Editor: Junyans
The ink-black darkness of the night completely enveloped the garden of the third sub-arena.
Xia Tian’s movement seemed fine, but he still struggled to stand up. But the glare he shot at the Lawyer-in-charge as he walked out the banquet hall showed no sign of weakness.
But he was surprisingly silent the entire way back. He remained quiet as Eric and the others talked about potential future developments.
Their small courtyard was still brightly lit but soon, the light would no longer serve as a protection. Eric opened the door, and Xia Tian followed him in. He walked towards the sofa, his pace getting slower and slower, and then he finally stopped.
“Lil’ Bai,” he said softly, “I need help…”
Bai Jingan held him, and Xia Tian fell down before even reaching the sofa.
Bai Jingan put Xia Tian on the sofa and cut open his blood-soaked clothes with scissors.
Eric dragged over the organizer’s medical kit that was once again stuffed to the brim, and Wei Xi actually found a miniature hologram nano-therapy device. They guessed that the planning team had also determined that Xia Tian’s injury was severe, so they disregarded the arena setting and crammed in the latest advanced medical equipment.
Wei Xi turned on the therapeutic device, and Bai Jingan quickly pulled out the surgical line. Both of them knew the ropes, but their movements were tight and uneasy.
Eric examined Xia Tian’s wounds. The word “bad” was not enough to describe them. Even with painkillers… it was really hard to imagine how he had managed to walk back.
He then inspected Bai Jingan’s wound and said, “You have to take care of it.”
“I can last two hours without a problem,” Bai Jingan said while observing the holographic imaging.
His expression was grim. Eric had never seen such an expression on him before, which meant that the situation was probably dire. So he didn’t speak any more, just fished out a hemostatic agent and injected a shot into Bai Jingan’s shoulder.
The atmosphere in the room was oppressive. Eric looked down at Xia Tian. His hair was soaked with sweat and blood. He lay quietly, not looking at all like the person who was killing everything that got in his way just an hour ago. Under the light, his face looked astonishingly young.
Shortly after the drawing of the fourth round had taken place, Eric had heard a big shot in the marketing department talking in their team’s planning area. He was telling someone about their team’s planning direction.
“Money is like a river. Some people can tell where it’s flowing at a glance. All you have to do is follow it.” The man had yelled over the phone, “Marketing is enough to help us create a God. The essence of marketing is to sell things. As long as you make enough money—are you kidding me? Yes, we have no fear. Now is such an era!”
He had said, “Yes, it’s all about marketing a hero and a god and then convincing everyone to follow him.”
Eric had no idea that behind such a marketing ploy was an enormous flow of funds, bigger that he would ever be able to imagine. But when Xia Tian had gone to trouble the planning team before, he hadn’t hesitated to go along.
It sounded a little crazy, but you always wanted to follow something all the way through, and dying that way felt a little better than living after turning into someone like Angus or Qi Qing.
In this dark arena, it was the only option that seemed to have a little dignity, the only light that could be followed. He thought that this was true for many people.
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.
Eric stood in the middle of the arena of this Upper City, which was essentially an entertainment capital game, looking down at the young man who had been pushed to the throne of God, as he had looked at many of his comrades in the past.
Wlj Kljc’r ygfjat kjr rb kfjx atja la mbeiv tjgvis yf ofia. Ktf kjafg lc atf yjrlc tjv yffc mbwqifafis vsfv gfv klat yibbv, jcv Djl Alcujc tjv ab gfqfjafvis mbcolgw atja tf ralii tjv j qeirf.
Qlatbea atja vfoljca jegj, tf kjr pera j sbecu wjc lc tlr fjgis akfcalfr, jii kbecvfv jcv bc atf nfguf bo vfjat.
He thought there were countless people in the Upper World watching this scene right now, praying for his safety.
Their new god was still so young and fragile.
Tian Xiaoluo stood in the desert of the God of War Temple, the hot wind scraping across her skin like a knife. Anyone who came to this temple looked like they were going to be scraped and peeled.
