As the spy’s final vital signs dissipated, the entire instance space seemed to hit pause.
The wind stopped. The sound of flowing water vanished too.
[Sacrificial ritual completed.]
[Settling instance data…]
[Final surviving players of this A+ rank confrontation instance: Fu Songcheng, Yu Huaiting, Lu Xiao, Li Xiping.]
Hearing that list, Fu Songcheng slowly opened his eyes. His gaze passed over Yu Huaiting a few steps away and landed on the executioner—still clutching the chipped bone-cutting saber, trembling all over.
He looked at that tall man, his back hunched.
Li Xiping was gasping for breath, his gaze unfocused on the pure white ground, as if the spy player’s warm blood still lingered there.
Fragility, unwillingness, empathy—everyone had them. Who knew how anxious and agonized he’d been when forced to carry out that cruel punishment on his own kind. Only when the system’s cold announcement sounded did this forced executioner finally return to his identity as a human.
The instant she saw “Fu Songcheng,” Lu Xiao’s body went rigid.
Fu Songcheng.
That should be the Evil God player who never showed his face from beginning to end.
How good.
The person who’d entered with her was still alive. In a place where life was as cheap as grass, seeing an acquaintance alive and unharmed was itself a great comfort.
But also how terrible.
Lu Xiao looked at Li Xiping, the smile at the corner of her mouth slowly turning bitter.
So what if they’d survived? Countless more instances awaited them—to scheme, to betray, to abandon their bottom lines.
They were like insects kept in a venomous jar: today biting one of their own kind to death, tomorrow bitten to death by a stronger one of their own kind.
…
The white light dispersed, and Fu Songcheng and Yu Huaiting were back in the system’s safe zone.
Around them, players came and went with varied expressions; the noisy din instantly washed away the instance’s dead silence.
“Long time no see, Songcheng-gege~”
Yu Huaiting put the black wristband back on and gently put an arm around Fu Songcheng.
He skillfully circled it around his wrist, snapping it shut with a click.
“You were right beside me the whole time.” Fu Songcheng, unused to hugging in the street, bumped Yu Huaiting with his shoulder.
Yu Huaiting, aggrieved, was about to keep acting cute when the system’s settlement came down.
[Players ‘Fu Songcheng’ and ‘Yu Huaiting’ have successfully cleared the A+ rank confrontation instance.]
[Instance Completion Rating: A-rank.]
[Distributing clear rewards.]
[Congratulations to players ‘Fu Songcheng’ and ‘Yu Huaiting’. Points obtained: 10,000.]
Then, light flashed on the screen, and two completely different item icons dropped into their respective inventories.
Fu Songcheng opened his panel.
[Skill Name: Heart-Peek]
[Rank: A-rank support type]
[Effect: After using this item, designate one target. For the next thirty minutes, the player can precisely view the target’s current focus. This skill can only be used once per day.]
[“What do you care about? You don’t have to say—I’ll know.”]
Fu Songcheng raised an eyebrow. A skill-type reward—this was the first time he’d seen one, and the skill rather suited him. The instance had a bit of conscience after all; the point and skill rewards were more generous than last time.
He turned to look at Yu Huaiting beside him.
“Not showing you~”
Yu Huaiting knew Fu Songcheng wanted to see his, and deliberately acted out, turning away like a puppy guarding its food, but still glancing back to provoke Fu Songcheng.
“Beg me~”
Looking at him like this, Fu Songcheng found him unbearably cute.
“If you don’t show me, then don’t sleep with me tonight.”
Handled.
Yu Huaiting immediately shared his screen.
[Skill Name: Life-Claim]
[Rank: A+ rank pursuit type]
[Effect: Usable only in combat status. After use, the player permanently obtains the target’s precise geographic coordinates. This effect persists permanently, and can only be removed once either the user or the target dies. After this skill locks onto a target, it cannot be used again unless the target dies.]
[“To the death, without rest. Said I’d kill you—so I will.”]
It really did suit Yu Huaiting.
Seeing that both their newly obtained skills were practical and well-matched, Fu Songcheng couldn’t help but wonder: were the ones handing out rewards the same people who’d set them up?
Didn’t seem like it.
The wristband reward from A Thought of Old Dreams—rather than saying it removed the restrictions of their Bitter Couple identity, it was more like giving them a reason to separate.
Fu Songcheng had originally assumed this instance’s rewards would be mediocre, which was why he’d agreed when Lu Xiao offered items for her life.
He hadn’t expected it to be rather generous this time.
Yu Huaiting leaned close to Fu Songcheng. “Songcheng-gege’s seen it now, so tonight can I…”
Fu Songcheng was about to knock the puppy openly lusting in broad daylight when he suddenly saw his wrist, and his voice abruptly dropped. “Don’t move.”
“What is it?” Yu Huaiting instinctively grew wary.
“Your hand.”
Fu Songcheng stared at Yu Huaiting’s right wrist.
Beneath that black system wristband, at some unknown point, an extremely fine silk thread radiating a faint red glow had appeared.
The red thread had no physical form. It pierced through Yu Huaiting’s skin, growing on his wrist like a blood vessel—and the other end of the red thread stretched straight toward the end of the safe zone street, disappearing into the bustling crowd.
Yu Huaiting followed Fu Songcheng’s gaze.
“A tracking-type item?” He tried to pull the red thread off with his hand, but his fingers passed straight through it, as if it were merely a light projection.
Fu Songcheng calmly made his judgment. “And its priority is very high—it can break through the safe zone’s privacy protection mechanism.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know.” Fu Songcheng lifted his eyes, looking toward where the red thread extended. “Want to follow it and see?”
Since the other had left a clue, it meant the other’s coordinates were equally exposed.
Tracking was always two-way.
“Sure.” Yu Huaiting lowered his hand and strode in the direction of the red thread. “I was just getting into the instance—why’s someone adding an extra meal~”
The red thread extended toward the central plaza.
On the way, Fu Songcheng opened the public screen information panel.
Fu Songcheng had calculated well—he’d thought that as long as he actively opened an instance before the 4.0 forced entry deadline for all new players, they could avoid the most turbulent period. Maybe with some luck, by the time he and Yu Huaiting came out, the new order in the game zone would already be established.
But their instance had been too short.
There were still 19 hours and 14 minutes until the forced entry deadline for all new players.
“Didn’t escape it.” Fu Songcheng calculated the time and sighed silently in his heart.
Yu Huaiting didn’t know Fu Songcheng meant they hadn’t escaped the new players entering the instance—he thought Fu Songcheng meant the matter of someone tracking him. He said proudly, “What’s there to fear? I’m the number one—no need to escape.”
Nearby players overheard his bold declaration and turned to look—half in wariness, half with the look of watching an idiot brag.
Fu Songcheng pulled the puppy away quickly. “I know you’re impressive. Now hurry up.”
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