Reborn, I Became a Male God - Chapter 146-150

“Ah—” A miserable scream rang out from behind.

It was Jimmy’s voice! Something had happened!

Gilva’s eyes suddenly widened. The moment he heard the sound, he instinctively wanted to turn his head toward the direction it came from, but reason told him he couldn’t. Even when going all out in a three-against-two situation, they were still struggling to cope. Getting distracted at a time like this was simply asking to die. So he had to suppress the impulse and shouted instead, “Jimmy! What happened?!”

The response was a series of incoherent groans.

Jimmy was alone over there, while the enemies were blocked on this side by them. Logically, there shouldn’t have been any issues. Could it be a third-party team had made a move? But in this kitchen area, there were clearly only the six of them, and one corpse inside. The kitchen area had only one entrance. Their two teams each occupied one side—if anyone had entered through the door, there’s no way they wouldn’t have noticed!

Damn it! What the hell is going on?

Although Gilva’s reason triumphed over impulse and made him resist turning around, he was still thinking too much and inevitably got distracted. His opponent seized the opportunity and struck diagonally with a very tricky angle. Although Gilva reacted in time to dodge, he was still a fraction too slow. Faced with two bad choices, he chose the lesser evil and sacrificed his left arm to block the knife. The sharp blade easily cut through his sleeve, pierced his flesh, and left a gruesome wound.

In the dim light, it wasn’t very visible, but Gilva knew clearly in his heart that the wound was at least a centimeter deep. The intense pain made him gasp sharply, “Tss!”

The lights in the hallway went out again, plunging them into darkness.

Captain Harrison’s voice came from the darkness, “Tim and I will cover. You go check on Jimmy!”

Gilva, gripping his dagger, tore off a strip of cloth from his clothes and hastily wrapped up the wound. Gasping, he replied, “Okay!”

When the lights came back on, the captain and Tim immediately charged forward, while Gilva quickly turned and retreated, rushing toward the second door. Although he had known from the beginning that the chances of Jimmy surviving were slim, when it actually happened, he still couldn’t suppress the grief and fury inside him.

In his line of sight was Jimmy’s corpse. He was still sitting, leaning against the wall. His head lolled weakly to one side, eyes wide open and pupils unfocused. His neck was a mess of flesh and bl00d, and the gushing bl00d had left a shocking trail on the wall.

“Jimmy!” he shouted and rushed over to embrace his teammate’s body.

“Jimmy! Jimmy!” His voice was filled with agony.

But no matter how heartbroken he was, the dead wouldn’t come back to life. In fact, given their current situation, they didn’t even have the luxury of mourning for too long. He held Jimmy’s corpse and checked his injuries. Without a doubt, the fatal wound was that terrifying gash on his neck. Judging by the length and depth, it definitely wasn’t caused by a dagger. There were two cuts, likely from two separate attacks—the first slashed the carotid artery, causing bl00d to spray on the wall. Jimmy had struggled, but it was useless. The enemy quickly followed with a second cut, slicing through his throat, which is why he could only scream once before falling silent.

Before this, Jimmy had already sustained serious injuries and was in a severely weakened state. Now, with this fatal blow, the compounded wounds led to his rapid death.

All of this pointed to one fact: besides the people they already knew were present in the kitchen area, there was someone else!

Gilva quickly scanned the surroundings, and his gaze finally landed on the door nearby. He remembered clearly that when they had chased out from inside, they hadn’t closed that door—but now, it was half-closed.

Someone was inside!

Was it someone from a third-party team? Or had they been misled from the beginning? Because from start to finish, only two enemies had appeared. After a brief encounter, they immediately fled, making them subconsciously believe there were only two enemies left. But in reality, there was another one hiding in the dark. With so many cabinets in the kitchen, perhaps that person was hiding in one of them. The reason they hadn’t come out might be because they were injured like Jimmy, or maybe for some other reason. Because they didn’t know someone else was there, they naturally let their guard down and focused only on the two visible enemies—giving the hidden one the perfect opportunity to launch a sneak attack.

Ridiculous. They were just thinking about negotiating with the enemy earlier!

Darkness fell again.

“Gilva, what’s the situation? How’s Jimmy?” The captain’s voice came from beside the door, sounding a bit strained. But that was to be expected. The three of them had already been struggling to cope—now without him, the situation would only be worse.

“Jimmy’s dead. There’s another enemy. Might be injured. They’re probably hiding inside.” He replied.

Two successive curses came from his teammates. Then the captain spoke again, his attitude unmistakable—they were giving up on negotiations and fighting to the end. Jimmy was dead, and no matter what, they had to avenge him! They couldn’t pull away now and would do their best to hold the enemy back. As for the one hiding inside, that task was left to Gilva.

“Got it!”

Bai Ningxi hid in the cabinet, his hands trembling uncontrollably. Once the cabinet door was shut, no light could come through; only pitch darkness remained inside. He couldn’t see a thing, but the sticky feeling on his hands and the strong scent of bl00d in the air made it impossible for him not to think about what had just happened.

He had studied medicine under the guidance of his elders since he was young. When filling out his college applications, with the support of his grandfather, he applied to the Clinical Medicine program at the medical university. The university had dissection classes—he had not only been in close contact with cadavers but had also performed dissections himself. He wasn’t afraid of the dead, but that didn’t mean he could kill someone without any psychological burden—especially not in such a brutal way.

When the kitchen knife in his hand struck the opponent’s neck, Bai Ningxi vaguely felt as though he could hear the sound of the blade slicing through flesh. He knew the critical areas of the human body well and was aware that the strike would sever the carotid artery, causing bl00d to gush from the wound. But knowing was useless—he couldn’t dodge, nor did he dare to—because he still had to seize the time to make a second strike, this time aiming for the throat, and then quickly retreat.

Before the game started, Xu Shaohuai had already arranged everything for him. Upon reaching the kitchen, he had emphasized it again. Bai Ningxi didn’t need to participate in the fight—he only needed to hide well and not be discovered by the enemy. In simple terms, just don’t hold them back.

Bai Ningxi was well aware of his own capabilities. Facing those desperadoes, he was just cannon fodder, so he obediently followed the plan and hid in the cabinet.

He had excellent hearing and could pick up most of the movements outside, but he couldn’t judge the situation. That was, until he heard pained groans and strained breathing from near the door—sounds a person makes when injured. He didn’t know what got into him then, but suddenly, he had the urge to go out and check. He couldn’t help Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan in direct combat, but if the opponent was seriously injured and unable to move, then he had a good chance of succeeding in a sneak attack—because they didn’t know he was inside and wouldn’t be on guard.

