Ch 360: The Fourth Trial: Good And Evil
The Third Test finally concluded, but the death toll for this round reached twenty-nine!
The causes of death for these unfortunate victims varied. Some were tragically murdered during fierce Token battles; others, after collecting four “Sadness” Tokens, had their entire teams mercilessly massacred; even worse, some were cruelly pushed forward by their teammates at the last moment, sacrificing their lives for those precious Tokens; and still others, for failing to successfully collect four “Joy” Tokens, were ruthlessly selected to become sacrificial lambs in this cruel Game.
When Liu Ke regained consciousness, he looked around, his gaze falling on everyone, and suddenly realized that someone seemed to be missing from the team. He looked closely and discovered that the missing person was the Scholar, Lin Yu.
Liu Ke’s heart tightened, and he quickly asked, “Where’s Lin Yu?”
Zhang Shang sighed heavily and replied, “He’s dead. Killed by someone with a Special Ability.”
Hearing this, Liu Ke remained silent, only silently touching his neck. To his surprise, the wound he thought would be there had vanished without a trace.
An odd feeling welled up in Liu Ke’s heart; he was very confused about his physical condition. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d cut his own throat, but each time should have been fatal, yet he miraculously lived.
Not only that, he clearly remembered having pierced his heart, having his intestines ripped out, and even having skinned himself, but no matter how severely he was injured, he didn’t die.
Liu Ke’s fingertips repeatedly rubbed against his neck; the skin was smooth, as if it had never been injured, yet he seemed to still feel the chill of a blade across his throat.
Looking at the tired but alive faces of everyone around the Bonfire, he suddenly felt that everything before him was like looking through frosted glass—Zhang Shang’s furrowed brow, the scattered Token fragments in the distance, even the Blood Smell in the air, all had a distorted blur.
“Have I gone mad already?”
This sentence was like ice thrown into boiling oil; the crackling of the Bonfire suddenly became harsh. Zhang Shang froze, the branch in his hand falling to the ground; the sparks that splashed onto his trousers went unnoticed. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
A sneer curled Liu Ke’s lips, his eyes revealing a hint of disdain. He sarcastically said, “What Bonfire? Is this the so-called Fourth Test?”
Zhang Shang quickly explained, “No, this isn’t the Fourth Test; it’s something the Myriad Wonders Gate prepared for us.”
After a moment of silence, Zhang Shang continued, “Liu Ke, I understand why you think you’ve gone mad. After all, we’re Blade Catchers, facing those Strange Fellows every day—not Demons, but Strange Events, and even Evil Calamities that are beyond comprehension.”
Liu Ke suddenly slapped his head hard, as if trying to shake the chaotic Thoughts from his mind. Then he said to Zhang Shang, “You know? I once skinned myself, several times tried to cut my own throat, and even stabbed myself in the heart. Yet, I’m still alive. I should have died long ago, but for some reason, I’m still alive. All of this feels like a nightmare, or rather, all of this is just me rambling in a corner; everything is just my imagination.”
Zhang Shang grabbed Liu Ke’s wrist, the roughness of his palm causing pain. “Look closely!” He pressed Liu Ke’s hand against his chest. “This Heartbeat is real, and so is yours!”
The Bonfire reflected the bloodshot eyes of Zhang Shang; his voice was hoarse. “I’ve seen countless bizarre deaths, and countless ways of living. Since you chose to be a Blade Catcher, you must be prepared to die and go mad.”
Liu Ke didn’t speak; he simply nodded.
At that moment, that mysterious and low Voice suddenly echoed in the air: “The Fourth Test is about to begin; please prepare yourselves fully.”
Time passed second by second; the scene was silent, only the nervous breathing of everyone rising and falling. After a while, the Voice broke the silence again: “The Fourth Test—Good and Evil—now officially begins!”
Then, the Voice detailed the Rules of Good and Evil: “Each team must send one person to play the Good Person, and another to play the Villain. The Good Person will be tied to a Pillar, and the Villain must find a Method to kill the other team’s Good Person tied to a Pillar; only in this way can they save their Teammates.”
Liu Ke quickly scanned the area; he found that only thirty-six people remained! Twenty-nine people had unfortunately perished in the previous round.
After a rough calculation, Liu Ke realized that four teams had all died, and only six teams were left struggling.
Liu Ke couldn’t help but feel a Worry, because their team still had ten people. Compared to other teams with fewer people, this would undoubtedly make them the primary Attack target of the other five teams.
