Chapter 17: Setting Seventeen

Setting Seventeen: The Prisoner and the Prison (Part 8)

[Setting 9: You hate rapists and will kill every rapist you see. (00:10:00)]

Shan Ziwei instinctively looked for Rice Grain Darling. His heart was racing faster and faster, while his body couldn’t stop trembling. The system hadn’t given any new settings since they encountered Siren—and now the first one to appear was forcing them to kill each other. He didn’t know if he was the only one who’d received this setting, or if the others had too. The vast garage had scattered the four of them; Shan Ziwei couldn’t see anyone else.

“Ah!”

Shan Ziwei heard Rice Grain Darling cry out. His heart tightened, and he instinctively ran toward the sound.

After rounding several large and small containers, Shan Ziwei finally found Rice Grain Darling in a remote corner. He seemed to be the last to arrive—Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Host were already standing beside her. Shan Ziwei hesitated and stopped. He first subtly scanned the two males—both looked normal, their expressions giving no indication of whether they’d received Setting 9.

Finally, he looked at Rice Grain Darling. The girl’s face was flushed with excitement. Seeing him approach, she pointed happily at the gasoline bottles beside her. “I found the gas!”

Shan Ziwei couldn’t tell if he was relieved or not. He glanced at Setting 9 again—just over nine minutes left.

It’ll be fine, he told himself. The gas is found. As long as they escaped the prison within ten minutes, he wouldn’t have to follow Setting 9.

“Let’s get the gas over there quickly. The longer we wait, the more could go wrong.” Shan Ziwei urged.

“Okay!”

Rice Grain Darling picked up a gasoline bottle, as if to put it somewhere—then froze.

“This is a special item—I can’t put it in the Toy Box.”

Hearing that, Shan Ziwei took a deep breath and swallowed the “WTF” rising in his throat. This game was unbelievable—the more urgent the situation, the more it dragged them down. Not being able to store the bottles meant they had to carry them by hand to the armored vehicle. And the worst part was that the bottles were tiny—given the size of the vehicle, they’d need every single bottle just to have enough to get moving.

Twenty bottles, four people—three round trips. Shan Ziwei wasted no time and quickly summoned his mirror image.

“Take two bottles and follow me!”

He said to everyone, then grabbed two bottles and ran toward the armored vehicle, racing against the clock. The bottles were a fair distance from the vehicle—Shan Ziwei was practically counting seconds. By the time he arrived with the bottles, another half minute had passed. Looking back, he saw Host following with two bottles, and behind him, Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Rice Grain Darling.

“I’ll fill the tank—you all go get more!”

Host nodded, set down his bottles, and ran back without a word. Dragon Emperor muttered something and headed back with Rice Grain Darling. Shan Ziwei watched the red-haired youth’s unhurried pace with frustration—if his own MP weren’t so low, he’d definitely be the first one running.

Still, this eased his mind somewhat—it seemed Dragon Emperor and the others hadn’t received a Sword of Damocles-like Setting 9. Being singled out for such special treatment, Shan Ziwei began to wonder if he’d forgotten to wash his hands before entering the game—one setting after another was trying to kill him.

8:00, 7:50, 7:40, 7:30…

After what felt like an eternity of silent pleading, Host and the others returned. There were just over 7 minutes left until Setting 9 activated.

“M-my MP is down to 8…”

Rice Grain Darling panted. Everyone started with 100 MP; two trips had nearly drained them. Shan Ziwei, having stayed put to refill the tank, had recovered some MP—not enough for a full sprint, but far better than the others.

“I’ll go.”

“Hey—I’ll come with you!” Dragon Emperor Unrivaled called out to Shan Ziwei as he was about to leave.

“Do you have enough MP?”

Dragon Emperor smirked smugly. “My level’s higher than yours, so my MP is on a different level entirely!”

Shan Ziwei had almost forgotten that Dragon Emperor was a veteran of two Chessboards—mostly because he kept picking fights with Host, who was so unassailable that Dragon Emperor just ended up looking foolish.

“Great—let’s hurry!”

Shan Ziwei was genuinely relieved. His mirror image’s MP was only half of his own; even after some recovery, it was barely better than Rice Grain Darling’s. It couldn’t keep up with him for another run. Dragon Emperor filled the gap perfectly—this round trip would bring back the last four bottles.