He quickly put his plan into action, quietly pushed open the cabinet door and slipped out, then dropped to his knees and crawled slowly toward the door. Before making a move, he had hidden behind the cabinet and observed for a long time, making sure the enemy was indeed severely wounded before approaching bit by bit. That way, even if the sneak attack failed, he could still escape.

He had done a lot of mental preparation before taking action, but when it came time to actually do it, his mind went completely blank. His eyes could only see the target’s vital points. One strike after another, the hand holding the knife was even steadier than the first time he had dissected a cadaver.

Once he was certain the opponent couldn’t survive, he quickly ran back and hid inside the cabinet. The moment he shut the door, the feeling of fear finally hit him.

The bloody kitchen knife was still tucked in his arms, and the man’s bl00d had splattered all over him—not just on his clothes, but on his face and hands too. If there were a mirror, his face right now would probably look hideous and terrifying, right?

He couldn’t help but give a bitter smile.

Suddenly, Xu Shaohuai’s voice came from outside: “River, heads up—one of them got inside!”

Bai Ningxi tensed up at those words, feeling as if his heart skipped a beat, and his throat went dry. A severely injured, immobilized mercenary and a fully mobile mercenary were two entirely different extremes. He had succeeded in ambushing the former not just because of the injury, but more importantly, because the person hadn’t been on guard. But facing the latter, he didn’t even have the confidence to run away. His only option was to hope the enemy didn’t find him too soon—and that Xu Shaohuai and the others would arrive quickly.

He held his breath, trying to catch any sound from outside. But the enemy was being extremely cautious—other than the sound of his own heartbeat, he could hear nothing.

Time dragged on in an unprecedented torment.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when the cabinet was suddenly yanked open, letting in light. A tall figure stood in front of him, looking down from above, and the dagger in his hand reflected a chilling gleam.

The worst-case scenario had occurred—the enemy found him first. In this situation, he couldn’t even run away. He was just like a lamb trapped in a pen, waiting to be slaughtered. This game was truly brutal and ironic—he had just killed someone, and now he was about to follow in that person’s footsteps.

The person in front of him said something, but Bai Ningxi didn’t understand. Still, the tone transcended language—cold and full of hatred. He could understand that much. Even people who live by the blade have things they care about. It was only natural for the man to want to rip him apart—after all, he had killed his comrade.

As he watched the man raise the knife, Bai Ningxi didn’t have much hope, but he still wanted to resist a little—at the very least, he didn’t want to die so pathetically. He gripped the handle of the kitchen knife hidden in his arms, just about to strike, when suddenly there was a loud noise nearby—footsteps—and then everything went dark again. The lights in the hallway had gone out.

Before he could make sense of what was happening, there was a dull thud beside him—something slammed into the cabinet.

“You okay?” It was Song Xiuyuan’s voice. He had pushed the enemy away at the critical moment and saved Bai Ningxi’s life! His voice was noticeably breathless, showing just how difficult the breakthrough had been—otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken so long to arrive.

“I’m fine! Thank you!” This was heartfelt gratitude, not just words, because it was a life-saving favor.

Song Xiuyuan didn’t reply, and from the sound of it, he was now fighting the enemy in the dark.

The lights soon came back on, and Bai Ningxi saw Xu Shaohuai enter. Only one enemy followed him in; the other one was either injured or already dead. Song Xiuyuan was in the middle of a fight with the man from earlier. There was a gash on his face, from the corner of his eye to his earlobe, and bl00d was oozing out.

The battle dragged on for a long time. In the end, Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan managed to kill the last two enemies, but not without cost. Both were exhausted and injured, sitting on the ground, panting heavily. Bai Ningxi knelt beside them, cleaning and bandaging their wounds.

He had just finished treating Xu Shaohuai’s wounds and was about to help Song Xiuyuan when a man’s voice suddenly came from the doorway, speaking in an international common language: “Looks like Harrison and the others lost, huh!”

Chapter 147

Xu Shaohuai’s heart sank at those words.

When the snipe and the clam fight, it’s the fisherman who benefits—the situation he feared most had still happened!

He had considered this possibility earlier. Although the intruding team’s overall strength was only second-rate, their numerical advantage was significant. Despite their initial carelessness, which allowed him and Song Xiuyuan to quickly take one person out, the pressure they faced was still great—because four enemies remained. After luring the rest into the outer kitchen and severely injuring another at the right moment, Xu Shaohuai had been waiting for the other side to speak up and propose a truce.

Because in a three-versus-two situation, no matter who wanted to claim ultimate victory, a heavy price was inevitable. Of those who made it here to participate in this series of games, very few came purely for the kill—most came either for profit or, like them, on a mission. Regardless of the goal, there was one thing in common: survival. Only by staying alive—and surviving until the end—was there a chance of achieving their aim.

Xu Shaohuai didn’t know what this group’s objective was, but he didn’t need to. As long as they had functioning brains, they’d know that fighting to the bitter end wasn’t viable. Not only because the outcome was uncertain—even if they won by sheer luck, it would be a pyrrhic victory. With two days and two nights of gameplay, and barely an hour passed, no one could predict what would happen next. But one thing was certain: the points gained from killing a few enemies here would never be enough to get a team into the top three by the final tally.

So what’s the point of risking your life? To earn points and break into the top three—or even the top two!

Knowing it was impossible, no one with sense would be willing to burn through their team’s strength so early. Not to mention, there might be others lurking in the shadows waiting to pick up the scraps. In the end, they could end up with nothing—and worse, lose their lives.

As for why he waited for the other side to speak up first instead of suggesting a truce himself?

Simple: those holding the advantage rarely show weakness on their own initiative.

Soon, the remaining three enemies started talking. Though he couldn’t understand them, Xu Shaohuai guessed they were probably discussing a truce. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the result he wanted—an unexpected event occurred.

Bai Ningxi suddenly burst out of the cabinet and decisively hacked the severely injured enemy to death.

Xu Shaohuai knew immediately that this was bad. Sure enough, in the battle that followed, the other side went berserk—as if determined to drag them all to hell. One of them even split off and rushed into the kitchen—clearly to avenge the fallen teammate and go after Bai Ningxi.

Teammates disobeying orders was already a recipe for disaster—let alone in a situation like this. Xu Shaohuai’s fury was understandable. But rage was rage—the urgent matter was rescuing him. Everything else could wait.

It took great effort to save him, and after paying a huge price to kill the remaining three enemies, Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan were utterly exhausted. They slumped against the wall, so drained they didn’t even want to speak, letting Bai Ningxi bandage their wounds. But just as he finished treating Xu Shaohuai’s injuries and Song Xiuyuan had barely started to speak—

—the scavengers arrived.

