Chapter 23: The Little Megaphone
East Cross Street in Zone F of Evernight City had suddenly been plunged into jittery tension and paranoia.
Thirteen people had vanished from their rooms, leaving behind only pools of blood—some of which had long since dried up. Who the murderer was, nobody knew.
It wasn’t until Tang Cuo walked out of East Cross Street that he realized the atmosphere beyond it wasn’t right either. Furthermore, the number of players lingering around the street’s exits had noticeably grown.
The moment Tang Cuo stepped out, he felt multiple gazes fixated on him. Having received professional counter-surveillance training, he was exceptionally sensitive to this.
He walked a few more steps nonchalantly before immediately turning back.
Jin Cheng had once again commandeered Tang Cuo’s room and was currently perusing the intelligence delivered to him by the Ruby Tavern. Seeing Tang Cuo return, he looked up with the leisurely air of a homeowner. “You’re back?”
Tang Cuo: “Are there no chairs next door?”
Jin Cheng: “You guessed right.”
Tang Cuo: “…”
Only then did Jin Cheng explain, “Little Brother Chi has turned that place into his headquarters. The death toll has reached fourteen now; he’ll probably come crying to you in a bit.”
Tang Cuo poured himself a glass of water. “Aren’t you investigating?”
“You mean this?” Jin Cheng waved the papers in his hand. “This isn’t files on the murder case, but Chi Yan’s. Want to take a look?”
Tang Cuo was slightly surprised that Jin Cheng had pulled Chi Yan’s background so quickly. But on second thought—this was Jin Cheng, his former instructor; it was hardly surprising he could pull off something like this.
Chi Yan’s file was just a thin single sheet recording his general trajectory from Zone E to Zone F, largely matching what he had shared himself. The remaining sheets, however, documented known instance details across Zone F; some were written out extensively, while others had only a few brief lines.
Jin Cheng said, “Evernight City’s instances come in all shapes and sizes. What’s recorded here is really just a tiny fraction. Given our luck, we probably won’t run into common instances, but it never hurts to be prepared. Take a look first and get familiar with the basic patterns.”
To put it plainly, these materials were walkthroughs for various instances. Even if some were vague, they at least provided a reference. Tang Cuo wasn’t particularly thrilled, however, because as Returner on a Snowy Night had demonstrated, the chances of randomly landing an instance you happened to know the walkthrough for were slim to none.
Moreover, these guides definitely weren’t cheap; ordinary players likely couldn’t afford them at all.
He skimmed through them. Flipping to the last page, he caught sight of a familiar name: “An Ning?”
Jin Cheng remarked, “A young girl braving instances all by herself—bold, meticulous, with decent-looking gear. Aren’t you curious?”
I think you’re just bored.
Tang Cuo wasn’t terribly curious about An Ning, Qian Wei, Peng Mingfan, or anyone else. As long as they didn’t get in his way, he couldn’t care less who they were.
Still, the information written on the sheet was somewhat intriguing.
“Ge!” Right then, Chi Yan barged in again. Shutting the door behind him, he cried for help to Tang Cuo as predicted, “It’s so creepy! Another person was just discovered missing! Over a dozen dead and we haven’t even caught a glimpse of the killer!”
To his surprise, Tang Cuo threw a bucket of cold water over him: “I’m afraid it’s more than a dozen. Things outside aren’t right either.”
“How so?” Jin Cheng asked.
“Judging by how dry the bloodstains were, this kind of thing has been going on for several days,” Tang Cuo explained. “The reason it was only discovered today is that new and veteran players were constantly brawling over the past few days, drawing all the attention. Besides, I imagine murder for revenge, robbery, and looting are everyday occurrences in Evernight City—it wouldn’t be surprising even if it happened daily, unless there’s a concentrated outbreak like today.”
Chi Yan pondered, “Could someone be fishing in troubled waters? Taking advantage of our distraction to kill people and plunder points? Can points be directly stolen?”
Jin Cheng: “Of course. You’d better warn them all to watch their backs. If it’s indiscriminate killing and things are stirring outside, you can restrain your people from causing trouble for others, but that doesn’t mean others won’t come looking for trouble with you. Furthermore, for the killer to succeed so many times without alerting anyone proves their combat prowess is formidable.”
Chi Yan sucked in a breath of cold air, feeling a throbbing headache. After he rushed back out like a whirlwind, Tang Cuo narrowed his eyes at Jin Cheng. “Why do I feel like you know something?”
Jin Cheng spread his hands. “I know plenty. Which one do you want to ask about?”
With that, Jin Cheng stood up and walked over to the window. Evernight City looked unusually quiet today, which reminded him of many things. “Evernight City is a lawless place. Do you know what the hardest thing here is?”
