Lucky Cruise Ship
Chapter 598: I don’t think so
“?!”
Hearing the familiar voice, An Xin’s pupils contracted, and he jerked his head around.
The light from the arrow illuminated the darkness before him. Upon seeing the newcomer’s face, his expression turned to one of astonishment, and the bright light in his palm dimmed until it vanished.
“How—?”
Soon, he saw Figaro, and the hostility in his eyes flared up intensely again.
“…………You.”
“Ah, you still remember me,” Figaro bowed with a smile. “I am honored.”
An Xin stared at him, his face coated in a layer of frost. “You ran away.”
“But I’m back now,” Figaro emphasized hurriedly, seemingly afraid of being threatened by that arrow again. “And I brought reinforcements.”
“The damage is already done.” An Xin’s jaw muscles went tight, his voice restrained, but every word dripping with blood. “A squad of eight, four lost. Tong Yao is dead, and Qi Qian is missing—”
“At least you’re alive and kicking with all your limbs intact, aren’t you?”
Chen Cheng spoke coolly from nearby.
Indeed, compared to the anchors being dismembered and auctioned in the cages beside them, An Xin’s “completeness” could be considered lucky.
However, to him, this was by no means a compliment; rather, it was a sore spot that hurt upon contact.
An Xin’s expression was icy, looking as if he wanted to tear the other person apart with his eyes alone.
Chen Cheng stood with his arms crossed, his expression lazy. It was unclear if he was still holding a grudge over being pointed at with an arrow, but he lacked any self-awareness about making snide remarks.
“Enough.” Wen Jianyan had a bit of a headache.
He took a step forward, breaking the tense atmosphere between the few of them. There were too many veteran high-level anchors in the Lucky Cruise Ship instance; each one was unruly and maverick. The frequency of friction and the intensity of conflicts were reaching new highs compared to the past.
“If you want to fight, do it outside. Now is not the time.”
He looked at An Xin and went straight to the point. “You just said Qi Qian is missing? What does that mean?”
An Xin looked at Wen Jianyan, his expression dimming slightly. Finally, he was no longer as hostile toward everything as he had been a moment ago. “Different levels of auction items are sorted into different areas. He was taken away… I don’t know where he is being kept.”
Wen Jianyan glanced at Blond. Blond immediately understood and began scanning the darkness with his gaze once more.
“What exactly happened before? How were you captured?” Wen Jianyan pressed.
“According to our plan, all of Carl Bell’s vital points were pierced. He was near death. But an accident still happened,” An Xin said. “At the last moment, he broke away from the form of human flesh and mutated into countless shadows with hollow faces. Each shadow can move independently, and neither their voices nor forms can be distinguished from one another. We couldn’t find his main body, and we were forced to separate because of it.”
“Once you make eye contact with Carl Bell’s shadow, it begins a ‘valuation’,” An Xin gritted his teeth, seemingly recalling something. “Once the valuation is successful, a transaction relationship is forcibly established… and then you become like this.”
Just then, Blond withdrew his gaze and shook his head with a grave expression.
“I can’t find Qi Qian.”
If Blond, with his enhanced vision, couldn’t find Qi Qian’s location, then there was a high probability that he simply wasn’t here.
An Xin said, “Between the pillar anchors of Dark Fire, we have our own unique way of pathfinding, it’s just…”
He lowered his head and hatefully tugged at something on his neck.
Because the light was too dim, Wen Jianyan only now saw clearly what was on the other’s neck—it was a twisted black spine, covered in strange blood-red markings. It was very similar to the chains that had trapped Wen Jianyan before and forced him out of the livestream interface, but its appearance was doubly grotesque.
Or rather… what had trapped Wen Jianyan back then was this exact thing, only now it had finally torn off its disguise and returned to its original form.
“With this thing on, I can’t use items, nor can I access the livestream interface. The only thing I can use is my Talent.” An Xin gave a short, sharp laugh. Although the smile was as bright as usual, it carried a ruthless edge. “It’s a pity that the person who lifted the cloth just now wasn’t Carl Bell.”
Chen Cheng squinted at him, seeming to want to squeeze out a cold snort.
“Don’t worry,” Wen Jianyan flicked the iron lock of the cage with his fingertip and said, “This is an ordinary lock, nothing special about it. It can be easily pried open.”
“As for the thing on your neck, that’s even simpler,” Wen Jianyan pointed at Figaro. “He can handle it.”
“…”
An Xin was stunned and couldn’t help but give him an extra glance, seemingly surprised that the other party was so familiar with the routine.
