ICSST CH124: Swallowing Like a Whale, Devouring Like a Tiger

The benchmark of life, Zhou Qi’an, was heading back to the place where he first discovered the fake rat.

After regaining his sense of smell, Zhou Qi’an could clearly detect the nearby scent of blood. To be safe, he took out his staff instead of the small hammer. The staff allowed him to maintain a greater distance from the statue.

Bang.

A crisp sound rang out as cracks appeared on the statue’s surface, centered on the strike point. The material was even harder than he expected. After several strikes, the statue shattered, revealing a bloodied, mangled figure that collapsed to the ground.

Zhou Qi’an immediately stepped back.

The man fell heavily, blood foam at his mouth: “Ugh…”

Zhou Qi’an said, “No need to thank me.”

“…At least help me up!”

Uncertain if he was human or ghost, Zhou Qi’an stood aside. After a while, Qiao Song finally crawled up, his blood-covered face showing little sign of a noble youth.

Zhou Qi’an saw a deep claw mark on Qiao Song’s back; apparently, like himself, he was ambushed by the former owner in a state of complete sensory loss.

The question was—how did he survive?

“Drugged up,” Qiao Song muttered, as if guessing Zhou Qi’an’s thoughts.

Shen Zhiyi, for some unknown excuse, took the little girl toward the door, indirectly allowing Zhou Qi’an to freely use his sacred weapon.

“Touch.”

Qiao Song was too weak to resist, his eyelids stuck with blood. He cooperatively placed his hand on the weapon, treating it like a ghost detector.

If it were him, he would be suspicious too.

After a few seconds, Qiao Song was not punished by the weapon.

However, the wound on his back itched terribly during recovery, and he struggled to resist scratching it.

“Should be fine now?” he said.

Zhou Qi’an retracted the sacred weapon and nodded, “Let’s go.”

Qiao Song: “…”

If he could walk, would he still be lying down?

After a while, he barely forced out, “Give me five minutes.”

Meanwhile, Zhou Qi’an went to the lost-and-found. The shop owner’s head had already been bitten off by the hound; a headless corpse hung half on the iron box.

With deft hands, Zhou Qi’an felt the waist of the corpse and easily retrieved a key.

It was his now.

Silently pocketing the key, Zhou Qi’an waited patiently nearby.

After a moment, Qiao Song slowly recovered mobility, and the two walked out one after another.

---

Outside the shop.

The little girl found a handbag and packed up the shop owner’s head.

Almost simultaneously, Chen Su and the others who went to inquire about news returned. Seeing only the girl and Shen Zhiyi, they were stunned:

“Just the two of you left?”

As Zhou Qi’an and Qiao Song came out, the other players looked even more surprised.

Given the difficulty of this instance, full survival with two fewer people was unbelievable.

After a moment of scrutiny, they formed a judgment.

It must have been a rather perilous round—putting aside the bloodied Qiao Song, they had already glimpsed some of Zhou Qi’an’s strength. The young man’s clothes were nearly soaked with blood, indicating the high difficulty.

The boss sighed with relief, “Fortunately.”

Looking at the instance again, injuries in-game were not counted as work injury, so the company saved on reimbursement.

Zhou Qi’an knew what the vampire boss was thinking and sneered inwardly, speaking mildly, “It’s already resolved. Let’s go.”

Everyone left the experience hall.

Zhou Qi’an walked last.

Click.

Before leaving, he expertly locked the door to the Human Experience Hall.

The players hadn’t gone far when they stopped, confused.

Why bother locking the door when the shop owner was dead?

Zhou Qi’an said, “What if property in the shop gets lost?”

“…”

Fortunately, Zhou Qi’an occasionally said surprisingly sensible things, so the others developed resistance to his oddities. Qiao Song awkwardly laughed to smooth things over, “You’re just too thoughtful.”

Not long after, Chen Su brought the topic back to business:

“According to our inquiries, the newspaper boss had publicly criticized three shops, claiming the Human Experience Hall scared people, accusing the barbecue shop of being unhygienic, and the swimming pool’s water of causing virus infections…

A year ago, the newspaper office suffered a fire, killing many employees. The boss was rushed for emergency treatment and only recently returned to running the newspaper.”

