Chapter 318 – Colosseum (26): “Don’t Die—Survive”

In the Colosseum where Chang Xu was located, the third day arrived.

The players all rose early, pushed open the stone doors of their rooms, and gathered on the high platform of the Colosseum.

Apart from Chu Xun, Green, Dong Xiwen, and Lena Ann—who still looked fairly radiant thanks to ample food—the rest of the players appeared utterly disheveled.

Chang Xu, Liu Yuhan, Qin Mu, and Nian Fu were coated with large patches of lime; their necks, arms, and ankles were webbed with petrified traces, their skin hard and cold like marble.

Scarcity of food stirred up hunger, driving the players one step closer to becoming statues; the curse treated every living thing in the Colosseum equally.

They knew their own condition: only two bouts of hunger were needed to turn someone entirely to stone under the curse.

They had already endured one; one more meant certain death.

“Two people are missing.” Liu Yuhan lifted her eyelids, scanned the crowd, and said, “Fan Zhanwei and Lin Ye aren’t here.”

Dong Xiwen scratched his head. “Something must’ve happened. No rat-men popped out last night—how could they run into danger that bad?”

“Let’s take a look.” Nian Fu shrugged indifferently, tone mocking. “Those two were pretty frail; maybe they starved to death.”

The Colosseum Game hadn’t started yet, and the animals hadn’t arrived, so the players drifted toward Fan Zhanwei and Lin Ye’s room.

The stone door was shut tight. Green hooked his fingers into the seam and pulled; once a gap opened, he wedged a shoulder in, levered with his elbow, and widened the slit enough for a person to slip through.

The players filed in—and the first thing they saw was Lin Ye’s corpse slumped beside a straw pallet.

Half his body had already turned to stone. A bullet hole pierced his temple, its rim crusted with brown-black blood, yellow-white brain matter oozing out.

His eyes stared wide in disbelief; he clearly hadn’t foreseen his own death, and lingering resentment in his gaze revealed his unwillingness.

Chu Xun crouched, touched the wound with an index finger, and concluded, “Gunshot. A player killed him.”

Before the players entered, the stone door had been sealed from outside; had any intruder broken in earlier, they would have left traces.

The only one who could have murdered Lin Ye was his roommate—Fan Zhanwei.

Lena Ann looked around, failed to find his target, and asked, “Where’s Fan Zhanwei? Fled after killing his teammate?”

“He didn’t flee.” Chu Xun adjusted his glasses. “After Fan Zhanwei killed Lin Ye and seized all his team’s points, he went to Sphinx to have his wish granted.”

As he spoke, he walked step by step toward the wall hung with a lion mask.

Only then did the players notice an equally decrepit stone statue standing before the mottled, gray wall, its dull color almost merging with the surroundings.

The statue’s surface was jagged with uneven stones stacked to the height of an adult; its rough outline made it impossible to discern a human shape.

Yet, given the context, the statue’s identity was obvious.

“Fan Zhanwei is dead,” Chu Xun said with a sigh. “It seems that in this instance, the price of asking Sphinx for a wish is complete petrifaction.

“He paid the price and had his wish fulfilled.”

But… what wish could be worth turning oneself to stone?

The players had no answer.

The only person who knew was sealed forever in stone, silent for all time.

Undeniably, things had become troublesome. Originally, they only needed Chang Xu to amass enough points, make a wish to kill Qi Si, and everyone could clear the instance.

But now they were told that granting a wish meant sacrificing their life.

Who would kill someone else at the cost of their own life?

Chang Xu stared at Fan Zhanwei’s stone form, thinking and weighing options.

He wanted Qi Si dead because Qi Si had once killed him, making him feel endangered.

An instinct for survival embedded in his genes and past experience made him accustomed to eliminating threats, and Qi Si was undoubtedly the biggest, hardest threat he could recall.

—a threat that could harm not only him but also the people and environment around him, destroying everything he wished to preserve.

But what if the cost became his own life in exchange for Qi Si’s death?

Was it worth mutual annihilation to prevent Qi Si from reviving and killing more people?

“Let’s just stick to the original main quest.” Chu Xun gave a bitter smile. “Sphinx’s wish is a temptation that poisons while quenching thirst; the outcome is bound to be terrible, and success isn’t even certain.

