.
The two exchanged a startled look.
Their phones had been put on Do Not Disturb mode after entering the instance. Aside from teammates in the same squad, messages from anyone else would be blocked altogether. However, the Dark Fire squad was now completely wiped out. Who exactly would have the authority to call them, and simultaneously at that?
A certain ominous premonition fermented in the bottom of his heart.
Qi Qian pulled the phone from his pocket, answered it, and brought it to his ear.
“…Yes.”
“Yes.”
The dim, intermittent light spilled down, falling on his deeply etched brow ridge, making his expression look even more unfathomable, his eyes grim and ruthless.
“I understand.”
“President.”
The group traveled downward along the heavily tilted train. As they moved forward, Wen Jianyan confirmed the serial numbers of the cars.
They had entered the train’s interior through the window of car number six. Further ahead were the fifth car, the fourth car—
Although the entire surface layer of the cruise ship had been reorganized, the train itself couldn’t be affected or invaded by Nightmare. Therefore, all the “impacts” related to it naturally couldn’t be erased either. Thus, the fact that [the train crashed into the deck, shattering the rule barrier between above and below the deck, and connecting the two] would also indisputably exist.
In other words, as long as they went as deep down into the train cars as possible, they could enter below the deck, the area deliberately hidden by Nightmare.
The group continued downward.
Suddenly, Chen Mo’s footsteps halted.
“What is it?”
Ji Guan, who was walking beside him, turned his head in confusion and asked.
Chen Mo supported himself against the wall with one hand. He lowered his head, and a paper bird rested in his palm.
He brought the paper bird to his ear, his expression gradually growing solemn.
Not far away, the others also noticed the abnormality over here.
“…Did Qi Qian say something?” Wen Jianyan stopped, frowned, and asked.
Because they were being targeted by Nightmare, all their communication methods had become useless. So, before parting ways with Dark Fire, Qi Qian had left them a paper bird to serve as a final means of contact in critical moments.
It’s just that… none of them expected it to be used so quickly.
“Yes.” Chen Mo raised his eyes, his brows full of gravity. He took a deep breath and slowly spat out a few words, “Dark Fire’s President, Ye Lin, has entered the instance.”
“What?!” Hearing this, the crowd was startled.
Blond said in astonishment: “B-but, hasn’t this instance been open for a long time? Why can someone still enter midway—”
“The higher you climb in Nightmare, the more privileges you have,” Figaro, beside them, spoke up. A smile lingered on the corners of his mouth as he stood leisurely to the side, looking as if everything happening around him had nothing to do with him. “With Ye Lin’s current position, a small matter like entering an already open instance midway isn’t too difficult to achieve.”
Seemingly aware that everyone’s eyes were focused on him, Figaro shrugged and added:
“I know what you want to ask, but unfortunately, I also know very little about Ye Lin’s talents and abilities. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help to you. He lives in deep seclusion and is very low-key. Aside from those amorous scandals with Madam Dan Zhu, there’s nothing else worth mentioning—”
Wen Jianyan’s brow twitched, and he turned to look at him: “You know about him and Dan Zhu?”
“You should be asking who doesn’t know.”
Figaro winked teasingly and spoke in a gorgeous tone like performing a play,
“‘The President of the Dark Fire Guild is infatuated with the top of Nightmare’s beauty rankings, henceforth becoming a slave to love, a running dog under her skirt—'”
Wen Jianyan frowned and interrupted the other’s overly exaggerated narration: “Enough.”
He looked at Figaro, his focused, seemingly penetrating gaze fixing on him, and said:
“You know that’s not what I want to hear.”
He had naturally heard such rumors before—the undisguised, intense infatuation the President of Dark Fire had for the President of Eternal Day, and his persistent pursuit no matter how terrible the other’s attitude was. This wasn’t a secret, and it had made the tales of Dan Zhu’s demonic beauty and terrifying charm spread even wider.
However, Wen Jianyan always felt… the situation seemed to be more than just that.