“Looks like Harrison and the others lost, huh!” said a male voice, speaking in the international common tongue.

Xu Shaohuai ignored his wounds and quickly stood up, gripping his dagger. Without needing any reminder, Song Xiuyuan also stood up at the same time, staring warily toward the doorway.

From the darkness came the sound of approaching footsteps. When the lights flickered on again, a five-man team appeared at the entrance. Leading them was a tall, muscular Black man wearing a ridiculous bunny mask. The rest had varying skin tones, but all were similarly dressed.

“River, go to the back,” Xu Shaohuai said softly, his eyes never leaving the doorway.

Bai Ningxi nodded and turned to retreat toward the rear.

“How long have you been outside?” Xu Shaohuai asked.

Actually, at times like this, saying anything is unnecessary. The wisest course of action is to strike directly, quickly and decisively achieve the goal, so as to avoid unexpected changes due to delay. However, the other party didn’t seem anxious at all—probably thinking that the two injured people and one ordinary person couldn’t stir up any trouble. Since victory was in their grasp, they weren’t in a hurry, and even seriously answered his question: “I came here with Harrison!”

In other words, they had been lurking outside from the start, waiting until a winner was decided inside before showing up to reap the benefits.

“Anyway, your goal is just points. How about we negotiate—those five people’s points, we won’t take them. We’ll even give you all the number plates. Let’s end it here, how about that?” Xu Shaohuai attempted to negotiate.

Although it was true that they had done the killing, points weren’t something that could only be acquired by the killer. For instance, in a situation like this, as long as both parties agreed, the points could be transferred. One head was worth twenty points, each number plate five points, totaling 125 points—the original maximum points possible from wiping out a small team. As someone picking up the scraps, the other team could gain them effortlessly.

The offer Xu Shaohuai gave wasn’t just fair—it could even be considered generous.

Unfortunately, the other party wasn’t satisfied. The leader laughed and said, “All of them? That sounds great. But compared to 125, I’d prefer a nice, round 200!”

The extra 75 points, of course, referred to the points from the three of them—Xu Shaohuai and his teammates—plus their number plates.

“You can have the number plates too.” Even though the offer had been rejected, Xu Shaohuai didn’t give up. This time, however, he added a threat along with the bargaining chip: “This is my bottom line. If you’re still not satisfied, then we’ll have to fight. My teammates and I are injured, but we’re not completely immobilized. If we’re going to die anyway, do you think we could take one or two of you down with us before we go?”

After Xu Shaohuai finished speaking, he waited for the other party’s response.

Sixty points versus the lives of teammates—now it was up to them to choose. Seeing the other party begin to hesitate, without giving an immediate answer, Xu Shaohuai let out a breath of relief. He had bet right. This team’s strength was mediocre—even weaker than the team earlier. Because they lacked confidence in their abilities and couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t lose members in a fight, yet were unwilling to give up the sixty points, they began to hesitate on what to do.

The hallway lights flickered several times. The other side still hadn’t made a decision.

As the team holding an absolute advantage, they didn’t need to be on guard. But Xu Shaohuai’s side did. Since the decision was in the opponent’s hands and the outcome uncertain, they had to stay highly alert to avoid being ambushed.

The voices from the opposing side were very low, but in the quiet environment, they sounded especially loud. Xu Shaohuai couldn’t understand what language they were speaking.

When the lights turned on for who-knows-how-many-times, the conversation finally stopped. It seemed the other party had made their decision. With the mask covering their face, it was impossible to read their expression. Xu Shaohuai could only prepare for the worst, ready to strike at any moment.

Suddenly, a cheerful voice came from outside the door: “Are you all gathered at the kitchen door waiting for a midnight snack?”

Someone else had arrived!

The moment the voice was heard, the other team could no longer afford to care about Xu Shaohuai’s group. They immediately turned toward the door, gripping their weapons tightly, taking defensive stances, ready to fight the newcomers at any moment.

Team leader Roxady cursed inwardly. If he had known earlier, he wouldn’t have dragged things out. If they had just taken the points and left, they wouldn’t have run into this situation.

Turns out, one should never be too greedy!

But unfortunately, there’s no medicine for regret. All he could do was think about it. After a moment of frustration, he quickly adjusted his mindset, preparing to deal with the incoming team—when suddenly, he heard screams beside him. One after another, almost simultaneously.

“Ah—”

“Ah—”

He whipped his head around and saw that two of his teammates had somehow already been stabbed. One had a blade sunk fully into their chest, with only the handle sticking out—the exact spot where the heart was! The other had been stabbed in the neck, the knife entering from the front and also buried to the hilt.

“Villains die from talking too much. The ones who drag things out are usually doomed. Haven’t you learned even that?”

Chapter 148

“Evan! Quentin!” Roxady’s eyes instantly turned red as he cried out in anguish.

He had never expected that the situation would take such a drastic turn in an instant. In just the blink of an eye, two of their teammates were severely injured, and he didn’t even know when the enemy had made their move!

The two wounded teammates let out cries of pain, their bodies instinctively retreating a few steps, as the intense pain spread from their wounds.

“Quick, support them! Retreat into the room!” Roxady shouted to the other two teammates. As he spoke, he reached out to support Evan, who was closest to him.

The game limited the use of guns and crossbows. Under normal circumstances, hostile parties could only attack after getting close. Precisely because of this, they had been careless—when they heard a noise, their first reaction wasn’t to hide but to turn around and check on the enemy. They hadn’t expected the opponent to be an expert at throwing knives. In the moment they turned, two knives had already been thrown and hit vital spots. Such skill was terrifying!

Roxady didn’t dare harbor even a sliver of wishful thinking. He ordered his teammates to retreat quickly into the kitchen. With cover, even if the opponent’s throwing knives were powerful, it would be harder for them to hit.

His strategy was correct, but unfortunately, the enemy didn’t give him the chance. Just as he shouted, another throwing knife flew through the air, stabbing into the neck of another teammate from the side. The blade pierced the flesh and severed an artery beneath the skin. Roxady watched helplessly as bl00d gushed out, splashing all over his face and body, a mist of bl00d blurring his vision.

“Ah—!” another scream of agony rang out.

Darkness descended. All the lights disappeared in an instant.

However, the calamity didn’t stop there. Moments later, the fourth scream rang out. The voice belonged to another teammate—Ackman.

If he remembered correctly, Ackman’s position should have already been inside the room. No matter how good the enemy was with throwing knives, it shouldn’t have been possible to hit him. How…? Roxady suddenly realized the truth. The enemy outside was so skilled that they had drawn all of their attention, causing them to subconsciously ignore the enemies that had already been inside the room.

