Free Web NovelIn fact, it was not that Miao Feichi could only think of Mu Shicheng.
First of all, Bai Liu had only cleared two games, and he had never joined a guild. Even if he was a control-type player, he should not have had many players under his control.
After all, inside the Game Lobby, forceful control-type skills were ineffective. That meant Bai Liu could only develop his “downlines”—no, partners—inside games.
But Bai Liu had only entered two games in total. His first had been a single-player game. In his second multiplayer game, the only people he had controlled were Du Sanying and Mu Shicheng.
However, Du Sanying had clearly stated after leaving the game that he had already broken free from Bai Liu’s control. With that absurdly high luck value of his, he always found a way out of desperate situations. No one was surprised that Bai Liu had failed to control him for long.
As for Liu Huai and Fang Ke, Bai Liu had controlled them through Zhang Kui. Once Zhang Kui died, the two of them had also slipped from his grasp.
That left only Mu Shicheng, who was still publicly known to be under Bai Liu’s control.
So when it came to Bai Liu’s partners, the first person Miao Feichi thought of was naturally Mu Shicheng.
There was another reason Miao Feichi cared about Mu Shicheng.
Mu Shicheng had tremendous potential, and the judgment priority of his skill was extremely high. Miao Feichi was not exactly afraid of him, but players like Mu Shicheng—fast, agile, and equipped with strong judgment—were annoying to deal with.
In a direct fight, Mu Shicheng would not gain any advantage over Miao Feichi. But handling him would still be troublesome.
That Thief’s personal skill had very strong judgment. If he entered the game together with Bai Liu and risked his life to protect him, then with his movement speed and high-priority aggro-drawing judgment, he could cause considerable trouble even for a high-speed attack-type player like Miao Feichi.
After all, Mu Shicheng had once relied on that very same judgment priority to steal an item from Spades, the player with the highest attack value in the entire game.
No high-speed attack player liked Mu Shicheng. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Miao Feichi included.
Earlier, when registering at the Love Welfare Home’s reception desk, Miao Feichi had specifically checked whether Mu Shicheng’s name was listed there.
It had not been.
But Miao Feichi’s trust in information written down by players themselves was limited. He had to confirm it with his own eyes.
As for Liu Huai and Liu Jiayi’s identities, Miao Feichi had already confirmed them with Liu Huai in the cafeteria. Liu Huai was, after all, a player from the King’s Crown guild. In the absence of any necessary conflict of interest, Miao Feichi would not deliberately make things difficult for him.
Likewise, Liu Huai would not deliberately refuse a small request from a player ranked higher than Zhang Kui, such as confirming his identity.
Inside the game, the fastest and most direct way to confirm a player’s identity was to check their system panel.
Liu Huai had directly shown Miao Feichi his system panel, which displayed his secondary identity line: his younger sister, Liu Jiayi.
But that method was not always completely reliable, especially when facing a player like Bai Liu, who possessed control-type skills. So Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang had verified it from multiple angles. They also had Liu Huai use his personal skill and checked certain internal information from the King’s ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) Crown guild before finally confirming who he was.
There were six players in total in Love Welfare Home.
Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang occupied two slots.
Liu Huai and his sister occupied two more.
Bai Liu occupied one.
That left only one player unaccounted for.
Miao Feichi narrowed his eyes.
“Are you really not Bai Liu’s partner—Mu Shicheng?”
Hearing this sudden turn in the questioning, Mu Ke shook his head in confusion.
“I’m not. I’m just an ordinary player.”
The balance tipped toward [Truth] once again.
Miao Feichi said, “Open your system panel. Let me see.”
Mu Ke obediently opened his attribute panel and showed Miao Feichi everything, even allowing him to inspect his warehouse.
He had no personal skill. Although his attribute panel was not low—it was C+—that was still far too weak compared to Miao Feichi.
His warehouse was full of miscellaneous junk: a flaming torch with only a dozen or so minutes left, school notes, bundles of rope, a keyboard missing one keycap, and a siren statue.
