Dark alleys have their own darkness. In places like this, murder and robbery are hard to notice.
The paths are narrow and the alleys deep—raise your voice too much and it echoes.
Like now, the word “ugly” from the little clay figurine echoed powerfully, filling the entire alley.
The moment the Drug King spoke, Mister Rose knew it was Su Er setting a trap. The rational move would’ve been to expose the culprits' location now. The Drug King had just awakened, her power at its peak—if she confronted them, the two of them would surely be in danger.
But as he stared at the disdainful Drug King, deep in her melodramatic phase, Mister Rose narrowed his eyes. Comparing the two, his grudge against Su Er seemed deeper.
Just then, the little figure stuttered, “More… than once.”
Concise and clear: the host couldn’t act against the boss of the instance. If the Drug King was to die, it had to be by players' hands.
But Su Er was different. There would be future encounters. If he wanted revenge, the opportunity would come.
Mister Rose glanced at the clay figure, and a few seconds later made a decision. His fingers, hidden in his sleeve, moved slightly, and the wind in the alley subtly shifted direction.
The Drug King frowned. Misled by the smell, she felt she might’ve come to the wrong place.
Before turning around, she gave the Mister Rose another look, quietly releasing some hallucinogenic pollen to test him. But it had no effect. Judging by that, she probably wouldn’t win a fight. Weighing the situation, she decided to go after the two scoundrels who escaped last night.
As she was about to leave the alley, the Drug King, still annoyed, turned back and sneered, “Ugly freak.”
Melodramatic didn’t mean stupid. When her first insult hadn’t drawn retaliation, she guessed either the man wasn’t strong enough or was being held back by something. Just like herself—so long as she didn’t die, she would keep cycling endlessly between awakening, decline, and slumber.
Mister Rose said nothing. He glanced sideways toward Su Er’s hiding spot, sneered coldly, then vanished.
The alley fell silent again.
Su Er let out a slight breath of relief. He didn’t immediately leave the reeking alley and instead turned to Ji Heng, saying, “If we go out now, we might lure the Drug King back.”
But staying hidden wasn’t a permanent solution either. Who knew how long the host’s little trick would fool the Drug King?
Before he could finish, a scream rang out in the distance, cutting him off.
Ji Heng said quietly, “Don’t move.”
Then he climbed up the wall. A few seconds later, he jumped back down: “It’s the Drug King.”
Su Er frowned. “She’s killing someone?”
Ji Heng had only glimpsed an arm being devoured by a giant flower. He described it: “The Drug King's killing method is kind of like a python’s.”
Su Er imagined the scene and his face darkened.
A heavy silence settled between them as they leaned against the wall, both thinking of a solution.
At the same time, Xu He and his people arrived at the Regulation Bureau. After the first batch of staff died in the line of duty, the current ones were all under their control and didn’t bother speaking discreetly.
“The Drug King has awakened,” Xu He closed his eyes. “There are some self-righteous people trying to attack her.”
One staffer quickly said, “We can provide close protection.”
Xu He couldn’t be bothered with fools. Wang Sansi, ever smooth and polite, explained gently, “When the Drug King first wakes, she has a cannibalistic instinct.”
The staff's first reaction wasn’t concern for the townspeople’s safety, but whether it would cause unrest.
“She takes some time to fully digest one person,” Wang Sansi dropped the niceties and got to the point: “I want everyone deployed. Capture those players as soon as possible.”
They couldn’t directly harm players, but detaining them until the game ended was doable.
A staffer asked awkwardly, “What if we run into the Drug King…”
Xiao Cui, who hadn’t spoken until now, cut in impatiently before Wang Sansi could reply: “Just grab someone from the detainees and throw them out as a human shield.”
The staffer smacked his forehead. “Brilliant idea!”
Half an hour passed. Su Er and Ji Heng were still nestled among the garbage. Their topic had drifted—from how to stay undetected under the Drug King's nose, to talking about Xu He.
