Editor: Junyans
Bai Jingan realized that he was dreaming.
In the dream, they had escaped danger and parked somewhere for repair and maintenance. There were no cameras around, so it felt safe. His wounds were bandaged and Xia Tian had a few injuries, but he was generally in good health.
Xia Tian said to him, ‘You were trying to get yourself killed!’
He replied, ‘I’m still alive.’
‘You almost died.’
‘I won’t die.’
Xia Tian stared at him, and Bai Jingan didn’t know what to say. He thought, he’s upset. This is bad.
It was at that moment that Bai Jingan became aware that he was dreaming.
His body still felt like it was descending, but the speed had slowed a bit. The effects of the drug hadn’t worn off. With closed eyes, surrounded by darkness, he didn’t know what lay beyond this black void.
He looked around inside his dream. He and Xia Tian were sitting in a car riddled with holes, talking. Sunlight streamed down obliquely, casting a brownish hue on the strands of hair that had fallen over the man’s forehead, making him look very warm.
He reached out, tucking the loose strand of hair behind his ear.
‘We’re okay now,’ he said.
‘Yeah.’
‘You said you’d get us out of this.’
‘Yeah, we’re both fine,’ Xia Tian said.
‘Even if we didn’t make it through, at least we’d have been together anyways.’
In the dream, they were by a street and around the corner, there was a dessert shop doing holiday promotions—red color paper crafted into candy shapes. The street was lively, but the sounds didn’t reach them. They were safe.
Another version of him observed this sunlit scene from afar, his face expressionless, a part of his soul cold and silent against a dark backdrop.
He didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t know what he would see when he opened his eyes.
There was never anything good. This world was a hell, a burning garbage heap full of desires, devoid of hope—where everything beautiful was only used for destruction!
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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As the thought of awakening surfaced, the dream’s sunlight sank uncontrollably, fading away like all beautiful things from his world. The orange-yellow light flickered for a moment and then extinguished.
Pain rushed into his body, and he sensed the air that was damp with a hint of mildew. He had returned to the real world. Bai Jingan opened his eyes and first saw a dark gray car roof and the interior lit with an orange glow.
He immediately realized he was lying on the reclining backseat of an extended van, covered with a soft blanket and his wounds tended to.
Then he saw Xia Tian.
Xia Tian sat by a makeshift bed, leaning against the side of the van, looking at him.
Wearing a light-colored T-shirt with a cartoonish explosion design and a casual denim jacket on top, he looked like a street gangster. Bai Jingan thought this suited him better than the formal outfits of sky-high prices provided by the sponsors.
Having leaned against the van for so long, Xia Tian had a mark on his face, and Bai Jingan wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there.
Seeing him awake, Xia Tian smiled at him. The smile was like a gleam of light in the car, illuminating the dampness, pain, and hopelessness.
His wounds had been treated, though somewhat slovenly, and Bai Jingan felt that they needed to be rebandaged.
“You’ve slept for six hours,” Xia Tian said.
For a moment, Bai Jingan wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming; some things felt incredibly real in dreams.
He attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness and pain surged like a tide, hitting him like unseen fists—this felt undeniably real, so it must not be a dream. Xia Tian gently pressed him back onto the seat.
“Lie down,” he said.
“Where are we?” Bai Jingan asked.
“An abandoned rest area in the underground highway.” Xia Tian widened his smile a bit more, saying, “There are no cameras here.”
According to Xia Tian, there had been some issues with the road barricades when he had charged through; the closing time discrepancy was about two seconds, ample for them to escape that hellish situation.
He switched four cars along the way and used a program shared by Minkov Jr.—an application called “Invisibility Cloak,” which could prevent camera information from being retrieved and uploaded. It was one of the core products of the gods on the mountain top, and this kid distributed it as if it were free.
After all, no matter how advanced the camera was, they were not formidable enough to have a built-in engine for tracking during their high-speed getaway. The omnipotent information queries and tracking capabilities were what the organizers relied on to pinpoint their location.
“When I was entering the underground highway, I saw a ‘Red Hurricane’ parked next to the hunting club, engine running, and no one inside—basically asking to be taken,” Xia Tian said. “As I was about to take another one while exiting the highway, the owner saw me—”
He said with a slightly eerie tone, “—and happily transferred the car’s permissions to me and gave me three hundred bucks, saying it’s a shame he only had this much cash in his pocket. The next two cars were the same.”
He pulled out a stack of bills from his pocket and said, “I got a lot of cash.”
Bai Jingan took the money and counted it—indeed, a substantial amount. Xia Tian continued, “When I met the owner of this car, she had just bought fruit cake and sweet bean paste pie, and she gave them to me too.”
Bai Jingan examined the car; it had a low-key and elegant design, but was pricey. He wasn’t entirely sure how this situation unfolded—probably because Xia Tian had a charming smile, and she just handed him the car?
However, he was certain that smelling the fragrance of food during his sleep had prompted that dream.
