This time, Quan Heng—playing Fu Songcheng—had learned from the previous round’s failure.
He didn’t agree eagerly or act meek and timid like before.
Quan Heng, or rather “Fu Songcheng,” stood in place, lifted his chin slightly, and tried hard to imitate Fu Songcheng’s usual cold, aloof tone, speaking calmly: “I’m afraid you’ll drag me down.”
Hearing this, Yu Huaiting in the screen indeed froze for a moment.
But he quickly chuckled, his eyes full of excitement at being provoked.
“Afraid I’ll drag you down?” Yu Huaiting stepped closer. “Seen the rankings? I’m number one. I’m willing to team up with you—count yourself lucky. What, just got number two and you don’t know your own name anymore?”
“Since we’re teaming up, then we follow the rules.”
“Fu Songcheng’s” voice was flat. “I don’t like meaningless risks. If you still act like a madman in the instance, I’ll prioritize my own survival.”
Yu Huaiting raised an eyebrow. “Sure. As long as you can keep up.”
When the agreed time came, the two were once again teleported into the B-rank instance: Avalon.
Still Avalon Station. From the very start, they were surrounded by enemy players.
“Fu Songcheng” didn’t stop him; Yu Huaiting drew his long saber and charged out without a care.
This time, “Fu Songcheng” was unhurried.
The tech department had raised all his attributes; his reaction speed and strength were now even somewhat higher than Yu Huaiting’s.
He watched Yu Huaiting charge into the crowd, slowly drew his dagger, and with a flicker, kept pace with Yu Huaiting.
Yu Huaiting had originally intended to fight solo, but caught “Fu Songcheng” catching up from the corner of his eye. Surprise flashed in his eyes, but his movements didn’t stop—clean and crisp, he tangled with Brother Dao.
The attribute-maxed “Fu Songcheng” was right beside him, occasionally aiding Yu Huaiting, blocking Brother Dao’s retreat paths. When there was a fundamental gap in attributes, even the worst hand-to-hand combat wouldn’t perform too poorly at its floor.
Such was the current “Fu Songcheng”—fast in action, strong in force. Soon this slaughter Yu Huaiting had started became “Fu Songcheng’s” home turf.
“Pretty impressive.”
Yu Huaiting shook the blood off his blade and glanced back at him.
Quan Heng secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
As expected—as long as the attributes were high enough, as long as he could keep up with Yu Huaiting’s rhythm, he could earn his recognition.
The two moved through Avalon’s ruins as if into unoccupied territory, routing the other players utterly.
In the office outside the screen.
Fu Songcheng stood before the holographic projection, watching the “himself” in the screen slaughter everyone, his gaze growing colder and colder.
Someone imitating him—and they could even max their attributes this high—and the other’s intent was clearly aimed at that silly dog Yu Huaiting.
“Silly dog.”
Fu Songcheng couldn’t help worrying: faced with such a “Fu Songcheng,” would Yu Huaiting still recognize him? Would he still fall for him? Fu Songcheng approved of himself, so he thought it only natural that Yu Huaiting would be drawn to him.
But he’d never thought about why Yu Huaiting was with him in the first place.
If just anyone could coordinate with Yu Huaiting, could enter instances with him, even indulge him in doing things his own way—would Yu Huaiting like that person even more?
At the thought, Fu Songcheng couldn’t help cursing himself.
“I really have gone mad.”
If Yu Huaiting could really fall for someone else too, then let him get lost.
The smell of blood in the instance hadn’t dissipated; the last enemy player had fallen.
Yu Huaiting shook the blood off his blade and didn’t hurry to put away the greatsword.
He turned, his gaze passing over the wreckage on the ground, and fixed straight on “Fu Songcheng.”
“You seem like a good fighter. Let’s have a go, you and me.”
Yu Huaiting licked the corner of his mouth, his tone full of eager excitement.
Quan Heng’s heart lurched.
What was this?
When he and Fu Songcheng entered the instance before, there’d been no such scene at all!
He recalled what choice Fu Songcheng should make—Fu Songcheng was someone who hated trouble and was rational; there was no way he’d indulge him in a fight.
So “Fu Songcheng” stood in place, not even drawing his dagger, and said coldly, three words: “No need.”