So Shan Ziwei left his mirror image behind and ran with Dragon Emperor toward the bottles. On the way, he calculated: this trip should take about two minutes, leaving five minutes—more than enough to drive out of the prison.

Thinking he could perfectly dodge Setting 9 and clear the Chessboard, Shan Ziwei’s spirits lifted. After being screwed over by the system so many times, he was finally going to fight back—just a little.

The gasoline bottles were right ahead. Shan Ziwei took two steps at once and bent down to grab them—then felt a sharp pain in his back.

His already-low Heart SP was fully contaminated in an instant.

“You…!”

Shan Ziwei spun around in shock and anger to face his attacker—but Dragon Emperor Unrivaled tackled him head-on, slamming him to the ground and pinning him down before he could move.

Afraid Shan Ziwei would scream and alert the other two, Dragon Emperor clamped his hand over the white-haired youth’s mouth. He pressed him hard to the ground, using his weight to trap Shan Ziwei’s arms so he couldn’t struggle free. They were pressed flush together—so close that Dragon Emperor could see the disbelief and fury in those dark eyes, along with a trace of something indefinable—panic.

For some reason, that flicker of panic mesmerized him. It magnified his own strength and the youth’s vulnerability, giving his ego a satisfaction he’d never felt before.

“Don’t blame me—blame the system for giving me a ‘kill all murderers’ setting.”

Shan Ziwei froze for an instant, then desperately tried to say something—but with his mouth covered, only muffled sounds came out.

Dragon Emperor misinterpreted his intent and smirked triumphantly.

“You want to say the setting isn’t active yet, right? That’s why you’re a newbie. As your senior, I’ll give you a free lesson—this is a secret not many people know.” Dragon Emperor spoke as if Shan Ziwei was getting a steal. “Role-Play—the whole point of this game is role-playing. The better you play your role, the more settings you follow, the higher your Chessboard rating—even if those settings aren’t yet active.”

The white-haired youth’s eyes widened, looking even more desperate and angry. His pale skin flushed a deep crimson, his gaze fixed on Dragon Emperor with an intensity that was almost scorching. Dragon Emperor looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. But even without looking, something felt wrong—they were pressed together without any gap, and he could feel the rising heat and heaving chest of the person beneath him. Even the palm covering that mouth was met with warm, moist breath—tingling from his hand all the way to his heart. The strangeness of it made him jump back several steps.

“Ah… hah…”

The moment he let go, Shan Ziwei gasped for air. Dragon Emperor inexplicably heard a note of seduction in it. He blinked, cursed himself for overthinking, and quickly closed one eye to Reconnaissance Shan Ziwei’s Heart SP. The feedback showed only 1% remained—contaminated black. Dragon Emperor knew Shan Ziwei was a newbie with no potions to cleanse contamination. In other words, the white-haired youth would be dead in seconds. He felt a flicker of relief—though he couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment that rose in his chest.

But a second could change many things—a word, or a skill.

“Cleanse.”

Dragon Emperor watched helplessly as Shan Ziwei’s Heart SP, down to its last 1%, returned to normal red and stopped dropping. Someone had clearly used a healing skill on him. Dragon Emperor spun around to curse the interloper—but felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. This time, it was his turn to be ambushed.

He staggered forward a few steps and turned to face his attacker.

“…You?!”

At first glance, those golden eyes didn’t register. When he recognized the black-haired youth’s face—the one he hated most—Dragon Emperor’s voice shot up in pitch: “You can heal—”

Host’s cross-shaped short sword silenced him mid-sentence. Dragon Emperor was stunned frozen, his hand instinctively going to his neck. Even though it was just a game, having a blade drawn across his throat was an experience he never wanted to repeat.

Snapping out of it, Dragon Emperor erupted, attacking Host like a madman.

“Die, die, DIE!!!”

He didn’t even bother drinking potions anymore—for every wound he took, he’d land one on Host. Host’s attacks were steady and precise, but not particularly strong. Soon, both of them had their Heart SP fully contaminated—and Host’s was dropping faster under Dragon Emperor’s assault.

Thinking Host would die by his hand, Dragon Emperor’s eyes gleamed with manic excitement. He’d hated Host from the very start of this Chessboard—the guy had been a thorn in his side at every turn. When he’d gotten Setting 9—”kill all murderers”—he’d even felt a pang of regret that it was GFanzi instead of Host… Wait, what was Host’s identity again…?

Just then, Host put away his cross-shaped weapon, returning it to its original form.

