Qi Yang and the others were in the room, and just a few minutes after they went inside the sky outside suddenly dimmed. A pitch-black night curtain was drawn across the distant skyline, looking exactly like a massive black cloth, the whole visible world growing darker by the eye.

This scene didn’t surprise Qi Yang too much. In the real world he had traveled before, reaching some high-altitude places where day and night really could change in the blink of an eye.

One moment the sun hung high in the sky; the next, it vanished and darkness swallowed the heavens.

Yi Xinming also moved to the window, standing shoulder to shoulder with Qi Yang, watching as the rolling mountains outside were instantly consumed by the pitch-black night. Although no danger had appeared so far, Yi Xinming knew that beneath this deceptively calm surface, peril had long been lurking.

“Stay here for seven days?” Kang Lian remembered what she’d heard downstairs a moment ago. She thought of the previous game—only four and a half days, and there had already been so many lethal threats. Here there were a full seven days. Kang Lian sat on a chair in the room, looking down at her palm, her fingers curled. She wasn’t as clever as Qi Yang, nor as physically fit as Yi Xinming; among the three of them she was clearly the one who would hold them back.

In the last game, because Yuan Yuan had been there, that helpless, self-abasing feeling hadn’t been so intense. Now that Yuan Yuan and Du Yong had disappeared into who-knows-which game, Kang Lian suddenly felt like the redundant one in the room; she was even a little afraid to lift her head, worried she might see the look of disdain in Qi Yang’s eyes.

The gloom clinging to Kang Lian was overwhelming. Though she said nothing, Qi Yang immediately sensed that something was wrong.

Qi Yang’s impression of Kang Lian was fairly good. Kang Lian looked fragile on the outside but actually had a strong character—people like that appealed to Qi Yang.

“No matter what happens later in this game, I think the three of us should try to stick together. But if you two have better options, I won’t stop you—it’s up to you.” Qi Yang wasn’t going to force them to team up with him.

Both of them saw things clearly: Qi Yang’s intelligence might not completely overwhelm them, but forming a team with him would certainly offer a higher chance of survival than teaming up with others.

“You say that like you’re afraid of holding us back. How could that be? I’m more worried you’ll think I’m clumsy and not want to see me.” Yi Xinming said jokingly, though in truth he’d really thought that way.

“You are a bit slow.” Qi Yang said half jokingly, half seriously.

How could Yi Xinming not understand what Qi Yang meant? Being around Qi Yang as a friend really was completely effortless.

“That’s exactly why I need to stick close to you, soak up some of your influence, see if I can get smart right away.” Yi Xinming threw an arm around Qi Yang’s shoulders and leaned in with a smile.

Kang Lian watched the two young men chatting and laughing, and felt a pang of genuine jealousy—if she were a man, she could be hugging Qi Yang’s shoulder like that too.

This person really was excellent. From the way Qi Yang looked at her, Kang Lian knew why he would say that—he had seen her sense of inferiority. She didn’t know what kind of person he might fall for; he seemed to have no flaws, too perfect, as if no one was worthy of him.

“I don’t know the others, and I don’t trust them,” Kang Lian said, expressing her stance.

Qi Yang smiled and reached out his hand. “Then let’s work together to clear this game.”

Yi Xinming turned and placed his hand on Qi Yang’s. The two looked at Kang Lian; she stepped forward and laid her hand on top of Yi Xinming’s.

“Mm, let’s clear it together.” Kang Lian thought herself truly fortunate to have met these two. Even if one day she accidentally lost her life, she was very happy to be with them.

To some extent Kang Lian was not actually afraid of death; life and death are two sides of the same coin, and who’s to say death isn’t a form of life in some way.

It grew dark, and before long it was evening. Dinner was provided by a restaurant a hundred meters away from the inn. Players entered the restaurant one after another; some weren’t hungry for the moment and stayed at the inn instead of going to eat.

Qi Yang ate three meals a day on schedule. In the past he might skip a meal if he didn’t feel like it, but things were different now: if he missed any meal, his body would show it right away—after all, he wasn’t alone, there was another life inside him.

The players sat in separate groups of three to five; there didn’t seem to be anyone alone. There weren’t many newcomers in this round of the game, and those who had joined willingly attached themselves to veteran groups—clearly they weren’t fools.

When Qi Yang and the others went in there were already quite a few people in the restaurant. They walked in and found an empty spot.

The restaurant also had NPC waiters; they served the same dishes to every table and didn’t care how many people were seated. Two people got one set of dishes at a table, and seven or eight people received the same portions.

There was one table with the largest number of people—seven in total—exactly the group that had been so arrogant that afternoon. Their expressions barely hid the fact that they felt superior to others. Next to them was a two-person table. The short, shirtless man from the seven stood up and walked over in a few strides. He reached out, picked up the dishes from the two-person table, and carried them to the neighboring table with great speed, leaving just two plates for the original pair in an instant.