“Looks like he really is an ordinary player,” Miao Gaojiang concluded after watching Miao Feichi make Mu Ke adjust the panel several times.
Miao Feichi clicked his tongue.
“Didn’t they say Mu Shicheng was controlled by him? Why didn’t he come along?”
“Mu Shicheng is a thief. He has plenty of channels for disposing of stolen goods. It wouldn’t be strange if he managed to get his hands on some item that let him break free from Bai Liu’s control,” Miao Gaojiang said, unsurprised.
Besides, if Mu Shicheng was not here, things would be much easier for Miao Feichi.
Listening to their conversation, Mu Ke lowered his head and clenched his fists.
Mu Shicheng was much stronger than him.
Strong enough that even these two top-tier players were wary of him.
If Mu Shicheng had accompanied Bai Liu into this game, Bai Liu would never have needed to take such a risk.
Mu Ke knew very clearly that he could not compare to Mu Shicheng in any way.
Because he did not have a personal skill as powerful as Mu Shicheng’s, he would always lag behind him in development.
But he simply could not accept that.
He could not accept that Bai Liu trusted him so much, yet he still had not grown into someone capable of helping Bai Liu the way Mu Shicheng could.
No one had ever been willing to place this much hope in Mu Ke before.
Because Mu Ke was sick.
Even if he could do nothing, that was fine.
So placing expectations on him had always been considered a burden.
A waste.
But Bai Liu would say:
You have to do it.
I believe in you.
And I will assume, with one hundred percent certainty, that you can.
Miao Feichi still wanted to ask more, but Miao Gaojiang stopped him.
The older man crouched down, placed The Judge’s Balance in front of Mu Ke, and looked at him with a seemingly kind, half-smiling expression.
“There is one final question left for this balance. I’ll ask it now. You didn’t lie for the first two questions. I hope you won’t lie for this one either.”
His tone was slow and incisive.
“Are you a player controlled by Bai Liu?”
Miao Gaojiang had gone straight for the most critical question.
This old fox was wary of the possibility that Mu Ke, an ordinary player, had already been controlled by Bai Liu before entering the game.
Mu Ke forced himself not to look away.
He raised his head and looked at Miao Gaojiang. His hands were braced against the ground, still trembling. The sensation of cutting through Bai Liu’s skin and flesh kept replaying in his mind, making his breathing grow rapid and unsteady.
He could not lie.
The balance would not make a mistake on such a simple question.
He was indeed controlled by Bai Liu.
If the lie was exposed, both he and Bai Liu would be finished.
Mu Ke drew in a shaky breath.
“...I am a player controlled by him.”
The balance trembled twice along the center line before slowly tilting toward [Truth].
Miao Feichi narrowed his eyes and raised his twin blades, ready to finish off this player controlled by Bai Liu.
Mu Ke’s tears fell instantly.
“But I’ve already broken free from his control! I stabbed him while he was being attacked by the monster and escaped! I came out to ask for help. After he was badly injured by both me and the monster and lost consciousness, it seems he couldn’t control other players anymore.”
After saying that, Mu Ke opened the personal section of his system panel. With tear-filled eyes, he raised it for Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang to see.
“You can check my panel. There are no control skills from anyone on me anymore. I’ve already broken free.”
Normally speaking, when a player was under another player’s control skill, their personal panel would display the status:
[Player XX is under Player XX’s control.]
But Mu Ke’s personal panel had no such status.
It was completely clean.
Because Bai Liu was not “controlling” Mu Ke.
He had become more like a behind-the-scenes guide, similar to the system itself, so naturally nothing appeared on Mu Ke’s personal panel.
After checking Mu Ke’s panel, Miao Feichi hesitantly withdrew his weapons.
But Miao Gaojiang did not believe Mu Ke so easily.
He stood beside Mu Ke, narrowed his eyes, and asked suspiciously, “But as an ordinary player, how did you have the courage to resist Bai Liu and even steal his things? He was, after all, the second-place rising star last round.”
Mu Ke bit his lower lip. His eyes quickly filled with tears again.