“We’ll stop thinking about it. Follow the Colosseum Game’s normal process: gather points, let the victor meet the Evil God, wish for godhood, then come back to see the others—everyone can clear the instance that way.”

The players voiced agreement and returned to the Colosseum grounds.

Perhaps because the rat-men, freed from Qi Si’s curse, had become an unstable factor, The Goat’s attitude toward the players improved markedly.

He first smiled and announced that, owing to Fan Zhanwei and Lin Ye’s deaths, every player would receive two portions of food today.

Next he handed six game coins to each team and informed them that today’s rules were unchanged from yesterday.

As before, the players entered the Glazed High Tower to earn points.

Although many had partially petrified bodies and moved sluggishly, they still managed—albeit with effort—to clear the tower’s floors and claim rewards.

By day’s end nearly everyone had saved the required three-thousand points, enough to make a wish.

But most declared outright they would never risk petrifaction by asking Sphinx for a wish.

Throughout the day no one chose food as a reward, so the food-distribution phase never happened.

Though Chu Xun and Green still led in points, thanks to Fan Zhanwei and Lin Ye’s deaths everyone obtained enough food to last the day.

The third day passed without incident; the rankings shifted little, and nothing notable occurred that night.

Day four arrived—and Chu Xun vanished against everyone’s expectations.

Green held a notebook filled with plans and pointed to an additional statue in the room.

No one had imagined that Chu Xun, like Fan Zhanwei, had a wish he would rather turn to stone to fulfill.

“He succeeded,” Green said. “He kept in touch with me through a prop; his wish really came true.”

Chu Xun’s wish was to save a certain someone—a person dear to him; he had entered the Eerie Game for that very person.

From the start he had resolved to grant this wish; once he saw the situation would change no further and his analysis was no longer needed, he calmly went to die.

Because of Chu Xun’s death, every player received one portion of food, but they still lacked another, which had to be obtained by clearing the tower.

Everyone knew food earned through the tower would be allocated by the top scorer; anyone who gave up points for food would lose out.

Yet the remaining teams’ scores were neck-and-neck; even the first-place team would drop to second if any member chose food instead of points.

Therefore, to avoid harming their own interests, all players could only grind for points frantically.

With no one providing food, a lose-lose scenario was inevitable—once hunger was triggered, people would really die.

Unless… they killed someone in advance, so everyone would receive another portion of food.

Green, ranked first in total points, and Qin Mu, ranked second, formed an alliance, calling on players to set aside one game coin each for food and distribute the rest freely.

They promised again and again that, whoever ended up in charge of the distribution, fairness would be absolute.

Looking at Green’s bulging muscles, the players chose not to act on their own; each obediently picked a food reward once.

True to his word, Green divided the food equally among everyone.

Day four passed uneventfully, and the audience grew dissatisfied.

They wanted bloody brawls and slaughter, not lifeless negotiations and truces.

The Goat had to promise that the next day’s format would be tweaked.

On day five, The Goat told the players: someone must die before anyone else gets food.

As compensation, once a single person died, the rest would receive not one but two portions of food.

Food rewards in the Glazed High Tower were cancelled; Green chose Action Point instead, aiming to capture Nian Fu on the board.

Luckily, Nian Fu had also gained plenty of Action Point and barely evaded Green’s pursuit.

The two were now very close on the board; Green pulled a Greatsword from his inventory and slashed at Nian Fu’s neck.

Nian Fu arched backward just in time, a Whip flashing into her hand; she lashed it out, coiling the blade.

As they strained against each other, Lena Ann crept toward Green, poised to strike.

A black flash—Chang Xu interposed his Broken Blade, knocking the Dagger from Lena Ann’s hand.

A melee sparked and died; no one could gauge the others’ hidden cards, so after the failed ambush they retreated to their places.

When the day’s Colosseum Game ended, no one had died—and no one received food.

Liu Yuhan used the Strange Tale Notebook to simulate the instance’s ending; the result left her face bloodless.

The notebook said that, at this rate, only two would survive to the end.

Those two would certainly not be her or Chang Xu.

After all, Green, Dong Xiwen and Lena Ann had never faced food shortages and still had chances.

She, Chang Xu, Qin Mu and Nian Fu were half-petrified; by midnight, hunger might turn them entirely to stone.