“You’re fewer people, and you look so skinny; you probably can’t eat that much anyway. Don’t waste food.” The man wore an air of arrogant benevolence, as if saying, I’m doing this for your own good—so hurry up and thank me. One of the two immediately went pale; he wanted to stand and argue, but his companion beside him pressed his hand down in time.

His companion shook his head slightly. Neither in numbers nor in physique could the two of them match the seven people opposite, and those seven looked much bulkier than ordinary men—especially the shirtless one, his arm muscles bulging. This was a survival game; death lurked everywhere. There was no point in picking fights with other players—getting hurt halfway through would only jeopardize their chance to clear the level.

They had left two dishes; these people weren’t completely heartless. If there wasn’t enough food, eat more rice—just being full was enough. After clearing the level and returning to the real world they’d have plenty of money and plenty of good food.

With his companion restraining him, the lanky man sat back down.

The man who had taken their food snorted through his nose, then gave them a disdainful look as if they were cowards. The thin tall man gritted his teeth and endured once more.

The dishes on the table for the seven instantly piled up. The other players nearby saw them bullying others with their power; although some frowned at the sight and disapproved, no one stepped forward. They were all adults and knew how to weigh the pros and cons.

Qi Yang and the others naturally saw the scene too. The three of them here, Kang Lian looked a bit worried: “Do you think they’ll come and snatch our food in a bit?”

Although there are three of them, Qi Yang looks thin and frail, his skin porcelain-white; from a distance he seems like a glass beauty who might break with a touch. Kang Lian is a girl herself; only Yi Xinming here looks a bit sturdier. Kang Lian worries that if they rush over to grab their food later, should she try to stop them or not.

The people at that table paid attention to Qi Yang and the others — in fact, some of them had been watching since Qi Yang and the group came in. Especially the shirtless man that Yi Xinming recognized. The man’s eyes stared at Qi Yang without any attempt to hide it, sizing him up from head to toe. They lingered for a moment on Qi Yang’s thin, narrow waist, and a thought crossed the man’s mind: he wondered what it would feel like to pinch it, how far it might bend.

The man’s gaze was blatantly assessing. Qi Yang turned his head to look over; seeing Qi Yang looking back, the man’s mouth curved, and his crimson tongue licked across his lips as if licking Qi Yang’s face.

The only rule in this game is the rules of the game itself; the moral codes and laws of the living world here can even be said not to exist. Previously Qi Yang hadn’t seen anyone getting hurt, but Qi Yang knew that such things must exist.

Seeing the man staring at him with a look as if he wanted to rip off his clothes immediately, Qi Yang suspected some player must have fallen into that man’s hands before and now his attention had shifted to him. Qi Yang calmly withdrew his gaze. He was thinking that if the man really dared to make a move, if he shouted, would the ghost NPCs here immediately rush out to help tear the man apart? Stopping that cruel thought, Qi Yang felt no real fear in his heart anyway.

The man thought Qi Yang was scared; of the two people sitting with him, only one was worth looking at, the other woman posed no threat at all. He’d played against many people in the game, and none seemed comparable to that youth over there—probably some kind of big star. So beautiful, more alluring than a woman, with an elegant figure, a slim waist, and especially those long, straight legs—what a waste if you couldn’t hold and toy with them properly.

Pretty people should be even more compelling when they cry; the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he imagined many exhilarating scenes in his head.

The youth sitting with the shirtless man had slanted phoenix eyes that brimmed with amusement. It seemed this game would be far more interesting than the last—interesting was what he sought now. As for the shirtless man wanting to toy with others, he wouldn’t interfere. They were only temporary partners; this man was useful to him for the moment, and once he’d exhausted that use, he’d toss him away like trash.

The shirtless man didn’t know what the youth was thinking; he kept staring at Qi Yang. Suddenly his eye color changed in shock—he felt, for an instant, a cold, deathly stare coming from the restaurant entrance. The man turned and only saw someone dressed all in black walk in. The other’s face was handsome, but his presence seemed so low-key that no one would want to look twice, so the man instinctively assumed the deathly stare wasn’t coming from him.

The bare-chested man continued scanning other areas; that chill-inducing gaze suddenly vanished, and the man assumed he’d simply misperceived it.

The moment the man looked away, Fu Mingnan—who had just reactivated the body used to go into the real world, now renamed the boss Nan Sheng—flashed a streak of bloodthirsty killing intent in his eyes. Someone actually dared set their sights on Qi Yang; clearly they were truly growing impatient with life.

Nan Sheng knew the identity of every player here and what they’d done. That man was called Zhong Chong; three lives were on his hands. He had been racing through the city on purpose, killing three and injuring two, and in the end, because of his power and money, he escaped legal punishment. In the present world he could be said to be utterly arrogant and unchecked.

In this game so far, he had been virtually unrivaled, but now Zhong Chong’s life probably wouldn’t last much longer, because he had set his sights on someone he shouldn’t have.

