Chapter 53 Carnivore (25) – Truce

Inside Granny Su’s compound, every player heard the system announcement and saw the newly refreshed main quest.

The original quest had required surviving until the fifth day; now they only needed to finish the Wax Rite tomorrow to clear the instance.

Losing just one day sounded like good news—no one wanted to stay in this dump a second longer.

More importantly, the new main quest clearly pointed toward the True Ending and a perfect clear, promising far richer rewards.

The moon climbed above the trees. The four remaining survivors gathered in the courtyard: Qi Si, Zhao Feng, and Zhou Yilin stood side by side, smiling at Zhang Licai.

‘Zhang Licai, you must have read the five-line poem in the tourist brochure,’ Qi Si said gently. ‘Tonight we need to pair up for rooms. How about you stay with Zhao Feng again?’

Zhang Licai forced a laugh. ‘There are six rooms—four people, one room each. As long as we don’t foolishly agree to anything, the Ghosts can’t touch us.’

He had watched Zhao Feng murder Yang Yundong in the ancestral hall. Though he hadn’t protested on the spot, he’d resolved to keep his distance.

Zhao Feng was an amoral, self-serving bastard who would shove his roommate into danger without hesitation.

As for Zhou Yilin—Zhang Licai had first thought she was an innocent girl dragged into the Eerie Game, but he knew better now.

She was an Oscar-grade schemer who’d fooled everyone right to the end. ‘Zhu Ling went crazy and jumped in herself’—who would believe that had nothing to do with you?

‘Better safe than sorry,’ Qi Si murmured, shaking his head. ‘We can clear tomorrow; no need for extra trouble tonight. After tomorrow we’ll never meet again, right?’

True—random instances made reunions astronomically unlikely.

Zhang Licai studied Qi Si. Anyone who stayed friendly with those two human-shaped monsters must be an even bigger one himself.

Yet since entering the instance Qi Si hadn’t killed anyone and didn’t look particularly strong… ‘Brother Chang, I’ll room with you, ha-ha…’ He sidled up, beaming. ‘Honestly, the moment I saw you I felt this kinship—our ancestors were probably family…’

Qi Si seemed amused; his smile widened. ‘Fine, room with me. Just one night anyway.’

Zhang Licai chuckled ingratiatingly, ‘Thanks, Brother Chang. My life’s in your hands!’

‘Ass-kisser,’ Zhao Feng sneered, then turned to Zhou Yilin. ‘Beauty, we’ll pair up. If anything happens, we can watch each other’s backs.’

After realizing Zhou Yilin’s strength and that she’d disposed of Zhu Ling, his attitude flipped one-hundred-eighty degrees.

He had underestimated her; the girl was young, capable, shared his worldview, and had eliminated his semi-rival Zhu Ling—worthy of respect.

Zhou Yilin showed no anger at his earlier contempt and no delight at his sudden courtesy.

She merely smiled faintly.’Sure. We’re on the same side; we help each other.’

It was late. Qi Si led Zhang Licai back to the wing-room in the dark.

So much had happened in a few hours that Zhang Licai felt dazed; he tripped on the threshold and nearly face-planted.

He grabbed the table and kicked the doorsill. ‘Ow, damn—this dump doesn’t even have candles!’

Qi Si lay on the bed and pulled up the quilt. ‘In the countryside, once it’s dark the day is done; no one does anything else.

Everyone goes to bed and waits for dawn, so candles aren’t kept around—saves money.’

‘Brother Chang, you know everything!’ Zhang Licai climbed onto the bed, buttering him up. ‘Unlike me, a blockhead who stumbled into this instance without a clue.’

Qi Si gave a noncommittal grunt. ‘I didn’t research it. As a kid I stayed at my uncle’s village—no lights, no food, just slept all day.’

‘What era was this, still so thrifty…’

‘They put me in an old house scheduled for demolition; a few Ghosts kept me company. No candles—probably afraid of scaring the Ghosts away.’

‘Great—field training. No wonder you’re so awesome, Brother Chang.’

Recalling that time six years ago, Qi Si smiled. ‘My uncle didn’t know the Ghosts were afraid of me. When they saw I was still alive next morning, they looked pretty shocked.’

‘Hey? That’s messed up.’

Chatting like this melted the distance between them; Zhang Licai decided Qi Si was easy-going, not as inhuman as rumored.

Then he heard a click; Qi Si had pressed some switch. A crackle of static was followed by a recording:

‘Chang Xu, tomorrow’s Wax Rite will need another offering. Let’s offer Zhang Licai—what do you say?’

It was Zhou Yilin’s voice!

‘What does this mean? Offer me tomorrow? Why is Chang Xu telling me?’

Cold sweat burst out again; his heart pounded, mind blank.

He heard a rustle like snakes or insects. Qi Si slowly sat up on the bed.

The young man perched there, eyes gleaming animal-bright in the dark as he looked down at Zhang Licai:

Tomorrow is the Wax Sacrifice; someone must die. Zhao Feng and I are close. However wrong he may be, I can’t let him die, so the offering must be chosen from between you and Zhou Yilin.