There was nothing but corpses and bones as far as the eyes could see; there was no telling where the end was. In the God of War Temple, only the remains of the dead were left.
Yesterday, Xia Tian’s battle to open the arsenal had dunked the Upper City into a bloody carnival that had been filled with the smell of fuel and flames. A mysterious fanaticism had invaded everyone’s souls, turning their blood into gasoline and igniting fire in their hearts.
Xia Tian was almost like an infectious disease, making the inhabitants of the Upper City reach a staggering historical high, both in terms of consumption and the number of dead.
Now, the bones in the God of War Temple were piled up like mountains, all of which were offerings made by the Upper City to their seriously injured God of War.
Tian Xiaoluo turned her eyes towards Minkov Jr.
In this immersive mode, he wore a large black T-shirt with a hideous skull drawn on it instead of his goody-two-shoes formal wear which made him look like a bellicose person looking for trouble. His clothes also made him look thinner. And yet, he was still terrifying and deadly.
Minkov Jr., with a lollipop in his mouth, was checking out the details of the pile of dead bones sacrificed at the foot of the God’s statue.
There were seven dead people, and they were no more special than anyone else in the field of bones. However, by clicking on their details, another layer of their identities could be revealed.
These people had raped a number of Killing Show stars, and then posted the videos online as trophies.
All of Xia Tian’s followers knew that these people had approached him at a dinner party after the third round, drugged him, taken advantage of him, treated him like a plaything, and said that they would make him realize the real Upper World sooner or later.
Tian Xiaoluo herself had investigated the identity of this group of people some years ago, but some information had needed core permissions and couldn’t be obtained at all. This group of people definitely had powerful figures as patrons. These days, there were always so many people who could do whatever they wanted without having to bear responsibilities.
If Xia Tian had ever been bothered by them, now he no longer had to be.
All the members of the Honey Pavilion were already dead.
And they weren’t just murdered for fun. These people were all from the middle and upper levels of the Upper City’s food chain, and there were two really powerful people among them, so it must have been extremely difficult to kill them. The process of their deaths had also been very painful and full of sexual humiliation. All of them had been naked when they had died, but it was not for fun, but a result of a carefully planned revenge.
Many people despised the Honey Pavilion bastards and wanted to slaughter them, but this murderer was obviously not in that category. He had killed them only because of Xia Tian. He had called these people “offenders.”
The entire murder process showed the meticulousness, dedication and bloody fervor of the person who was offering sacrifice.
Tian Xiaoluo suddenly remembered the way the TV station’s bigwigs had talked about how to market Xia Tian. They had said that they were just making money from the foolish people who were empty, anxious and suffering, and that they were making the people lose their ability to think and thus, dance to the marketing lies.
But now it seemed that the words were obviously not comprehensive enough.
Whoever the person offering the Honey Pavilion members as sacrifice was, he or she was definitely at the very top of the food chain in this city.
He or she had offered the sacrifices with full sincerity. Like all the “foolish people,” he or she was also mad for their young god.
Next to Tian Xiaoluo, Minkov Jr. watched the killing process seriously, probably thinking about the suspect.
On one side of her immersive view, a special episode of Sky Viewpoint was playing, discussing the relationship between idols and imitation. The host’s lines sounded disapproving, but the show was so upbeat and passionate that it made people want to go to the streets to kill a few people.
The program groups were all like this, they had to follow the general format. But what Tian Xiaoluo didn’t understand was the top level.
“I don’t understand why you guys are doing this,” she said to Minkov Jr., “The whole Upper City is crazy.”
“Because of money,” Minkov Jr. said without raising his head. “You see how many people die, but you are not aware of how much they make.”
Tian Xiaoluo thought about it for a moment and realized that she didn’t want to know. It must be a dizzying figure that would make you realize how low you were in the social hierarchy, how pressed into the dust you were.
