Chapter 15: Setting Fifteen

Setting Fifteen: The Prisoner and the Prison (Part 6)

Everyone has “weak spots”—some in their ears, some in their palms. For Shan Ziwei, his entire body was a weak spot. Aside from the universal male vulnerability below the belt, the area that could deal him a critical hit was his collarbone.

So it was easy to imagine just how horrified (excited) this particular sufferer was when Siren pressed him down onto the body bag by his shoulders.

Siren leaned over him, his head lowered, his long, deep-blue hair cascading down—and of all places, it landed right on Shan Ziwei’s collarbone, tracing the texture of his skin along with its owner’s hands. Shan Ziwei’s pupils contracted sharply. He tilted his head back and gasped like a fish out of water, inhaling a mix of rancid stench and cloying sweetness. Paired with those rose-red eyes and that seductive smile, it was like seeing grotesque, ghostly flowers blooming amid rotting flesh—layer upon layer, their thorny roots ready to ensnare and devour him.

Panic overwhelmed him. His mind went blank, leaving only the most primal human response to fear.

“Help, help, HELP—!!!”

The desperation in his scream made Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Rice Grain Darling instinctively step forward. Dragon Emperor took one step and stopped, frowning as he studied Siren and the crushed nameplate, calculating the power disparity between them. Rice Grain Darling, less calculating, saw her companion in trouble and hastily pulled out a potion, hurling it at the guard.

“Smack.”

Without even turning around, Siren swatted the potion away like an annoying fly. Rice Grain Darling flinched, dodging the ricocheting bottle, staring in shock at the shattered glass at her feet. Dragon Emperor Unrivaled was starting to waver—he couldn’t Reconnaissance the other’s stats, which meant the guard was at least Bishop-rank or higher. Since that troublesome guard was currently occupied with Shan Ziwei, maybe they should take the opportunity to…

Then Host moved. The black-haired youth neither attacked nor fled—he simply said one sentence.

“I like you.”

Each word was clear, crisp, and impossible to mishear. The morgue fell into an eerie silence. Dragon Emperor Unrivaled’s mouth hung open comically, and even Rice Grain Darling’s cheeks flushed slightly as she looked from Host to the two figures sprawled on the body bag.

#My teammate is in a gay relationship with a guy#
#My other teammate just confessed to that gay couple#
#This circle is so messy#

Shan Ziwei let out a breath. Only he knew Host was trying to save him—his Heart SP, which had nearly bottomed out, had been pulled back up by that one confession. This particular sufferer was moved. Host might seem hard to get along with, but he was actually a good person—not only had he given him Setting Cards, but he was also willing to sacrifice his dignity to help him.

Then Shan Ziwei realized Host’s words had saved him in more ways than one.

“…You like him.”

Shan Ziwei felt Siren’s grip loosen. The guard, who had been ignoring the other players all along, slowly raised his head and looked directly at Host for the first time. His cap cast half his face in shadow, making his eyes look like droplets of blood soaking in black water—utterly chilling.

Even Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Rice Grain Darling, standing only at the edges of Siren’s line of sight, felt a cold shiver run down their spines. Host, standing at the center of Siren’s gaze, simply unclipped the cross-shaped weapon from his neck and attacked without a word!

“Clang—”

Host’s cross-weapon clashed against Siren’s arm with a sharp ring—on closer inspection, it had actually struck the baton strapped to Siren’s forearm. Shan Ziwei scrambled clumsily, finally rolling free of Siren’s grasp and rejoining Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Rice Grain Darling. Dragon Emperor gave him a look, and Shan Ziwei felt a bizarre sense of being choked—why did Dragon Emperor’s gaze seem so strange, like he was looking at some kind of femme fatale…

“Ah!”

Rice Grain Darling cried out. Shan Ziwei turned to see Host sent flying into the cabinets by a single swing of Siren’s baton. He couldn’t believe that slender guard possessed such terrifying strength. Standing amid the body bags, Siren adjusted his cap slightly and looked at Shan Ziwei—now huddled with Dragon Emperor and Rice Grain Darling—his expression utterly blank.

“I see…” He let out a soft sigh. “You chose your own kind.”

“Then there’s no helping it.”

“Holy crap!”

Dragon Emperor Unrivaled was kicked into the pile of corpses. Before he could even curse, he saw Siren’s baton coming down toward his head. At that critical moment, a cross-shaped dart struck Siren’s arm with precision, deflecting the blow and saving Dragon Emperor’s life.

Dragon Emperor scrambled to his feet, drawing his longsword. Together with Rice Grain Darling, they forced Siren back. He glanced over his shoulder—the cross-dart had spun back into Host’s hand. Clearly, the black-haired youth had just saved him. Being saved by someone he disliked left Dragon Emperor seething with frustration. Pushing himself up from the corpse pile, he vented his anger on Shan Ziwei, who had hurried over to help.

“Get your man under control!”