He sniffled.
“Because I don’t want to be controlled by him. I hate Bai Liu very much.”
Mu Ke’s reaction made Miao Feichi immediately sense a highlight for the show.
Bai Liu was a player who had surged to second place on the rising star ranking in only his second game. He was extremely topical. Even during the support season, the intensity of his fans’ charging was no weaker than that of star players from some smaller guilds.
For instance, if it really came down to charging support, Miao Feichi’s own numbers might not even compare to a dark horse with such fierce momentum as Bai Liu.
That irritated Miao Feichi.
Bai Liu was rising too quickly.
If this kid really entered the league next year and teamed up with Mu Shicheng, they would definitely shine on the field and cause him plenty of trouble.
One of the reasons Miao Feichi had chosen to target him was because Bai Liu was simply too enviable, too hateful—especially to “edge” players like them in league team battles.
The charging points Bai Liu had earned last round were enough to make even Miao Feichi, who had already played professionally for a year, feel jealous.
It was like professional athletes in reality envying internet celebrities who earned more than they did—especially when they knew that same internet celebrity would be competing on the same stage next year, and their own fans might not even be able to beat the other side’s.
With his narrow-minded temperament, Miao Feichi had chosen without hesitation to use his strength to bully the newcomer.
Top-tier professional players, such as Queen of Hearts and Spades, did not bother competing with newcomers over something like this. They spent more of their energy training for team matches.
Only someone like Miao Feichi, who had no real hope in team matches and only had a two-person match to show for himself, would take this kind of sensationalist route.
A player like Mu Ke—someone who clearly had history or a grudge with Bai Liu—was like gossip material. Black material on a star player.
To some extent, it could affect Bai Liu’s charging support rate.
Miao Feichi wanted nothing more than to disgust the audience watching in front of the small TVs and smear Bai Liu’s reputation.
“You hate him?” Miao Feichi’s interest was immediately piqued. “Why?”
The ruthlessness in Mu Ke’s eyes hid beneath his tearful gaze.
He choked, crying out the despair he had been suppressing all along. Tears streamed down his face, yet his words carried a faint, childish grievance.
“He almost made me kill the most important person to me with my own hands. That’s why I hate him so much now!”
He cried so pitifully that even with his Slender Man-like face, he somehow inspired sympathy.
Miao Feichi could not help asking a few more questions.
“Is this a grudge from the real world?” Miao Feichi asked, raising an eyebrow.
The balance’s three questions had already been used up.
Mu Ke let out a quiet breath of relief. Maintaining his expression, he gave an extremely realistic sob and replied, “Yes.”
Miao Feichi wanted to keep digging for dirt on Bai Liu, but Miao Gaojiang nudged him, signaling for him to focus on the game first.
Miao Feichi stood up, his interest fading.
“It’s only a Level 2 game. During the league, we’ve played Level 2 maps with high-level opponents countless times. What are you so nervous about?”
“You’re Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang, right?”
Mu Ke stole a glance at the two of them.
Then he braced himself on a chair, presented Siren’s Bone with both hands, and lowered his head in a deeply respectful manner.
“I know you want to kill Bai Liu in this game. I’m willing to hand over everything I obtained to you, as long as you’re willing to take me with you to kill him.”
“Even if you didn’t hand them over, we could still take them from you. Giving them up just proves you know your place.”
Miao Feichi casually accepted the bone whip Mu Ke offered as tribute and gave it a careless swing.
A crisp crack rang out against the floor.
But it did not leave so much as a scratch.
Miao Feichi frowned.
“This whip is ridiculously awkward to use. In the game, its attack judgment was supposedly even stronger than Mu Shicheng’s, so why can’t it deal any damage?”
The whip stained with Bai Liu’s blood felt dull and lifeless in his hand. When it struck the floor, it carried none of the sharpness Miao Feichi had expected. Instead, it felt like a rusted blade left to decay for years. Even the fishbone barbs were no longer sharp; their hooked tips curled inward as though ashamed of themselves.
