Chapter Thirty: Is It You, or Is It Me? (2/4)

Living Room

Three sofas encircled the table. The television stood before everyone, its screen the focus of their attention. Liu Mengchao watched as scantily clad women emerged one after another from the bathroom, all except for Qi Xiaoxiao and Saeko Busujima. One refused to bathe, Qi Xiaoxiao claiming she wasn’t comfortable exposing herself before others. The other, however, had volunteered to prepare dinner for everyone—a meal that, perhaps, would be the last they’d ever share.

Dinner was sumptuous, the delicious aroma wafting all the way up to the second floor. Soon, the thunder of descending footsteps announced the arrival of Kouta Hirano and Takashi Komuro, who dashed downstairs. Following closely behind was Xu Zhengdong, the chemistry teacher with his signature gold-rimmed glasses. His face wore its usual kindly smile—the sort a teacher might offer during a home visit to the family of a prominent education official.

“Busujima’s amazing—she managed to prepare all this by herself,” Xu Zhengdong remarked. At his words, Liu Mengchao glanced at the clock on the wall: night, 7:25:13.

“We found lots of guns and ammo upstairs,” the otaku Hirano announced gleefully. “American and British models—surviving should be a breeze now.”

Indeed, survival seemed almost easy. Xu Zhengdong nodded in approval, feeling luckier than ever. Had he ended up with the busty Shizuka Marikawa, he might have been abandoned by now. He resolved to strengthen his ties with Hirano. Poor Ye Yutian, stuck with that kind of teammate. The thought of his soon-to-be-dead student brought a gleam of satisfaction to Xu Zhengdong’s face.

Liu Mengchao noticed the smile, and joined in, for the prize pool before him was rising again—not because of the nine people eating dinner downstairs, but due to the three upstairs. Conspiracy always stirs the heart, making emotions surge.

Click.

The balcony door slid open. Li Xin stepped inside, a delicate flush on her cheeks, her spirit evidently lifted. As soon as she entered, Ye Yutian’s nose twitched involuntarily. He disliked that scent; he’d already smelled enough of it.

“Still not sober?” Li Xin sat beside Ye Yutian, soft body sinking into the mattress, her voice and smile both gentle—so gentle it made Ye Yutian want to retch.

“Don’t worry, we’re not blaming you. We’ve arrived at Marikawa’s house, haven’t we?” she whispered, stroking his face with the tenderness of a long-separated lover. “Live well. You must survive. I’ll help you.”

She lifted his face and kissed him, her long lashes trembling in the air, her unspoken thoughts barely brewing beneath the surface.

Do as I say, man. Then go and die.

As long as I, Li Xin, can live, that is enough.

A soft smacking sound—her full, red lips parted from his, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“That senior told me: if we kill the story character we’re paired with, we get the other half of the team points. You’re at minus one hundred now; if you kill Shizuka Marikawa, your score will double instantly.”

“Then it’ll be a positive number. The main god won’t erase me.”

Ye Yutian suddenly laughed, grabbing the bottle at his side. Closing his eyes, he gulped the liquor down; he had no idea how to keep others from seeing through him—everyone now made him afraid. So he used drunkenness as his shield.

A loud smack—Ye Yutian, emboldened by the alcohol, slapped Li Xin’s bottom, laughing as her eyes widened in surprise.

“Everyone’s downstairs now, we…” he began, his hand wandering slowly up Li Xin’s body. He was well-practiced in this—his eyes feigned a drunken haze, but deep within, a sliver of clarity remained.

That clarity fell upon the scattered bullets on the floor—and the Amalitear-110 automatic rifle.

“Now’s not the time. Wait till everyone’s asleep. I’ll be waiting for you on the balcony…” Li Xin giggled, teasingly. For men, what they can’t have is always the sweetest temptation. At the very least, she wouldn’t give in now.

Her red-painted nails slithered up his body like a mischievous snake, pausing beneath his chin before lifting it gently.

“Be good and wait for me.”

With that, she slipped away, her hips swaying like a willow branch in the wind, drifting downstairs. Eyes closed, Ye Yutian listened to the clatter of her heels, and smiled.

He already had the knife in his hand.

He set the bottle—still half-full of whiskey—beside his pillow. More than enough to drink himself senseless. Lifting a corner of the bedsheet, he flattened his feet, walking as quietly as possible: heel first, then the ball of the foot, to keep his steps steady and silent.

Ye Yutian had never trained with any private military contractors. He only knew how to handle guns, and in this world, as long as you had money, everything was possible. He remembered something his family’s bodyguard once told him:

“The first thing most people do with a gun is point it at someone close and pull the trigger. But they forget to take the safety off.”

If they didn’t, he would help them.

His alcohol-soaked body trembled as he reached for the ammunition. The brass casings gleamed dully before his eyes. Liu Mengchao’s words crawled up his back like tiny ants, prickling and tingling.

“I don’t like useless people.”

Indeed, from their first meeting, the most useless person had been that idiot special forces soldier—no brains, and so he died.

He would not be next.

His fingers shook as he gripped the bullet, his right hand trembling on the knife handle. What could you kill with a mere knife? Only fools and failures would try to kill with a knife—just the sort Liu Mengchao would abandon.

Scritch, scritch.

With the knife, Ye Yutian scored a deep cross into the brass casing, exposing the silver lead core within.

At close range, there was no need to aim; once fired, his modified dumdum bullets would kill with a single shot.

Snap.

As he removed the magazine from the gun, the balcony door suddenly swung open. Damn it, he hadn’t made a sound.

A man with shoulder-length hair materialized from the darkness—Makoto Itou. The dim moonlight did nothing to reveal his expression.

“Makoto Itou,” Ye Yutian spat, gritting his teeth.

Makoto didn’t reply, his gaze flitting between the gun in Ye Yutian’s hand and the bullets on the floor.

“You? Or me?”

Makoto looked at the wall clock.

Night, 7:29:59.

Tick, tick.

Time moved forward.

Damn it, what did this bastard mean?

Ye Yutian looked down at the gun in his hand.

Suddenly—he understood.

————————————————————————————————
This was today’s second update.
Starting last night, the app has been acting up—I can’t stand it.
By the way, has anyone used the Qidian mobile app? Not the mobile site, but the app for Android and iOS? I hear it’s much better than the site.
The third update will be at 2 PM. The fourth at 10:30 PM.
I really look forward to Makoto’s performance…
Thanks to Xuan Yuan Killer, Moe Is Justice, Mu Tian Xi Di, Gu Yu Wu Chen, Victorica8, Starry Story, Lord of Reincarnation, and Truth Katyusha for their rewards.