“Based on what we overheard that night, Xu He longs to become a coffin bearer.” Now that the mission was clearer, Su Er still couldn’t figure that part out: “He’s a player. His mission is to protect the Drug King. What does that have to do with coffin bearers?”
And then there was the last line of the doggerel: “Red sleeves dance on the son’s coffin.” Maybe “red sleeves” referred to the Drug King, who grew from the coffin—fair enough. But what did “son” refer to?
His murmuring reached Ji Heng’s ears. Ji Heng thought for a moment. “If ‘son’ refers to the coffin bearer, then the three must be connected somehow.”
Before the last syllable fully fell, Ji Heng’s expression shifted slightly: “The Drug King grew from the coffin—but who put her there in the first place?”
Xu He couldn’t have done it alone.
Su Er followed his line of thought and stopped smiling. “So the true apex predator on the food chain is the coffin bearer.”
He couldn’t help but feel relieved that the plan to snatch the coffin hadn’t gone through. Then again, that night Xu He had fervently prayed to the God of Freedom. Maybe there was an even higher entity above the coffin bearers—this so-called God of Freedom.
After a few seconds of thought, Su Er suddenly looked up—only to see Ji Heng watching him with a half-smile. He cursed quietly under his breath.
The curse wasn’t directed at Ji Heng, of course—but at the host.
“Almost got played again.”
That night, Su Er had wondered why Mister Rose didn’t settle the score directly. He hadn’t expected a trap from the very start.
He couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly. “When he guided us to steal the stamp from the intern guide, he must’ve known we’d look for other clues instead.”
And that’s exactly what happened. They found the cemetery, the critical black dog stamp… and naturally forgot all about the intern guide.
Ji Heng remained calm, saying evenly, “Anyone who manages to always come out ahead without ever lying—that’s someone you should be especially wary of.”
Su Er nodded. “Consider it a lesson well learned.”
Victims forced into becoming informants due to domestic abuse, undercover cops, drug traffickers, traitors—each identity had its own story. Every presence jointly pushed the instance forward.
In contrast to the typically fragmented narratives, this instance had a complete storyline—except for one identity that felt completely unnecessary… the intern guide.
Tasks like handing out stamps were usually handled by the host; there was no real need for an intern guide to exist. For the instance to insert such a role out of nowhere, and even have him serve as the host’s assistant, there had to be a reason.
Ji Heng glanced at the coat tied around Su Er’s waist. Su Er understood, and began pulling out clay figures one by one from the makeshift pockets sewn into the coat. He gave them instructions: “Go find the intern guide. He always wears black and never walks freely in sunlight like a normal person.”
As he spoke, he roughly sketched a portrait in the dusty ground, but it was barely recognizable. Ji Heng couldn’t bear to look at it and modified the lines until it was at least 70-80% accurate.
In special cases, quantity could make up for quality. Like now—the clay figure army might not be smart, but they were efficient. They quickly fanned out across the small town, conducting a stealthy search.
An hour later, Su Er finally received the intel he wanted.
Leaving the dark alley, he took in fresh air again—it felt like being reborn.
What goes around comes around. On his first day here, Su Er had posted a missing-person notice for the Gravekeeper's Servant. Now, wanted posters of him and Ji Heng were plastered all over town. Fortunately, the little clay figurine served as guides. Their journey went smoothly, and whenever someone got close, they’d sound a warning in advance.
During the day, the intern guide was always alone. He didn’t seem to care about anything, sitting by himself in a dark room, waiting for night to fall.
When Ji Heng and Su Er arrived, the intern guide was far from welcoming, immediately placing them on the enemy side.
Su Er said, “I mean no harm.”
The intern guide replied coolly, “You’re here to steal the stamp.”
Su Er shook his head. “Actually, from the first moment I saw you, I knew—you’re someone with a story.”
