Fu Changxun asked in confusion, “What is it?”
Swift Step stiffened. “N-no, nothing.”
Seeing how even Zhao-jie seemed a little wary of the two of them now, he didn’t dare say another word.
“Don’t worry,” Dong Zi said calmly. “We just want to clear the instance. We won’t pose any threat to you.”
Swift Step opened his mouth, then closed it again without saying anything.
Being carried to victory wasn’t so bad either. If he ran into real big shots, he’d gladly cling to their thighs.
As they stepped outside, Fu Changxun said, “Let’s go back and explain everything to the others.” Since they’d already gotten the information ahead of time, there was no harm in sharing it.
Everyone had witnessed his unbelievable maneuvering firsthand. One by one, they obediently lined up behind him like little chicks, following him quietly through the darkness back to the inn.
Inside the inn, the remaining six players… No—only five remained.
Their eyes were red, filled with anger and pain. Someone was already silently crying.
“What happened?” Zhao-jie’s heart sank instantly. “Where’s the player named Xiao Li?”
The more lively girl broke down completely, bursting into tears. “Zhao-jie, w-wah… it was soldiers… a whole group with weapons. They came to search the place and insisted on taking Xiao Li away. Xiao Li refused, and they just beat him to death on the spot!”
She sobbed uncontrollably. “There was no reason for it at all—it’s not fair! This is so unfair!”
When those unreasonable soldiers burst in, the players hesitated, wary of attacking NPCs. The soldiers, however, showed no such restraint, trying to drag them away by force.
Xiao Li attempted to resist.
The result was that he was beaten to death by a gang of brutal soldiers right there and then.
Hearing this, Swift Step flared with rage and was about to rush out to avenge him, but Zhao-jie grabbed him hard. “We’ve already lost two players. Do you want to add yourself to that list?”
Swift Step was furious beyond words, yet he knew he was powerless. In the end, he slumped, defeated.
The girl was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Player Xiao Li was her friend in real life. Of course she couldn’t accept this.
“Don’t be too upset,” Fu Changxun said softly.
“This game… it’s never been fair. It exists only to entertain certain beings. We’re all just clowns performing for their amusement.”
Dong Zi nodded. “From now on, be careful. You can lose your life in this instance at any moment.”
Of the original thirteen players, only ten remained. In truth, eleven, since Xiao Xiao was doing an excellent job pretending to be a NPC—but the true veteran players already made up half the group.
That alone meant the instance was far from simple. It was likely a higher-difficulty type.
Zhao-jie didn’t argue. Instead, she deliberately reinforced the point. “That’s right. Stick together when you can. Avoid provoking NPCs. And when you have to ask questions, choose the gentler-looking ones.”
The remaining players nodded repeatedly.
Though the girl was overwhelmed with grief, she understood one thing clearly.
She had to survive.
Only by surviving could there be hope.
Outside the instance, the human viewers watching the livestream felt a deep, shared sorrow—like rabbits mourning dead foxes.
[Maybe I’ll die in an instance too, one of these days…]
[I miss my mom… I don’t want to enter the game. I just want to live an ordinary life…]
[Who doesn’t?]
[Forget it. The higher-dimensional beings are watching. The more miserable we are, the happier they get.]
[These players have to survive to the end and clear the instance!]
[What the hell?! Not all higher-dimensional beings are perverts! As one myself, I need to clear that up! You humans always misunderstand us—only those few are twisted! This game wasn’t even developed by us…]
[User involved in violations. Account has been suspended.]
[?? Higher-dimensional beings can get banned too?]
[What did he say? I didn’t see it—was it some kind of game secret?]
[Can’t say, can’t say……]
The bullet comments instantly became lively again. Inside the instance, Zhao-jie had already finished explaining the story background they currently understood to the players.
“So basically, this is a story about a scumbag man deceiving an innocent girl into helping him conquer the world—and then killing her once the job was done?” The girl had just barely pulled herself out of her grief, only to flare up with anger again. “There’s something seriously wrong with that emperor’s character, isn’t there?!”
After hearing the entire account from those directly involved, Swift Step nodded in agreement. “Definitely human trash.”
Zhao-jie nodded as well. “Even if his character is trash, he’s still the emperor. Our clues are with him.”
The girl said firmly, “Then we have to get into the palace and meet the emperor.”
“We need to come up with a way,” Fu Changxun said, propping his chin on his hand. “Disguising ourselves and sneaking in shouldn’t be too hard.”
“But how do you even get into the palace? If the guards catch us, judging by how deranged this instance is, they’d probably beat us to death on the spot—or even use the Eight Great Tortures…”
Xu Zhengyi couldn’t help rambling on and on. Xiao Xiao couldn’t stand it anymore and pinched him hard.
Xu Zhengyi: “Sss—!”
That one hurt badly enough to snap him back to his senses. He immediately realized that saying things like that was seriously bad luck.
“Ah—sorry, sorry! Good thing Xiao Xiao reminded me,” he said with an awkward laugh.
“Xiao Xiao?” Zhao-jie looked at the little girl in surprise. “She’s not an NPC? She’s a player?”
Xu Zhengyi: “Yeah……”
Fu Changxun suddenly coughed hard. “Xu-ge!”
Xu Zhengyi was still confused. Scratching his head, he asked, “What’s wrong, Doctor? They all know already anyway—there’s no harm in telling them. Xiao Xiao isn’t an NPC. She’s my biological daughter.”
Fu Changxun didn’t even have time to stop him, and could only watch helplessly as Xu Zhengyi tore off his own disguise.
Yet a faint sense of unease stirred in his gut—an inexplicable anxiety creeping in.
No one noticed the perpetually gloomy veteran player quietly curl his lips into a smile.
So the little girl isn’t an NPC.
Then she’s useless. Just a child…
“That’s great, then—we’ve got all the players accounted for,” Zhao-jie said tactfully, not asking why they’d kept it secret. She changed the subject instead. “Well, if no one minds, everyone can briefly talk about their abilities or items. Let’s all temporarily turn off our livestreams too—this way we won’t expose ourselves and affect future gameplay.”
She led by example, introducing her own ability, then took out a bottle of perfume—her item, which had a mild hallucinogenic effect.
Swift Step followed up by introducing his item: a keyboard—though it wasn’t very useful.
The remaining gloomy veteran player had an ability called “Web Weaving,” and his item was a bundle of fine cords to match.
Most of the newcomers had made some preparations before entering the game, clutching daggers and similar items. The most over-the-top was the girl—she’d brought a whole stack of talismans.
Her name was Ning Wan. A little embarrassed, she said, “My mom got these from a temple…”
With the game’s arrival, life felt like the apocalypse for many people. Burning incense and praying to the gods was at least a way to find some peace of mind.
Speaking of which…
“I’ve thought of an idea…”
Fu Changxun rose onto his toes and leaned close to Dong Zi’s ear. “What do you think—would this work if we did it like this…?”
Dong Zi was caught off guard by how close he suddenly came. He could even hear Fu Changxun’s breathing clearly, and his gaze drifted unconsciously. “Y-yeah… I think it’s pretty good.”
“You got it? Then explain it to them,” Fu Changxun said, reassured.
Dong Zi: “Oh, okay… huh?”
He hadn’t remembered any of it.
