“…Fine.”
He should have told this guy in advance what he was going to do.
Fu Songcheng’s soul body helplessly spun once in midair, then transformed into a wisp of nearly invisible black smoke and burrowed back into the cloth doll hanging at Yu Huaiting’s waist.
Yu Huaiting immediately sensed the change at his waist.
Fu Songcheng was back.
The Yu Huaiting who’d just been radiating killing intent, like a god of death, instantly had the cold, keep-away aura around him scatter completely.
His gaze visibly softened.
He reached out and lightly patted the cloth doll at his waist through his clothes.
“Where did you go just now?”
Yu Huaiting lowered his voice.
No sound came from inside the cloth doll. Fu Songcheng was angry and didn’t want to deal with the culprit who’d ruined his possession plan for the moment.
Yu Huaiting didn’t mind Fu Songcheng’s silence either—he happily shared his new outfit.
“Look at me!”
Yu Huaiting’s tone grew a little excited.
He set the doll on a stone bench, stepped back two paces to open the distance, and then, very deliberately, within the doll’s line of sight, slowly turned in a circle.
From inside the doll, Fu Songcheng watched this baffling behavior.
“How is it? Good-looking, right?”
Yu Huaiting stopped, crossed his arms over his chest, and grinned at the little Fu Songcheng doll.
“Good-looking, good-looking.” Fu Songcheng brushed him off with two words and cut to the point. “Any other clues?”
“My mission line is to complete the sacrifice.”
He gestured in midair.
“A complete sacrifice needs three core elements. First, a priest to communicate with the deity; second, a sacrifice as the gift offered to the god; third, an executioner to carry out the sacrificial rite.”
“The mission prompt said this sacrifice should have started long ago. But because the executioner has been dragging his feet, refusing to take his position, the whole ritual has been stuck here, unable to proceed.”
Fu Songcheng was surprised Yu Huaiting actually had this many clues and pressed further. “Anything else?”
Yu Huaiting stepped closer and pointed at the corpse nearby, so mutilated it barely resembled a human. His tone carried a self-perceived casual showing-off: “Oh, right. I just took care of a player. Died after a couple hits.”
From inside the doll, Fu Songcheng felt his temples throbbing.
He took a deep breath and pulled the corners of his mouth into a smile that wasn’t a smile. “Then you really did well, Great Killer Yu.”
Yu Huaiting didn’t catch Fu Songcheng’s sarcasm and even pretended to be modest: “You flatter me, you flatter me. Basic operation.”
Fu Songcheng couldn’t be bothered to flirt with him and turned serious. “In the instance—the players with the ‘Executioner’ and ‘Sacrifice’ identities you just said are essential to completing the sacrifice—don’t kill them if you run into them.”
After all, their mission was to complete the sacrifice, and players with key identities were indispensable.
Yu Huaiting agreed with a grin. “Sure.”
Though Yu Huaiting agreed readily, the fire in Fu Songcheng’s heart hadn’t fully subsided.
Looking at Yu Huaiting’s attitude—agreeing but still careless—the more he thought, the angrier he got.
Fu Songcheng controlled the doll to leap up abruptly, nimbly grabbing the edge of Yu Huaiting’s hanging long robe.
In the blink of an eye, the doll had climbed onto Yu Huaiting’s shoulder.
Before Yu Huaiting could ask, Fu Songcheng had already maneuvered the doll to extend its cloth hand, grab Yu Huaiting’s ear, and without any courtesy, yank it hard downward!
“Ouch—”
Yu Huaiting cooperatively let out a yelp—though with the doll’s strength, it didn’t actually hurt; at most it was an affectionate tug.
He wasn’t sure why Fu Songcheng was rewarding him, but whatever—just accept the reward first.
“Songcheng-gege~”
Yu Huaiting laughed it off with a grin, extending a finger to lightly poke the doll’s soft little belly, only to be mercilessly swatted away by the doll.
He wasn’t annoyed, just kept leaning in to pester.
Seeing Yu Huaiting like this, Fu Songcheng let out a cold humph, released his hand, and sat down on Yu Huaiting’s shoulder.
“Back to business. Since you’ve received the priest’s mission line, do you have a way to find the executioner?”
He paused, his tone deepening. “I just floated around the village. Among the current players and key NPCs, I still haven’t seen the two identities of Executioner and Daoist.”
Yu Huaiting rubbed his ear and answered carelessly: “The executioner… let me think. The clue should be with the village chief.”
“I’m the priest, responsible for communicating with the gods—but the concrete preparation, personnel arrangement, and presiding of each sacrificial event are all done by the village chief.”
Yu Huaiting analyzed methodically. “Since the village chief handles coordination, he should know who the executioner is and why they haven’t taken their position. We just need to find the village chief and ask…”
“Oh—I think I just killed the village chief, though…”
Yu Huaiting’s eyes drifted slightly. He rubbed his nose a little guiltily and gave a dry cough. “Um… asking might not be possible anymore.”
The air seemed to freeze in that instant.
A moment of dead silence.
Three seconds later, unable to bear Fu Songcheng’s silence, Yu Huaiting took the initiative to break the awkwardness.
“Songcheng-gege won’t blame me, right…”
“I will, though.” Having spent so long with Yu Huaiting, Fu Songcheng had picked up some of his syrupy tone, smiling at Yu Huaiting—which only made Yu Huaiting more guilty.
Seeing that acting coquettish was useless, Yu Huaiting hurried to explain. “I couldn’t help it! That attitude of his—anyone would want to chop him! And—and even though he’s dead, there must still be clues in his house! Letters, name registers, that stuff. Dead men don’t hide things—we’ll go look ourselves…”
“At least you’ve got some brains.” Fu Songcheng turned his head. “Let’s go.”
“At your command!” Seeing him relent, Yu Huaiting, carrying Fu Songcheng, strode toward the depths of the village.
The village chief’s house was actually easy to find.
Not only was it more spacious and luxurious than Yu Huaiting’s priest residence—more importantly, it was built on the highest ground in the village.
In Anning Village, plagued by days of torrential rain and frequent floods, the village chief’s residence was like a fortress.
Even as the lower parts of the village were half-submerged by the floods, the foul, muddy water couldn’t reach the high bluestone steps of the chief’s house.
Class and privilege existed everywhere.
The bluestone path leading uphill was slippery from the wet, but compared to the mud below, it was practically clean.
The two walked side by side down the street.
Yu Huaiting’s ornate, eerie priest robe stood out starkly in the gray rain-mist.
Just past a corner, they ran head-on into a child who looked only seven or eight.
The child had been walking along the roadside with his head down, searching for something. Hearing footsteps, he instinctively looked up.
The instant his gaze touched Yu Huaiting’s priest attire, it was as if he’d seen some extremely terrifying monster—his little face went whoosh paper-white, drained of all color.
The child’s body went rigid. He didn’t even dare scream—almost out of pure instinct, he immediately pressed his head down dead, chin tight against his chest.
He shrank his shoulders, pressing his thin little body as close to the cold wall as possible, pretending he was just a lump of air, pretending he’d seen nothing.
Yu Huaiting raised an eyebrow slightly.
He didn’t pay the child any mind—just found it a little strange.
Continuing forward, they encountered several more hurried NPC villagers.
Without exception.
Everyone who saw Yu Huaiting—man or woman, old or young—instantly showed an expression of extreme terror, then immediately lowered their heads, made way, pressed against the wall, held their breath—as if a single second of eye contact with Yu Huaiting would drag them straight down to hell by the Grim Reaper.
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