It was over. Everything was over. His greed and indecisiveness had doomed the entire team.

Roxady stood frozen on the spot, a tangle of fear, pain, and guilt stabbing into his heart like a sharp knife, again and again. His mind went blank, and the eyes beneath his mask were filled with deep despair.

At that moment, he even forgot to dodge. By the time he reacted, it was already too late. Four seconds passed. The lights in the corridor came back on. The enemy that had been at the door was now beside him, the dagger pressed to his neck. The cold, sharp blade slightly broke the skin, sending a wave of pain from the wound.

From the corner of his eye, he saw his teammate Evan struggling, trying to launch a sneak attack from behind. Almost at the exact moment Evan moved, the enemy raised a leg and kicked his arm. A light cracking sound followed—it was the sound of bone breaking.

“Ah—!” Evan clutched his broken arm and lay on the ground, screaming in agony.

“Evan!” Roxady tried to take advantage of the momentary distraction to escape, but his calculation was off. Just as he shouted and before he could move, he felt a blow to his temple. The pain reached its peak in an instant, and then everything went black—he lost all consciousness.

After knocking out the last standing enemy with a single punch, Jing Ling quickly finished off the still-breathing ones. The first was the man who had tried to ambush him. It was his first time hitting a target with a throwing knife. Although it appeared to have struck the heart, due to anatomical differences and the fact that the blade hadn’t been pulled out, the man was not yet dead.

The enemy was still rolling on the ground, clutching his broken arm and wailing in pain. Jing Ling held the dagger, bent down, and stabbed him twice more in the chest. He then pulled out the previous knife. Bl00d gushed out in an instant. The man struggled a few times and then stopped moving.

He proceeded to finish off the second and third targets. One didn’t need finishing—he had been dealt with by Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan. One had sliced the carotid artery, and the other had stabbed repeatedly from behind with all his strength. Once they confirmed the person was dead, both men seemed to lose all their strength in an instant. Thankfully, they caught themselves on the wall before collapsing.

When everything was over, Jing Ling turned his head to look at Yang Xinyao, who stood nearby, and said to her, “Come over. Head inside first. The captain and the others are probably seriously hurt. River might not be able to handle it all on his own. See if you can lend a hand. I’ll handle the corpses.”

“Alright,” Yang Xinyao replied and walked over from the other side.

Jing Ling no longer paid attention to them and focused on the bodies. After thinking for a moment, he settled on a method of disposal. He cleaned the dagger in his hand, put it away, then bent down and began dragging the corpses. Starting with the one at his feet, he grabbed a hand and effortlessly dragged it away. After a few steps, he reached the second corpse—one killed by Xu Shaohuai and the others. He grabbed another hand and dragged both, one in each hand, toward the doorway.

The corridor lights flickered rhythmically, but this time, he didn’t have to worry like before. He wasn’t fighting anyone now—just dragging corpses. The doorway was a large target. As long as he remembered the general direction, walking over wasn’t a problem.

He stopped just outside the doorway and dropped the two bodies side by side. Then he returned to the kitchen for a second round. Two teams, ten corpses. Two per trip, five trips in total. When he dropped the last two, the doorway was lined with a long row of bodies—tall and short, of varying builds. Their expressions were hidden behind masks, but an eerie atmosphere still lingered. Bl00d had spread everywhere. The air was thick with the stench of bl00d, and the twisted, overlapping bloodstains on the ground made the place look like a scene from a hellish battlefield—terrifying and grotesque.

And this was exactly the effect Jing Ling wanted. Of course, he wasn’t some kind of psycho. The goal was to intimidate the opportunistic scavengers—show them the consequences of trying to take advantage and losing their lives in the process.

Naturally, this kind of deterrence wouldn’t stop truly powerful teams. But Jing Ling wasn’t targeting them. He was aiming at the average ones. Though they posed little threat individually, wave after wave would become annoying and waste his energy.

He gave the scene one last look under the lights, then turned back into the kitchen.

Bai Ningxi was treating Xu Shaohuai’s wounds. Because of his earlier actions, the previously bandaged injuries had reopened. Bai Ningxi had no choice but to remove the old bandages, clean the wounds again, apply medicine, and rewrap them.

During the game, the organizers didn’t provide any medical assistance, but they didn’t prohibit teams from bringing their own medicine. As a medical professional, Bai Ningxi naturally came prepared—not just with medicine, but also with bandages and gauze. To carry all this, he had specially chosen clothes with many pockets.

Chapter 149

Jing Ling had just stepped inside when the lights in the corridor went out again.

At first, he thought this situation wouldn’t last long, but now nearly an hour had passed and it still hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t help feeling speechless, wondering when the person behind all this would finally get tired of playing.

The others, unlike him, couldn’t see in the dark. Once the only light source disappeared, all they could do was wait for it to come back on. Fortunately, Xu Shaohuai, Song Xiuyuan, and Yang Xinyao had nothing much to do, so they weren’t really affected. Only Bai Ningxi found it inconvenient—tending to wounds required precision, and doing it in the dark was out of the question. This kind of flickering and intermittent lighting also had a serious impact on people’s mood.

But Jing Ling figured Bai Ningxi probably didn’t have the mind to think about much else right now. When he came in, he noticed hia condition. Logically, someone hiding in the back under protection shouldn’t have bl00d all over their face and body. Yet, while dragging the corpse earlier, he noticed the person sitting by the wall inside the room had two wounds on their neck. Those definitely weren’t inflicted in a frontal fight—they were clearly from a sneak attack. Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan had been watched the entire time, making it impossible for either of them to pull that off. Which meant the only possibility left was that Bai Ningxi had made the move.

Someone like Bai Ningxi, who studied medicine, had not only seen corpses but had dissected them himself, so he definitely wasn’t afraid of dead bodies. But killing a living person with his own hands was a completely different experience. Whether it was before or after the act, psychologically it was very hard to get past. If the situation weren’t so urgent right now, leaving no room for overthinking, it could have been a serious issue for him.

While Jing Ling was lost in these thoughts, Xu Shaohuai’s voice suddenly came from the darkness.
“How come you two are here?”

According to the plan made before the game started, Jing Ling and Yang Xinyao were supposed to be in the cinema right now. The cinema and the kitchen were not only separated by numerous rooms, but they also weren’t on the same hallway. The game had just begun, and with the corridor lights acting up like this, no matter how you looked at it, there was no reason for them to cross such a distance to come here.

