Chapter 058: Confrontation Among Players

The man disguised as Eri Oohashi wore a twisted expression, thrusting the military dagger viciously into Su Cheng’s lower back. The lower back is one of the body’s critical points—even for someone with superhuman constitution, a ruptured kidney means instant incapacitation, if not certain death.

A sickening squelch echoed in the cramped bathroom as the blade sank into flesh. Grinning menacingly in a woman’s nightgown, the man twisted the dagger with brutal force.

But in the next heartbeat, he sensed something amiss. From the wound burst forth a viscous, oil-like torrent of crimson blood, spreading unstoppably across the bathroom floor. It was as if Su Cheng’s body held an endless supply of blood—the puddle reached up to the man’s ankles.

Could a human bleed so much? At this rate, even an elephant would have died long ago from blood loss.

“Something’s wrong. This is an illusion,” the man known as the Thousand-Faced Player realized. Quickly, he pulled out a small bottle of crystal-clear liquid and smeared it over his eyes.

In an instant, the vision changed. The gory scene and Su Cheng vanished altogether.

He was gone!

A jolt of panic struck the Thousand-Faced Player, and then he felt a sudden chill at his neck—a cold, long blade now rested against his throat.

“A professional with disguise abilities? How many of you are there, and where is Eri Oohashi?” Su Cheng asked, eyeing the would-be assassin with curiosity.

His adversary’s skills went far beyond mere disguise; he could alter his physique and scent at will. If Su Cheng hadn’t noticed in time, he might have been done for.

The Thousand-Faced Player, his neck pressed by the blade, gave a cold, fearless laugh. “That girl is in our hands. If you lay a finger on me, she’s dead for sure.”

No sooner had he spoken than a sharp pain shot through his right hand—the one clutching the dagger. Blood spurted from his wrist as his hand was severed cleanly.

“Argh! You lunatic! Freak!” he howled in agony, glaring at Su Cheng with venomous eyes, a flicker of terror and dread lurking deep within.

He hadn’t imagined Su Cheng would so brazenly disregard the hostage’s life and strike without hesitation.

A cruel smile twisted Su Cheng’s lips. “Heh. Who’s the real freak here? Who sneaks into a man’s bathroom dressed as a woman to scrub his back?” He watched his captive like a predator considering where next to cut.

He was no fool. Eri Oohashi was a vital character in the story—these players would guard her like a precious panda; they wouldn’t dare harm her.

“Answer my questions. For every useless word, I add another cut. Let’s see how long you last.”

A shudder ran through the Thousand-Faced Player. Anyone who survived a horror game wasn’t to be trifled with—this man meant what he said and would follow through. Only now did he regret approaching Su Cheng alone, arrogantly placing himself in mortal danger.

“The girl is with our Crimson Tide Squad. I’m the team’s frontline fighter.”

Crimson Tide Squad? Never heard of them.

“How many are in your group? When did you start targeting me?” Clearly, they must have been watching him for some time; otherwise, it was too coincidental for them to have kidnapped Eri Oohashi while he slept.

The Thousand-Faced Player hesitated, torn between loyalty and self-preservation—then, feeling another sting at his throat as Su Cheng’s blade cut him again, blood pouring out.

Afterwards, Su Cheng even kindly wrapped a tourniquet around his neck.

“Damn bastard,” the assassin spat through clenched teeth. Su Cheng’s kindness was no mercy—he just wanted to keep him alive long enough to extract all the squad’s secrets.

“I have plenty more tourniquets. Trust me, you’ll wish you could die, but you won’t.”

Cold light glinted in Su Cheng’s eyes. He had always focused on advancing the story, neglecting the other players in the instance. In this points-based ranking battle, his greatest threat wasn’t the infected, but these professional players with formidable abilities.

“There are six in our team. We had our eyes on you from the moment you left the research facility.”

Just then, the Thousand-Faced Player took advantage of Su Cheng’s distraction, pulling an engineering grenade from his pajamas and lobbing it.

That bastard had a bomb!

Outside the hostel, a van sat idling on the street. In the passenger seat, a woman with dyed blond hair shifted uneasily.

“What’s taking Thousand-Face so long? Don’t tell me that knife guy found him out,” she muttered. She’d warned him that their target was a tough one, but he’d insisted on going alone, leaving her and the bespectacled corpse-controller on standby.