That line sounded oddly familiar. Ji Heng remembered that in the beginner level, Su Er had once said the same about a ghost with a tragic backstory—then dangled her over a flushing toilet and flushed her repeatedly.
“I admire people with stories,” Su Er tried to curry favor.
The intern guide shook his head. “I don’t even have complete memories—what story would I have?”
“But I do have a recurring dream,” he added. “In it, I long to bring freedom to everyone… I help people escape the cycle of life and death. Yet they claim their souls still aren't free. So I found a flower that could affect one’s mind, gave it power, and hoped it would bring spiritual liberation to the lost.”
“But in the end, they all betrayed me. I used up all my strength to force the immortals to carry the coffin they should’ve entered, as penance. And the flower—cursed to endlessly awaken, slumber, and awaken again.”
Su Er lowered his eyes. “What you gave them was escapism, not freedom.”
The intern guide didn’t react, even after his entire philosophy was denied.
Su Er asked, “Then why are there still people desperate to become coffin bearers?”
The intern guide answered, “They only see eternal life—they don’t see the suffering behind it.”
He sighed, then started explaining his views on freedom.
Wasting time debating values with someone who didn’t share your worldview was pointless. Su Er chose to cut to the chase: “I want to destroy the Drug King for good.”
The intern guide suddenly smiled eerily. “Fine. But you have to become a coffin bearer.”
Su Er’s expression darkened. Ji Heng stepped forward, calm and silent, and gave him a look—leave.
Just as Ji Heng was about to throw out a talisman, the intern guide said lazily, “It’s 9:30 now. Not long ago, I gave a town kid some money to notify the Regulation Bureau at 9:20, telling them fugitives are hiding in this house.”
He looked out the window. “By my count, they’ll be here in about 15 minutes.”
The intern guide turned back and stared at Ji Heng. “You won’t be able to end a fight in 15 minutes, even if you might be able to beat me now, with my power shattered.”
Ji Heng said coldly, “What do you want?”
The intern guide stood up and pointed at Su Er. “I can tell how much he despises and looks down on coffin bearers. But that Xu He guy? He dreams of becoming one. When he arrives and sees someone else easily get everything he’s chased so desperately—don’t you think that’ll be fun?”
“Besides, you two seem pretty close. Watching you let your partner become a coffin bearer to save yourself? That’s entertainment.”
Faced with such undisguised malice, Su Er’s fingers curled slightly.
“Agree to it,” Ji Heng said suddenly.
“Huh?”
Ji Heng: “There’s no better option right now.”
The intern guide watched eagerly, sensing a rift between the two.
But Su Er wasn’t angry. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Sacrificing one to save the bigger picture is a valid path.”
Ji Heng nodded. Then he asked, “The God of Freedom was betrayed and corrupted. You’re being mistreated now. So, after becoming a coffin bearer, what are you going to do?”
Su Er thought for a bit. “Take revenge on society.”
Ji Heng smiled, satisfied. “How?”
Su Er slowly uttered four words: “Infinite game instances.”
Ji Heng then looked to the intern guide. “Since you want him stuck in the game forever, better start right away.”
He then stepped aside generously, leaving Su Er standing alone.
The intern guide stretched out his hand, a triumphant smile just starting to form—when his whole arm was suddenly engulfed in blue flames. No matter how he screamed and rolled in pain, the fire wouldn’t go out.
At first, the intern guide thought it was Ji Heng’s doing. Only when he sensed the threat of death did he realize it was the game’s will.
Why?
Why was the game punishing him like a traitor? He hadn’t broken any rules!
With less than ten minutes before the Regulation Bureau would arrive, Ji Heng calmly spent five minutes explaining Su Er’s actions in Tianji—especially the zombie ending.
“If you were the game, and saw one of your subordinates trying to trap a player like that in your world forever, what would your first reaction be?”
The intern guide imagined it and, gritting his teeth through the pain, spat out a sentence: “Some… damned bastard’s trying to screw me over!”
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