"Ah—!!”
A shrill scream pierced through the dense forest.
The decayed “Lei Li” rose one after another, draped in the green velvet cloaks Jiang Yan had given them, their faces dripping with yellow fluid and swarming with maggots, yet adorned with innocent, sweet smiles.
They all turned to look at Zhou Hao, as if they had simply bumped into him during a break, and asked in unison, “Did anyone lose something?”
Zhou Hao, paralyzed with fear, trembled, cold sweat pouring down his face. His mouth moved as if he wanted to respond to the “Lei Li,” but he only seemed to stutter from sheer fright.
“N-No, it’s not me…” Zhou Hao stammered, shaking his head and stepping backward, his forehead slick with sweat.
After retreating several steps, he stepped on someone’s foot.
Startled, Zhou Hao slowly turned his head, finding Lei Li staring at him with her pitch-black eyes, unblinking.
“Ah—!”
Zhou Hao screamed again and bolted without looking back!
Lei Li seemed equally terrified. Ignoring her screaming companions, she stood rooted in place, staring blankly at the pile of her own corpses before her.
At the sight, everyone instinctively wanted to flee, but as they all turned to run, Lei Li remained frozen.
“Don’t look! Run!” Zhong Yun urged, trying to pull the paralyzed girl away, but no matter how hard she tugged, Lei Li’s legs felt as if they were nailed to the ground, not budging an inch.
Seeing this, the others hesitated.
“Hey, Zhou Hao! Wait up!” Wang Yu called out, worried that Zhou Hao was running too far ahead and might encounter danger.
But Zhou Hao was clearly too frightened to listen, charging ahead without a care, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared into the depths of the forest.
Watching Zhou Hao scream and vanish, Ding Wanyu and Jiang Yan exchanged worried glances.
Ding Wanyu thought it was highly unlikely that someone who had gotten separated would make it back alive, and they might as well give up on that player.
Jiang Yan was puzzled; Lei Li and Zhou Hao were classmate, and having a companion in such a game was something many yearned for but couldn’t easily achieve.
After all, humans are social creatures. Their ability to hunt fierce beasts and rise to the top of the food chain relies not on individual strength but on the power of the group.
The same was true in this game. The desire for survival drove all participants to band together, forming groups known as—guilds—under the name given by the “Main God.”
[This guy’s no good! He just ditched his companion and ran away.]
[He’s done for! A lone player like that is bound to meet their end.]
[Better for us, one less to worry about.]
[He’s still too young; it’s human nature to avoid danger.]
Jiang Yan had always assumed that Lei Li and Zhou Hao shared a bond of loyalty, but now it seemed otherwise…
Just then, 663 spoke up: “Lei Li entered the game because of Zhou Hao.”
“Because of Zhou Hao?” Jiang Yan looked at the footprints leading into the forest, frowning lightly. “Does she like him?”
“No, their relationship at school isn’t that good,” 663 explained.
Jiang Yan was even more confused. If their relationship wasn’t good, why did she come in for him?
“Lei Li! Lei Li!”
Jiang Yan’s gaze returned to the motionless girl with short hair.
Under the dark sky, the snow was stark white, and the twisted branches were pitch black, revealing a path covered in “her” corpses.
Faced with the decaying “herself” rising one after another, Lei Li widened her eyes, her lips tinged with purple as she trembled uncontrollably.
The group surrounded her, calling her name, but she seemed unable to hear them.
[The poor girl is too young; who wouldn’t be terrified seeing a pile of their own corpses rise?]
[New players often lack mental resilience.]
[Hey, when you were new, were you any better?]
Zhong Yun desperately tried to turn Lei Li away from the inexplicably appearing path and the pile of “Lei Li,” attempting to cut off the source of her visual stimuli.
Unfortunately, the deep snow trapped Lei Li’s legs, preventing her from moving.
“What are you waiting for? Help!” Zhou Yun shouted at the three men in front, who seemed at a loss.
At her command, Jiang Yan quickly began to clear the snow from around Lei Li’s feet with his golden scythe, while Wang Yu helped.
Just as Ding Wanyu was finishing clearing the snow, he scooped the girl into his arms.
In that moment, everyone froze.
The green velvet cloak Jiang Yan had given her fell to the snow.
Lei Li lay rigidly in Ding Wanyu's arms, her body stiff and straight as a stick, her toes as if they were still tippy-toeing in the snow, stubbornly facing the path lined with her “corpses.” As Ding Wanyu turned her away from the path, her neck twisted with a crack.
Jiang Yan and Wang Yu squatted on the ground, unable to process the abnormal state of the girl in front of them.
Suddenly, Jiang Yan was lifted from the snow, and a gentle laugh echoed in his ear, “Poor little girl, still unable to accept this reality!”
Before he could react, he found himself cradled in the “Hunter’s” warm embrace.