In fact, a long time ago, when he officially became a member of the Secret Council, he had already felt a similar sense of incongruity—whether it was Dan Zhu or Ye Lin, their attitudes toward each other carried a few hints of meanings that couldn’t be explained to outsiders. And inside the cruise ship, after truly witnessing Dan Zhu and Ye Lin’s interactions, this sense of incongruity grew even stronger.
It seemed there was far more between them than just a simple pursuer and pursued relationship.
“It seems you are a very picky spectator, not even satisfied with gossip of this level,” the smile on Figaro’s lips deepened. “Very well then, I’ll talk a little more about the situations I’ve heard of…”
He blinked, speaking in a deliberately mystifying manner:
“Rumor has it, a long time ago, they used to truly be a couple.”
“What?” As soon as these words came out, everyone couldn’t help but be startled, completely not expecting the two to have had such a past.
“Of course, that was a matter from back when the Dark Fire Guild was just established and hadn’t yet become Nightmare’s number two,” Figaro shrugged. “Since then, the anchors in Nightmare have had at least four or five major turnovers in blood, leaving basically no insiders left.”
“B-but,” Blond hesitated, lowering his voice, “Isn’t President Ye Lin a bit—” Compared to the demonically beautiful Dan Zhu, Ye Lin’s appearance was very hard to match with hers. His abnormal height and brawn made him look like a highly oppressive wall. That numb, cold face, and those ashen, un-lifelike eyes, from whichever angle you looked, made him and Dan Zhu seem far from a good match.
Furthermore, Dan Zhu herself was a famous appearance-supremacist. She had always been much more tolerant of good-looking people, even lending a helping hand for no reason, whereas people who weren’t good-looking enough wouldn’t even have the chance to speak with her. Because of this, those who could enter Eternal Day were quite good-looking, and their proportion of beauty anchors was the highest among all guilds. Many anchors jokingly referred to it as “selecting people based on their faces.”
“Ah,” Figaro laughed. “You don’t think Ye Lin looked like that from the very beginning, do you?”
He tapped his lower eyelid and said, “Just like your eyes, were they red from the start?”
As soon as these words came out, it went quiet all around.
Indeed, such an abnormal appearance didn’t look like a person’s original look, but rather like the price paid for being eroded by Nightmare and overusing talents.
Seemingly very satisfied with the impact of his words, Figaro withdrew his gaze and continued:
“At least as far as I know, the two of them were indeed truly a golden couple.”
The founder of the Dark Fire Guild, a rising, powerful, reliable, and handsome leader, and a radiant, beautiful powerhouse as kind and warm as the sun. They fought together, became each other’s most solid backing, entrusted their backs to each other without reservation, and finally fell in love.
Their names stood side-by-side high up on the leaderboards, known to all.
Listening to Figaro’s description, the crowd exchanged glances, unanimously feeling a bizarre sense of absurdity.
Handsome and reliable? Warm and kind?
No matter what angle you looked from, these adjectives seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with the currently gloomy and demonic Dan Zhu, and the terrifying and ugly Ye Lin.
“Then… why did it turn into what it is now?” Ji Guan frowned and pressed for an answer.
“It’s a pity,” Figaro bowed somewhat apologetically, “I’m not very clear about this question either—”
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes: “You say you know absolutely nothing? I find that quite hard to believe.”
“Don’t try to hide anything. Tell me everything you know, whether it’s direct or indirect, fact or rumor, say it all.”
“Ah…” Figaro was in a bit of a spot, but still sighed. “Alright, alright…”
It really was hard to hide any information from this guy…
“I only know that the changes probably occurred within three or four weeks.”
It was just that, within three or four weeks in the anchor hall, who knows how many instances they had gone through in between.
“Starting from a certain day, Dan Zhu’s name turned gray and directly disappeared from the leaderboards. Following that, the Dark Fire Guild’s ranking on the leaderboards started to skyrocket all the way up. About four weeks later, Dan Zhu’s name appeared on the leaderboards again.”
Figaro narrowed his eyes.
