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Chapter 70

Chapter 70: Reality


"I'm out here being chased by zombies, and you're in a safe house so bored you want to go out and cut up two zombies for fun?"


"Twenty-four days into the game, 90% of the zombies have been killed. We thought if we hid and stayed in for one more day, we'd clear the game. But the remaining 10% have mutated horribly due to radiation. They've grown several times bigger and are invulnerable to knives and guns."


"Anyway, I almost didn’t make it back. I envy those lucky players. If you think it's boring, let me bear the boredom next time!"



---


It was raining outside, and the sky was a dull gray.


The studio's floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the manor, with the rain casting a light veil over the landscape.


On the easel was a nearly finished painting.


Under the begonias was a woman in a plain-colored cheongsam, her delicate hands adorned with a bracelet. Her sideburns lifted slightly, as if a bell could be heard.


Even from a side view, her elegance was evident.


"Master Qin, we've found it," Duanlou said, lowering his head, unable to look further.


It was the first time he had seen this master painting a person.


He couldn’t shake the feeling that if the person in the painting were alive, there would be a 'danger' sign above her head.


The studio was so quiet that even the faint sound of the brush moving across the canvas could be heard.


"Since half a year ago, Lord He has indeed been secretly searching for someone. It’s said that this person was among the first batch of S-rank players like him, and he holds her in high regard."


"Some also say that person is his."


At this point, Duanlou noticed that the paintbrush in Qin Mubai's hand had paused. His expression turned cold, his features set in a chilling manner, and his aura became oppressive, quite different from his earlier demeanor.


Duanlou shivered and said cautiously, "White Moonlight."


"Oh?" Qin Mubai put down his paintbrush, a smirk on his lips, his cool voice carrying an indifferent tone.


Duanlou's head dropped even lower. Those familiar with him knew that such moments were highly dangerous.


He seemed to smile gently, approachable and non-threatening.


But that’s the same smile he wears when he's about to take someone’s life.


"But that’s just a rumor," Duanlou added, trying to ease the tension, but it was evidently futile.


Even after leaving the studio and walking some distance away, he still felt a lingering fear.


He wondered what had happened to Master Qin in the game, leading him to start painting people and suddenly investigate Lord He.


They and the Shadow Alliance had always kept their distance and stayed out of each other’s affairs.


What was going on?


Had someone from the Shadow Alliance caused trouble in the game?


That didn’t seem likely. Given his character, he would have acted directly rather than investigate S-rank players outside the game.


This unusual behavior was truly unsettling.



---


As twilight fell, the bright moon appeared and disappeared among the clouds, and the stars shone more brilliantly than the most dazzling lights.


Outside the private winery.


"Sis, it's only just past nine, and you're heading back already?" Shen Yan followed Ye Nianchu out the door. "Aren’t you staying a bit longer?"


"Uh, going home to sleep." Ye Nianchu glanced at her phone.


It had been two days since the last round of the game, and she hadn’t heard a word from the person who had asked if she wanted to meet him.


"Has the driver arrived?" Shen Yan looked around. "If not, I can give you a ride."


"No need," Ye Nianchu said, looking at him. "I’ve called for a chauffeur. You go back inside."


The winery belonged to Shen Yan. They had all been drinking, and drinking and driving don’t mix.


"Alright then, send me a message when you get home." Shen Yan reminded her before heading back.


Under the night sky, with shadows cast by the trees, a slender figure walked slowly toward them.


---


Footnote:


1. "White Moonlight" (白月光, Bái Yuèguāng) refers to someone who is an idealized and unattainable love, often seen as a perfect but distant figure.

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