Most players assumed that checking in at the hot spring meant simply reaching it, but the pool of blood before them hardly looked like a completed check-in.

Looking at the seven people who had arrived earlier, if they had already checked in successfully they would have left long ago. Yet each of their faces showed little relaxation. Although the others didn’t know the specifics yet, it was obvious that this check-in differed from checking in at a tourist spot in the real world.

“How do you check in?” Perhaps because she was grouped with Qi Yang and had seen death almost every day in the last game, Kang Lian’s heart had given a sharp jolt at the sight of the blood-filled pool. Fearful but still rational, she asked.

The seven fell silent, no one spoke, as if deliberately withholding information. Kang Lian thought of the hot spring attendant who had led them into this enormous pool of blood and turned her gaze toward that attendant.

The attendant saw that a player seemed about to ask a question; he stepped forward two paces, ready to prompt, when suddenly someone walked out from the other side of the spring. The man wore a business suit, neat and clean, his clothes well-tailored, looking as if he were ready at any moment to attend a corporate meeting. The players were surprised, but a few of them looked different—because they all recognized who the man opposite was.

“Welcome everyone to the Seven-Day Travel Game. First, I would like to apologize.” The Supervisor wore an apologetic expression; his smile made Qi Yang raise an eyebrow. The Supervisor lifted his eyes to Qi Yang, his gaze tinged with something strange. His eyes shifted left again, where another person stood, a face completely unlike his—yet they were actually the same person, one soul in two bodies.

“Who are you? What apology?” the player Yang Jiang asked warily.

“I was supposed to arrive yesterday, but something came up at the last minute and I was delayed. As a result, a few players died unexpectedly last night—my fault. Please forgive me.”

“Since most of you haven’t met me yet, I’ll introduce myself. I’m the overseer of this game. My surname is Fu—Fu Mingnan. I’ve made a few minor changes to the rules; I will be supervising this game in person. Don’t worry, I only supervise—I won’t interfere with your clearing of the game.” Fu Mingnan wore a friendly, affable expression, but there was no warmth in his eyes. He looked human, but in essence he was not.

“Supervisor? This is the first time I’ve seen one!” Qiao Ran, the most handsome of the seven seated in the middle, said. His phoenix-like eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the Supervisor. As for the death last night that the Supervisor mentioned, Qiao Ran later had someone from the team investigate. That person found bloodstains on the clothes the boss had worn—clearly the boss had been the one close to the deceased. Normally in such death incidents NPCs wouldn’t intervene directly, so why the boss would take action now—Qiao Ran thought it over and over and felt there was only one possibility.

It seems he’s not the only restless one.

“One more question: from what you just said, do you mean you’ve already met some of us?”

Qiao Ran grabbed onto a few pieces of information.

“I supervised the last round of the game.” The supervisor didn’t specify who those people were.

But when Qiao Ran shifted his gaze slightly, he could more or less guess who they were.

The Overseer smiled, letting others scrutinize him sharply. He pointed to his side, where he had miraculously placed a small glass vial. Inside the vial were several cards, each one marked with the number 1.

“Just take a card and it’s counted as clocking in successfully,” the Overseer announced loudly.

“This… doesn’t seem too hard, just walk over from here,” the curly-haired player said, the corner of his mouth twitching. He seemed to try to laugh to ease his terror, but because his facial muscles couldn’t be controlled properly, the smile looked grotesquely distorted.

“Heh! Walk over? If you can walk over by yourself I’ll call you ‘Big Brother’.” Zhong Chong, shirtless, sneered contemptuously at Juanfa’s words.

The player looked at the other, suddenly mocked, anger flaring up in his chest.

“It’s just flowing blood, what’s so scary about that? I’m not like you lot who faint at the sight of a little blood. This pool is just blood, there can’t possibly be anything else in it.” The curly-haired youngster looked young, his face still smooth with a few noticeable pimples. He liked to talk big; it was just a throwaway remark, but to his surprise Zhong Chong and the others around him wore expressions as if watching a show.