At that moment, Xia Tian leaned over from the front seat, holding a takeout bag with a cartoon strawberry on it, and said, “Hungry?”
Bai Jingan sat up slowly.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and was covered in healing bandages—the work of Xia Tian—the warm-toned light in the car highlighting the numerous intersecting wounds on his body.
Countless old injuries, remnants of his dark and brutal past, made it seem that his body had been completely torn apart.
This is a warrior’s body, Xia Tian thought. It is also a body that had crawled out from the hell’s deep recesses. After many years, he is completely indifferent to revealing himself in the light.
He recalled how Bai Jingan had looked when he had carried him down from the armored vehicle—completely unresponsive and fragile, like a small flame about to extinguish.
But he wouldn’t extinguish; he was so stubborn. Having experienced the most terrifying despair and battles in the womb of hell, he inherently possessed such formidable strength.
Xia Tian handed him a cup of hot fruit juice. Bai Jingan took it, his hands still trembling, but the effects of the anesthesia had subsided. He slowly sipped the hot drink to replenish his energy.
While expertly cutting a slice of cake with Marshmallow, Xia Tian said, “There’s one more thing.”
After passing Bai Jingan his portion, he continued, “When I was coming out, there was a slight issue with their road barricades, but it wasn’t a malfunction.”
Bai Jingan turned to look at him. Xia Tian put away the knife, opened the homepage of the God of War Temple, and said, “Take a look at this.”
Bai Jingan noticed he was using the ID of the God of War and didn’t enter the temple through the burning gates inscribed with “Never give up hope.” The perspective swept down from the sky with a visual effect of crimson flames, as if the entire universe swept past him. The flames then transformed into a scarlet cape behind the God of War.
Yingkong Lake—the offering—came into view in the wink of an eye.
“I received some… offerings,” the new God of War in the Upper City remarked. On the holographic screen, God’s perspective hovered above a watery expanse filled with skeletal remains, making it seem like he was the ruler of the realm of death.
He continued, “Only the person with the God of War privileges can have access to this viewpoint.”
Bai Jingan opened the offering function, glanced at it, and almost spilled the beverage in his cup.
The last time he and Xia Tian came here, they only saw an endless sea of skeletons. People piled blood and death here with extreme fanaticism and dedicated them to the God of War.
But now, the believers had presented new sacrifices.
Bai Jingan stared at the data before him. In the holographic image, placed on a golden plate were the security private access codes of “Iceberg Private Security Company”—the company that had been chasing them, which also served around six major elite clubs. There were also weapon contractor H and T series access codes and even a fucking backdoor access code for a Ministry of Defense surveillance satellite—
As he continued to look, his body became more and more tense, like a bow about to be fired.
This time, what was offered to the God of War wasn’t the Doomsday Beast, God of War Scepter, or mere executions. These people were placing the authority of the truly fearsome weapons from the Upper City into the hands of Xia Tian—the God of War.
Now, the two widely watched celebrities were huddled in a dim and quiet abandoned rest area, dividing sweet bean paste pie and fruit cakes between them—exquisite in taste, by the way—while discussing the next steps of their plan.
They couldn’t hide for long. The Guest Show claimed to let contestants freely use all available resources for escape, but the rules were designed for those wielding knives and forks at the feast.
As prey, if they didn’t “behave,” punishment would swiftly follow. Dee Dee, Eric, Wei Xi… they all lived in the hunting grounds of the elites. They’d better be smart and show themselves on camera.
This was never a show they could win.
At the same time, in the vast Upper City, countless people were watching them, furious and feverishly eager to do something.
Having tasted the sweetness of rebellion, like numerous sparks, they craved a raging fire that painted the sky red.
In a short time, the two Killing Show contestants quickly found the address, registration information, responsible person, and various rumors about Iceberg Private Security Company.
Even the satellite surveillance usage permissions were available now, making it extremely simple to query relevant information. They could get the job done while sitting in the car.
Without the information disadvantage brought by the camera, the two quickly discussed, intermingling with professional jargon, the latest acquired information—all the details they had noticed and pondered during the hunt, and potential weaknesses the enemy could exploit. Ruthless, efficient, and straight to the point.
Bai Jingan pondered what the power handed over to them represented.
It seemed he always contemplated the perilous survival rate of the two of them—he knew they were in a world with no way out, yet he couldn’t stop thinking, like an obsession.
This place seemed like a grave forgotten by the world. The light from distant car headlights swept by and reflected off water accumulated on the ground, creating shimmering ripples that were transparent in color in the ceiling and the ground, making people feel like they were underwater.
The entire world was quiet, as if there were never the Killing Show, pursuits, or bloody games—only the two of them.
But that wasn’t the case; the world existed, burning above their heads and decaying beneath their feet.
They were cornered beasts and simultaneously the top hunters of the Upper City. To escape, they would use everything at their disposal, sparing no cost.