“Immediately after, Dan Zhu left taking half of Dark Fire’s personnel with her, and founded Eternal Day. From then on, the guild was split, and the kings refused to see each other.”
Eternal Day, Dark Fire.
One light, one dark, originally born from the same source.
“However, what I’m saying now is nothing more than some side guesses…” Figaro shrugged. “You have to understand, at that time I was just a newbie who had just entered Nightmare, and it was very difficult to figure out what exactly had happened to these high-level anchors. And by the time I started finding my own career, that batch of insiders from back then was pretty much all dead. I’m afraid other than those two, no one else knows the answer to this question.”
The train car plunged into dead silence.
Shadows flickered, like the shadows gradually growing in everyone’s hearts.
“…” Wen Jianyan gave Figaro a deep look. “Okay, I understand.”
He withdrew his gaze and looked at the others:
“Let’s go, we’ve stayed long enough, it’s time to keep moving forward.”
Chen Cheng, Orange Candy, and Wen Ya hadn’t regrouped with them yet. Their locations were unknown, their status unclear. There wasn’t much time to waste now.
After walking downward for several more minutes, car number one finally arrived.
Through the dusty windows covered in spiderweb-like cracks, faint light outside could be dimly seen.
Unlike when they entered, this time, there was no wall outside.
After breaking the already crumbling train window, Chen Mo slipped out first, then turned around to pull Blond’s arm. Ji Guan stayed behind, supporting Blond’s back to push him up.
Blond was yanked out of the narrow window, swaying as he found his footing.
A damp, foul stench floated in the air.
Everything was so familiar, as if it instantly brought them back to that night sprinting through the collapsing cruise ship. In the cold, wet seawater floated the unresigned corpses of the anchors, while outside was the pitch-black, enraged ocean and pouring, freezing heavy rain.
Behind him, Figaro also climbed out of the window.
He looked down and vigorously patted the dust off his body, trying to keep his overly fastidious clothes in good condition.
After doing all this, he turned his head and looked toward the train window behind him:
“Mr. Pinocchio, do you need me to give you a hand?”
Wen Jianyan, whose name was called, snapped back to reality. He withdrew his gaze:
“…No need.”
He then looked to the side and stretched out his hand: “Here.”
Wu Zhu, who had appeared outside the train at some unknown point, leaned down. With one hand, he grabbed Wen Jianyan’s arm, while black shadows simultaneously supported the young man’s back. With just a pull upward, he lightly and flawlessly brought him onto the ground.
Figaro looked at his own hand lingering in midair: “…”
He shouldn’t have asked.
Now, everyone was out of the train and officially standing inside the true cruise ship.
Having left the protection of the train body, the live broadcast also began to recover.
“What just happened? Why was the signal suddenly interfered with?”
“I don’t know… but it seems fine now.”
“Oh, oh, oh! The picture is up!”
Accompanied by the disappearance of the static symbolizing signal loss, the long-lost image finally appeared on the screen once again. Looking at the unfamiliar yet familiar scene, the viewers couldn’t help but be astonished.
“…Wait a minute, this is the Lucky Cruise Ship?”
“Uh, did it look this… bizarre before?”
Under the dim lighting, human bodies were twisted into tables and chairs. Pale limbs were lifelessly entangled together, jointly creating a picture straight out of hell.
Having lost the previous reinforcement methods, the ground and walls were covered with dense, fine cracks, making the entire space look extremely fragile and seemingly on the verge of collapse.
Suddenly, Wu Zhu raised his eyes, his golden eyes fixing steadily on the air:
“The scent of fresh blood from those two people…”
“Has appeared again.”
“Behind you!!!”
The woman’s voice was hoarse. Due to long-term overuse, it was almost hard to distinguish her original voice.
The moment her voice fell, accompanied by a sharp screech piercing the air, a rust-mottled blade slashed backward at a tricky angle—the next second, half of a pale, cold arm was cleanly sliced off at the root. It spun as it flew backward, smashing onto the ground with a “splat.”
The cross-section was neat, clearly showing that what was wrapped within that dead-man-like pale skin wasn’t bone and flesh, but bizarrely squirming flower branches.