Tang Cuo was uncharacteristically cooperative: “What?”
Jin Cheng: “Establishing a new order here.”
At that moment, Tang Cuo seemed to catch a glimpse of the former Lieutenant Colonel Jin. Even without his military uniform, his back had always stood ramrod straight. Yet in the very next second, he leaned against the window frame with his usual slouch. “Speaking of prison, something just came to mind. Six months ago, the six major zones jointly issued a wanted notice—a city-wide purge that sent around a hundred people inside. Doing the math, someone should be getting released right about now. His blade technique and operating style match our prime suspect.”
Tang Cuo: “A prison sentence lasts six months?”
“Of course not,” Jin Cheng smiled. “When he got released, I killed him and sent him right back in.”
Fine then.
Tang Cuo suddenly felt he ought to write a big poster and hang it on the outer wall, announcing that Jin Cheng lived here—loaded with points, swimming in enemies—so everyone could just focus all their killing intent on him alone, saving innocent bystanders the trouble.
Right at that moment, a sudden commotion erupted down on the black stone street.
Jin Cheng and Chi Yan next door poked their heads out almost simultaneously. At the far end of the street, people were trading blows; one of them wielded magic, creating a dazzling spectacle.
Boom! A cluster of magical energy detonated with a blast, like New Year’s fireworks, scattering onlookers like bursting firecrackers. One player crashed directly into a lamppost, bounced onto the pavement, twitched a few times, and dissolved into white light.
Chi Yan’s eyes went wide, and he turned to sprint downstairs.
Jin Cheng was even faster. Vaulting over the windowsill with one hand, he descended like a great roc, landing steadily right in the middle of the street. At the end of the street, the clash hadn’t ceased and showed signs of escalating. Surrounding players dodged and screamed, plunging the scene into complete chaos.
Yet before Jin Cheng could intervene, a gigantic red net plummeted from the sky, enveloping the fiercest fighters head-to-toe. With a swish, a pretty girl with short hair appeared atop the lamppost, gripping the cord tightly to cinch the net shut.
The netted players thrashed immediately. One burly man glared up at her, his eyes bloodshot with rage: “What the hell are you doing?!”
The girl’s face was frosty. “I was about to ask what you’re doing.”
The burly man gritted his teeth. “I’m avenging our boss! Why are you stopping me?! Are you with them?!”
“Bullshit!” Dropping down from the lamppost, the girl kicked him without hesitation. The kick landed on his rear—fierce in appearance, though it didn’t actually cause harm. Her gaze then swept across the crowd before locking onto Jin Cheng.
“I can explain,” she said.
“Explain what?” Jin Cheng crossed his arms and watched An Ning with a half-smile. The rookies who had been knocked down scrambled to their feet and hid behind Jin Cheng, glaring furiously at An Ning.
One of them panted, blurting out, “You suddenly charged over and started attacking us! We clearly didn’t provoke you, nor did we ever lay a finger on anyone outside! You’re taking things too far!”
“Who did we ever cross?!”
“Lunatics, you’re all fucking lunatics!”
“You might as well just chop me to death!”
New players fresh to Evernight City hadn’t undergone the baptism of game instances yet; they were on the brink of being driven insane by the relentless dangers. Who died or who got murdered—what did that have to do with them?!
Yet the big boss was just as unmerciful. Jin Cheng swept a cold glance over them. “Shut up.”
Taking a deep breath, An Ning adopted a serious tone: “Early this morning, our boss was ambushed. Cheng Ke of Zone F—perhaps you’ve heard of him.”
Tang Cuo walked over as well.
An Ning nodded at him and continued, “His death was very suspicious. There were barely any signs of a struggle in the room. In all of Zone F, very few could pull that off. And with rumors having just spread that two formidable figures appeared on East Cross Street, well… they acted rashly.”
Cheng Ke of Zone F was someone Tang Cuo had seen in An Ning’s dossier. He was probably one of the stronger players in Zone F, with a squad of his own, of which An Ning was a member.
Logically, their team was capable enough to have ranked up to Zone E long ago. However, Cheng Ke was excessively cautious and held back from advancing. On the other hand, he had subordinates under him—namely the blonde punk’s gang of scammers, who grew their own strength by fleecing rookies of points. That was an advantage unique to this zone.
Aside from that, Cheng Ke kept a relatively low profile.
“I’m very sorry,” An Ning finally sounded more like she did during the instance. “The moment I heard news about East Cross Street earlier, I guessed it might be you two. But by the time I learned they were coming over to cause trouble, it was already too late. Cheng-ge had decided last night to move up to Zone E and had no intention of clashing with you, but who knew…”
Jin Cheng cut her off. “Two choices: twenty points, or go to prison.”
