Chapter 60: Stay Calm, I Can Turn the Tables

Chen Fan composed himself and asked, “Are you sure it’s Wang Kehan?”

The Elder packed away the barbecue grill and scratched at the lice behind him. “Probably. To meet all three conditions at once, with the time and place matching up, I doubt it’s wrong.”

Chen Fan hadn’t expected that his casual remark would actually lead to Wang Kehan being taken away by the police. Had he really guessed right, just by chance? He didn’t have time to dwell on it; all he knew was that the feud had deepened. If Wang Kehan truly belonged to that circle, things could get troublesome.

“Should I prepare a coffin?” Chen Fan said, dejected.

“Yes, make it top-grade rosewood. But I doubt you’ll have a whole corpse left. If you need, I can help you get in touch with the funeral parlor,” the Elder replied, lifting his instant noodles for a bite.

Chen Fan shot him a glare. “Is now really the time to be thinking about food? Your host is about to die a hero’s death, and I’ve never seen a system as cold as you.”

“Well, now you have. Life’s full of all sorts of experiences; some things you have to go through once, or you’ll never be rid of regrets,” the Elder intoned, philosophizing deeply before slurping up his noodles.

“Eighteen years of life, meeting you is just my bad luck.” Chen Fan turned the Elder’s card face down, unwilling to look at that gleeful expression.

“Young man, disaster and fortune are intertwined. Don’t be so pessimistic—who knows, things might turn around?” Even through the gap between the card and the table, Chen Fan could hear the annoying sound of noodle slurping.

He looked at the pile of cards at the foot of his bed. “I wish I could tear up all the useless cards, so whatever I draw would be fierce and powerful.”

“Give up. The cards are made of memory material. Even if you shredded and scattered them from a plane, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Whatever. My mind’s a mess, I’m restless, I don’t want to think anymore. I’ll just sleep.” Without taking off his socks, Chen Fan used his foot to shove the Elder’s card back into the deck.

“Aren’t you forgetting something important?” the Elder prompted helpfully.

“Huh, who else can I give it to? Maybe I’ll just give everything to Xiao Yuhe…” Chen Fan blurted out, then immediately corrected himself: “Forget it, forget it, I’ll think about it some more.”

He preferred to aid those in need rather than add to the abundance of those already favored, even though that family had once slapped him.

“What was that girl’s name again?” Chen Fan muttered.

“I think it was Yu Miao. Check your chat history with Li Peijun,” the Elder said, his memory at least reliable enough for the gist.

“Alright, then I’ll give all my merit points to her. Comrade Yu Miao, please accept the organization’s test.” Chen Fan assumed an air of solemnity.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Hurry up, I’m getting ready for bed.” Chen Fan urged.

“I don’t get young people these days. If it were me, I wouldn’t give her a single one.” The Elder pulled out a crystal orb from his sleeve, uncorked a cone-shaped bottle, and poured the liquid onto the orb.

Chen Fan said earnestly, “Because she’s foolish, I’ll reluctantly forgive her this once. It’s not sympathy; it’s just the mercy of the strong for the weak, a pity for those who wallow in self-pity.”

The Elder sneered. “You’ve read too many propaganda books. I don’t see any strength in you, nor do I see her wallowing in self-pity. In fact, the couple seems quite happy together.”

“Happy couples are alike; unhappy couples each suffer in their own way. They only look happy; the crisis hasn’t been solved, just hidden.” Chen Fan, like a great philosopher, prepared to expound his views.

“If you’ve got time for that, you’d be better off preparing a few backup plans. Last time, you fought your way out from a beating, and this time your opponent is just a specialist student. Can’t you show some backbone?”

Chen Fan dipped his index finger lightly on his lips, then smeared it across the Elder’s face.

“Ugh—disgusting.” The Elder reacted swiftly, dodging to safety.

“It’s rare for me to be poetic. Why won’t you cooperate?” Chen Fan pretended to be annoyed.

The Elder refused to play along. “Acting like an idiot, I don’t want to act with you. Go to sleep and check your cards in the morning.”

With a huff, Chen Fan’s nostrils flared like a steam engine. He couldn’t do anything with this guy, so he closed his eyes, refusing to look or think.

“Honestly, you’re something else.” The Elder watched Chen Fan sleep soundly and sighed.

...

“What the heck is a ‘Stalker’? Thief? Burglar? Creeper? Assassin?”

Besides the familiar board cards, most of the others were strangers to him; remembering the name was already impressive, but as for their abilities, he had no clue.

The Elder took off his SpongeBob sleep mask, applied a face mask, and explained, “Its abilities are similar to the Werewolf: laughs at night, idiot by day.”

Chen Fan recalled the feeling of holding the Werewolf card, and his confidence soared—he suddenly felt brave enough to break with the whole world.

“Don’t get ideas. Two machine guns could turn you into a sieve.” The Elder saw through Chen Fan’s thoughts and doused him with a bucket of Antarctic seawater.

“You’re some kind of pervert—how come you know all my secrets?” Chen Fan grumbled to himself. If he couldn’t beat the whole world, he might as well take care of his enemies while he could, lest troubles linger.

“It’s not as simple as you think.” This time, the Elder connected the water pipe, the source being pure, unpolluted Arctic snowmelt.

“This ‘Stalker’ isn’t just a weaker version of the Werewolf, is it…?” Chen Fan muttered under his breath.

“I said it’s similar, not identical. Each card has its own features, each is unique.”

Chen Fan didn’t care about uniqueness; as long as it could save his skin, he’d happily mass-produce paper airplanes.

“Then tell me what makes this card unique.” Chen Fan asked humbly.

“A royal duel—the winner takes all.” The Elder recited slowly. Chen Fan felt his intelligence insulted again, as if playing a shoddy cash-grab browser game.

“So basically it’s unbeatable in one-on-one combat. You young folks love new buzzwords, so I have to keep up with the times. With the Stalker, in single combat, not only little guys like Wei Youlong or Wang Kehan, but even heavyweights like Tyson or the Marines wouldn’t stand a chance—could even take on King Kong or Aliens.”

The Elder’s explanation made it clear: the Stalker is an idiot by day, but at night possesses extraordinary one-on-one abilities—unfortunately, it only works on a single target and can’t be freely switched.

“Then I’ll start with Wang Kehan. Heh heh, pretty boy, prepare for justice’s verdict.” Chen Fan sat cross-legged on the bed, hands on his thighs, like a patriarch passing judgement.

“I’m not finished yet. The duel requires certain conditions.” The Elder poured a bottle of mountain spring water over his head.

“What conditions…?” Chen Fan felt a sense of foreboding.

“By day, you have to attract the target’s hatred; only then can you activate the duel mode at night.” The Elder’s words struck deep, and Chen Fan found even the spring water tasteless.

P.S. Honestly, writing day by day is quite troublesome, since flipping identities daily doesn’t make skipping time easy. In the New Moon Incident arc, hints will emerge before the launch; then I won’t have to write it day by day. Stay tuned.