Miao Feichi flicked the whip twice before using a scouting item to confirm it was indeed the Fishbone Whip. Then, losing interest immediately, he tossed it into his inventory and sighed theatrically toward the invisible audience watching the livestream.
“You see? The item everyone was hyping up is honestly pretty average. Let’s hope the Ghost Mirror performs better once it’s fully assembled.”
Miao Gaojiang and Miao Feichi continued talking among themselves.
Although they had accepted the Siren’s Bone Mu Ke offered them, neither of them truly regarded Mu Ke as important.
“You can only kill the Bai Liu here in the hospital at most, right?” Mu Ke suddenly spoke, forcing himself to interrupt and draw Miao Feichi’s attention.
He looked up at him.
“But Bai Liu still has fifty percent of his health attached to the child in the welfare home—Bai Six.”
“If that child doesn’t die, Bai Liu won’t die either. But investors can’t freely enter the welfare home. Do you know how to kill Bai Six?”
Mu Ke paused briefly before continuing with certainty:
“And more importantly, you don’t know what’s happening with your own children in the welfare home, do you? But those children are carrying fifty percent of your health.”
Both Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang fell silent at the same time.
It was an extremely realistic problem.
Their own strength was indeed overwhelming.
But their children’s strength was not.
And those children carried half their health while they themselves knew almost nothing about the situation inside the welfare home.
Miao Gaojiang had not received a single phone call from his child last night.
Miao Feichi had received one from Xiao Miao Feichi, but the boy had been running around in utter chaos. Children had far too little obedience. No matter how Miao Feichi threatened, insulted, or coaxed him, the child had simply cried hysterically before hanging up.
He had gained no useful information at all.
Forget killing Bai Liu.
At this point, Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang had not even properly explained the children’s main storyline tasks, let alone made those little brats obey orders.
“Last night and this morning, my child called me,” Mu Ke said carefully. “I was pretty brave when I was little, and he listens to me very well.”
In reality, it was not his child at all.
Mu Ke had been timid as a child too.
The brave one was Bai Liu’s child.
At present, the only player who had received two calls from their child—totaling thirty minutes of conversation time—was Bai Liu.
Judging from Bai Six’s description of last night, Miao Feichi should have been the only other player who received a call, and even that conversation had clearly gone badly.
After all, Xiao Miao Feichi had run back crying not long after making the call.
Since no one else had received any calls, Mu Ke lied without even blinking.
“I have a very important piece of information that can be used against Bai Six. My child can also help us understand what’s happening inside the welfare home.”
He raised his head.
“He can even kill Bai Six under my instructions.”
Miao Gaojiang stared at Mu Ke for several seconds.
Mu Ke controlled himself perfectly—even his breathing remained steady. His eyes did not waver in the slightest under Miao Gaojiang’s scrutiny.
“Fine. We’ll take you along.” Miao Feichi was the first to relent. “It’s not like I’ve never carried low-level guild players before.”
He withdrew his twin blades and hauled Mu Ke to his feet.
“Just stay obedient behind us and don’t cause trouble.”
Miao Feichi licked his teeth and revealed a disturbingly twisted smile.
“We’re not letting either Bai Liu survive. That includes the little Bai Liu in the welfare home.”
His grin widened.
“Of course, the smaller one tastes better. The best food should always be saved for last.”
“Right now...” Miao Feichi narrowed his eyes lazily. “Let’s deal with the older one in the hospital first.”
Before entering the game, his audience had apparently “charged” tens of thousands of points specifically to watch him eat at least three pounds of Bai Liu.
Mu Ke watched as Miao Feichi headed straight toward the ICU.
His heart instantly leaped into his throat again.
Remembering the plan Bai Liu had discussed with him beforehand, Mu Ke forced himself to calm down and silently followed behind Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang.
At that moment, the hospital elevator lit up.
It descended directly from the seventh-floor operating room to the first floor.
The elevator doors slid open slowly.
Several nurses rushed out pushing an emergency bed.
A figure lay motionless atop it beneath a blood-soaked white sheet.
