The teammate of that Zhong Chong didn’t go up to the yacht with him; it was obvious the trouble was caused solely by Zhong Chong, and the spirits were targeting only him. They were teammates in name, but only a makeshift group, and there was no rule forcing teammates to help each other. The man had long suspected that with Zhong Chong’s arrogant, unrestrained personality, trouble was only a matter of time. Losing one or two teammates would mean nothing to him; if there was amusement to be had, he would even watch with interest.

Qi Yang assessed Zhong Chong’s teammate; from the curve at the corner of the man’s mouth he could tell this person was unlikely to help. Since that was the case, he no longer needed to be on guard against him.

These people had formed a team, but their relationships were in reality worse than those of strangers—strangers sometimes still lend a hand.

The drowned spirits sank one by one into the water and soon vanished from sight. Zhong Chong on the yacht thought the ghosts were truly scared and was about to show a triumphant smirk when suddenly the whole yacht began to rock. Zhong Chong thought it was his imagination, but the oscillation intensified sharply.

On the shore, Qi Yang and the others stood almost in a line, watching Zhong Chong’s face on the yacht suddenly change. Although the yacht was secured by a rope, the line had some length. The ghosts beneath the water were pushing the yacht out to sea; the rope was drawn taut in an instant, leaving a two to three meter gap between the bow and the shore. If everything were still, Zhong Chong could easily have jumped across, but now the entire hull was swaying, and the deck and surrounding areas were crawling with bloated drowned spirits. They rocked the boat from below so violently that Zhong Chong could hardly stay standing—sitting without falling was already a struggle.

“Damn it! I don’t believe this—if you think you can flip the boat, wait until I dive in and see if I don’t finish you off.”

At Zhong Chong’s roar, the ghosts paused for a moment. He thought their fear had returned, but the next second the yacht rocked again, even more violently than before.

“They were already dead long ago.” Yang Jiang really disliked Zhong Chong; seeing this swaggering man finally get into trouble made him feel indescribably pleased.

When Zhong Chong heard Yang Jiang, he shot a sharp look over. Yang Jiang became a bit scared, ducked behind Qi Yang, and said, “Brother Qi, protect me.”

Qi Yang glanced back at Yang Jiang. He was almost certain the ghosts had started rocking the boat because of his “thank you.” If he said anything more, what would the ghosts do next? Qi Yang felt a flicker of anticipation.

“Then will you get in the water, or are you scared?” Qiyang’s eyes

sparkled, and on the yacht Zhong Chong’s cheek twitched with irritation at Qiyang’s provocation.

It seemed Qiyang wanted them to push the man into the water. The ghosts below exchanged a glance, then one of them began to climb up, using the bodies of the other ghosts as a ladder. He quietly made his way onto the yacht’s mast; those on shore saw it, but no one warned Zhong Chong.

When Zhong Chong’s arm was seized by the ghost, he was instantly alarmed and tried to shake it off. But the ghost’s hands were like winning claws; before Zhong Chong could struggle free, his whole body was pulled down.

With a splash, Zhong Chong and the ghost plunged into the water. As soon as he hit the water, all the surrounding ghosts frantically swam toward him. Zhong Chong struggled in the water; for the first time he truly felt the terror of death. His earlier arrogance and disdain were gone, replaced only by fear.

Watching the pathetic scene of Zhong Chong on the yacht, Qi Yang felt nothing. Admittedly, this man had brought his downfall on himself, but if he hadn’t harbored ill intentions toward Qi Yang from the start, Qi Yang would have minded his own business too.

Qi Yang’s face remained indifferent. Seeing Qi Yang so calm and cold, Kang Lian suddenly wondered if one day they angered him, would they suffer the same fate as Zhong Chong? Others might not know, but Kang Lian and Qi Yang had been in the game together. She wasn’t sure what Yi Xinming thought, but she vaguely sensed one thing: the ghosts in the game seemed to fear Qi Yang. They were afraid of him.

And just now Qi Yang had even thanked the ghosts; after he did, the spirits seemed injected with adrenaline. Kang Lian even felt that if Qi Yang hadn’t spoken up, the drowned ghosts might not have climbed onto the yacht to drag Zhong Chong down.

