Basically, whenever he spoke, others had to fall silent.
Fortunately, the occasional sea breeze made the atmosphere feel a little less stifling.
Seeing that no one intended to speak, Su Er instead took the initiative to ask, “Is this heart very important to you?”
Qu Qingming gave no response.
Su Er asked again, “If I crush it, will you die?”
Qu Qingming replied grumpily, “Half-dead.”
Su Er was puzzled. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you hide it somewhere more secure?”
Qu Qingming let out a quiet scoff, full of complex emotions—mostly mockery but also helplessness. “I had to.”
If it weren’t for the mandatory rules, she would’ve hidden it in a tree hollow somewhere in the island’s thousands of trees, giving no one a chance to find it.
The wind was gradually picking up; it became difficult even to keep one’s eyes open against it. Qu Qingming, who was particularly attentive to appearance, instinctively smoothed down her wind-blown hair even at a time like this.
Su Er noticed this and his gaze darkened slightly. “Were you a player before?”
Qu Qingming’s expression changed and she fell silent.
Su Er turned to Ji Heng, surprised. “A player can become a ghost after death?”
Qu Qingming couldn’t hold back anymore. “Who told you I was a player?”
Su Er: “You admitted it fifteen seconds ago.”
At this point, what she wanted most was to drag the person in front of her down with her. After a moment, Qu Qingming suddenly collected her emotions. “That conclusion’s wrong. My situation is a bit special.”
Su Er only cared about the main point: she had once been a player.
“You’ll find out the reason soon.” Qu Qingming turned to face the direction of the seaside villa. The hatred in her eyes had disappeared, replaced with a strange smile.
The next moment, Lu Quanqiu and Man Jiangshan appeared. Both of them looked a little dazed, clearly brought here suddenly by the host.
Su Er was a bit envious of this space-transfer ability. Mastering it would be like having a trump card against ghost attacks. Unfortunately, aside from the host, he’d never heard of any player in the game who could do that.
After a moment of stunned silence, Lu Quanqiu was the first to react, exclaiming excitedly, “You did it!”
His emotions were already on the verge of losing control. When he didn’t get an answer immediately, he exploded in anger. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Something flashed quickly through Su Er’s mind. He stared at the host, his gaze flickering.
At this moment, Mister Rose finally spoke. “Congratulations to the three of you for successfully completing the mission.”
The emphasis on the number was very precise.
“Three?!” Lu Quanqiu immediately had a bad feeling.
If someone couldn’t leave, he’d be the first one affected.
Mister Rose disliked repeating himself and ignored Lu Quanqiu’s question. Qu Qingming instead helpfully explained: “Before you, there was a full-team wipe here. I was one of them.”
Lu Quanqiu seemed to catch on, his eyes wide with rage. “You also got an immunity ticket?”
Qu Qingming smiled and nodded. “At first, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. Later, I realized, in this game, nothing comes for free.”
Surviving after a failed dungeon was a prerequisite. But the rules couldn’t be broken, so the compromise was to make her something neither human nor ghost.
“The immunity ticket causes a certain emotion to be infinitely amplified until the heart completely withers. Only then does rationality return to normal.”
Lu Quanqiu felt the blood rush to his head. He pointed at Su Er and Ji Heng. “Didn’t the mission already succeed?”
Qu Qingming replied, “If it had been a day earlier, you’d still have a chance. But now…”
Her gaze lingered seductively on Lu Quanqiu’s chest. He reflexively pressed that area, then tapped it lightly—discovering that it seemed like only an empty heart chamber remained, with a dull echo inside.
Fear and panic now completely overwhelmed his anger. Qu Qingming actually laughed at the sight. “Accept your fate.”
Lu Quanqiu growled, “Why should I accept it?! I—”
Before he could finish, Man Jiangshan knocked him out from behind.
No one criticized the action. Even if Man Jiangshan hadn’t done it, Su Er would have. Players on the verge of collapse could easily do something dangerous.
Ji Heng, who had been quietly standing to the side, suddenly asked, “In that dungeon you participated in, who was the Love Killer?”
Qu Qingming: “A player from a few rounds back who also got an immunity ticket—but his identity was exposed.”
She sighed, voice full of grievance. “There was a real top-tier player in our group. Thanks to him, everyone teamed up to take down the Love Killer.” A trace of sorrow flickered in Qu Qingming’s eyes. “Then we found out the heart wasn’t in the chest at all. And before long, we ran out of time. The mission failed.”
She didn’t describe how the others died, but one could imagine it was horrific.
Ji Heng then asked a rather strange question: “Were you good-looking before?”
Qu Qingming hesitated, then finally gave an uncertain answer. “Maybe.”
Su Er had been watching both of them out of the corner of his eye, sensing hidden meanings behind their words.
“You two can keep asking till dawn for all I care,” Mister Rose calmly interrupted, “But whatever happens after dawn, you’ll have to bear it yourselves.”
It was an unspoken rule of the game to leave promptly after completing a mission. Su Er wasn’t planning to challenge it. Apparently, neither was Ji Heng.
“Let’s go now…” As he spoke, Su Er approached the host. Mister Rose frowned and stepped back.
Su Er pressed forward and asked in a low voice, “The little…”
“Can’t be taken,” Mister Rose directly shattered his unrealistic hope.
Suppressing a hint of regret, Su Er put on a look of benevolence, like a wolf in grandma’s clothing. “Mind if I leave behind an orphan?”
Unexpectedly, Mister Rose seemed to have been waiting for that exact question. “Hold out your hand.”