The investor’s eyes were tightly closed. His complexion was deathly pale, and his hands rested neatly folded over his body, making him look almost like a corpse prepared for burial.
The moment Mu Ke saw the blood saturating the sheet, his legs nearly gave out beneath him.
His face turned completely white.
For an instant, he almost lost control and nearly called out Bai Liu’s name.
The white sheet covering Bai Liu was drenched crimson.
Two nurses pressed tightly against the source of the bleeding—his neck, most likely. Blood dripped steadily from the edges of the sheet onto the floor below.
Drip.
Drip.
A trail of scarlet stains stretched behind the moving bed.
The nurses looked tense and frantic as they shouted for people to clear the way.
“Massive hemorrhaging! Emergency patient!”
“Prepare the ICU ward immediately!”
“The bleeding has been temporarily stopped, but the patient has lost too much blood! Did he find his medication?”
“If he had medication sustaining him, his condition would be much more stable!”
“No! He’s a newly admitted patient from yesterday!”
Mu Ke panicked completely.
Subconsciously, both his gaze and his footsteps followed the emergency bed.
Then—
He saw Bai Liu’s fingers.
Pale and slender beneath the sheet, they briefly flickered into view as the bed jolted forward. Hidden between those fingers was a strange object.
The instant Mu Ke recognized it, his breathing stopped.
His mind snapped back into perfect clarity.
He immediately opened his system warehouse to check.
Sure enough—
Someone had touched his keyboard.
The three missing keycaps from before—[1], [0], and [7]—had all returned.
But now the [Enter] key was missing instead.
And moments ago, Mu Ke had clearly seen that very key clamped between Bai Liu’s index and middle fingers beneath the sheet.
In computer language, the Enter key meant:
[Execute Command.]
Literally, it also meant:
[Enter.]
Bai Liu was telling him—
[Continue executing the plan. Enter Room 107.]
Miao Gaojiang was far more observant than Miao Feichi.
When he noticed Mu Ke looking at his system panel, he immediately leaned over to inspect it.
But Mu Ke merely appeared to be checking his inventory.
His items were all shabby and unimpressive.
Aside from the Siren statue—which was at least somewhat useful, though still only a common skill item—there was also a broken keyboard missing a keycap.
...Had this keyboard only been missing one key before?
Miao Gaojiang frowned slightly in confusion, but his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Miao Feichi had already tried to force his way into the ICU twice, only to be sternly blocked by the nurses guarding the ward.
Clicking his tongue irritably, he fixed a gloomy stare on Bai Liu, who was now connected to a ventilator inside the ICU.
“Too many NPCs guarding the place,” Miao Feichi muttered. “Can’t get in.”
“Wait for the shift change,” Miao Gaojiang said calmly.
“When I explored the map earlier, I snuck into the nurses’ station and saw the duty schedule. Between 8:45 and 9:00 tonight, the day-shift and night-shift nurses rotate. Security around the ICU should be weakest during that period.”
“Then we wait until tonight.” Miao Feichi sheathed his blades lazily, looking disappointed. “Thought I’d be eating him for lunch. Didn’t expect him to turn into a midnight snack instead.”
The two of them spoke about breaking into the ICU as casually as if they were entering an ordinary ward.
Neither seemed remotely concerned about the monster-like patient inside.
Which was actually understandable.
Both Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang possessed extremely high attribute panels.
Miao Gaojiang reminded him, “We’ll probably have to fight monsters tonight. Check your personal panel and refill your mental and stamina values. We only have half our health right now, so don’t get careless.”
As he spoke, he opened his own system panel and began consuming high-grade mental bleach and physical recovery agents.
“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Miao Feichi responded dismissively before scoffing, “It’s only a Level 2 instance. The monsters here are A+ rank at most. Even with half health, we’ll clear it easily.”
Still, he casually opened his own system panel as well.
Neither of them bothered hiding their stats from Mu Ke.
After all, most players’ panels were public to viewers anyway—especially for players with powerful attributes like theirs. Showing off their strength was one of the methods they used to attract audiences.