It didn’t sound like he was faking it. The player suddenly grew nervous; he swallowed and turned back to look at the viscous pool of blood. The water gave off a pungent metallic stench. Unlike an ordinary hot spring where you can see the bottom from the shore, the blood was too thick to make out anything beneath.

“N-no way, it can’t really be something in there, can it? Like… what? It can’t be a human corpse?” The curly-haired boy’s earlier swagger deflated in an instant.

Qiao Ran’s phoenix-like eyes were tinged with a smile. He raised his hand to give a signal, and a very tall, gaunt player beside him—so thin he looked as if he might fall apart—walked to the edge of the blood pool holding a branch. The lanky man bent over, dipped the branch into the pool, and stirred it gently twice. Before the player could even step back, something began to happen in the blood pool.

Something was rising up from under the water. Everyone around Qi Yang was so frightened they hurriedly backed away. Yi Xinming also pulled Kang Lian back a step. Qi Yang didn’t retreat, but in an instant a figure appeared in front of him—Nan Sheng, who had been behind him, stepped in front of Qi Yang.

Staring at the broad, solid back of the man before him, Qi Yang’s eyes darkened slightly.

Qi Yang thought Nan Sheng was afraid he would be hurt, but in truth Nan Sheng knew the danger beneath the water couldn’t harm Qi Yang. Without his permission, anyone who tried to lay a hand on a single hair of Qi Yang would face severe punishment. He stepped forward only because he didn’t want blood splattering on Qi Yang.

This blood is too filthy. Qi Yang and the child in his belly are both Nan Sheng’s treasures; his treasures must not be defiled by anything.

Nan Sheng blocked part of Qi Yang’s view. From the staccato gasps all around, Qi Yang knew something terrible was clawing its way out of the water. He shifted his body slightly to the left and his field of vision widened. Right where a player had stirred the surface with a branch, a bloodstained skull emerged. The skull slowly rose out of the water, its bone dyed a deep red by fresh blood. Beneath it was a skeleton whose body still bore scraps of tattered clothing, as if, before the skull died, its flesh had been torn and gnawed by some horrifying thing.

The one that surfaced was only the beginning; one skeleton after another rose up. The bones seemed almost alive, their blood-streaked skulls turning to look at the players on the shore, while skeletons shuffled slowly forward, reaching the shore and stretching out their blood-stained bony hands to grab at the players’ feet.

The player wasn’t touched, but was so terrified that he plopped down on the ground.

“How are we supposed to check in for this? This is basically trying to kill us. What kind of game is this—who designed a segment like this? Do they just want us all to die?”

“Damn it, who came up with this sick game? How are we supposed to get over there to check in? It’s impossible!”

One player was losing his temper, shouting at those around him. Fu Mingnan at the check-in point opposite looked indifferent, watching the players argue.

The sound was too harsh; Qi Yang frowned. Everyone in front of him was focused on Qi Yang. Nan Sheng reached out to smooth Qi Yang’s brow. Qi Yang had been thinking about how to wade through the blood pool full of skulls and bones to retrieve the number card, so he hadn’t paid much attention to Nan Sheng. When the other’s fingers touched his brow, Qi Yang was slightly startled.

But Nan Sheng withdrew his hand quickly; Qi Yang’s eyes merely flickered, and he didn’t ask why.

Checking in was definitely required; if they didn’t check in, the task wouldn’t count as completed. Qi Yang himself, because of some unknown peculiarity, probably wouldn’t get into trouble, but Yi Xinming and Kang Lian couldn’t be guaranteed the same.

If everyone here got hurt and he alone remained safe, with all the rest depending on him — Qi Yang wasn’t afraid of being alone. His mind went back to a night in the middle school dormitory and the words the man in his dream had told him: to really enjoy the game.

In the game he was different from the other players; he could hardly feel much fear anymore. Given that, he had thought carefully about what the other person said and realized he could indeed adopt a different mindset.

Clearing levels in a game gives a certain sense of accomplishment; life in the real world is ordinary, but in the game it’s much more abundant. Since nothing would happen to him anyway, why not just enjoy it?