“They call the marketing of the Zone N Massacre ‘war marketing’, the rebel ‘revolution marketing,’ and now this, ‘god marketing’,” Minkov Jr. said, “There’s nothing more profitable than selling a God.”
The person who would be in power in the future stood in a field of bones, looking up at the ancient statue, with a smiling expression that was filled with madness.
Because of the feedback program in the contact lens, under the statue, countless lives
were repeatedly dying and withering, turning from portraits of vivid suffering into silent dead bones. This was a new technology, but Tian Xiaoluo had the impression that she was standing on an ancient battlefield that had lost its era and name, where death and sacrifice were eternally repeated.
“They think,” Minkov Jr. added, “that they can offer a god as a sacrifice to the enormous capital.”
The temperature here was obviously high, but Tian Xiaoluo got goosebumps.
Minkov Jr. threw the lollipop away, and the stick drew an arc before it disappeared into the scorching air. Debris was not permitted in the temple.
He turned his head and flashed a smile at Tian Xiaoluo that was as bright and crazy as this whole world.
He said, “Don’t worry, compared to our sacrifice, it’s much worse.”
Xia Tian slept for two days, and didn’t wake up even once in the middle.
Bai Jingan stayed as close to him as he could. Reason told him that the planning team would not come after Xia Tian now, but in a world like this, no one could be trusted.
The security lights outside the house were still on, but white shadows could already be faintly seen at night, running along the edges of the light in weird, misshapen shapes.
Gunshots were blaring outside, and the news that the players had been attacked could be heard everywhere. Even when the creatures stopped harassing them, a few people still continued to hold a vigil. Only God knew when the organizers would go crazy.
In the early hours of the third day, Bai Jingan finished his night watch and went to bed to rest.
Three hours before dawn, he yawned, grabbed a blanket and climbed into bed, and then turned his head to look at Xia Tian next to him.
The bed was big enough for two people to sleep, and Xia Tian was lying next to him, breathing steadily. The light from the wall lamp cast soft shadows on his face.
He looked so young, as if he was free from all worries. There was no trace of anger or pain on his face.
Bai Jingan listened to his breathing, thinking in his heart, I hope he will wake up tomorrow.
Bai Jingan had a dream.
In his dream, he was in the Lower City. Something had happened. He was furious and was counting the guns on a table, ready to go after someone and make trouble.
Someone nearby was persuading him. “I know you’re angry,” the man said, “but you have to think carefully. Sometimes things are just that bad, and a lot of people come through that…”
“I don’t care!” He exclaimed.
He thrust the gun to his back, grabbed the bag and left. His mind was filled with reckless fury, which made him unable to think about other things anymore.
He pulled open the door and walked out—
And then he didn’t know how it suddenly became a peaceful era. He was much younger than he was now. Xia Tian sat on the steps in front of his house, waiting for him to go out to play.
He looked to be 12 or 13 years old, the age he had been at the time of the Zone N Massacre. Sensing him come out, he looked up and smiled at him.
He asked, “How long have you been waiting?”
“Just a little while,” Xia Tian said.
Bai Jingan stretched out his hand towards the other person, and Xia Tian grabbed his hand and stood up from the steps.
Then they walked along the road, as if they were going to cause some big trouble. The Upper City was hovering a little above their heads. But, the light was very bright and seemed sweltering and dangerous, like the flames of war burning to the end of the world.
Bai Jingan realized that he was dreaming, but he did not wake up.
At that moment, there was a clear thought in his mind.
I like this.
though I am not happy about the slow burn… (it’s really killing me),im happy their relationship is so realistic.my poor heart………😪i just want this to end………😭.as usuall, thanks for the chapter
I really like slow burn (when I know that the love interests end up together because sometimes they don’t and I don’t end up finishing the novel/book). In this case, I’m about 90% sure that Xia Tian and BJG will end up together and 10% insanely scared they don’t. Or I’m completely wrong, and it’s probably that.
Thank you for translating! ❤