Shan Ziwei froze mid-reach.

“He’s not my man…”

Dragon Emperor shot him a look that said “yeah, right,” then yelped and rolled aside as Siren’s baton came down again. Now it was his turn to yell for help. Seeing Shan Ziwei standing there dumbly, he was so furious his Spade SP (Anger) dropped. “Do something! My Club SP is fully blackened, dammit! This psycho’s damage is insane—”

“I can’t fight,” Shan Ziwei mumbled vaguely.

“The hell—now’s not the time to be gentle!”

“…”

At that moment, Shan Ziwei deeply understood the meaning of “eating bitter medicine in silence.” He would have fought already if he could—but he was stuck with that damned “gentleman uses his words, not his fists” setting.

Siren let out a low laugh, his pleasure undisguised. He was simply too strong—even against three opponents, it was clear to anyone watching that Siren was dominating the fight. Dragon Emperor Unrivaled was the first to lose his nerve. When Siren’s attention was drawn away by Rice Grain Darling, he turned and ran.

“I’m out of here!”

Rice Grain Darling froze. Just moments ago, the three of them had been coordinating just to barely hold Siren at bay. Now with Dragon Emperor gone, Host alone couldn’t stop Siren’s onslaught. She watched the baton descending toward her neck—a blow that would definitely snap it at a right angle—and her breath caught. She instinctively shut her eyes.

“Run!”

The pain never came. Instead, Shan Ziwei’s shout rang out. Startled, Rice Grain Darling ran on reflex without even opening her eyes. Fortunately, she didn’t trip over the body bags. When she finally looked back, she saw the long-haired guard’s attention wasn’t on her—he was bending down to pick something up. She blinked, then blinked again. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was… a bar of soap?

Rice Grain Darling turned back around in a daze. Before her stood two white-haired youths with identical faces—instantly triggering a nightmare she’d rather forget.

Shan Ziwei watched helplessly as the girl fled from him and the mirror image even faster than she’d fled from Siren. He glanced at the image, unable to help wondering—had it done something else to the girl after chasing her? She looked more terrified of it than of Boss Siren.

The mirror image tilted its head in the same way Shan Ziwei did, meeting his gaze—they really were like two sides of a mirror.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Shan Ziwei caught a glimpse of Siren picking up the soap he’d had the image throw, looking at him with an ambiguous smile.

“What did you just do?”

It was Dragon Emperor Unrivaled who spoke—Shan Ziwei wasn’t sure why he’d come back.

“Used a forced-movement item.”

“Do you have another one? Use it again—I have a ‘Snatch’ skill that can grab his keys!” Dragon Emperor’s voice was barely a whisper. “That bastard locked the door. If we get the keys, we can lock him in the morgue!”

Shan Ziwei remembered that Dragon Emperor had the “Robber” setting. He nodded in acknowledgment, and saw Dragon Emperor circle around behind Siren, giving him an OK sign. Shan Ziwei pulled the soap from his Toy Box inventory and was about to have the mirror image do the same trick when Siren spoke.

“You want me to pick up soap?” Siren licked his lips, his voice syrupy and husky like honey laced with sugar. “As long as it’s your soap, I’ll pick it up.”

“…”

Shan Ziwei felt like he was holding not soap, but his own dignity. Even using an item got him harassed by an NPC—how was he supposed to live like this?

Just then, Host silently appeared beside him.

“Give it to me.”

Out of a trust he couldn’t quite explain, Shan Ziwei handed over the soap without hesitation. Seeing Host holding the soap, Siren’s expression immediately darkened. His rose-red eyes deepened to near blood-red, fixed unblinkingly on the black-haired youth.

Host threw the soap without a moment’s pause. Almost simultaneously, Siren dodged the landing spot with near-supernatural speed. But just as the soap was about to—a cross-shaped dart struck it with precision, sending it right to Siren’s feet.

Siren glared at the soap like it was his mortal enemy. Under the compulsion of the game’s rules, he had no choice but to bend down and reach for it. Shan Ziwei stared in awe—he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with Siren’s speed himself.

“Got it!”

Dragon Emperor shouted as he ran toward the door, taking the third bar of soap Shan Ziwei tossed him and throwing it at the right moment—forcing Siren to bend down again.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry—”

“Don’t rush me! I’m looking! Black, black, black…”

Shan Ziwei kept one eye on Siren’s movements while anxiously watching Dragon Emperor fumble through the keys. Dragon Emperor’s hands were trembling; Rice Grain Darling covered her mouth, her heart pounding as if it might leap out of her chest. Host alone remained as taciturn as ever, his gaze fixed on Siren—but then, inexplicably, he frowned.

Shan Ziwei didn’t have time to be surprised by Host’s rare expression before a chill ran down his spine. At some point, a thin mist had begun to fill the freezing morgue. He felt cold—not the cold of the refrigerated air, but the cold of something terrifying awakening.