Zhong Chong and the ghosts had already sunk beneath the water; the sea was heaving, and it wouldn’t be long before Zhong Chong, like at the hot spring blood pool, would have even his body completely disappear. Kang Lian felt a chill run through her. She tore her gaze away from Qi Yang’s face and watched the spot where Zhong Chong had vanished. Kang Lian asked herself whether she wanted this man to rise again, and she soon rejected the thought.

Kang Lian still remembered something Yi Xinming had mentioned about Zhong Chong: this man had driven and killed several people in the living world, showed no remorse, and even believed he was doing a good deed—those he hit were all poor paupers, and if he gave some money their families should be grateful.

It’s better for such a scoundrel to vanish from here.

Kang Lian admitted that for a moment she was a little afraid of Qi Yang, finding him rather terrifying, but then she thought that to some extent her life was thanks to Qi Yang

Having lived this long, if one day she truly died in front of Qi Yang, she found she felt no fear.

Zhong Chong’s teammate stepped forward; he lowered his eyes to the sea. Several minutes passed and Zhong Chong still hadn’t resurfaced—he was probably sunk to the bottom as a corpse.

Because his teammate didn’t know Qi Yang well and this was their first time together in a game, even though Qi Yang had just said those things, other people might have said the same. The teammate didn’t find it particularly strange.

Zhong Chong was dead; they were one person short. The teammates stepped to the side, putting distance between themselves and Qi Yang — not because they feared him, but because they didn’t want to break some unspoken rule. Qi Yang simply sat down on a patch of grass, his legs dangling over the edge of the shore, refusing to do anything unnecessary, and waited calmly for Qiao Ran to return.

He was certain Qiao Ran would return; after all, he had some discernment and knew Qiao Ran was very interested in this person called Qi Yang. This player had grown a bit curious as well. Qi Yang’s looks needed no introduction—anyone who saw him would remember him forever. His personality, like his appearance, was unusual; no wonder someone in the game could still woo him. Look at that person called Nan Sheng staring at Qi Yang—clearly a loyal dog and a simp.

But judging from Qi Yang’s attitude alone, someone with that appearance—if not everyone, then certainly many—would be pursued by a lot of people; winning his true heart would probably not be easy.

He had no interest in romance, but he was more than happy to watch a spectacle. His personality was somewhat similar to Qiao Ran’s, which was also why they could be teammates.

Qiao Ran dropped Nan Sheng and the others off on the small island; the yacht had its route preprogrammed, clearly the game organizers were very thoughtful, saving them the trouble of having to grope their way across the sea themselves.

Not long after the yacht set out, it kept bumping into things now and then. At first nobody knew what they were hitting. Later they slowed down and proceeded cautiously. When they struck another object, everyone leaned over to look at the water and saw a corpse floating on the surface. The bloated body was swollen all over, the skin puffed and discolored from having been in the water for a long time. At first it didn’t move, but as the yacht drifted past, the dead person’s eyes suddenly rolled and stared straight at everyone on board.

Yi Xinming had also looked outside and was startled by the sudden terrifying scene, while Nan Sheng, as always, didn’t so much as blink.

The floating corpses looked terrifying, but they didn’t seem to attack on their own. Later, Qiao Ran sped up again; colliding with the bodies in the sea didn’t slow him down, and soon he had delivered an entire boatload of people to the small island.

As soon as they landed, the overseer who had been waiting looked over at the players; the players glanced back at him but didn’t move any closer, The group found a place to sit and waited for the people from the next boat.

As Qiao Ran prepared to sail back, Nan Sheng suddenly stepped forward and said he would come along.

Qiao Ran stared at Nan Sheng for a long moment and said, “What will you do if we’re overloaded when we go back?”

“If it’s really overloaded, I’ll stay behind.” Nan Sheng said decisively.

“You said it.” Qiao Ran smiled.

Nan Sheng boarded the yacht and sat down. He and the Supervisor shared one soul in two bodies; a ghost had reported that someone on Qi Yang’s side had fallen into the sea. Since someone had died, naturally there was no longer any question of overloading.

Of course, Nan Sheng wasn’t going to tell Qiao Ran about this.

The yacht headed back, and its return was much faster; it seemed the number of floating corpses had also decreased considerably.

Qi Yang stood for a while and then sat down; his legs were sore from standing. The sound of the sea washing the shore lingered in his ears with a somewhat hypnotic effect. Even though it was still morning, Qi Yang felt a bit drowsy. He closed his eyes and dozed a little, and soon heard the sound of a yacht approaching from afar.