Yet they came anyway—and just in time, saving the three people here at the critical moment. It gave off the impression that they had known in advance something would happen and had come specifically to help.

But it wasn’t impossible, considering Yang Xinyao was there. The Yang family’s divination skills weren’t just for show. That was exactly why he had agreed to bring her along on this mission in the first place.

“Was it Starlight?” Xu Shaohuai added before Jing Ling could answer. His words were vague—he didn’t ask directly, but he trusted Jing Ling would understand what he meant.

After a pause, Jing Ling replied, “Same as over here, we also ran into people. But I killed them all—basically one slash per person. In the end, something unexpected happened—the person watching from behind the scenes stepped in and suddenly turned on the lights. I couldn’t keep attacking from range anymore and had to fight head-on. It took a bit of effort, but I got it done. After that, the lights there stayed on, which wasn’t great for me, so I had to switch locations. Starlight happened to say she was a little hungry, and since you guys were over here by the kitchen, we just came.”

The way Jing Ling put it, it really sounded like it was just a coincidence. Although “being hungry” was a somewhat flimsy excuse, it wasn’t entirely impossible when it came to Yang Xinyao. After all, she herself was an anomaly in this place—a delicate, frail ordinary girl. Anyone else in the game could easily kill her. And yet, she came. So during the game, it would make sense for her to feel hungry—after all, she was still just an ordinary human.

Xu Shaohuai even remembered that due to nerves, Yang Xinyao had barely eaten since they boarded the ship. Jing Ling’s excuse was practically flawless—it made logical sense and had direct evidence to back it up.

If he didn’t know Yang Xinyao’s true nature, Xu Shaohuai might’ve believed it. And in fact, just as he suspected, Jing Ling had made it up—but not out of thin air. It was a reasonable explanation grounded in reality.

After eliminating Isaac’s team, because the lights in the hallway stayed on, Jing Ling had planned to switch locations with Yang Xinyao. His idea at the time was just to find a nearby room with a bed where she could get a good sleep—he hadn’t even considered heading this way. But as soon as they stepped out and walked a short distance, still searching for a suitable room, Yang Xinyao lightly tugged at his sleeve twice.

It was a prearranged signal—one tug meant something happened, two tugs meant the situation was serious.

Divination is a mysterious thing—not within the bounds of science. And because truly skilled people in the art are rare, there are many con artists who pretend to know it, which makes a lot of people skeptical. Although Jing Ling had never accepted a mission related to that field before, he had encountered similar things and knew a bit. When Yang Xinyao first told him he would meet someone destined for him, he thought it was absurd—not because he didn’t believe in fortune-telling, but because of his bizarre fate. He was someone who existed outside the rules of the world. Even in a fantasy world, no one had ever successfully read his fate—let alone Yang Xinyao.

Yet she had actually managed to do it.

One of the main reasons they dared to split up for this game was precisely because of Yang Xinyao. She had placed a mark on Xu Shaohuai and the others—if an emergency occurred, she would sense it immediately.

Once Xu Shaohuai figured out the key point, he stopped dwelling on the issue. The light continued to flash on and off in a regular pattern. Bai Ningxi quickly finished tending to his wounds. After applying the medicine, he bandaged them. The process inevitably disturbed the wounds, making him break out in a cold sweat from the pain—but he endured the whole thing without making a sound.

“All done.” After wrapping the final wound, Bai Ningxi finally breathed a sigh of relief. He casually sat down nearby, leaning against the cold cabinet, staring blankly ahead. His eyes were unfocused—clearly lost in thought.

No one else spoke either. In the silence, they could hear each other’s breathing clearly.

After a long pause, Xu Shaohuai suddenly said, “River…” He had just called out a name, when Bai Ningxi immediately responded,
“Sorry! It won’t happen again!”

He thought Xu Shaohuai was about to bring up the matter of him acting on his own and coming out of the cabinet to kill that wounded man—which was indeed his fault.

He had everything arranged at the start. He and Yang Xinyao just had to stay in a safe place, and the others would protect them. He had hidden well inside the cabinet, and Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan had successfully lured the enemy away. The enemy didn’t even know he was there. But then, he suddenly acted impulsively and charged out. At the time, he thought killing that person was helping—but looking back now with a clearer mind, he realized he had only made things worse.

The enemy was already so badly wounded they could barely move—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to land two strikes that easily. Under those circumstances, even if he hadn’t intervened, the enemy wouldn’t have been able to keep fighting. They posed no real threat to Xu Shaohuai and the others. But he went ahead and killed someone who wasn’t a threat, exposing himself in the process and provoking the enemy. If Song Xiuyuan hadn’t arrived in time, he probably would’ve died under the enemy’s blade.

Xu Shaohuai wasn’t surprised at Bai Ningxi’s immediate apology. But he wasn’t sure how deeply Bai Ningxi understood his mistake—was it just a surface-level recognition, or had he realized the more strategic consequence: that killing the enemy ruined their chances of forcing a truce and avoiding letting a third party benefit? So Xu Shaohuai decided to clearly explain the entire situation and point out exactly where Bai Ningxi had gone wrong.

After he finished speaking, Bai Ningxi apologized once more, and the matter was brushed aside.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, the game had already been going on for an hour. Jing Ling’s earlier speculation about the lights finally proved true—the horror segment came to a temporary end, the power was restored, and not only the hallway lights but also the lights inside the rooms came on and stopped flickering.

Having stayed in a dark environment for so long, even though the hallway light could shine in, it had still been quite dim. Xu Shaohuai and the others had already gotten used to the darkness, so the sudden exposure to bright and glaring light made them instinctively shut their eyes to adjust. When they reopened their eyes, they saw Jing Ling already standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open, reaching inside and rummaging around.

“What are you doing?” Xu Shaohuai couldn’t figure it out and simply asked directly.

Without turning his head, Jing Ling replied, “Didn’t I say earlier that we came over here because Starlight was hungry? The flickering lights made it inconvenient just now, but now that everything’s back to normal, of course I’m going to find something to make for a late-night snack. It’s already really late—eating first and then resting sounds perfect.”

Xu Shaohuai: “……” He had thought that was just an excuse, something casually made up, and didn’t expect Jing Ling to be so dedicated—actually going all in.

Yang Xinyao: “……” Was it really necessary to keep emphasizing that she was hungry? It made it seem like eating was all she cared about! Oh wait, and dragging people down! Nothing to be proud of at all.

On the other hand, Song Xiuyuan, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them upon hearing this and looked over. “Make one for me too, thanks!” Martial artists tend to eat a lot due to their fast metabolism, and fighting consumes a great deal of energy. He wouldn’t have thought of it otherwise, but once Jing Ling brought it up, he realized he was starting to feel a little hungry too. After saying that, he hesitated, suddenly unsure, and asked, “You… know how to cook?”