“With his skills, Thousand-Face shouldn’t be discovered so quickly. But that man is strong—it won’t be easy,” the man with glasses replied.

Suddenly, a violent explosion rocked the hostel. A man in a woman’s nightgown hurtled through the air, crashing onto the van’s windshield with a sickening thud.

“Damn, we’ve been found!”

The blond woman’s pupils shrank to pinpoints as a man in a demon mask strode out of the hostel, blade raised, blocking their escape.

“The Demon—it's him!”

Recently, Su Cheng’s battle with Kazama Haoh had become a sensation on the game forums; someone had given him the nickname “The Demon.” The blond woman had seen the video and immediately recognized Su Cheng behind that murderous mask.

Kazama Haoh was a seasoned professional whom even the superguilds courted; whoever could defeat him in the arena was no pushover.

Regret flared in her heart—she should never have let the Thousand-Faced Player go alone. If the three of them had attacked together, they might have stood a chance.

But now, discovered by Su Cheng, she doubted they could kill him at all.

“Go! Let’s regroup with the leader before facing the Demon again!”

She ignored the Thousand-Faced Player’s fate, slammed the gas, and ran over him as the van barreled straight for Su Cheng.

Sidestepping the oncoming van, Su Cheng leapt onto his motorcycle and gave chase.

Eri Oohashi wasn’t in the van—she must be with their leader.

According to the Thousand-Faced Player’s confession, the squad possessed an item that blocked detection, which was how they had managed to spirit Eri Oohashi away right under Su Cheng’s nose.

In the dark night, the morning star shone above Tokyo’s neon-lit streets, the air heavy with the scent of blood and rotting corpses. Shadowy, monstrous figures shambled through the city like demons risen from hell.

With a thunderous crash, the van mowed down a dozen zombies, sending them flying.

Behind them, Su Cheng pursued like a relentless hunter.

“Damn, he’s catching up!” the bespectacled man shouted, using his necromantic ability to command nearby zombies to throw themselves at Su Cheng in waves.

Riding his motorcycle, Su Cheng drew the “Shadow of the Gale.” His long blade sliced through the dense night—several grotesque heads flew, spraying black blood.

But with the bespectacled man’s command, more and more zombies converged, forming a wall of flesh that blocked Su Cheng’s path.

“What a troublesome ability. Bai, your turn.”

If he didn’t deal with the bespectacled man inside the van, Su Cheng would be buried alive under endless zombies.

At that moment, a pale figure, invisible to the human eye, slipped into the van.

“Well done, you’ve stalled him,” someone inside was saying.

“I’ve contacted the leader—he’ll be here soon. That’ll be the end of this guy,” the blond woman declared confidently, just as something seemed to seep from the van’s roof. A viscous drop landed on her forehead.

Blood?

Why was there blood in the van?

Suddenly, as she drove, the blond woman saw a ghastly face pressed against the windshield.

It was covered in crisscrossing scars, as if someone had carved it into pieces and glued it back together with industrial adhesive.

The face glared with wide, dead eyes, staring straight into the van.

Horrifyingly, it passed through the glass, looming inches from her own.

Overwhelming terror flooded both the blond woman and the bespectacled man.

“A ghost!”

The nightmare vision vanished. The van, out of control, crashed headlong into a city bus, crumpling the front end.

Free from the zombie horde, Su Cheng approached the wreck. He dragged out the two survivors.

The bespectacled man, whose abilities were mental, not physical, died instantly in the crash. The blond woman survived, though badly wounded, her face pierced with shards of glass.

“Where is the girl you kidnapped?” Su Cheng pressed his blade to her throat, his voice cold as ice.

“Bastard... let’s die together,” she laughed brokenly, suddenly gripping the blade and spitting out a needle-thin poison dart.

But as she struck, Su Cheng’s figure flickered—he was behind her in an instant.

His blade gleamed cold as it pierced her throat from behind.

“Red Moon will never forgive you!” she spat, eyes wide with malice, as if to drag Su Cheng to hell with her.

He withdrew his blade. Suddenly, her phone rang.

Su Cheng picked it up and answered.

“Wasp, is the target dealt with?” croaked a hoarse voice.

After a moment’s silence, Su Cheng spoke into the phone. “Your subordinates are all dead. Get ready—I’m coming for you now.”

Without waiting for an answer, he tossed the phone to the ground and crushed it underfoot.