An Ning’s expression shifted slightly, seemingly not expecting Jin Cheng to show zero leniency. The burly man struggled even more fiercely: “Don’t listen to him! Why should we hand over twenty points?! If you’ve got the guts, send me to prison—I can keep Boss company!”
“Why? Because those are my rules.” Jin Cheng wore a smile, but his voice was chillingly cold.
“Shut your mouth!” An Ning was infuriated. She didn’t believe for a second that Cheng Ke’s demise had anything to do with East Cross Street. With Jin Cheng’s status, why would he care about a mere Zone F player?
That so-called Knife Gang probably had little to do with them either. Besides, having shared an instance with them, An Ning genuinely felt that Jin Cheng and Tang Cuo weren’t the type to kill indiscriminately just to vent.
“I’ll pay,” An Ning made the final call, ignoring the shouts of the burly man and the others, firmly settling the dispute. Her attitude also brought considerable relief to the surrounding newcomers.
With a flick of her hand, a trade interface popped up in front of her, set to exactly twenty points. Jin Cheng didn’t accept it, however, glancing back toward Chi Yan. “You take it.”
Chi Yan: “Me?”
Jin Cheng: “Hold onto it for now. When that unlucky fellow who got killed just now gets out of prison, give it to him.”
At these words, Chi Yan didn’t think much of it, but veterans like An Ning and the burly man froze. They had all assumed Jin Cheng would pocket it himself; never had they imagined he would pass it along.
Were these his rules?
Perhaps because Jin Cheng’s “rule” was so unexpected, the burly man’s group stopped causing a scene. Forced to cool their heads, they stood silently with grim expressions.
Tang Cuo spoke up: “Take me to see the scene.”
An Ning wanted nothing more. “This whole thing is bizarre. Cheng-ge was sent to prison without rhyme or reason; we certainly can’t let it slide.”
When Chi Yan briefed her on the situation at East Cross Street, An Ning was surprised first, then puzzled. “Who would do such a thing? What’s the goal?”
Though speaking to Chi Yan, An Ning’s eyes drifted toward Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng, hoping they would deliver answers just as they had in the instance. But Jin Cheng stayed quiet, and Tang Cuo naturally had nothing to elaborate on yet.
Fifteen minutes later, the four, along with the burly man, arrived at Cheng Ke’s split-level apartment. The scene inside was plain to see: aside from a large pool of blood on the floor, there were very few signs of a struggle.
Yet few did not mean none.
Jin Cheng ran his hand over a blade mark on the corner of a table, closely inspecting its trajectory. Tracing along from the mark, he swept his eyes across the room and picked up a few other clues. With that, a definitive judgment formed in his mind. Grabbing paper and a pen, he scribbled down a few lines, then tossed an item toward Chi Yan.
Catching it, Chi Yan saw it was a small red megaphone. Glancing at the sheet of paper, he tilted his head in confusion: “Meng… Yufei? Who’s this now?”
“The suspect. Just read whatever is written on that paper over the zone-wide broadcast. If you can lure him out, the megaphone is yours.”
Chi Yan caught on instantly. “A zone-wide broadcast—isn’t that just like shouting in the world chat of an MMO? Can everyone really hear it?”
Jin Cheng egged him on, “Give it a shot.”
Chi Yan jumped right into action, feeling a slight buzz of excitement. Back in the day, he had been a legendary figure in online gaming; how could the world chat ever lack his heroic presence?
“Ahem.” Chi Yan cleared his throat, but upon clearly reading the words on the paper, he nearly choked on his own saliva. An Ning leaned in suspiciously to take a peek; what she saw stunned her just as much.
Tang Cuo didn’t know what they were reading, but he figured it wasn’t anything nice. Sure enough, Chi Yan’s subsequent broadcast confirmed his suspicion.
“We interrupt for a missing person notice.”
“We interrupt for a missing person notice.”
Under the zone-wide broadcast, Chi Yan’s voice amplified boundlessly through the megaphone, reverberating across every corner of Zone F.
“Meng Yufei, ID number H13131: you dropped your Survival Evaluation Report. Attention, you dropped your Survival Evaluation Report. Please report to Mr. Jin Cheng at East Cross Street immediately to claim it. To demonstrate our sincerity and credibility, we will announce one item from the report every five minutes. Mr. Meng Yufei, please listen closely and verify.”
“Item number one: Meng Yufei, you dumbass, you still wet the bed at age five—deduct 5 points. You wet the bed and blamed it on the dog—deduct 3 points.”