Opening his eyes, Qi Yang looked over and saw a face that was vaguely familiar. The yacht sped over, then slowed as it neared. After recognizing that face clearly, Qi Yang’s mouth curled up a bit.

Nan Sheng jumped from the yacht onto the shore and immediately checked whether Qi Yang was hurt. Qi Yang was unscathed, and Nan Sheng didn’t look around to see who was missing, because he had long known who had been dragged into the sea by the demon. He would never spare someone who targeted Qi Yang—he’d destroy even their soul.

Nan Sheng escorted Qi Yang onto the yacht, careful the whole way, handling Qi Yang like a fragile object. After Qi Yang boarded, he turned to help Kang Lian on; Kang Lian gripped Qi Yang’s hand. Nan Sheng watched the two hands clasped together, a chill flickering in his eyes.

The others also boarded the yacht one after another, and Qiao Ran once again steered the boat to take the players to the island.

The yacht was cramped, everyone squeezed together, and the sea was a little rough. Nan Sheng waited for Qi Yang to lose his balance; soon Qi Yang swayed, and Nan Sheng’s quick eyes and hands steadied him. Once he’d held him, he didn’t let go until the yacht reached the island.

Qi Yang also didn’t let go; being carried wouldn’t cost him anything. Besides, yesterday in the underground passage he’d already had Nan Sheng carry the princess for him, so this was nothing at all.

When they reached the island everyone disembarked. Those who had arrived earlier saw the rest of the players come and the seated ones stood up one after another.

Yi Xinming walked forward and noticed that one person was missing from the later boat. Looking closely he found that Zhong Chong was absent. He wanted to ask Qi Yang what had happened, but Nan Sheng was keeping him occupied, so Yi Xinming turned to ask Kang Lian.

Kang Lian told Yi Xinming everything that had happened not long before.

Ming’s report specifically mentioned that Zhong Chong might have broken the rules, but it didn’t dwell on Qi Yang’s role in it. Kang Lian’s expression was a little strange. Yi Xinming was standing close enough to see clearly and could more or less guess what was going on: those ghosts might actually have been protecting Qi Yang. Just like in the previous round when they reached the school gate — which Yi Xinming had thought about carefully afterward — the way the ghosts looked at Qi Yang was different from how they looked at the rest of them; they clearly dared not touch Qi Yang.

Why exactly, Yi Xinming didn’t know, but he trusted his friend Qi Yang; even if Qi Yang was keeping some things from them, it didn’t matter—they were friends, and that was enough.

Someone suddenly died, and when they learned he had been dragged into the sea by water ghosts, the players who hadn’t seen it with their own eyes looked surprised. Zhong Chong’s former teammates frowned; they didn’t suspect Qi Yang much—after all, Qi Yang just happened to be better-looking, nothing particularly remarkable.

Zhong Chong had cleared so many game rounds, and the number of people he’d trampled on couldn’t be counted on ten fingers; now he’d finally fallen—somewhat of a karmic payback. The teammates didn’t feel much for him, and no one would go avenge Zhong Chong.

“Everyone’s here. How do we get the cards this time?” one of Qiao Ran’s team asked.

All eyes turned together, looking at the Overseer.

“Five hours. Stay on the island for five full hours, then come to me to collect a number card!” the Overseer said, taking two steps aside. A small table appeared behind him, with a glass bottle the players knew well on it, containing several small cards.

“This simple? Can’t we just find any place to sleep?” one player said.

The supervisor looked at the man, his gaze laden with meaning, as if to say you can pick any spot you like and see if you can manage to sleep for five straight hours.

“Anyway, we have five hours. There’s nothing to do by staying here—why not go explore the island?”

Qiao Ran made a suggestion.

Someone immediately voiced a concern: “What if there’s something on the island—what if we go in and can’t get out?”

Qiao Ran turned to look at him and smiled. On his handsome face there was no trace of fear, only a faint excitement.

“If there’s a threat, eliminate it. Take a step back—do you really think staying here keeps you safe? Maybe those drowning ghosts would have crawled ashore already; didn’t someone here just experience that?”

“There was also one person in my team who died.”

“Or do you want to give it a try? Then stay.” Qiao Ran said, glancing sideways at Qi Yang; it seemed this place hid quite a few rules,

so Qiao Ran had reason to believe that staying on the beach for five hours would actually be more dangerous.