And now, everyone could see it clearly: a cross in his hand. Very calmly, he spoke two words: “Cleanse.”

A faint white glow surrounded the black-haired youth, lending him an almost sacred air. In an instant, Dragon Emperor watched all the Heart SP he’d so painstakingly contaminated turn red again.

“You’re a healer…” Dragon Emperor’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with disbelief. (Note: Healer = support class, gaming term.)

At that healing output, he was a pure healer! But nothing about this guy’s earlier behavior had been remotely healer-like! He’d been more aggressive with monsters than a DPS!

Host’s response was to lift his head slightly, revealing those golden eyes. Meeting that gaze up close—even knowing it was just a skill effect—made Dragon Emperor shudder involuntarily. Those weren’t human eyes. Bathed in gold, they looked down on him like a god regarding an insignificant ant.

“——”

Shan Ziwei bit his own hand, using the pain to suppress the lust surging through his body. He’d just been pulled back from death’s door—if he lost control now and died from overexcitement, it would be even more humiliating than dying at Dragon Emperor’s hands.

So he bit down hard, even as his MP dropped from the self-inflicted damage, he refused to let go. Under this self-torture, his Heart SP stubbornly held at 1%.

Only when he was certain the desire had been replaced by pain did Shan Ziwei finally relax. He lowered his hand and turned his attention to the fight between Dragon Emperor and Host.

The battle was nearing its end. Shan Ziwei saw Host say something to Dragon Emperor—the red-haired youth’s face cycled through shades of green and white, staring at Host like he’d seen a ghost, before turning to Shan Ziwei with an expression of utter accusation and collapse.

Huh…?

Before Shan Ziwei could process it, Host took advantage of Dragon Emperor’s distraction to finish off his Heart SP with a few strikes, then used Death Powder to finish off the Spirit-Collapsed red-haired youth.

Shan Ziwei stared in disbelief. Host’s movements were so clean and efficient that by the time he registered what had happened, Host had already killed a player, not a Chess Piece. He stared at Dragon Emperor’s corpse—player death didn’t look much different from Chess Piece death. The only difference, Shan Ziwei thought, was that players didn’t drop chess pieces. But then blue particles rose from Dragon Emperor’s body and coalesced into a Knight piece—white this time.

…A white chess piece?

Suddenly, Shan Ziwei remembered that chess pieces came in two colors—black and white—representing opposing sides. That fit the relationship between Chess Pieces and players perfectly.

But the realization brought him no comfort—only a chill.

In Role-Play, Chess Pieces (NPCs) dropped black chess pieces, while players dropped white ones. It was as if to say that even players were merely pieces on the board.

—Everyone is a chess piece. Who is the player?

Shan Ziwei watched Host pick up the white Knight piece and walk toward him.

“Thank you… for saving me again.”

He thanked Host sincerely. Counting this time, Host had helped him at least three times in this single Chessboard.

Host just nodded, saying nothing—but Shan Ziwei somehow felt he’d heard “you’re welcome.”

“Dragon Emperor Unrivaled…” Shan Ziwei started, then didn’t know how to continue. He was furious at being ambushed, but the whole thing was a misunderstanding. If he hadn’t lied in the first place, Dragon Emperor wouldn’t have come after him. It was an unaccountable mess. He changed the subject: “What did you say to him? At the end there—he seemed really shaken.”

At those words, Host lifted his head slightly, revealing the eyes always half-hidden by his disheveled bangs. They were like a deep, still ancient pool—as if they would pull in anyone reflected in them.

“I told him he killed the wrong person.”

Shan Ziwei’s mind went blank—”boom.” The sheer volume of information flooded his head, leaving him momentarily unable to think. He could only stare dumbfounded as the black-haired youth said softly, “I’m the murderer.”

Host’s voice was very soft—as if aware of it, he leaned in close, his lips almost brushing Shan Ziwei’s ear.

“I hate con artists.”

Shan Ziwei shoved Host away violently, not caring anymore about the “use your hands” setting. Almost mechanically, he looked down—and stared in disbelief at the cross-shaped short sword embedded in his heart.

[Heart SP: 0%]

In an instant, Shan Ziwei’s vision was bathed in blood-red. The whole world seemed submerged in blood—crimson distorting the scene, distorting the black-haired youth’s expression, distorting everything. Amidst that twisted scarlet, only Host’s voice came through—eerily gentle.

“Only I can kill you.”