Seeing that the little lamb in his arms was still in shock, the “Hunter” playfully ruffled Jiang Yan’s hair and asked, “Perhaps your friends aren’t as friendly as they seem. I shouldn’t have let you play with them. Are you mad at me, Yan Yan?”
_
With the appearance of the "Hunter," the ghostly howls of the "Hounds" echoed once again through the forest.
On the path, countless corpses of "Lei li" sat up, repeatedly asking, "Who dropped something?"
"Who dropped something?"
"Who dropped something?!"
"Who dropped something?!!!"
Their voices grew louder and more hysterical, resonating through the forest alongside the howls of the "Hounds."
Ding Wanyu held Lei li in his arms, and she lay rigid like a stick. At that moment, he felt the familiar sensation of the girl in his arms.
Yes, the only sensation that could feel familiar to a corpse-driver was one — a corpse.
The girl's stiffness and icy body temperature served as constant reminders that he was holding a corpse.
Ding Wanyu instantly threw the girl onto the ground, and she landed hard on the green velvet cloak like a frozen human pillar.
"You..." Wang Yu was about to say something.
But he saw Leili, thrown onto the cloak, slowly sitting up. Her body was stiff, and dark purple veins began to appear on her face. She stared blankly at the crowd and asked, "Who... dropped something?"
Jiang Yan silently hugged the "Hunter." The "Hunter" gently tilted Jiang Yan's chin and let out a soft laugh.
"I thought you wouldn't be scared," 663 said with a hint of schadenfreude.
"It's normal to be afraid of the unknown," Jiang Yan replied expressionlessly.
"Look at Zhou Yun; even a girl is calmer than you," 663 remarked.
Jiang Yan's gaze fell on Zhou Yun, who, in the snowy ground, looked at the pile of decaying corpses and her strangely expressioned companions without showing excessive panic.
Her demeanor was no different from that of a "corpse-driver" used to dead bodies and ghosts.
Jiang Yan was somewhat surprised. "Is she... an ordinary person?"
Jiang Yan himself wasn't particularly afraid of ghosts. He had an ex-husband involved in "body art," a big man who had grown tired of seeing realistic human organs, and he couldn't remain calm in the face of this bizarre scene.
Zhong Yun seemed excessively calm.
"Yes," 663 answered, "players who can enter the game are all ordinary people."
Jiang Yan frowned slightly, feeling increasingly certain that there was something off with Zhou Yun and Lei li.
"Rabbit," "Magpie"?
The butcher said that the "Rabbit" had forgotten it was a "Rabbit," while the "Magpie" always remembered it was a "Magpie."
663 said that players must be ordinary people, so "Rabbit" and "Magpie" were merely code names. But why were they referred to this way?
Assuming Leili and Zhou Yun had issues, what special meaning could there be behind these code names?
Just as Jiang Yan's mind was filled with "Rabbit" and "Magpie," Wang Yu let out a scream.
The others followed Wang Yu's gaze and saw the red-clad woman who had been chasing them, appearing from behind a tree with an axe in hand.
She stood quietly behind the dead tree, the black wood and white snow contrasting with the blood on her, making it even more scarlet.
Her abdomen was torn open, and many of her organs had fallen to the ground. A large liver still pulsed slightly with her breathing, and next to it, a fist-sized, undeveloped baby was struggling to grow.
She had been hiding behind the tree for who knew how long, and her broken face held eyes without pupils, greedily gazing at them.
Jiang Yan hugged the "Hunter" tighter, while Ding Wanyu, Wang Yu, and Zhong Yun began to crowd closer to the "Hunter."
This scene was quite ironic: a group of "players" seeking safety from the BOSS of the dungeon.
Players on the game forum also noticed this:
[Um... why did the "Hunter" suddenly appear in the forest?]
[Yeah! According to logic, he should be judging the players at dusk today! Why is he here now? Could there be a new mission?]
[Another mission?! Feel sorry for these newbie players!]
[Jiang Yan says: You don't need to pity me at all.]
[Don't be like that; Jiang Yan isn't having it easy either. He mysteriously got the identity of a judge and could have just laid back to win, but now he might lose his life if he's not careful.]
[Come on! Who isn't hanging by a thread in the game? Who can lie down for five or six days like he can?]
The red-clad woman showed no intention of attacking them, or rather, she was temporarily deterred by the presence of the "Hunter."
The "Lei li" corpses also fell silent, their heads rotating 360 degrees to look in the direction of the "Hunter."
For a moment, everyone quietly awaited the "Hunter's" next move.
As the ruler of this forest and the "God" of this world, the "Hunter" held absolute power.
Jiang Yan embraced the other’s neck, watching the white snow reflect in the green of their eyes, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.
The "Hunter" glanced at the red-clad woman not far away, then turned to tilt the chin of the little lamb in his arms, laughing softly, "Look, there's a dirty little bear over there. Does baby want to dance with her?"
Previous Chapter 10 | Next Chapter 12
Comments