Qi Yang thought this and stepped forward. He wanted to get some information from Fu Mingnan. Just as he was about to ask, a strong stench of blood and rot hit him. Qi Yang clamped his hand over his mouth and nose, but it seemed to do little good—the foul smell had already entered his body and waves of nausea came. He thought he could hold it back, but in front of all the other players and the overseer he began to vomit from pregnancy.

He retched violently; the sound alone made people’s hearts tremble. Some had just been sickened by the blood in the pool, and now hearing Qi Yang’s sounds made them want to vomit again.

The players didn’t know the truth and assumed Qi Yang was having an ordinary bout of vomiting. The two bosses, as the fathers of the child, knew Qi Yang’s condition better than anyone.

Qi Yang felt the world blur, and then two hands steadied him—belonging to two different people. He glanced left and right; their appearances were different, but at that moment their expressions were identical, full of concern for his condition.

“How are you? Feeling unwell?” the two asked in unison. After asking, they glanced at each other; several other gazes in the vicinity turned toward them, as if everyone was surprised by the scene.

Fu Mingnan let go of Qi Yang’s hand, ignoring the many odd looks around them. He flickered and returned to the far side of the pool.

Nan Sheng held Qi Yang in his arms, gently rubbing his back. Qi Yang vomited for a while; his lips went numb, and nothing came up—only dry retching.

She rested in Nan Sheng’s arms for a moment, then Qi Yang signaled Nan Sheng to let go. He looked toward the overseer opposite them, moving his lips before speaking to dispel some of the numb, sour feeling.

“…Is there a rule that only one person can pass at a time?” Qi Yang spoke, his voice a little hoarse.

Fu Mingnan shook his head; seeing Qi Yang’s complexion recover somewhat, the worry in his heart eased a bit.

“There isn’t a clear rule,” Fu Mingnan said.

“Just need to get the card?” Qi Yang’s questions all hit the crucial points.

Fu Mingnan nodded: “Yes, taking one is considered a success.”

“Is there any restriction on the way you go over? Or is it enough as long as you get there?” Qi Yang and Fu Mingnan began talking; each question he asked made the smile in Fu Mingnan’s eyes grow a little wider.

“There are no restrictions, just go past it.”

Other players noticed Qi Yang’s situation. At first they thought he was wasting his effort, but as the conversation went on, the looks the players gave him gradually began to change.

“Since this is a hot spring, I assume there must be things like float boards or life rings; if not, we’ll find some planks. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand steadily when we leave.” Qi Yang’s mind raced; almost instantly he came up with several feasible ideas.

“Maybe. For the specifics, I think the staff here would know better than I do.” This time Fu Mingnan’s answer was not entirely certain.

Qi Yang listened, then looked at the staff member beside him.

The staff member quietly glanced toward Nan Sheng. Although Nan Sheng was concealing some of his aura, the presence he gave off made it clear to anyone who encountered him that this was not a player but a high-up—someone like an overseer.

Seeing Nan Sheng say nothing, and since this situation had never arisen before, the staff member wanted to ask Nan Sheng or that overseer what to do, but now was clearly not the time. He followed his own judgment: since this person was someone the top boss cared about a great deal, it couldn’t hurt to go along with him.

“Yes, there are floating boards and life rings.” the staff replied respectfully.

Qi Yang’s mouth curved for a moment. “Xinming, find two people to go along.”

Yi Xinming didn’t argue. After all, if the roles were reversed, his mind definitely wouldn’t turn as fast as Qi Yang’s. Qi Yang trusted him to handle the matter, and Yi Xinming was more than happy to be the errand-runner. He also recruited a few other players and, with them, went to pick up the tools. As he turned to leave, Yi Xinming suddenly understood a little why Du Yong admired Qi Yang so much. Someone so outstanding made it hard not to be convinced—if Qi Yang were a woman, it would be easy to fall for him.

Of the seven people who had arrived earlier across from them, not to say all but the majority, most seemed very surprised. The problem they’d been wrestling with for so long had been solved so effortlessly by Qi Yang, and several of them looked a little embarrassed.