Zhou Qi’an twitched his mouth—probably a ghost came back.

Chen Su’s expression was strange too: “Definitely a ghost. I even asked. The three shops he criticized mostly operate at night.”

A living person going after three ghosts? The outcome was predictable.

“Sixth Master” stroked his goatee and sighed, “The boss meant well but ran into trouble.”

It was clearly not an accident; most likely, the boss was killed by ghosts. With a grudge unresolved, turned ghost, forced by ghost market rules, he couldn’t do anything.

Shortly after he finished, thunder roared, lightning tore through clouds, briefly illuminating the night before heavy rain began.

Wind and rain whipped wildly; even under eaves, drops splattered faces. The situation was worse than the weather forecast.

Yuan Zhenshu said, “Let’s leave here first.”

With the weather, tourists disappeared; the entire ghost market instantly became desolate, trash swirling in the air, creating an eerie atmosphere.

Qiao Song, walking last, still bent to protect the healing wound on his back.

Night travel was tough. In a puddle on the ground, he saw Shen Zhiyi’s reflection.

Shen Zhiyi slightly bowed his head, eyes fixed on Zhou Qi’an’s back, rain washing blood from his shirt.

Like sensing he was watched, Shen Zhiyi suddenly looked up.

Qiao Song shivered and quickly looked away. That gaze was scarier than a ghost.

Bad weather made cabs scarce. Finally, a van arrived, and everyone squeezed in.

The driver complained about their wet state, “Where to?”

Qiao Song replied haltingly, “Hao…”

“Finally caught a ride,” Zhou Qi’an glanced coldly at him and mumbled, “Just stop at Blue Bird Café.”

Having just completed a mission, everyone was in a relaxed state.

Suddenly, Zhou Qi’an interrupted, tightening the atmosphere.

Qiao Song belatedly realized something, sweating coldly. People here hated the Haohui Shark Group. In selling insurance, they had often been chased and attacked.

Tonight coincidentally, they caught an overloaded van, probably a trap laid by the game.

What if the driver had a grudge against the group, panicked, and steered the vehicle erratically, resulting in a wipeout?

“Sorry,” Qiao Song whispered.

The clawed wound on his back itched unbearably, seeming poisonous, clouding his thoughts.

He glanced at Zhou Qi’an.

Though scratched similarly, Zhou Qi’an showed no signs of poisoning.

Unbeknownst to Zhou Qi’an, as the “big brother,” he was not poisoned but had actually poisoned the shop owner.

The driver kept complaining: “The forecast said heavy rain for several days; tomorrow might have hail…”

Players listened silently.

Arriving at Blue Bird Café, the driver didn’t ask why they came so late, complaining, “Damn Haohui Sharks! Bankrupted me. Driving at night to earn money…”

The players expressionless, alighted one by one, ensuring the van didn’t circle back, relaxed, then began trudging back in the rain.

Tired and hungry, Yuan Zhenshu frowned, “The forecast is a warning. Tomorrow night will definitely be dangerous.”

According to tonight’s assignment, it was their turn to pick between the swimming pool and barbecue shop.

Zhou Qi’an lazily said, “Dangerous at night—what about daytime?”

Everyone’s steps faltered. Yuan Zhenshu instinctively replied, “Special ghost shops only open at night.”

“So? Does the shop move during the day?”

“…”

Zhou Qi’an narrowed his eyes, “Shops only open at night, and going there at night, it’s no cause and effect.”

Ghosts mostly stay in their territory. Whether you enter the main door, climb over the wall, or pick the lock, they stay put.

Usually, ghosts are easier to deal with during the day.

Realizing the logical fallacy, Yuan Zhenshu fell silent, smiling awkwardly.

Others didn’t tease her; clearly more than one was confused.

Zhou Qi’an continued, “We came tonight out of necessity.”

They needed the zombie newspaper to kill Manager Wang quickly to solve problems with Chen Su; besides, the boss was happy to add night shifts!