Su Er hesitated for two seconds, decided his wrist wouldn’t be chopped off instantly, and slowly opened his palm.
The next moment, a weightless stamp appeared in his hand.
Mister Rose said, “It will take you to an instance.”
Su Er instinctively tried to give it back.
“There’s an old nemesis of mine in there,” Mister Rose said indifferently. “I want to harm him, not you.”
“Take it,” Ji Heng's voice came as Su Er was still hesitating. “We have to enter instances anyway. Wherever we go, it’s the same.”
Su Er snapped back to reality—anyone the Host considered an enemy was likely of equal strength, which meant the difficulty of the dungeon should be about the same.
He pocketed the stamp and handed the little figure over to the Host. “I still owe it a pair of long legs. I’ll trouble you with that.”
The Host couldn’t be bothered to listen to his rambling. With a wave of his sleeve, a pillar of light instantly enveloped the three of them.
There was a brief moment before their bodies were fully dissolved by the light. Su Er looked at Qu Qingming. She shrugged. “Don’t pity me. I’ve got an unlucky bastard to keep me company anyway.”
She said this while kicking the unconscious Lu Quanqiu like a football.
Su Er then looked down at the little figure. Under his gaze, the little one slowly raised an arm, thin as a matchstick, and waved.
“Don’t tell anyone you know me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, that was the final sentence Su Er left it with.
Upon returning to the Transfer Station, the first thing Su Er saw when he turned his head was Ji Heng’s unusually intense gaze.
Su Er raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”
“Not really,” Ji Heng chuckled. “They always say the second child gets more love. I used to think that was nonsense.”
Now the truth was right in front of him... Same type of child—one was taught to call Su Er “Daddy Su,” the other was warned not to admit knowing him. It was painfully obvious who was more cherished.
Su Er gave an awkward laugh. “You’re really something with analogies.”
The wounds on Man Jiangshan’s body had fully healed when they returned to the Transfer Station. She quickly removed the extra bandages and thanked them. “Thanks to you two, I made it out alive.”
Su Er extended his hand. “Pleasure working with you.”
If she hadn’t stalled Qu Qingming at the critical moment, the timing wouldn’t have worked out so perfectly.
After a handshake, Man Jiangshan smiled. “Why don’t I treat you guys to a meal when we get out?”
Su Er responded seriously, “Leaving immediately or plugging your ears would be help enough.”
“For wha—”
Before she could finish the question, the sky changed color.
Realization dawned on Man Jiangshan. She instinctively looked at Ji Heng’s nameplate. The golden, glowing characters for “Chicken and Dog” shone like a warning sign. She swallowed nervously, dazed.
Collecting 24 achievement points was nearly impossible, so she never had any desire to aim for them—nor did she want a ridiculous title like that weighing her down.
The heavy storm clouds gathered like a charging army. Though Su Er had only been in the game a few months, he seemed used to this sight. With hands behind his back, he looked up calmly and even had the mind to comfort Man Jiangshan. “Don’t overthink it. If it’s fate, you can’t dodge it.”
Fortunately, not many players had entered the dungeon at the beginning of the month, so they avoided a repeat of last time’s embarrassing crowd.
Before long, the cold, familiar notification tone echoed—
[Congratulations to Player Su Er and Ji Heng for obtaining the achievement 'Heavenly Match'.]
[Congratulations to Player Su Er for obtaining the achievement 'Equal Treatment'.]
[Congratulations to Player Su Er for obtaining the achievement 'It Doesn’t Matter Who the Kid’s Father Is'.]
Heaven was merciful and spared Man Jiangshan.
After confirming her name wasn’t among the announcements, Man Jiangshan went over the three achievements again and couldn’t help but feel something was off. Together, they formed a weirdly progressive narrative.
As the person involved, Su Er gave a cold laugh and looked down at his nameplate—exactly ten achievements.
A perfect ten!
Man Jiangshan noticed the number too, and said enviously, “You might really become the first player to collect all 24 achievement points.”
Su Er didn’t care much. When you’re just one step from success, what usually awaits isn’t salvation—but a bottomless abyss.
Still, none of that showed on his face. He smiled calmly. “Let’s hope so.”
Man Jiangshan was emotionally intelligent and sensed he didn’t want to talk further. She politely said her farewells.
Su Er waved. “Hope we meet again.”
Man Jiangshan nodded. She felt the same. The biggest fear in an instance was getting saddled with useless teammates. Su Er might be unpredictable, but he could draw all the heat from both the Host and the ghosts on his own—that was invaluable.
After watching her figure disappear into the distance, Su Er finally pulled out the stamp the Host had handed him.
It was a strange one. A human face was printed in the center, beautiful and androgynous, but with an expression that looked like crying despite the smile. Somehow, it gave the eerie impression of weeping.
Su Er thought he saw the bright red lips on the stamp move slightly.
Shaking his head, he tucked it away. “Looks like I’ll have to meet this so-called old enemy of the Host’s on my own before the end of the month.”
“Not necessarily.” Ji Heng looked up at the sky, still heavy with clouds. “When the time comes, have us assigned together. As team leader, I have a duty to supervise the team’s conduct. He’s still young. Needs watching.”
Those strangely familiar words made Su Er’s eye twitch. If he remembered right, Ji Heng had made a similar solemn promise to the sky before their last dungeon. And the result?
First, he’d encouraged Su Er to become a master of time management. Then, he’d dragged him into an impromptu overseas vacation for two. Finally, he’d lured him into using the mysterious eye in his body—causing over a thousand ghosts to lose their jobs!
In short, those three new achievements? Ji Heng deserved full credit.
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