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[Surprised, aren’t you? It’s not his first time here!]
[That’s right, he’s an old regular.]
[Hahahahahaha, that’s so mean!]
Wen Jianyan had intended to step forward and pick the lock, but before he could act, Kong Wei took a step forward. His large, bronzed hand gripped the lock of the iron cage. The next second, with a crack, the sturdy lock snapped into several pieces and fell to the ground.
Wen Jianyan: “…”
That works too.
An Xin walked out of the cage. Figaro sighed and stepped forward under An Xin’s icy stare. “Although I am the Liaison, doing this kind of thing isn’t entirely without burden for me…”
With a soft click, the spine that was tightly wrapped around An Xin’s neck loosened. However, before Figaro could let go, the spine seemed to suddenly come alive. It coiled around like a snake, the blood-red patterns on the black bone writhing, and then—abruptly opened!
Those patterns were actually closed eyes!
Blood-red eyeballs rolled around on the spine, staring at Figaro, emitting a strange clucking sound: “…Traitor…”
Figaro’s expression changed drastically.
“Bad news!!”
Blond’s face suddenly turned pale. In his vision, which was dyed red, he saw foreign objects wriggling in the depths of the darkness. They flowed out like liquid from places vision couldn’t touch, converging into identical human shapes. Their hollow heads turned slightly, seeming to “look” toward them.
“!!”
Blond jerked his gaze back, the heart-pounding sensation lingering.
“Run, quick!!”
With lowered eyes and cold sweat beading on his pale forehead, he raised his hand and pointed in a direction. “Over there, there’s a gap over there!”
“But Qi Qian…” An Xin stared at the darkness behind them in the opposite direction, gritting his teeth unwillingly.
“We can’t!” Blond raised his voice, a rare occurrence that sounded almost piercing. “It’s too dense that way!!”
“Lie low for now!” Wen Jianyan grabbed An Xin’s arm, speaking very fast. “Don’t worry, this place is still operating according to the auction’s original rules. Since Qi Qian is a high-rated auction item, he won’t encounter danger so quickly.”
Even though he was desperate to save his friend, An Xin wasn’t one to let emotions blind him. He took a deep breath and nodded.
“I understand. Let’s go.”
Guided by Ma QI, the group sprinted as fast as they could in the direction Blond had pointed out.
The temperature in the air dropped again and again, making them shiver all over. Soon, even without eyesight as excellent as Blond’s, everyone could clearly see the black human figures closing in from all directions. The silhouette of each one looked exactly like Carl Bell, yet none of them seemed to be him.
“Ah…” A sigh came from the darkness.
The voice sounded almost right next to Wen Jianyan’s ear, making him shudder violently as goosebumps erupted across his skin.
“Unexpectedly, at an unforeseen moment, my collection has been recovered.”
A “Carl Bell” on the left extended a pitch-black palm, grabbing toward Wen Jianyan, who dodged it by a hair’s breadth.
“My precious, precious collection…”
A “Carl Bell” on the right leaned down, its hollow face approaching the team.
“Get lost!”
Chen Cheng shouted sharply. His pitch-black Tang Sword sliced through the air, severing its head directly. The headless shadow of “Carl Bell” dissolved into the darkness, but soon, a new head was “molded” out again.
“Why run?”
Carl Bell’s voice came from behind. It sounded exactly like the voice in their memories, yet it Carried a strange intonation that made one’s hair stand on end.
In the swaying, forcibly lowered field of view, the passage to enter the warehouse appeared again—only fifteen meters left!
“Let me price you.”
This time, his voice came from the front left.
Then from the back right.
—“Only on my auction stage do you possess value.”
The voice was distorted by its high pitch, layering over itself, repeating again and again, as if emitted by countless mouths simultaneously, echoing and circling in the darkness.
“Sought after by the masses, the highest value—”
Five meters!
Figaro took several large strides forward. He pushed his palm, wearing the red agate ring, against the wall, and the passage opened again.
“Friends, pick up the pace.”
His voice carried its usual elegant tone.
Without turning his head, a giant scythe appeared out of thin air, gripped in his gloved palm. It carved an elegant arc through the air. The area swept by the scythe fell instantly silent, as if branded with some kind of seal; the shadows hovering outside could not approach a single step.
The group didn’t stop for a moment, rushing straight out of the corridor.
Unknown to them, the auction outside had stopped. A shadow of “Carl Bell” stood straight on the auction stage, “looking” at them with its hollow face. In the darkness at the edge of the venue, more “Carl Bells” emerged, swimming over swiftly and silently.