Their souls were euphoric!

Shen Zhiyi caught his floating mood and smirked.

Zhou Qi’an realized and quickly composed himself, politely falling behind his leader, “There’s something I haven’t reported…”

After a pause, Zhou Qi’an said, “I killed the Experience Hall owner and inherited the shop.”

Silence fell for two seconds.

Beneath his cultured appearance, the leader’s eyes gleamed greedily: “Oh?”

Zhou Qi’an nodded, “In the ghost market, shop ownership can be obtained through killing.”

He added softly; his leader’s inhuman eyes shifted.

Zhou Qi’an respectfully said, “Employees’ interests are company interests. You wouldn’t let our interests be harmed, right?”

The rain grew heavier. The leader suddenly laughed, “Of course not.”

---

After a long climb back to the eleventh floor, they finally escaped the rain.

“Here you are.” Yuan handed over the handbag with the head.

The newspaper zombie came for Zhou Qi’an first and would probably demand loot from him later.

With only a few hours till dawn, everyone exchanged a few words, then returned to dorms to rest for tomorrow’s mission.

Zhou Qi’an was ready to return to his room.

Shen Zhiyi thought Zhou Qi’an would talk about the shadow—he had basically confirmed Mu Tianbai as part of his disguised identities.

Instead, Zhou Qi’an briefly mentioned, “Tonight…”

He slowly spoke about mission matters, never mentioning the shadow, as if nothing had happened.

Shen Zhiyi felt uneasy.

“Qi’an…”

Putting other thoughts aside, Zhou Qi’an glanced meaningfully at his shadow before entering, “Good night, all.”

Shen Zhiyi: “…”

Their windowless single room’s walls seeped coldness in the rain.

Zhou Qi’an checked his panel: 0/3 ghosts slain after killing the demon. As the mission said, he must personally hand over ghost heads to the newspaper zombie, one head counting as one kill.

Despite exhaustion, he patiently waited for the ghost’s arrival.

The wait was long.

Every once in a while, Zhou Qi’an checked the time.

At 4:04 am, a knock came—

Knock knock knock.

The bottom of the handbag dripped blood; the head inside looked viciously, accusing its untimely death.

Zhou Qi’an put the bag down and opened the door.

A chilling draft blew in; he offered the bag, the sticky blood dripping on the floor.

The newspaper slowly slid down; the zombie lowered its eyes, looking down at the head. After a moment, the paper moved further down, revealing a burned face.

“You… killed?”

Zhou Qi’an nodded.

The paper continued lowering, eventually covering the head, which the yellowed paper slowly absorbed.

Zhou Qi’an hurried to pull back.

At this moment, he saw a news report on the paper: “Human Experience Hall operating illegally, recklessly endangering lives!”

[It’s reported that the hall did not forbid customers with heart conditions but deliberately lured them with warm experiences…]

While Zhou Qi’an read, the original owner’s head was fully absorbed by the paper.

The letters faded, leaving only the prominent “Fengdu Daily” at the top.

“Follow me,” the newspaper zombie resumed its initial posture.

Its voice was hoarse and slow, emitting black ashes.

“We’re going where?”

The zombie said nothing, dragging its feet forward.

Zhou Qi’an thought a moment and followed.

The light at the corridor’s end flickered as the zombie neared.

Its slow steps never stopped until reaching the bathroom.

Near the farthest stall, it finally stopped.

Two raisin-like eyeballs stared fixedly at the door.

Behind the filthy door was no toilet but a store room with mop and broom piled up.

“Farthest inside,” the zombie croaked again.

Following its instructions, Zhou Qi’an moved the clutter and found a canister painted with a red sun.

He painstakingly read the product label:

[Red Sun Detergent. Easily removes any stain without leaving a trace.]

The middle-aged woman used this to clear blood stains, falsely accusing the tattooed man of murder. Using this detergent, players could conveniently wash away suspicion.

Just as Zhou Qi’an turned around with the detergent, a bloody stench hit him.

Shadows descended without warning.