And thanks to that carelessness, Mu Ke managed to catch a glimpse of both their personal panels.
[Player Name: Miao Feichi]
[Physical Value: 780]
[Agility: 1793]
[Attack: 3900]
[Resistance: 1400]
[Player Miao Feichi’s total attribute score exceeds 8000. Rated S- rank.]
—
[Player Name: Miao Gaojiang]
[Physical Value: 1980]
[Agility: 1300]
[Attack: 2000]
[Resistance: 4300]
[Player Miao Gaojiang’s total attribute score exceeds 8000. Rated S- rank.]
Mu Ke’s heartbeat accelerated violently.
He quickly looked away, pretending he had seen nothing.
Both of them were actually S-rank-minus players.
No wonder they had not taken the ICU patient seriously from the very beginning.
Even the Thief Brothers, who had nearly pushed Bai Liu and the others into a dead end in the previous instance, had only been A+ rank monsters—and those had already been considered the hardest monsters in a Level 2 dungeon.
But these two players were S- rank.
Even if they could not instantly one-shot the monsters here, they fundamentally existed on a completely different level.
No wonder Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang had remained so calm and leisurely ever since entering the game.
The monsters in this dungeon simply posed no real threat to two S- rank players.
After killing Bai Liu, they could casually go back and complete the storyline tasks. At worst, it would cost them a little extra time.
There was no danger to their lives at all.
But the opposite was not true.
For Bai Liu, this meant that inside this Level 2 dungeon, there were not only monsters capable of threatening his life—
There were also two players even more terrifying than the monsters themselves hunting him down.
And what made things worse was that the two S- rank players chasing him had attribute panels that complemented each other almost perfectly.
Monsters at least had weaknesses.
But judging from their stats and personal skills, Mu Ke honestly felt that Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang had almost none.
Miao Feichi’s defense was slightly weaker, but his attack output was terrifyingly high. Combined with the amplification from his personal skill, even a normal strike could deal close to three thousand damage. His speed was also absurdly fast. Ordinary A-rank monsters would likely die within two or three hits from his twin blades.
Meanwhile, although Miao Gaojiang’s attack output was lower, his defense was monstrously high.
Even if Miao Gaojiang simply stood still with all his defensive skills activated and allowed the younger brother from The Last Train to Blast Off to repeatedly use the ultimate attack that destroyed the entire train carriage, it would still take at least five or six hits to deplete his health bar completely.
On top of that, once his mental value dropped, Miao Gaojiang would enter a breakout state specifically to protect Miao Feichi.
He was known in the league as the number one “Daddy Tank.”
In simpler terms—
Either one of these two could kill Bai Liu effortlessly.
If this had been a standard confrontation-type dungeon with an open map and unrestricted PvP, Bai Liu would probably have “died on spawn.”
GG the moment he entered the game.
Of course, Love Welfare Home was clearly not that kind of dungeon.
The NPCs here imposed countless restrictions on players, and the existence of the “child-version players” who shared half the health pool created additional complications.
As a result, an aggressive confrontation-type player like Miao Feichi—who had spent months adapting to direct PvP maps for the league—felt noticeably constrained here and struggled somewhat with the rhythm of the dungeon.
But they were still experienced veterans who had climbed their way up from the bottom.
Very quickly, they grasped the underlying rules of the instance.
Throughout the day, Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang searched the entire hospital for the Life-Saving Remedy.
Veteran players naturally thought similarly to someone like Bai Liu, who practically thought like a game designer himself. There was no way experienced players would honestly sit there reading books according to the system prompts.
And since they were not afraid of the monster-like patients in the wards at all, they simply barged into the rooms to investigate directly.
Like Bai Liu, they also believed the Life-Saving Remedy mentioned by the system was hidden somewhere inside the patient wards.
Unfortunately, after forcibly searching almost an entire floor of rooms, the two of them were reported by other patients.
The hospital staff accused them of disturbing normal patient rest and forcibly confined them to their own wards until dinnertime.