Cannot make eye contact.
Otherwise, they would be put up for sale.
Cannot fight.
The killed Carl Bells would return quickly.
In this desperate situation, suddenly, hand after hand reached out from all around. Those hands were wrapped tightly. Following the arms, they saw face after face covered in pitch-black masks devoid of features—it was the Tenants!
The group was horrified.
They hadn’t dared to look closely before, but only now did they realize that the people bidding below and auctioning off human organs were actually the “Tenants” of this ship!
And at this moment, countless tenants left their seats, blocking the path to the oil paintings.
No escape, no retreat.
“Damn it!” Chen Cheng spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes fierce. He tightened his grip on the Tang Sword, the blood on his arm having already dyed his sleeve red—
The blade whistled, splitting a Tenant’s mask. The black fog hidden beneath lost its anchor and dispersed. But destroying one was not enough. Before Chen Cheng could even retract his blade, another palm reached out, grabbing his arm tightly, followed by a second, then a third—
Meters away.
Wen Jianyan’s vision went black, breathing became difficult, and a cold sensation shot up from his fingertips.
He tilted his head and glanced at his body—more than half of it was dyed red with gushing blood. The bandages that were originally pressed against the wound had loosened due to the intense running. However, because of the painkillers, Wen Jianyan hadn’t realized this in time.
After all, pain… is a self-defense mechanism.
Just then, countless hands reached out from all directions and grabbed him.
Bad…
Wen Jianyan wanted to struggle, but the movement suddenly stopped.
He didn’t know if it was an illusion, but he seemed to notice… not far away, the steps of the “Carl Bells” had stopped. The “Tenants” surrounding them acted like a distinct river channel, blocking all those pursuing black shadows a few steps away.
“Distinguished guest, what is the meaning of this?”
The “Carl Bell” standing at the very front spoke slowly.
“You are intercepting an escaped auction item.”
A cold palm supported Wen Jianyan’s waist, pulling him firmly into an embrace.
The tall tenant slowly raised a hand and unhurriedly removed the pitch-black mask from his face.
“Is that so?”
Wu Zhu held the mask, his golden eyes ferocious.
“I don’t think so.”
In the “Integrity First” live room chat:
[?]
[Wait??]
[Holy sh*t????]
[Who is this?!!!]
[Holy crap, that face! It looks familiar, a bit familiar!! I think I’ve seen him in another instance before!!]
[Ahhhhhh what is going on with this Tenant?? Holy crap, what happened? Can someone sync me up ahhhhh!!!]
The auction hall was dead silent. The tenant holding the black mask, along with the Controller he surrounded, faced off against the actual owner of the auction venue not far away. The air almost solidified into a physical weight, pressing down so hard it was impossible to breathe.
“Guest, please return the auction item—it belongs to the auction.” The level of alienation in “Carl Bell’s” voice seemed to have increased. Along with the frequency of his speech, the entire venue seemed to vibrate.
Seemingly sensing that the other party was unthreatened and unwilling to yield an inch, the cold killing intent in “Carl Bell’s” voice rose. “If you still refuse to return it, I’m afraid I will have to—”
“On what basis?”
A faint, light voice rang out, interrupting Carl Bell.
Carl Bell slowly turned his head, “looking” at the person who spoke with the hollow hole in his skull.
The young man, pale-faced and covered in blood, had one arm wrapped around the other man’s neck. His eyes were half-open, the pupils beneath unfocused. His voice sounded very weak due to excessive blood loss, but his enunciation was exceptionally clear, the final notes rising slowly at the end.
“You say I belong to the auction… on what basis?”
He put his entire body weight on Wu Zhu, burying his head in the crook of the other’s neck. His eyes glanced sideways as he lifted the hem of his already tattered clothes, revealing most of his taut waistline.
On the pale skin, complex golden runic patterns were clearly visible, growing from beneath the skin like some kind of invisible shackle.
The curse patterns spread from his hip bone to his lower abdomen, adorned with the color of blood, winding along the texture of his muscles, and finally disappearing deep into the darkness where the light could not touch.
With his other blood-stained hand, Wen Jianyan patted Wu Zhu’s cheek frivolously—like being intimate with a lover who was obedient to his every whim.
He chuckled lightly and said nonchalantly:
“If I recall correctly, this seems to be your name, doesn’t it? Dear.”
Wen Jianyan VOCÊ É UM PIRRALHO!!! o que sua equipe vai pensar de você????