Although those mooching a meal don’t have the right to be picky, and his standards weren’t particularly high, in the realm of culinary skills, there are always a few people whose “talent” defies imagination—in the worst way possible. And he had just such a person in his family, someone who’d left him with trauma.

Bai Ningxi had originally wanted to say, “Make one for me too,” but upon hearing Song Xiuyuan’s question, he decided to stay quiet and observe for now.

“Very well. I’ll absolutely exceed your expectations,” Jing Ling replied without missing a beat.

That was clearly a confident answer, but Song Xiuyuan felt even more uneasy. Because that kind of response didn’t match the typical modesty of most people—instead of saying something like “not bad” or “pretty decent,” he just outright praised himself. Usually, that meant trouble.

And not just him—Bai Ningxi was thinking the same thing.

The two exchanged a glance, as if reaching some unspoken agreement, and almost simultaneously turned to look in one direction—toward where Yang Xinyao was sitting.

“What do you two mean by that?!” Yang Xinyao had been sulking just a moment ago, but the sudden intense gaze from two directions startled her. Thinking back to the previous conversation, she quickly figured out what Song Xiuyuan and Bai Ningxi were implying, and instantly protested, “Why are you looking at me?! What about me says I can cook?!” That was 100% the truth. She was great at eating, but cooking? She had no talent for it whatsoever.

Hope dashed, Song Xiuyuan and Bai Ningxi looked at each other again, both eyes filled with helplessness.

Then Jing Ling spoke up, “Seriously, do you guys have to be like this? It’s just a late-night snack, not like I’m trying to poison you.” As he said that, he finally finished selecting ingredients—not just one or two items, but a whole pile, filling both his hands. The sheer variety made it look more like he was preparing a feast rather than a simple snack.

Unfortunately, instead of feeling reassured, Song Xiuyuan and the others felt even more nervous. After all, they were still in a brutal game scenario—getting a hot meal was already a luxury, and a full-course meal sounded almost unimaginable.

But nervous or not, they decided to give it a try.

“Alright, I’ll trust you this once,” said Song Xiuyuan—though even he didn’t quite believe himself.

Bai Ningxi added, “Make one for me too, thanks!”

The game organizers clearly weren’t short on money—handing out tens of millions in prize money without batting an eye—so the ingredients on the cruise ship were all top-tier. Everything Jing Ling took out just needed to be cooked; no washing was necessary. He carefully arranged the ingredients, then selected a handy knife from a pile of kitchen tools. After washing his hands, he immediately began prepping the ingredients.

“Anyone else want to sign up?” he asked casually while working. “Captain? Starlight?”

Yang Xinyao was indeed feeling a little hungry. She hadn’t eaten properly earlier due to nerves, and during the first game’s livestream, she’d been so scared that she ran to the bathroom and threw up. She was a bit picky about food—even though she knew full well that in a situation like this, having anything to eat was a blessing and there was no room to be choosy. But knowing was one thing; emotionally, she still doubted Jing Ling’s cooking skills. Just as she was hesitating, she saw him begin prepping the food—and his movements actually looked quite professional.

She was just about to speak up and place her order when she froze in shock before she could even get the words out.

Chapter 150

Jing Ling was extremely skilled with throwing knives—something Yang Xinyao had just witnessed. A one hundred percent hit rate, every strike hitting its mark, and always on the vital points. From the movie theater to here, he had made six throws in total, not a single miss. After taking down opponents, besides collecting the number tag representing their points, he would also take their weapons. After all, each player was only given one knife at the start of the game. Since most people held onto theirs the entire time, there was never a shortage. But for Jing Ling, who used his as a throwing knife, once thrown, it wouldn’t return on its own, and it wasn’t always easy to retrieve during close combat. So, he had to carry several spares.

But the problem was—Jing Ling carried way too many… He had scavenged five from the movie theater, and with the knives from the two teams here, the total came to fifteen. And he actually collected every single one. Oh right, there was also her knife… Although he didn’t carry all of them on his person, Yang Xinyao estimated that the number he had on hand was no less than half the total. He was practically a walking weapon rack, and you couldn’t tell just by looking at him—who knew where he was hiding them all!

Yang Xinyao didn’t have much experience in this area, and of all the people she had ever met, Jing Ling was undoubtedly the strongest—no contest. From her perspective, this already went beyond the bounds of normal human capability. But no matter how powerful Jing Ling was in combat, it had nothing to do with cooking. In fact, he was so good at fighting that it was hard to associate him with a kitchen at all. A person who could stride through both the hall and the kitchen, wear underwear outside his pants, or throw on a strange mask and go punish evil and champion good to save the world—those only existed in movies.

On top of that, Jing Ling’s tone when he answered had been so confident that Yang Xinyao thought he was joking. With that mindset, she casually glanced over, still wondering if he’d look weird when cutting vegetables. Even though both involved knives, killing and chopping vegetables were complete opposites.

But the result completely exceeded her expectations—so much so that she was left dumbfounded.

As a food lover with a very affluent family background, Yang Xinyao could only sneak out for a few days during holidays to reward her stomach back in middle and high school due to a heavy workload. But ever since entering university, the phrase “The sky is high and birds can fly, the sea is wide and fish can leap” was no exaggeration. Let alone winter and summer vacations, even weekends could be spent flying far away, and whenever there were no classes, she could drive around the surrounding areas. Throughout the year, she was rarely seen—either enjoying food or on the way to find it.

Once someone begins to truly understand the subject of food, they’ll naturally start to pay attention to more than just the final dish. For example, the source of the ingredients, how they’re handled, cooking methods, and so on. She had seen many chefs work from handling raw ingredients to finishing the final dish—their fluid, seamless movements were incredibly pleasing to the eye, practically a visual feast.

And now, she saw similar movements in Jing Ling—even more refined than most people in her memory.

A person with mastery over throwing knives was just as precise with a kitchen knife. His movements flowed smoothly from start to finish, without a single pause, executed in one continuous motion. Coupled with his long, elegant hands, it was almost impossible to look away.

It wasn’t just Yang Xinyao—others had noticed too. Their expressions bordered on horror. Even after Jing Ling had processed the entire pile of ingredients and the truth was laid out before them, they still found it hard to accept.

“You really can cook!” Yang Xinyao finally blurted after holding it in for so long. Her tone was a mix of disbelief and awe. Suddenly, phrases she’d read in novels popped into her head—like “when the Way is mastered, all techniques become one.” Maybe describing killing as “chopping vegetables” wasn’t just an exaggeration. Maybe there really was a connection between the two—and Jing Ling was the living proof of it.