That line clearly couldn’t dismiss Yu Huaiting.
He pressed on relentlessly, sneering coldly. With a flip of his wrist, the greatsword stained with countless players’ blood was hurled into midair, then slammed heavily into the ground less than half a meter from “Fu Songcheng’s” toes.
“Fight. Before we leave the instance.”
Before “Fu Songcheng” could refuse again, Yu Huaiting’s fist wind was already howling over.
The punch was extremely fast, carrying merciless force.
But at this moment, “Fu Songcheng” had high attributes. He shifted his feet and directly flashed behind Yu Huaiting.
Yu Huaiting’s strike missed. He spun at once into a horizontal sweep.
Quan Heng dodged again.
He didn’t want to hit back.
Facing his favorite game contestant, Quan Heng’s heart was all fan-filter—how could he bear to strike hard?
He could only keep dodging.
Yu Huaiting’s moves were vicious, yet “Fu Songcheng” was like a slippery wide noodle—impossible to select.
This dodge-only, no-attack attitude thoroughly enraged Yu Huaiting.
“Dawdling like that—looking down on me?!”
Yu Huaiting roared, yanked the greatsword from the ground with both hands on the hilt, and without hesitation slashed down at “Fu Songcheng’s” head.
This time, Quan Heng was genuinely afraid.
He’d watched Yu Huaiting cut people down through a screen before, the bullet comments all spamming “Hubby so handsome,” “Ah Wei’s dead.”
Back then Quan Heng had also thought Yu Huaiting was drop-dead handsome—the aesthetics of violence absolutely blood-boiling.
But now, when Yu Huaiting’s greatsword—as if able to split space itself, carrying a thick aura of death—was driving straight at his own skull, the only thought left in Quan Heng’s mind was: run.
Being the one cut—not handsome at all. Genuinely lethal.
“Fu Songcheng” turned and ran, his figure fast as an afterimage.
Yu Huaiting was thoroughly provoked into temper by this toying attitude.
“Stop! What are you running for!”
He chased after him with the sword.
A flash of white light—the instance settlement time ended, and the two were teleported out of the Avalon instance, back to the game hall.
Logically, once out of the instance, this inexplicable brawl should have ended.
But Yu Huaiting’s temper was up. The moment “Fu Songcheng” landed, before he could even make out his surroundings, the greatsword was already slashing over again.
Quan Heng had no retreat.
When the greatsword swept over again, he didn’t back away—he charged forward against the blade’s edge, precisely wedging into Yu Huaiting’s swing dead angle.
His attributes were tuned extremely high; his strength and speed formed absolute suppression over Yu Huaiting.
“Fu Songcheng” caught Yu Huaiting’s sword wrist with one hand and wrenched it hard.
Yu Huaiting grunted in pain and immediately drove his knee at the other’s abdomen.
Quan Heng had anticipated it. His other hand pressed down quickly to block the knee strike, and using the momentum, he lunged forward and slammed Yu Huaiting hard to the ground.
The entire counterattack took less than three seconds.
By the time Yu Huaiting reacted, he was completely pinned.
“Fu Songcheng” knelt on one knee between his legs, both legs locking his lower body dead; his left hand controlled Yu Huaiting’s wrists like an iron vise, pressing them above his head; his right hand was precisely clamped on his throat.
One slight exertion of “Fu Songcheng’s” right hand, and he could snap his neck.
The two looked at each other at close range.
Yu Huaiting panted violently, chest heaving, those eyes burning with unwillingness and fury.
“You can’t beat me.”
“Fu Songcheng” looked down at him from above, his tone calm, stating an irrefutable fact.
To Quan Heng, Blue Star people couldn’t beat Source Star people—that was only natural. They were playthings, birds in a cage, fish on a chopping block, amusement to be enjoyed when bored.
So when he said this, it was candid and undisguised contempt. Not aimed at Yu Huaiting, but at all Blue Star people.
Those words, landing in Yu Huaiting’s ears, stung worse than being killed.
Yu Huaiting stared dead at him for a few seconds, his chest heaving violently a few times, and finally let his strength go, giving up the struggle.
Seeing this, Quan Heng immediately released him, stood up, and stepped back.
Yu Huaiting climbed up from the ground, glared viciously at “Fu Songcheng,” and left without a word.
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