Amber liquid flowed down from the severed surface, emitting a rotting floral scent.
The lighting was dim, the floor tilted.
Inside the corpse-strewn casino, two figures—one tall, one short, one big, one small—were completely surrounded, with nowhere to go and no path to escape.
Wen Ya pressed her throat, her eyes sharp, panting rapidly.
Fabric covered her and Orange Candy beside her, firmly protecting every inch of their skin, mouths, and noses. Under the light, it presented a bizarre color and texture—her talent could alter the surface properties of objects. Used on the ground or walls, it could turn them into swamps; used on fabric, it could become a protective film not easily penetrated.
In such group battles, her talent could completely be used as a large-scale control type, very easily controlling the pace of the battle.
But unfortunately… their enemy was Dan Zhu.
If they allowed even a single grain of pollen in the air to invade their bodies, their efforts would be in vain, and they would die tragically on the spot.
Therefore, Wen Ya could only give up using her talent to the maximum extent. Instead, she let Orange Candy be solely responsible for offense and defense, while putting all her energy into maintaining the lives of the two of them.
“Hehe…”
One of the heads that had rolled onto the ground giggled merrily, a beautiful laugh coming from its lips.
“Wen Ya, right? What a useful ability. If you stayed in Eternal Day, you are completely capable of holding the position of my Vice President. What a pity—”
“Shut the fuck up!!!” Orange Candy held her blade and stood in front of Wen Ya. The rust-mottled machete’s edge had already curled. Fresh blood dripped steadily from the tip of the blade, pooling into a small puddle of blood on the floor. She looked up, staring dead into midair, her eyes like cold blades unsheathed upon seeing blood. “Dan Zhu, you fucking cowardly turtle… if you have the guts, come out and fight me one-on-one!!!”
“Oh, darling… don’t think it’s because I don’t want to come out.”
The pale corpse on the left opened its mouth, issuing a voice that didn’t belong to it.
And the next second, the voice fluidly came from the right.
“If it weren’t for circumstances beyond my control, I would very much like to meet you…” Her ending note rose slightly, seemingly carrying a demonic, charming smile that only made one feel a growing chill and a cold back. “But for now, I’ll just have to wrong you to play with these little guys.”
Wen Ya panted heavily, looking forward.
Orange Candy had her back to her. Her small body looked exceptionally thin and frail, holding a machete as tall as a person—blood, thin as red snakes, flowed down from the fingers tightly gripping the hilt, winding down along the rust-mottled, blood-red blade.
Corpses had no blood.
What filled their skins were plant stems flowing with amber, thick fragrance. Almost all the blood on the blade came from the wielder’s body.
From the very beginning of entering the instance, the battles they encountered had never stopped. Each one was more urgent than the last, each wave longer than the previous, and the enemies more powerful one after another.
After undergoing such a high-intensity, back-to-back relay battle with almost zero resting time.
…Orange Candy was nearing the end of her rope.
Yet she was still smiling, without a trace of fear on her face: “Dan Zhu, you better really be able to kill me this time.”
The little girl’s mouth hung with a huge smile. Deep in her eyes was a maddening, heart-palpitating bloody color: “Otherwise, when I truly see you, I will definitely peel off that beautiful skin of yours and use it as a cloth to wipe my blade.”
“Haha…” Amused, charming laughter rang out from all directions. “Alright, I’ll be waiting for you.”
The instant Dan Zhu’s voice fell, the pollen-driven corpses all around began to move once again.
And this time, it was obvious she was playing for real.
The air was filled with a suffocating, rotting floral scent, like a tide submerging the entire world.
The horde of corpses lunged forward with unprecedented madness. Every pale face bore a malicious smile. Their dim, lightless pupils stared intently at the prey they had surrounded. The ghastly ghost aura squirmed, the dangerous breath almost materializing.
The curled blade licked the neck of a corpse.
But this time, it didn’t slice through the bone like tofu as usual. Instead, it got deeply stuck in it at a bizarre angle.