The newspaper zombie, like earlier absorbing the head, began covering Zhou Qi’an’s face with its paper—now a burnt, foul-smelling human skin sheet.

Zhou Qi’an desperately leaned back, his wounds splitting in struggle, the pain helping him regain some control.

But in the next moment, his body went limp. Darkness engulfed him; the stench disappeared.

“Ugh…”

Touch, vision, taste… just like in the Human Experience Hall, his five senses faded.

Suddenly, Zhou Qi’an had a horrifying realization.

No wonder the newspaper boss insisted on taking heads back—absorbing them lets the paper gain other ghosts’ abilities.

“Holy crap…” Such a ridiculously powerful ability.

The newspaper zombie’s expressionless face was just millimeters from Zhou Qi’an’s.

As the paper nearly covered his face, the zombie suddenly leaned back.

A crimson necktie appeared from nowhere, tightly strangling the white neck.

The tie tightened, nearly choking the throat.

“Ugh…”

The zombie’s rubbery tongue fell out.

Struggling, it temporarily abandoned the target and twisted its arms back, pressing the newspaper against an uninvited guest.

Zhou Qi’an’s five senses snapped back. No time to breathe; he summoned his staff.

“Take this!”

Like a golf swing, his prior weakness gave him strength. Holding the staff firmly, he swung hard at the zombie.

The sun emblem bent inward; the zombie stumbled.

Its resistance was strong; aside from a deformed head, it did not fall but immediately counterattacked.

The red headline on the paper became a blood puddle, resembling forked tongues stabbing at Zhou Qi’an and the necktie wearer.

Dodging, the zombie escaped peril, its face gloomier than the storm outside.

It seemed unaware of the arriving backup.

Surviving the ordeal, Zhou Qi’an’s face was pale as snow.

But then he gave a radiant smile: “Of course, because you’re stupid.”

“…With your few coins, you dare bargain with me?”

The boss smoothly fixed his tie, mind elsewhere.

He eyed the newspaper zombie, snorted, “Burnt.”

This dinner was inedible.

The newspaper boss eyed them viciously, wishing to devour them alive.

Two against one, yet neither had advantage.

With the terrifying newspaper zombie’s skills plus its newly absorbed powers, violent defeat seemed impossible.

This was almost an unbeatable monster.

Only Zhou Qi’an’s threat with sacred weapon and the boss’s inhuman power made the zombie hesitate.

During the standoff, the old light bulb flickered faster.

Zhou Qi’an’s smile did not reach his eyes.

He doubted the newspaper boss would betray him, but never overestimated ghosts’ kindness.

Ten previous groups had all fallen to this ghost.

“You have businesses in the ghost market too, so you know killing a shop owner grants management rights,” Zhou Qi’an tilted his head, “I’m now the Experience Hall owner. Kill me, and you can take over management easily.”

Killing one enemy, getting a shop for free—that’s a perfect plan.

This was a deeply cunning ghost, making Zhou Qi’an feel wary.

But no matter.

Tonight, he told Shen Zhiyi not to interfere—a man without enough ruthlessness. The boss was different; he’d surely act when Zhou Qi’an was on the edge of life and death.

Using this time, Zhou Qi’an observed:

First, the newspaper could absorb other ghost abilities.

Second, the boss never attacked from behind, likely requiring the paper to touch the face for effect. Contact with the back of the head or body might weaken or nullify it.

Most importantly, the boss delayed attacking despite chance, probably because the paper had a cooldown.

From head absorption to backstab, four minutes and thirty-five seconds elapsed.

Zhou Qi’an’s smile deepened.

With this info, capturing the boss’s management rights was closer than ever.

Beside him, the boss flicked his tongue and laughed low.

Not sure if this currency was the same as New World’s, but either way, it wouldn’t stop him from hoarding capital for the company’s future.

“Heh heh heh…”

“Ha ha ha…”

Two distinct laughs echoed in the bathroom.

The newspaper zombie’s dried eyelids twitched furiously.

—

Author’s Note:

Zhou Qi’an: A fake capitalist.

Superior: A true capitalist.

Newspaper owner: A capitalist who thinks he’s a capitalist.