Now Liu Ke counted the number of people in the other teams: two teams of four, one team of five, one team of six, one team of seven, plus their own team of ten, totaling thirty-six people.
After some discussion, the team decided that Zhou Chenwu would be the Villain and attack, while Xu Chunhua would be the Good Person tied to the Pillar.
Zhou Chenwu cracked his knuckles, his bones making a series of crisp sounds. He looked at Xu Chunhua, bound to a stone Pillar with rough hemp rope; the woman’s face was full of fear. “Please.”
Zhou Chenwu didn’t look at Xu Chunhua again; when he turned around, his fists were already clenched tight. The “Villains” of the other teams also moved.
The closest was the “Good Person” of the Seven-Person Team; he was a man in gray cloth, tied to a stone Pillar three zhang away, his mouth stuffed with cloth, his eyes full of terror.
Zhou Chenwu rushed over in a few steps; the man’s throat let out a “woo-woo” plea, his body twisting desperately, but the rope tightened even more.
Without hesitation, his left fist, fast as lightning, slammed into the man’s chest.
The cloth was knocked away; a short, muffled groan was stuck in his throat; the man’s face instantly turned purplish-black. Zhou Chenwu retracted his hand; his fingertips were covered in the man’s Cold Sweat; then his right fist followed, hitting the man’s lower jaw—the sound of bone shattering mixed with the crackling of the Bonfire; the man’s head softly tilted to one side, his eyes still wide open.
The hemp rope on the Pillar loosened half an inch.
“Five more.”
Zhou Chenwu muttered to himself; his fists were already splattered with blood. He turned to the “Good Person” of the five-person team; she was a girl with pigtails; seeing him come over, she was so scared that her tears and snot covered her face: “Don’t, don’t kill me…”
Zhou Chenwu didn’t stop. The girl’s plea abruptly stopped, because his fist hit her neck, the Force just enough to shatter her cervical vertebrae, but not causing too much blood to splash.
These hands had been fighting for years, long since trained to know their own strength, killing more swiftly than a butcher’s knife.
The third was an Elder from the six-person team, the fourth a thin boy from the four-person team, and the fifth a man with a bushy beard from another four-person team.
Zhou Chenwu was like a tireless machine; between the rise and fall of his fists, screams and the sound of broken bones rang out continuously; the Blood Smell in the air was thick and unyielding.
The last target was the remaining “Good Person” of the Seven-Person Team; tall and strong, seeing his companion die, he spat out a mouthful of blood: “Beast! I won’t let you go even if I become a ghost!”
Zhou Chenwu was expressionless; he dodged the man’s kick, his left fist pressing against his ribs, his right fist slamming into his temple. The Strong Man didn’t even groan; his body slid down the Pillar, leaving a long Bloodstain.
“Thud—”
The last hemp rope on the Pillar finally broke.
Zhou Chenwu turned around, panting; his hand wiped across his forehead; sweat mixed with Bloodstain drew a red mark on his face. Xu Chunhua was still tied in place; looking at him, her eyes were like she had seen an Evil Spirit; her lips trembled, unable to speak.
In the distance, the “Villains” of the other teams were still fighting; two of them had started fighting over the same target. Zhou Chenwu walked step by step back to their own Pillar, his fists hanging by his sides, blood constantly dripping from between his fingers, dripping onto the ground, merging with the blood of the other dead to form a small pool of dark red.
“Is…is it untied?” Xu Chunhua’s voice trembled uncontrollably.
Zhou Chenwu didn’t answer; he reached out to untie the hemp rope on her. When his fingertips touched her skin, he realized that his hands were trembling slightly—not out of fear, but because he had exerted too much force; his bones ached.
“They…are they all dead?” Xu Chunhua stared at the corpses lying in various directions in the distance; her stomach churned.
“Mm.” Zhou Chenwu responded, tearing off the last piece of hemp rope. Xu Chunhua’s legs weakened, almost causing her to fall; he reached out to support her. The woman looked up at him; in the Firelight, his jawline was taut, the blood droplets on his face like solidified tears.
“You’re really ruthless.” Her voice was shaky.
Zhou Chenwu withdrew his hand and walked towards the team: “Being soft-hearted towards Enemies is being cruel to your own people.”
The wind carried the Blood Smell; Xu Chunhua looked at the corpses all over the ground and suddenly understood how absurd this test of “Good and Evil” was—the so-called “Evil” was the only shortcut to survival. And Zhou Chenwu’s blood-stained fists were, at this moment, grasping a lifeline for them.