The face close at hand turned around, revealing a weird smile towards Orange Candy.
“—!!!”
A strong sense of crisis struck, and Orange Candy’s pupils contracted instantly.
Not good!!!
The moment the blade in her hand was restrained, from the corner of her eye, she caught an abnormal movement beside her.
The corpse on the left threw its head back, opening its mouth in a state nearing jaw dislocation, issuing tooth-aching “crack-crack” sounds of bone splitting. The next second, a thick, blood-red thorn burst fiercely from its throat, and then at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye, struck in this direction, so fast it almost left afterimages in the air!
Crap—
Orange Candy gritted her teeth, practically tasting fresh blood in her mouth.
She had barely turned her head, and the flower stem had already struck her face. There was no more chance to escape!
The next second, a dark figure blocked in front of her.
“……………………” Orange Candy’s pupils instantly contracted. She threw her head back, looking at Wen Ya in front of her, all expressions freezing on her face.
Wen Ya had blocked this strike for her.
She looked down at the bloodstain spreading on her chest. After a brief daze, a trace of almost gentle regret brushed across her face.
She had originally wanted to go see Lily’s hometown after leaving here.
What a pity…
She had no way to fulfill the promise anymore.
“I…”
“Shut, up!!”
The bloody color expanded deep within Orange Candy’s pupils. The next second, her talent activated, time reversed!!!
Time rewound to ten seconds ago.
“Arghhhh—”
Orange Candy gritted her teeth, an almost tyrannical roar erupting from her throat. She gripped the hilt dead tight. The webbing between her thumb and forefinger split open, bursting with fresh blood, yet she forcefully yanked the blade out from the corpse’s neck just like that. Half of the head was flipped away by the violent force, the sharp skull deeply embedding into the wall.
Before the corpse on the left could even throw its head back, it had already been forcefully torn into two halves by the blunt blade.
“Reversing time… what a terrifying talent.”
The half-head lying on the ground shifted its gaze. Its eyeball stared at Orange Candy not far away, its remaining half of the lips curving into a sinister arc.
“I’ve only heard of it, haven’t really seen it before.”
“However, how many more times can you do this?”
Compared to twenty seconds ago, Orange Candy had become even younger.
She previously looked about nine years old.
Now, she was at most seven years old.
The machete that was originally her height was now half a head taller than her.
“Five times?” “Three times?” “Two times?”
The corpse opened its mouth, letting out a pleasant chuckle: “It’s okay… we’ll know very soon.”
Yes, that was right.
Even if Orange Candy’s talent was formidable and could reverse time—so what?
Here, the corpses were endless. As long as they dragged it out long enough, waited long enough, they would eventually make a mistake, eventually get injured, eventually burn out their fuel.
Even if Dan Zhu didn’t appear, they could still be worn to death alive right here.
Looking at Orange Candy, who was several inches shorter than just now, her clothes hanging loosely on her shoulders, Wen Ya’s pupils contracted: “You—”
“Shut up!” Orange Candy gripped the blade, gritting her teeth. “If you dare say any more last words, I’ll kill you first!”
She stumbled slightly and raised her hand to wipe the blood off her chin:
“But we can’t keep wearing ourselves out here. We have to find a way—”
Suddenly, a voice came from behind, taking over the conversation:
“—To leave here?”
What?
The two were jolted and whipped their heads around toward the direction of the voice.
On the previously empty, flawlessly intact wall, a passage wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side had opened at some unknown time.
The baby-faced dealer in a uniform stood in the back, the name tag for “no. 8” hanging crookedly on his chest. He looked around nervously, appearing like a startled bird, reaching out a hand to press against the wall to prevent it from closing again.
And standing beside him was an exceptionally familiar figure—
Shoulder-length hair tied up at the back of his head, a gentle, scholarly face.
The Tarot Reader, who had long since disappeared, stood deep within the passage, staring at them with those bottomless black eyes. It seemed everything was just like before, nothing had ever changed.
He smiled and said:
“Well then, it looks like I’ve arrived just in time.”