“It’s not that I can—it’s that I’m very good,” Jing Ling corrected, while continuing to handle the last ingredient in his hands: a premium cut of beef. However, before he even used the knife, just by holding it, he felt something was off. There seemed to be something inside. He extended two fingers and traced the outline—hard material, rectangular shape, ultra-thin.

A sudden idea popped into his mind.

The others didn’t know what was happening. When they saw him suddenly make that strange move, they were confused and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jing Ling didn’t answer directly. Instead, he said, “Hold on.” As he spoke, he picked up the knife and, following the outline he had just traced, made a few precise cuts. A few slices later, he held in his hand a rectangular block of meat with a neat cut—about the size of a compact smartphone.

“Come on, place your bets. Guess what this is.” He suddenly said this out of nowhere, deliberately keeping it vague without revealing what was inside—only letting them judge based on the shape. The outcome was predictable—there was no way anyone could guess correctly. Yang Xinyao and the others thought he was just bored and tossing out a random topic, so their answers were all complete nonsense.

“Meat. Oh wait, meat chunks. More precisely, rectangular chunks of meat, type: beef. How about it, did I guess right? Is there a reward? What is it?”

“Future steak?”

“Or are you not satisfied with ordinary cooking and planning to venture into the field of art? But your cuts are too neat. Artistically speaking, that’s too mechanical. Isn’t art more about natural or rebellious beauty?”

This kind of relaxed and lively scene—if not for the conspicuous injuries on Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan—made it really hard to believe that just not long ago, they were still struggling on the verge of death. There was still a row of corpses lying at the door. Only because the kitchen wasn’t a battlefield, it remained clean and tidy. Once the door was shut, the bloody stench from outside was mostly isolated. And although they’d managed to keep their lives, they were still trapped in hell, not knowing when the vengeful ghosts would come for them.

But their situation could also be called a brush with death. Even though nothing had been settled yet, a bit of celebration and relaxation wasn’t unreasonable.

“All wrong.” Jing Ling’s two words dismissed all their guesses. Then they saw him put down what he was holding, and use both hands to pinch either end of the beef chunk, applying force as if to tear it in half.

Although it wasn’t the right time, Yang Xinyao couldn’t help but complain, “So you’re going to perform hand-torn beef for us?! But even then, you’re supposed to tear it into strips. Trying to tear it straight down the middle into two slices—isn’t that a bit much?!”

No sooner had she finished speaking than the beef in Jing Ling’s hands actually split right down the middle. And it looked shockingly clean—no worse than a knife cut.

You’re kidding me! Yang Xinyao instinctively wanted to keep complaining. But before she could speak again, she saw something miraculous. As the tear widened, an object appeared inside the beef. It looked like… a piece of glass? The meat quickly tore open completely, the edge as neat as if sliced with a fine blade—so consistent in size and thickness that it was hard to see any difference with the naked eye. As for the object hidden inside, it dropped out the moment the meat split. Jing Ling reacted swiftly and caught it.

“What the hell is that?!” Yang Xinyao was astonished. She flipped over and got up from the ground, walked over to Jing Ling, and leaned in to examine the item in his hand. It really was glass—light and thin, though not the pure, colorless kind. Its hue was slightly murky, and it was wrapped in a layer of plastic film. On closer inspection, there seemed to be a switch-like button on the side…

Yang Xinyao froze for a second, then suddenly remembered something. Before the game began, Xu Shaohuai had mentioned the story of a lucky dog whose ancestral grave was emitting green smoke… Her eyes widened instantly. She looked at Jing Ling, then at the object in his hand, filled with disbelief.

“A sens—” She almost instinctively started saying the name of that glass shard, but only got the first syllable out before she was stopped. A slender finger touched her lips. Because it had just touched chilled food from the fridge, the fingertip was slightly cold, and a faint fishy smell rose to her nose.

“It’s enough that you know,” the owner of the finger said softly.

In that moment, Yang Xinyao felt as if fireworks exploded by her ear. Her mind went completely blank, and all her senses focused on her lips. The touch of that finger was clearly cold, yet she had the illusion that it was scalding hot—its warmth spreading through her body from the point of contact. After a moment of stiffness, she quickly stepped back, ending the contact. Though unseen, she could feel her face flushing, yet she still tried to put on a disgusted expression and tone, saying, “You just finished tearing up beef with your bare hands and didn’t even wash them, okay!”

Jing Ling chuckled, “That’s why I didn’t dare cover your mouth directly. I was afraid you’d pick up the knife next to you and hack me with it.”

Yang Xinyao’s gaze darted around, purposely avoiding him, grumbling, “With my negative combat power, I probably wouldn’t even touch the knife before you’d chopped me into bits!”

While the two were messing around, the others had caught on as well. But with injuries, Xu Shaohuai and Song Xiuyuan remained seated. Only Bai Ningxi came over.

Jing Ling placed the object down for the two of them to study. He went to wash his hands and came back. The plastic film wrapped around the sensor had already been removed. Yang Xinyao was pressing the only button on the side. Almost as soon as he did, the previously murky glass suddenly lit up. However, there were no labels or markings—it seemed to still be booting. After two seconds, a few light dots and a larger light mass appeared in the center of the screen. The positions and distances, when converted, corresponded exactly to their group. The dots represented the ID tags worn by Xu Shaohuai and the others, while the larger mass was the combined signal—since the ID tags of the three dead teammates were all being kept by Jing Ling.

“Let me see!” Xu Shaohuai said, his voice slightly urgent.

Hearing this, Jing Ling walked over with the sensor, leaned down slightly, and handed it to him. Song Xiuyuan also leaned in to look, his expression a bit curious.

Xu Shaohuai took the sensor, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge. Although he’d already guessed it was a sensor earlier, now that it was confirmed and showing the locations of ID tags, he still found it hard to believe.

After all, this was a sensor. Though everyone knew it existed, no one ever had any hopes for it—because in the entire history of this killing game, the sensor had only appeared once. And even then, that one time was such a mess. This was a brutal and bloody game of slaughter, not a puzzle-solving intelligence challenge. Over two days and nights, almost every team had to stay on high alert—guarding against sudden attacks while trying to snatch points from others. There was simply no time or environment to go hunt down such a rare, one-of-a-kind item.