But these people were used to wielding power; even if Qi Yang had found a possible way to move forward, they still wore that smug, arrogant look, as if everyone else existed to serve them and be their stepping stones.

Qi Yang glanced at them coolly; there are bad people everywhere, it’s just that this game magnified some people’s wickedness. After all, there are no laws here, and whatever sense of morality exists depends entirely on the individual.

Yi Xinming and his group were quick; in a few minutes they brought three kickboards and several life rings to shore, but as soon as three of the kickboards arrived, people from the group of seven snatched them away.

The men who grabbed the boards said “thank you” as they spoke, but there was no gratitude on their faces—utterly pure thieves.

“The kickboards were ours; what do you mean by just taking them?” Yi Xinming, who had his taken, couldn’t swallow that indignation.

“You’re just running an errand — how much? I’ll pay you ten times that when we get back.” Shirtless Zhong Chong’s eyes gleamed with menace as he smiled the threat.

Yi Xinming was so angry he laughed. He clenched his fists, wanting badly to fight the bandits in front of him, but he controlled himself in time. He still knew how to size up the situation: although they outnumbered these men, every one of them was strong and sturdy, and if a fight broke out he would most likely come off worse.

Qí Yáng wasn’t particularly surprised that the floating board had been snatched away—villains being utterly villainous was only to be expected.

The floating board was tiny, not even a square meter—practically useless to hold on to; a life ring would have been better. Staring at the pool of thick, sticky blood, Qi Yang pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to wade into it. The whole pool gave off a metallic stench, and the thought of that blood smearing his skin, that tacky sensation, made him uneasy; he even felt a faint pain in his abdomen. He wasn’t particularly fastidious, but since becoming pregnant some of his daily habits had unconsciously changed.

Qi Yang considered how to cross to the other side without getting blood on him.

While Qi Yang hesitated, some members of the seven-person group had already entered the water.

The seven of them went in together; none were light, so no one could sit on the floatation board. They all clung to it, as if using it to steady one another. After getting into the blood pool they slowly made their way toward the glass box on the opposite side. The holes in the blood pool bobbed to the surface one after another when the seven went under; bone-claws began to reach out to grab their shoulders and arms. Each of the seven held the board with one hand while using the other to push and kick away the corpses on and around them.

This method seemed workable, but a sudden change soon occurred. When the seven people reached the middle of the pool, more than half of the surrounding skeletons had submerged into the water. The blood-red water was murky, hiding the bottom from view. Under the blood, the skeletons grabbed hold of someone’s legs together. That person’s face turned pale with alarm as he shouted, “They’re grabbing me underwater, they’ve got both my legs, I can’t move.”

“Quick, help me, kick them away!”

“Ahhh!”

After the other six companions learned what was happening, they didn’t speak. They exchanged a look, and the two companions standing next to the player whose feet had been grabbed immediately reached out—not to pull him free, but to coldly shove him away. The player’s face went pale with shock; he clearly hadn’t expected to be pushed. He could no longer steady himself in the water and pitched backward, headfirst, into the bloodied water.

Countless hands grabbed the player’s body around him and dragged him into the water. None of his six former companions showed any guilt; they pushed him and then turned away.

They didn’t stop. While the skeletons surged to the drowning player and began to tear him apart, the six walked quickly forward. The first half of the way faced little obstruction, and in an instant they stood in front of the glass case.

In the bloody water behind them, one spot churned violently; something beneath seemed to be making sounds. Because it was underwater, the noises were faint and indistinct—someone’s screams, the snap of breaking bones, the sound of chewing. Then some crimson flesh floated up: fresh chunks of meat. The pieces spread out with the ripples on the surface. Some players who hadn’t yet passed out vomited into the corner at the sight. Qi Yang felt nauseous too, and before he could throw up, a slightly cold hand covered his mouth.

“Don’t look.” Nan Sheng’s gentle whisper drifted over. Qi Yang’s eyelashes fluttered. Feeling a slight itch in his palm, Nan Sheng restrained the urge to kiss Qi Yang’s hair. He stared at the six people before him, his gaze darkening.