Even players like Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang could not openly defy NPC rules.
Because once NPCs developed hostile behavioral tendencies toward players, those NPCs gained the authority to restrict player movement.
[System Notification: Nurse NPCs are extremely dissatisfied with Player Miao Feichi and Player Miao Gaojiang’s repeated disruptive behavior. They issue a warning that further violations will result in both players being prohibited from leaving their rooms tomorrow.]
Thus, Miao Feichi had no choice but to return to his ward.
But this was far from the first time he had enraged NPCs.
Which veteran player had not driven NPCs to the verge of exploding before?
So neither father nor son appeared particularly concerned. They even chatted leisurely while walking back to their rooms.
Mu Ke silently followed behind them.
The two did not deliberately avoid him while talking, nor did they intentionally take care of him either.
To Miao Feichi, Mu Ke seemed no different from a stray cat or dog tagging along behind them.
Miao Gaojiang spoke thoughtfully.
“There are twenty-one wards on one floor. Before the nurses caught us, we managed to search all of them. The bookshelves in the rooms of long-term patients are definitely older than the shelves in our new-patient wards.”
“And the more severe the illness, the older the books and the more annotations inside them.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“I think the probability of finding the Life-Saving Remedy there is very high. The problem now is the nurse NPCs.”
“Yeah.” Miao Feichi clicked his tongue irritably. “We can’t take the books out of the wards, and we can’t stay inside too long either, or the nurses will catch us.”
“A whole bookshelf...” Miao Gaojiang frowned deeply. “Even if the notes point us directly toward the Life-Saving Remedy, there’s no way we can finish reading all those books and identify the important clues before the nurses arrive.”
He had fallen into the exact same deadlock Bai Liu had encountered earlier.
“So many books...” Miao Gaojiang muttered. “Even with notes, it would still take me more than a full day just to skim through them, let alone identify the relevant clues.”
“But the nurse NPCs catch up within ten or twenty minutes.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“What I need is an empty ward where I can remain undisturbed for more than a day. Somewhere with those old bookshelves where nurses won’t kick me out for disturbing patients.”
For the Miao father-and-son duo, who possessed overwhelming combat strength, the answer was obvious.
The two exchanged a glance.
Then Miao Gaojiang decisively said:
“Kill one of the monster patients and free up a ward.”
“New patients are admitted every afternoon. Since it’s already afternoon now, killing one immediately will buy us exactly one full day before another patient moves in.”
“That’s enough time to go through every book on the shelf.”
Standing behind them, Mu Ke lowered his head.
The moment he heard Miao Gaojiang casually discussing killing a patient to vacate a room, his breathing unconsciously stalled for several seconds.
But he quickly regained his composure.
Hidden beneath the Slender Man-like disguise, a dark, unreadable emotion flickered through his eyes.
His wrists trembled faintly.
So did his breathing.
He was afraid.
Afraid of the overwhelming power possessed by the enemies standing before him.
The monster patients that he and Bai Liu could not possibly confront head-on were treated by Miao Gaojiang as something disposable—something that could be slaughtered casually.
That immense disparity in power made Mu Ke shudder uncontrollably.
And it also made him resent himself.
Even resent Bai Liu.
He resented Bai Liu for so recklessly entrusting his own life to someone weak and unreliable like him.
He resented his own weakness—his insignificance, like an ant that could be crushed at any moment.
He resented Bai Liu for being too trusting, too reckless, forcing him now to walk a tightrope where a single wrong step would kill them both.
For several seconds, Mu Ke desperately wished he were Mu Shicheng.
If all this crushing pressure had fallen upon the old Mu Ke—the one who had just entered the game back then—he would definitely have broken down sobbing from fear already.
He had originally been nothing more than a fragile little shàoyé who relied on others for protection.
Yet Bai Liu constantly, mercilessly, coldly forced him to shoulder responsibilities far beyond his limits.
Earlier, when Mu Ke had nearly killed Bai Liu himself, he had sat in that pool of blood on the verge of insanity.
His eyes had gone blank.
