“Sure… sure.”
The “Fu Songcheng” opposite, hearing the team-up invitation, nodded almost immediately.
He paused, as if organizing his words, then tentatively looked at Yu Huaiting. “Since we’re entering the instance together, then in the instance, let’s look out for each other more.”
Yu Huaiting instantly lost interest.
He looked at the face before him, his brows furrowing imperceptibly.
Look out for each other?
Cooperate?
This person was completely different from the cold, restrained, even somewhat hard-boned feeling of their last meeting.
Had he been cowed by his aura?
Or was that undisguised rejection last time just because he didn’t know his number-one Power Ranking status, and now he was starting to curry favor?
Yu Huaiting sneered inwardly.
He didn’t dig deeper—wait until the instance. He’d like to see what this person had to get onto the Rating Ranking.
“No need to look out for each other,” Yu Huaiting turned away, his tone flippant and arrogant. “Just make sure you don’t drag me down. I hate dead weight most.”
“Fu Songcheng” nodded in agreement. “I know. I won’t cause you trouble.”
The agreed time, a day later.
[Loading B-rank instance: Avalon.]
[Matching players… Match successful. Player count this round: 6.]
White light swallowed the two.
[Player Yu Huaiting, identity: Assassin.]
[Player Fu Songcheng, identity: Morgana.]
The two woke at the station.
Almost the instant their feet touched the ground, Yu Huaiting drew the long saber at his waist.
He didn’t bother with any damn mission, nor study Avalon’s game rules. He flexed his wrist, his gaze like an eagle spotting prey, locking directly onto the few other players spawning at the other end of the station.
His usual clear method was simple and crude: flip the table.
As long as he killed every player and NPC besides his own people, the instance would clear naturally.
“Fu Songcheng, keep up.”
Yu Huaiting didn’t even turn his head, leaving that line behind as his whole body became an afterimage, charging toward the enemy players’ camp.
“Fu Songcheng” was rather familiar with his opening-rampage style. He didn’t stop Yu Huaiting’s near-mad-dog behavior—instead he took out his dagger and followed, joining the fight.
But the “Fu Songcheng” before him was nothing but a headless fly darting around the battlefield.
Yu Huaiting had just spotted his chance to cut the short-haired girl’s throat when out of the corner of his eye he caught a streak of silver swinging at him.
“Where the hell are you aiming?!”
Yu Huaiting dodged, landing in a sorry state, watching helplessly as the girl took the chance to escape.
He turned back, glaring viciously at “Fu Songcheng” not far away.
“Sorry! I misjudged your position…”
“Fu Songcheng” was pale, not daring to say a single word in retort.
Yu Huaiting ground his teeth and charged back into the crowd.
But the situation didn’t improve—it got worse.
“Fu Songcheng” seemed desperately eager to prove himself. He kept releasing skills, yet again and again disrupted Yu Huaiting’s rhythm.
Yu Huaiting was about to widen the distance and charge up—but the fool stood stupidly right in the path Yu Huaiting needed to retreat through.
Between the two of them, there seemed to be a natural repulsion—every time it felt like mutual torment.
“Get lost! Stop getting in the way!”
Yu Huaiting kicked away an enemy trying to sneak-attack, cursing loudly at “Fu Songcheng,” who’d blocked his line of sight again.
His patience was thoroughly spent; those sharp eyes were full of undisguised irritation and disgust.
“Fu Songcheng” shrank his neck at the scolding, still not talking back, silently stepping two paces aside, his movements stiff and awkward.
Yu Huaiting simply couldn’t understand.
This was the number two on the Rating Ranking’s ability?
This was a damn newbie who didn’t even know how to position!
That meek, timid manner, paired with that cool face, didn’t stir the slightest curiosity in Yu Huaiting—it only struck him as utterly absurd and off-putting.
The slaughter continued. Yu Huaiting’s movements grew broader and broader; he’d completely treated “Fu Songcheng” as thin air, even as an obstacle.
In the melee, Yu Huaiting was surrounded by Brother Dao, the short-haired girl, and the middle-aged man—three players.
His eyes turned cold. He swung the greatsword, his body spinning violently, the blade carving a lethal half-circle with a whistling wind.
“Fu Songcheng” happened to try to step in and help at that very moment, walking straight into Yu Huaiting’s attack range.
Yu Huaiting caught him from the corner of his eye, but not a second of hesitation crossed his mind.
Hold back?
On this battlefield where even his own life and death were disregarded, why should he hold back for a burden?
Swipe—
The blade sliced mercilessly across “Fu Songcheng’s” arm and shoulder, blood spraying instantly.
The pain made “Fu Songcheng” let out a scream, his whole body flung to the ground by the massive force, rolling several times before stopping—and the same wounds appeared on Yu Huaiting’s own body.
Yu Huaiting didn’t even glance at him. Using the momentum of his swing, he directly cut open the throat of the last person opposite.
The battle ended.
The floor was a wreck.
Yu Huaiting stood in the pool of blood, shaking the blood off his blade, his chest rising and falling slightly.
“Fu Songcheng” clutched his bleeding shoulder and struggled up from the ground.
He looked at Yu Huaiting’s back, his gaze complicated, but still said nothing—merely silently using a low-grade recovery potion on himself.
Yu Huaiting single-handedly cut his way through all of Avalon, while “Fu Songcheng” trailed far behind like an invisible man, until the system’s clear notification sounded.
[B-rank instance: Avalon cleared.]
[Settling rewards… teleporting to the system hall.]
A flash of white light, and the two were back in Fu Songcheng’s rest area.
The air still carried the faint smell of blood from the instance.
Yu Huaiting put away his greatsword, impatience written plainly on his face.
Entering an instance with this kind of person was less satisfying than going alone.
He’d originally thought he could find a companion to fight shoulder to shoulder with—or at least bring him some fun—but the facts proved he’d misjudged.
“Fu Songcheng” was a boring, weak, disappointing waste.
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