The six waited to take the cards. One of their companions had been eaten by the skeleton—no one showed any change in expression; all were indifferent and cold.

“Congratulations to all six.” Fu Mingnan smiled in welcome to them and gestured for them to take the cards.

They reached out to take the cards. Zhong Chong tried to take more—his character was extremely vile—but he was stopped by Fu Mingnan, who pressed on Zhong Chong’s wrist. His smile never wavered, but his eyes suddenly turned hard and fierce.

Zhong Chong had to let go, taking only one card. He turned and stepped aside, rubbing his wrist; his bones felt like they were splitting, the pain sharp.

The six each took a card. They didn’t leave, but instead moved to the side and crouched by the pool, watching Qi Yang and the others across from them. The six wore similar expressions, looking forward to the show.

Qiao Ran’s smile was the brightest among them, his almond-shaped eyes sparkling.

“There’s buoyancy in the water. Sit on the lifebuoy and I’ll push you over.” Nan Sheng had originally intended to carry Qi Yang, but that might reveal something, and since someone had already demonstrated a way, he chose a different approach.

“Even with buoyancy, it probably wouldn’t be enough to support my weight.” Qi Yang thought this method wouldn’t work.

“Then add two more. You sit on the lifebuoy and we’ll push you over.” Nan Sheng couldn’t bear to let Qi Yang go into the blood pool; Qi Yang might vomit even worse. Hearing Qi Yang retch made Nan Sheng’s heart clench—though that heart had long since stopped beating, dead and cold for a hundred years.

“This plan sounds fine to me. How heavy can you be? With your weight I can just carry you over.” Yi Xinming cut in, saying what Nan Sheng had wanted to say. Two cold, dark gazes fixed on him as if he didn’t realize he was walking the edge of death. Yi Xinming stepped up to Qi Yang and bent down as if to actually lift him.

A hand pressed down, pinning Yi Xinming. Yi Xinming glanced sideways at Nan Sheng; a flash of murderous intent crossed the man’s eyes, but then his expression changed, almost making Yi Xinming think he’d misread it.

Yi Xinming laughed inwardly.

“Qi Yang, you aren’t well, so don’t go into the water.” Kang Lian didn’t want to be left alone. She didn’t feel entitled to special treatment just for being a woman—being alive was privilege enough for her.

Instead, it was Qí Yáng — someone like him deserved to be cherished, and he had helped her a lot; she ought to do something for Qí Yáng in return.

“Can we join too? I wonder if that’s okay?” Yáng Jiāng now thought Qí Yáng was very clever; someone that smart he really wanted to join his team.

“Sure, the more the merrier.” Yì Xīnmíng noticed the few people approaching and sized them up. He nodded in agreement first.

Some of the other players had thought about joining too, but the image of the person who sank into the water and never came back up stayed in their minds, and they instantly froze.

The rest still wanted to wait and see, convinced there might be a better way, so they stood there motionless.

Yi Xinming had his staff fetch more rope and used it to bind the three lifebuoys together; with Qi Yang sitting on top while they lifted from the sides, his body wouldn’t come into contact with the bloodied water.

Once everything was ready they didn’t wait for the other players. Yi Xinming went into the water first. The still-warm blood was unusually viscous; it soaked through clothing and stuck to the skin, and the sensation was extremely unpleasant—Yi Xinming almost couldn’t hold back and rushed straight for the shore.

Over there Nan Sheng stepped out of the pool; the blood had no effect on him at all. His expression remained as calm as ever, his gaze fixed on Qi Yang. Kang Lian also entered the water, and four other players followed. Qi Yang was the last to go in, and seven people used their hands to lift the lifebuoy; Qi Yang slowly sat down on it.

Sitting on the lifebuoy, it floated very steadily on the water, as if it were on land.

Nan Sheng supported more than half of Qi Yang’s weight with one hand, the rest was shared among Yi Xinming and the others. Everyone felt it was very light and assumed it was due to buoyancy and Qi Yang’s light frame, so no one probed further.