As for the island’s jungle, Qiao Ran had no fear of the already dead corpses; by comparison, the living were the ones to be wary of—people like him, for example.

Qiao Ran’s four teammates basically followed wherever he went.

Qiao Ran didn’t force the others to stick with him; he turned and started walking into the island.

For Qi Yang, it didn’t matter where he went. Now he could be certain of one thing: these players were no longer to be feared. If anyone tried to hurt him—even if they hadn’t actually done it yet, even if they hadn’t truly harmed him—there would be plenty of spirits ready to crawl out and help him.

It was as if he truly had some special status—so much so that even spirits would protect him.

Waiting five hours on the beach was, of course, possible, but the moment Qi Yang set foot on this island he was suddenly captivated by the natural beauty before him.

In the real world there wouldn’t be many opportunities to visit an island like this; while others struggled to survive, Qi Yang felt as if he were on a leisurely outing.

He wanted to go onto the island to see what scenery was inside.

“Going in?” Yi Xinming asked in a hoarse voice; the wound on his cheek still hurt. Though not as painfully as yesterday, it still affected him.

“Yeah, we’ve come this far; it wouldn’t feel right not to go in and take a look.” Qi Yang’s eyes shone brightly as he stared at the small island surrounded by green woods, clearly full of anticipation.

“Is it true that something bad will happen if we don’t go in?” Yang Jiang asked softly.

Qi Yang didn’t turn to look at him; his attention was entirely on the little island.

Standing to Yang Jiang’s right, Kang Lian bit her lip and picked up his words: “Most likely. You saw what happened earlier — those swollen ghosts can crawl ashore from the sea.”

“At that time that person had broken some rule, so the ghosts only attacked him. If he hadn’t left and had stayed on the beach, I think they might have crawled out again.”

Yang Jiang was usually a pretty brave person, but when it came to ghosts and monsters, he was scared. So far, although following Qi Yang and the others hadn’t been without danger, it had always ended without serious harm. Thinking it over, Yang Jiang returned to his old idea: he should hold on tightly to Qi Yang’s thigh.

“Then I’ll go in,” Yang Jiang said. He didn’t want to see those ghosts whose whole bodies were swollen and bloated anymore; just the thought of them made his skin crawl.

The remaining players, it could be said, weren’t stupid to have survived this long; some things only take a moment’s thought to understand. Waiting on the beach was clearly not a good plan, and besides, everyone else was heading toward the path into the island.

The head felt fear toward the unknown ahead, but the water ghosts in the sea were equally terrifying.

It was possible the island was actually safer — nothing was certain — in any case, they couldn’t stay on the beach.

The players one after another walked onto the islet.

None of Qiao Ran’s group were seriously injured, so their pace was especially quick; in the blink of an eye it seemed they had vanished.

Qi Yang and the others walking behind them paused. Yang Jiang stared at the spot where Qiao Ran and the others had disappeared and said in puzzlement, “Why did they walk so fast? Do they hope something will happen to us?”

From Yang Jiang’s point of view, that’s exactly how it looked.

“Let’s rest a bit.” Qi Yang said to Yi Xinming. You could see a thin sheen of sweat on Yi Xinming’s brow. They found a relatively open area nearby. Qi Yang himself didn’t sit down, since they’d only been walking for just over ten minutes and had kept a slow pace.

Yi Xinming sat down in a spot where leaves had piled up; he had brought water when they set out, and he twisted off the cap and took two sips.

Qi Yang’s water was being held by Nan Sheng; Nan Sheng handed the water to Qi Yang, and Qi Yang took it into his hand.

So far there hadn’t been much out of the ordinary on the little island; it was like an ordinary jungle. The only difference was that when Qi Yang looked up at the sky, there didn’t seem to be a single bird call.

This was a ghostly world — even if there really were birds, they probably wouldn’t be alive.

“Hey, so what should we eat for lunch?” Yang Jiang stopped and looked around, seemingly not sensing any lurking danger. They had been traveling since morning and it had been a while; it would be about time for lunch soon. Yang Jiang remembered that on the first night here someone had their stomach gutted because they hadn’t eaten. Surely things wouldn’t be the same for them here.

If they didn’t eat lunch, would their stomachs be gutted too?

Thinking this, Yang Jiang felt a phantom pain in his abdomen and pressed his hand against his belly, rubbing it.