This was only the second time a sensor had surfaced, and again in such a bizarre way. It had been wrapped in plastic film and stuffed inside a raw beef chunk—carefully processed so no issues could be spotted at a glance. Then it was hidden in a fridge. Judging by the order Jing Ling retrieved it, it was likely at the very back, mixed in with other ingredients. Who would’ve thought?! Who else would use “we’re hungry” as an excuse to cover up Yang Xinyao’s fortune-telling, and then actually go along with the excuse? Under such deadly circumstances, even if you ate, you’d just grab anything to fill your stomach. Who else but Jing Ling would patiently pick things out, prep everything, and actually plan to cook a full meal…

So many coincidences strung together had already reduced the odds to near-zero.

Yet Jing Ling still found it! Not because he was deliberately searching, but purely by chance—and he just happened to uncover it! No matter how small the odds, when it came to Jing Ling, they seemed to be forcibly pulled up to a hundred percent. It was like he had a cheat code, completely unbelievable!

And this person… was in his team!

There could be nothing better than this!

Xu Shaohuai had never been the type to easily show his emotions, yet at this moment, he couldn’t hide the excitement in his eyes. He rubbed the sensor in his hand while beginning to analyze the situation. “Just now, the two squads that were killed—ten heads, that’s two hundred points. Add the number tags, and it totals two hundred fifty. You and Starlight also took down a squad at the movie theater. One number tag was missing, so that’s one hundred twenty points. Add all that together, and then count our team’s original points—we now have a total of four hundred forty-five. No doubt about it, we’re currently ranked first, and we’ve left the other teams far behind.”

“Based on past experience, most teams are cautious at the beginning of the game. During the first day and night, there’s usually not much fluctuation in the rankings. The real showdown always comes at the end. What’s happening with us now is an exception. Originally, my plan was: since we have such a lead and both Knife and I are injured, we wouldn’t do anything for the time being—just keep an eye on the progress of the other teams, rest up, and prepare for the final battle.”

But now that they had the sensor, the plan needed to be revised. They would need to design a new one centered around it. If luck was on their side, they might even be able to avoid the final free-for-all altogether.

Because in games like this, where the time limit is relatively long, the real climax is always on the last day—or rather, more accurately, the final night. That’s because after half the game time has passed, the organizers will begin announcing the participating teams’ scores and rankings, and then update them every two hours. As the game enters the final countdown, in the last three hours, the updates occur every thirty minutes.

Teams would determine their own scores and rankings, then calculate how much they were behind the top three. After identifying which teams to target, they would act. Since their opponents were living people, not livestock standing still waiting to be slaughtered, they had to find them, hide in the shadows, and wait for the best moment to strike—trying to gain the most points at the lowest cost.

In this process of hunting, your role was both the hunter and the prey. Because while you were selecting a target, someone else might also be targeting you. Even the most formidable mercenary squad, widely considered the strongest, had countless eyes watching them in secret, waiting for the chance to tear them apart.

Point calculation began ten minutes after a battle ended. If a third-party team arrived during that time, the settlement would be extended. During this period, points could still be transferred. But once the ten minutes passed and the points were locked to a team, they could no longer be transferred. Even if the scoring team was wiped out, the only points obtainable would be for individual kills and the tags taken.

The points and rankings released by the organizers did not include number tags.

Every rule of this game existed to encourage killing. Because you could never be certain how many tags your enemy held, or whether those hidden points would pose a threat to your ranking. In such circumstances, the only solution was to secure as many points as possible to guard against any surprises—and in this game, the highest value came from heads.

But the higher the score, the greater the danger the team faced. Since the total score pool was limited, if you pulled too far ahead and left the others unable to catch up, they would choose another path—kill you. In that situation, rival teams might come to a temporary consensus, form a temporary alliance, and unite against a single target.

In the final phase of the game, chaos would reign. Anything could happen.

Rodney had already adapted to the dark, so now that the lights suddenly came on, it actually made him a little uncomfortable. His teammates felt the same. The game had just begun, and it was night—they never expected to have to fight at this time. Finding a relatively safe place to get some sleep and restore their energy was the most important thing.

But to say they could fall asleep completely unguarded in such a perilous environment—that was impossible. People like them had defense built into their instincts. Even in an absolutely safe environment, they would always remain alert to their surroundings.

The place they chose to settle down in was a guest room—nothing fancy, but not shabby either. Once inside, they first familiarized themselves with the room’s layout, then used objects in the room to set up two alarm devices, so they’d be alerted immediately if anyone tried to sneak in.

Luckily for them, their luck wasn’t bad. Since the game began, two squads had passed by their door, but neither entered—seemed like they headed toward the kitchen instead. The noise from that direction later confirmed their guess.

In this game, the temptation to pick up leftovers was something no team could resist, as it was the easiest way to earn high points with minimal risk. Rodney’s team was no exception. When those two squads went over, they’d kept an eye on the situation. Judging by experience, it should’ve lasted longer, but the sounds diminished much earlier than expected—almost half the time they had anticipated—and finally disappeared completely.

To be safe, Rodney waited a bit longer, but nothing changed. So he returned to the room and briefed his teammates on the situation, waiting for the captain to decide. The final decision was to go take a look—best-case scenario, they’d gain something; if not, they’d retreat.

The darkness and flickering lights were the perfect cover for them. However, the brief delay caused by their discussion meant that, without warning, all the previously extinguished lights came back on. They hadn’t expected that. Though not ideal, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing either. Once they adjusted, the team set off toward the kitchen as planned.

On the way there, one team member, Habakkuk, suddenly twitched his nose. Rodney noticed and whispered, “What is it?”

The other replied, “From that direction, there’s a strong scent of bl00d—and… the smell of food?” Even Habakkuk himself wasn’t quite sure about the second part.

Rodney’s first reaction was disbelief. Not about the bl00d scent—Habakkuk had a keen nose, and since there had just been a fight, that made sense. But the smell of food? That was ridiculous! Sure, that direction was the kitchen, but this was game time, not a break. No chef would be over there cooking delicious meals!

Soon, the team arrived near the kitchen. Just around the corner, they’d be able to see it. As the scout, Rodney pressed his back against the wall, listening carefully. He could vaguely hear voices but couldn’t make out what was being said—it was a language he didn’t understand. He crouched down, leaned against the wall, and cautiously peeked around the corner to observe.

With just one glance, he was stunned.

At the kitchen entrance, a chaotic row of corpses had been laid out. Bl00d had spread everywhere, glowing dark and ominous under the lights. The smears on the floor were the trails left from dragging the bodies.

Rodney quickly counted—ten corpses in total. That meant the team now in the kitchen had wiped out two full squads in such a short amount of time!

What kind of terrifying strength was that?!

Staring at the bodies of those two squads, Rodney suddenly had second thoughts.