Zhou Yilin knows this, of course, so she’s been trying to persuade me to kill you. You understand—if I nod, Zhao Feng, Zhou Yilin, and I can take you down without breaking a sweat.

Zhang Licai knew Qi Si wasn’t bluffing. He was an out-of-shape, sub-healthy fatty who couldn’t win a one-on-one, let alone a one-against-three.

His breath froze, voice trembling: ‘B-Brother Chang, please don’t kill me! I still owe four million. If I die, my old mom won’t pay it off—they’ll hound her to death…’

‘What are you thinking?’ Qi Si sighed. ‘If I wanted you dead, why would I tell you any of this?’

‘Zhou Yilin belongs to Sera. I hear the Sera Guild never leaves loose ends. How could I trust a tiger to share its skin?’

He stared into Zhang Licai’s eyes, voice calm: ‘As you can see, I’m an egoist; every move is for maximum profit.’

‘Zhou Yilin’s very existence threatens that profit. I won’t let her score eclipse mine and walk away with the biggest reward. Understand?’

‘W-what do you mean?’

‘Must I spell it out?’ Qi Si lowered his voice like a verdict: ‘Once conflict starts, no one sits outside the whirlpool. To avoid being killed, you pick up the butcher’s knife first. I’m curious—how will the ever-muddling you choose?’

Zhang Licai opened his mouth but could say nothing, not just because Qi Si’s words were terrifying.

He wasn’t blind to the undercurrents among players; he’d simply played the fool, a good-natured peace-monger.

Now he had to take sides, could no longer spectate… Either he killed Zhou Yilin, or Zhou Yilin killed him—why did it have to come to bloodshed?

Couldn’t he keep laughing things off, muddling through obliviously for a nice, neutral ending?

Reading Zhang Licai’s hesitation, Qi Si smiled, drew a blade from his bracelet, and pressed it into the man’s right palm.

‘You could also try killing me. Break our two-man alliance, throw it back to a gunslinger equilibrium—they’ll both court you to kill the other… and you’ll be the final weight that tips the scale.’

Qi Si applied gentle upward pressure; Zhang Licai’s body jerked upright in shock.

Kill ‘Chang Xu’? It sounded like a neat fix. Was ‘Chang Xu’ testing him, or setting a trap?

Qi Si chuckled, guiding Zhang Licai’s right hand to his own throat: ‘One downward slice, blood sprays, and you jump from pawn to king-maker. Whoever you pick wins. Beautiful, isn’t it?’

Zhang Licai’s breath came fast; his trembling right hand nicked a red line across the young man’s pale neck.

Crimson beads soaked into the shirt, blooming pink mist beneath the thin moonlight, eerily seductive.

The black-haired youth lowered his gaze and sighed: ‘Unfortunately, I already see the riddle of this instance. If I die midway, I will…’

He left it hanging. Zhang Licai pressed: ‘What will happen?’

‘Nothing much.’ Qi Si’s lips curled maliciously: ‘If I have to die, I’ll destroy the key clue first—’

‘Then no one gets the standard clear.’

…Late at night, mournful wails drifted outside the window.

‘Ooo-ahh… thud-thud…’ Twisted shadows swayed by the grimy glass, weeping and knocking.

Qi Si twisted the recorder’s knob; A-Xi’s crisp voice rose meticulously through the night, briefly drowning the cries outside.

‘Famine year, barren year, no rice or flour to keep hunger away.’

‘Outside the ancestral hall, by the pagoda tree, a cauldron’s set to cook meat for thee.’

Filtered through the recorder, the chant blurred, mingling with the ceaseless night wind; the distortion sounded natural.

A second nursery rhyme followed in the same cadence, stark in the hush.

Sister and brother to Grandma”s tread; children”s flesh is tender, bones are crisp, Grandma”s mouth with drool is wet.

,

At night the brother hears a crunch, asks Grandma what she munches for lunch; Grandma says it”s only dried beans for brunch.

,

Next day sister”s gone away; brother searches high and low, finding only splintered bones in a corner”s glow.

By daylight the rhymes were chilling; in the dark they sounded almost festive.

Undeniably A-Xi’s voice, looping again and again.

‘Famine year, barren year…’

The side room seemed empty—only a ghost named ‘A-Xi’ sang lullabies all night, minding its own business with the Ghosts outside.

At last the dim yellow light bobbed away like a lantern; the stooped silhouettes lining the window dispersed, ebbing into deeper dark.

Hunger struck; Qi Si sat up silently, took the God Meat from the wooden table and put it in his mouth.

Perhaps it was imagination, but the God Meat no longer tasted sweet; it slid like a slug, sticky as mucus, with a faint stench of rot.

‘Disgusting.’ The word surfaced in Qi Si’s mind—the same villagers and A-Xi had used for God Meat.

He looked down at his right hand: thin translucent skin wrapped gold-red blood; under drifting black smoke his body had already begun to mutate.

—Time was running out.