Tang Cuo: “…”
He couldn’t resist turning to look at Jin Cheng, his expression beyond description. Jin Cheng raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t slander him. He dropped his survival report last time, and I just happened to catch a glimpse. He didn’t wet the bed all the way to age five, but he definitely wet it.”
Who cares if he wet the bed or not. Tang Cuo felt he must be out of his mind to discuss this topic with him, while resolving firmly never to let Jin Cheng lay eyes on his own Survival Evaluation Report.
If Jin Cheng ever saw it, the front-page headline of Evernight City that day would be: A Tragic Bloodbath Sparked by an Evaluation Report.
“Mr. Meng Yufei, please report to East Cross Street upon hearing this broadcast. We will air the second item in five minutes sharp. Friendly reminder: your QQ Zone message board and Tieba forum accounts are both in our hands. Please govern yourself accordingly.”
After reading the first section, Chi Yan couldn’t help covering his face. For some reason, even though none of this was about him, reading it aloud brought an overwhelming sense of secondhand embarrassment, dredging up his own past embarrassments as though he too were tied to the pillar of shame.
Of course, Jin Cheng hadn’t actually written it in such detail, nor were the sentences so formal. It was Chi Yan—having spent so much time in gaming guilds and the student council giving speeches day in and day out—who naturally polished and embellished it.
He had even deliberately put on a professional news anchor tone.
The entirety of Zone F heard this crisp, articulate broadcast, learning of Meng Yufei’s heroic deed of wetting the bed at five and blaming it on a dog.
An uncanny wave of awkwardness swept through every street and alley of Zone F, punctuated here and there by bursts of “holy shit” and snorts of laughter. Everyone involuntarily paused what they were doing: drinkers set down their glasses, brawlers pulled their punches, and even those drifting off to sleep bolted upright like carp leaping out of water.
“Good lord, who is this guy? How humiliating!” While saying so, people pricked their ears up eagerly in anticipation of the next installment.
What exactly had Mr. Meng Yufei, the newly trending sensation of Zone F, left behind on his QQ Zone and Tieba accounts?
Five minutes later.
Chi Yan walked alongside Jin Cheng and Tang Cuo back toward East Cross Street, adjusting the megaphone as he went. Beside him was An Ning carrying a bottle of mineral water for him, worried he’d get thirsty from talking too much.
“Testing? Testing? Mr. Meng Yufei, can you hear this?”
“Please respond if you hear this.”
“Please respond if you hear this.”
“Alright, since you’re not answering, we will immediately proceed with item number two: friends of Zone F, Meng Yufei’s hair is fake! Please remember: his bedwetting is real, his stupidity is real, his stubby legs are real, but only his hair is fake!”
“Meng Yufei owns one hundred and eight wigs.”
“Every single wig is different.”
“Once, Meng Yufei was walking alongside his dean of discipline when a sudden gust of wind blew by—Force 4 on the Beaufort scale, blowing from the southeast. Question: Between Meng Yufei’s wig and the dean’s wig, whose flew off the fastest? Whose blew away the furthest?”
“…”
Chi Yan’s megaphone blared on and on, chattering endlessly as they made their way down the street. The players along the road watched with slack-jawed astonishment. This maneuver was so mind-boggling—unprecedented in their entire lives—that people couldn’t resist trailing behind just to see what else he would blurt out next.
Before long, a massive crowd had formed behind the four-person squad, with numbers swelling by the second.
Tang Cuo was completely deadpan.
What sin did I commit in a past life to be spectated like this?
Jin Cheng, on the other hand, was in high spirits. He thought Chi Yan was a bona fide genius; if they ever ran out of cash in the future, they could send him and Wen Xiaoming out to perform comic crosstalk on the street corner—guaranteed to make a killing.
He even asked Tang Cuo, “Why aren’t you laughing?”
Tang Cuo: “My face froze in the instance. Hasn’t thawed yet.”
You’re hilarious.
Just as Jin Cheng was about to compliment him, out of the corner of his eye he caught a glint of cold steel flashing across the rooftop of a building on the right. Vanishing just as quickly as that glint was the killing intent in Jin Cheng’s eyes.
“Here he comes.” As the words fell, Jin Cheng summoned his longbow and loosed an arrow toward empty air, moving as swift as lightning.
Clang—! The metallic arrowhead struck straight against the flat of a blade.
Tang Cuo lifted his eyes and caught sight of a petite, scrawny figure appearing mid-air, cleaving the arrow down with a blade. Accompanying the clatter of metal hitting the ground was a voice grinding out words through clenched teeth:
“JIN! CHENG!”
__
Author’s Note:
Evernight City Survival Tip: Provoke anyone you want, but never provoke Jin Cheng.
(Poor An Ning, she literally just exited the instance and several people in the comments are already asking who she is?)