The players returned to their rooms in heavy silence.

In the chamber hung with a Fox Mask, Nian Fu clasped the Pendant at her breast and soundlessly said, “Sis, I’ll kill myself in a moment—then the food will be enough.”

From the day she joined the Balance Guild she had been ready to sacrifice, knowing that no number of lives outweighed the safety of “that person”.

She was a pawn in that person’s hand; at the crucial moment she would gladly die for them… She recalled their first meeting—he had not been looking for her; she had simply appeared by chance and been taken in as an afterthought.

Like tossing scraps to a stray cat or dog: a casual kindness that leaves no mark on the giver, yet becomes the whole world to the receiver.

Nian Fu wondered, “If I really die for her, will I weigh even a little more in her heart? Will she remember me?”

Maybe not—too many have already died for her; maybe yes—death is, after all, so heavy. Who could say?

Time crept on; Nian Fu stared at the ceiling mural, watching the light fade inch by inch until the strokes blurred and the details vanished.

Her pupils dilated as she whispered, “I’m suddenly so scared—what does death feel like? Sis, do you think it will hurt?”

“Nian Fu, don’t die.” The voice from the Pendant was as gentle as the day they first met. “Live—both of us will be all right.”

…Beneath the Black Wolf Mask, Chang Xu opened his eyes in the darkness, already forgetting whatever dream he had had.

Hunger flooded over him like a tide, his stomach cramping in fierce, twisting pain.

He could feel his body stiffening bit by bit, lime spreading across his skin, ready to swallow him whole.

A rustle beside him—Liu Yuhan sat up, lit a lamp, her face paler than paper.

Petrification had reached her jaw; stiffly she placed the Strange Tale Notebook on the floor and spoke rapidly: “I’ve written every possible follow-up and plan in there. You have to survive—as long as you live, the Dark Judge stays active. Even if Qi Si survives this instance, it’ll be useless…”

It sounded like a last will; Chang Xu frowned. “What are you planning?”

What was she planning? What should she do?

Countless voices echoed in her mind—companions from past instances who had followed her.

A renowned Theory-Crafter and Cerebral Player on the Forums, she often posted Instance Guides and claims that others clutched like life-preservers.

In reality and in instances, those followers trusted her decisions and carried them out full of hope.

Yet she was no god—only a hard-working mediocrity who could err and overlook things; every misstep cost blood, a weight she bore.

Familiar faces drifted away one by one, leaving her utterly alone.

This time, she didn’t want to watch another companion die before her eyes.

“Only one person has to die, and everyone gets food.” Liu Yuhan curved her lips in a smile.

A Dagger condensed in her hand; she drove it into her heart, as if nailing a heretic to a crucifix.

Blood burst across her chest, a brilliant crimson bloom whose petals scattered and streamed down like red tears.

Qi Si’s question about her desire still rang in her ears; only now did she understand—she lived not to kill.

She lived to save, to let those who deserved life live better… Her smile was radiant and relieved: “I should’ve died long ago; even if I don’t die now, he’ll kill me once we leave the instance.”

No one knew Qi Si’s plan, so they had to assume the worst—that he would resurrect.

Once he came back, all prior efforts would collapse; rebels would face not death but deeper control.

“I already died in the Hopeless Sea instance—became a walking corpse under soul control, wallowing in filth and lingering on. That shouldn’t have been me…”

She remembered childhood: her father pressing a Fountain Pen into her hand, clumsily saying, “Yuhang, study, learn right from wrong, be upright and kind.”

She recalled moments when hardship tempted her to fall, yet morality held her back, keeping her heart through every lure.

Back then she thought she would stand in sunlight, bloom like flowers—how could she degrade herself to a gnat?

She didn’t fear death; she feared vanishing without a trace.

What was the point of living? Everyone she loved and who loved her was gone; she had no more ties to the world.

Yet after crawling into the light, even in death she would ignite a living bonfire… At least now she still had the freedom to choose for whom she died.

Blood drained slowly; death was still distant. She saw Chang Xu’s pupils widen and narrow, as if he had decided something, understood something.

Then she saw him crouch before her and say, word by word: “Liu Yuhan, don’t die. Live—I know how to clear the instance.”