Nan Sheng’s long legs carried him quickly; as Qi Yang and the others were about to eat, he pulled out the chair to Qi Yang’s right and sat down.

Once seated, Nan Sheng’s expression changed swiftly; his voice was gentle, a smile staining the corners of his eyes. “May I sit here?”

Qi Yang looked up. The two people at the table had been staring at him the moment Nan Sheng sat down. Qi Yang studied the man’s handsome face at close range—handsome, indeed, fitting Qi Yang’s taste perfectly—but that was before. Now Qi Yang only felt the man had degraded from human to a fly.

“Did I say you could leave?” Qi Yang was not polite at all.

Nan Sheng smiled, then shook his head: “No, it seems someone over there has ill intentions toward you. You have too few people here; one more person adds a layer of safety.”

Hearing that from Nan Sheng struck Qi Yang as amusing; he stared coldly at Nan Sheng for a few seconds.

“Thanks for the warning, but I think he’s easier to deal with.” People whose thoughts are visible at a glance wear them on their faces; unlike this man called Nan Sheng, who seemed very interested in Qi Yang. But that interest wasn’t merely superficial—he wanted more, and Qi Yang didn’t like that.

“You say that and it hurts so much. You weren’t like this back then—” Nan Sheng couldn’t finish; Qi Yang cut him off.

“You’re talking too much.” Qi Yang said coldly, looking as if he didn’t want to deal with Nan Sheng.

Nan Sheng watched Qi Yang’s pale face, his fingers twitching slightly. He forced down the urge to touch Qi Yang’s cheek. There was plenty of time ahead; this person had his child inside him and couldn’t escape his grasp.

After eating, Qi Yang didn’t stay long in the dining room. They weren’t familiar with the people here, and some were openly hostile; everyone was on guard. There weren’t many newcomers in this game, and Qi Yang had little interest in guiding them, so he turned and went back to the room with Yi Xinming and the others.

It was still early; lying down now probably wouldn’t help with sleep. Everyone was in Qi Yang’s room. Nan Sheng had been following, but Qi Yang and the others moved quickly, leaving him behind and slipping into the room, and Qi Yang even had Yi Xinming lock the door from the inside.

Nan Sheng walked up and stood outside the door, staring at it. Knowing he couldn’t be too hasty, he turned and walked away.

Yi Xinming asked Qi Yang whether he and Nan Sheng had been friends before.

Qi Yang said he had only met her once.

But the way the other man stared at Qi Yang seemed more than just a single expression; Yi Xinming pushed that thought down. That guy called Nan Sheng might look mysterious, but Yi couldn’t sense much malice from him. It was Zhong Chong — Yi felt it wasn’t just him; everyone in their group was dangerous.

“The person who just grabbed food in the dining hall is called Zhong Chong. I saw him earlier in the game — he’s not a good person, likes to bully the weak,” Yi Xinming warned.

“Also, he has no scruples about gender, especially enjoys humiliating pretty people. Qi Yang, be careful, try not to go out alone.”

Yi Xinming secretly admired Qi Yang more now; as a friend he didn’t want to see Qi Yang get into trouble.

As for the others, if Zhong Chong set his sights on them, Yi Xinming could only do so much—he couldn’t protect everyone.

“Ignore him.” Qi Yang, a man who wore his desires all over his face, wasn’t afraid. Earlier in the restaurant he had run a small test on the waiter; he had deliberately blocked the waiter so that some soup splashed onto himself. The waiter’s expression changed on the spot, as if the next moment Qi Yang would take the waiter’s life. That reaction was even stronger than in the previous game. Back then, Yi Xinming and the others at the same table had their attention on Zhong Chong, who was fighting for the food, so no one noticed what was happening between Qi Yang and the waiter.

The ghost NPC feared harming him; in a situation like this, even the most formidable human felt insignificant to Qi Yang.

Also, Qi Yang glanced at Yi Xinming beside him. Although this man wasn’t as obedient to his commands as Du Yong, Yi Xinming was still competent as a bodyguard-tool.

There was another person too. As the man walked into the restaurant, he fixed his gaze on Zhong Chong. Qi Yang was sure he hadn’t misread it — a murderous intent had appeared in the man’s eyes, as if, should he choose, Zhong Chong’s life could be ended right there in the restaurant.

In this game, having one more utility player wouldn’t bother Qi Yang; that doesn’t conflict with Qi Yang not wanting to see the other person.

After all, a tool handed over for free shouldn’t be wasted.

Every room had a television; when the clock struck eight, the screens lit up on their own.

A few lines of text appeared on the screen, detailing the travel itinerary for the seven days.

From the first day to the seventh, the itinerary entries weren’t detailed; they only listed where to go at each corresponding time, without explaining how to get there. This is a resort—if it were a real-world trip there would surely be tour guides. Qi Yang and the others arrived in the afternoon; so far only the hotel here and the restaurant have NPCs, and no guides have been seen.

📘 The complete novel is available for download in PDF via the link below.