He could not even cry.
For a moment, he had genuinely believed Bai Liu’s madness had driven his mental value below sixty, causing him to hallucinate—
The motionless Bai Liu lying in blood.
The Siren’s Bone covered in crimson in his own hands.
But Bai Liu had not died.
And Mu Ke had not gone mad.
Exactly as Bai Liu had expected, after being pushed to the absolute limit, Mu Ke’s mental resilience rapidly stabilized.
Bai Liu was no longer here beside him.
If Mu Ke did not want to die, then he could no longer rely on Bai Liu.
In fact, Bai Liu’s life now depended on him.
So this pampered little shàoyé, faced with the crushing pressure of standing against two S- rank players, did not cry in fear.
Nor did he mentally collapse.
He merely pinched the tiger’s mouth between thumb and index finger on his trembling hand again and again, constantly adjusting his breathing—forcing himself to remain calm and rational the way Bai Liu always was.
Mu Ke.
He repeated it over and over inside his heart.
You have to save Bai Liu.
If you lose control, both of you will die.
So you absolutely cannot lose control.
Even if the opponents are two S- rank players.
You still cannot lose control.
You must win.
Just like that bastard Bai Liu said.
Win against players at the S- rank level.
“If the more severely ill patients are more likely to possess clues about the Life-Saving Remedy...” Mu Ke finally adjusted his breathing and inserted himself into the conversation between Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang.
The first sentence still sounded slightly dry from tension.
But by the second, the hoarseness had vanished completely.
His voice became calm, steady, persuasive.
Almost frighteningly similar to Bai Liu’s.
Mu Ke looked directly at Miao Feichi.
“Then following that logic... wouldn’t killing the patient in the ICU give the highest probability of discovering the Life-Saving Remedy?”
Miao Feichi glanced sideways at Mu Ke and let out a half-mocking snort, clearly unwilling to take the opinion of an ordinary player seriously.
Professional players generally carried a certain arrogance toward ordinary players.
They might carry them.
But they rarely listened to them.
Someone like Miao Feichi, whose pride practically touched the sky, was even less likely to value Mu Ke’s suggestions.
Miao Gaojiang appeared much more approachable on the surface.
Though indifference still lingered in his eyes, he explained patiently:
“We won’t kill the ICU patient. Bai Liu was moved into the ICU today, which means there are more nurses there than usual.”
“And since we don’t know how the nurse NPCs would react to a patient being killed, we won’t risk something so likely to attract attention.”
“It’s not just that,” Miao Feichi added lazily after seeing Miao Gaojiang respond.
“The ICU ward is the place most likely to contain the Life-Saving Remedy. But even if the patient there dies, ordinary patients like us still wouldn’t be allowed to stay inside long.”
“New patients would move in almost immediately.”
“At most, we’d only have the fifteen-minute nurse shift change at night to sneak in.”
He scoffed.
“Fifteen minutes. There’s an entire bookshelf in there. Even if I brought a camera, I still couldn’t photograph every single page in time.”
Miao Feichi cast Mu Ke a mocking glance.
“What, do you think this thing can magically take pictures for us? In fifteen minutes, there’s no way to record a whole shelf of—”
“In fifteen minutes,” Mu Ke interrupted calmly, “if there are notes, I can finish reading and memorizing every book on that shelf.”
Both Miao Feichi and Miao Gaojiang paused simultaneously.
Miao Gaojiang turned to look at Mu Ke more carefully.
“I remember you don’t have a personal skill.”
“This isn’t a personal skill,” Mu Ke lied without changing expression. “I was born this way. I remember things very clearly.”
Then he looked directly at them.
“If you’re confident you can crush anything here anyway, then why not fight the ICU patient instead?”
“The probability of finding the Life-Saving Remedy there is the highest.”
Mu Ke stepped forward.
His gaze was sincere.
Earnest.
And his tone carried a subtle, almost dangerous kind of temptation.
“As long as you bring me along...”
“I can help you identify the clues to the main storyline within fifteen minutes.”
