The Judge Defying Gods (also known as 'the Reverse God') teamed up with several members and pushed Spades toward the game pool. They walked casually and without formation, yet passersby still avoided them in fear.
"Look at this!" The Reverse God snapped. "You caused this! You're aggressive even when you're just playing in the game pool!"
Spades lifted his eyes and gave him a faint glance. "They're not just afraid of me. They'd be afraid of anyone who brings victory. It has nothing to do with what I did. They're simply afraid they won't get that victory."
"If their fear is part of gaining victory, then let them be afraid." He turned his head away indifferently.
The implication was clear: the victory would be his regardless. His tone was arrogant—and utterly certain.
The Reverse God was rendered speechless.
For someone with seemingly zero emotional intelligence, Spades could sometimes analyze things so sharply and thoroughly that it was infuriating—especially when they were trying to discipline him.
"Well, pick any three games." The Reverse God held his forehead helplessly. "Let's see how well you've trained alone. Time to test the results of our team training."
"…If we're capable of suppressing you." He took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Get ready to return to the team. It's time to start proper league training."
Spades nodded. He drew out his long black whip and lashed it at a twisting poster floating in the game pool.
The entire Killer Sequence team disappeared on the spot.
The Other Side
Mu Sicheng lowered himself and crawled across the floor of the Killer Sequence guild building, sharp monkey claws embedding silently into the walls. The question-mark-shaped tail of the capuchin swayed behind him, hooking onto protruding decorations and fixtures.
He wore a chameleon-like coat that shifted colors to match the environment—an extraordinary-level prop Bai Liu had obtained in the game pool and assigned to him for this mission.
It had been an excellent allocation. Mu Sicheng infiltrated the Killer Sequence smoothly and seamlessly.
With a few brilliant color shifts and silent aerial swings, he landed steadily in a long corridor near the top floor of the guild building.
He flicked wall dust from his nails, his tail retracting behind him like a wire. His red pupils scanned left and right, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise.
What the hell is this big guild doing? No security measures at all? Are they just waiting to be robbed?
Mu Ke, well-versed in guild history, would have been able to explain.
The Killer Sequence was a newcomer guild that rose to prominence last year purely because of Spades. Logically, such a guild would capitalize on that success and push to become number one.
But Killer Sequence had no president—because Spades did not "do" presidents.
As a result, the guild developed in a wild, untamed state. High-potential newcomers joined—quirky, talented individuals who admired Spades and refused to be constrained by larger guild structures.
Though they had a guild building, the members operated in a constant state of drifting. Their membership status existed in a kind of Schrödinger's duality.
When playing in the league, they needed guild registration, so they became official team candidates.
When not playing league matches, they were simply individual players.
The new generation of Killer Sequence members was deeply influenced by Spades. Each believed they were born to win the league. Each saw themselves as a ruthless league shark.
This chaotic one-upmanship only improved after The Judge Defying Gods was recruited. He forced them to recognize that only five players could be official league representatives—not "killers," but players.
Before becoming league monsters, they had to contribute to the guild's growth.
Which meant the half-decent tactician poached by Spades and forcibly titled [Guildmaster] had to handle everything—team training, discipline, guild development, logistics.
One tactician doing the work of eight. Constant overtime. No salary.
Under those conditions, guild security became a secondary concern. The Reverse God was already on the verge of collapse.
Combined with the triumphalist fighting spirit inherited from Spades—where everyone was a battle maniac eager to bite off more than they could chew—the guild building remained loosely protected.
The stronger the opponent, the more excited they became.
Most sane guilds avoided provoking the Killer Sequence altogether.
Mu Sicheng observed carefully. Few people remained in the building.
He decided to move deeper.
Generally, high-level props were stored in two places. One was the personal system inventory of the guild's warehouse keeper.
A warehouse keeper didn't just store props—they tested and maintained them weekly in-game. Carrying numerous high-grade and rare props year-round, they were effectively mobile vaults. Alongside the Weapon Transformer, it was one of the two most confidential positions in any guild.
The top warehouse keepers in the game belonged to the Golden Dawn family—not a single person, but the entire guild.
No one truly knew what they did, but they were trained with near-military precision, like professional police warehouse managers. They excelled at storing, guarding, and handling dangerous goods.
Many guilds—the King's Guild, the Kabbalah Life Guild, even Charles' Gamblers' Club—had attempted to gather intelligence on Golden Dawn's stockpile. Not necessarily to steal, but knowing what items they possessed was crucial league intelligence.
All attempts had failed.
Golden Dawn was the natural enemy of thieves.
Recently, under the direction of a new member named Armand, Golden Dawn had reorganized its anti-theft structure. Just days ago, they captured a King's Guild scout within a single dimensional minute.
Calling their warehouse structure "solid as gold" would be an understatement.
Mu Sicheng frowned.
The warehouse layout of Killer Sequence bore an uncanny resemblance to the intelligence Wang Shun had shown him about Golden Dawn's design.
Behind him, a translucent rotating barrier shimmered briefly.
[System Alert: A player has triggered the warehouse trap prop you set!]
At the same moment, the Reverse God—who had just entered the game—received the notification.
A team member asked what happened.
The Reverse God smiled calmly. "Nothing. Someone triggered the warehouse protection prop I installed."
The team's jaws dropped.
"Someone dared to steal from Killer Sequence?"
"I don't remember us having warehouse protection."
"We don't even have a warehouse keeper! Judge, what did you set up?"
Overwhelmed by noise, the Reverse God raised his voice. "We don't have the manpower to guard a warehouse. So I used the simplest and most effective method."
The team leaned in. "What method?"
"I contacted the president of Golden Dawn. Offered money and a prophecy. I outsourced our warehouse protection to them." The Reverse God smiled warmly. "Any intruder is directly transferred to Golden Dawn's warehouse."
Silence.
…Judge, you single-handedly outsourced us to the strongest warehouse keepers in the game…
The Reverse God sighed. "I even tried outsourcing training. But the Deer Hunter Guild refuses to train external battle teams…"
He looked at them meaningfully. "I'm only one person. And you lot don't exactly listen to your tactician."
The team: "..."
The Deer Hunters believe in Spartan training! Their members howl every day! They barely have time to eat or drink! It's so miserable that people develop kidney stones before they're twenty!
A usually rebellious younger member swallowed stiffly. "We'll… we'll listen to you."
The Reverse God smirked. "Really?"
All the players nodded frantically.
-----------------
The farther Mu Sicheng walked, the more something felt wrong.
He stopped abruptly, scanning the architecture around him. Lowering his head, he sniffed carefully. The bright, open corridors were laced with strange, overlapping scents. The smell of people was unusually complex and layered, and beneath it lingered the cold metallic scent of sealed doors.
It was very similar to what he had smelled at the headquarters of the Heretic Authority.
As Mu Sicheng continued sniffing, a green-and-blue butterfly trimmed in gold rested quietly on the window to his left, its wings fluttering slowly.
Mu Sicheng turned his head slightly, frowning. His nose twitched.
"…There's a bit of flowing air…"
"It smells like wind."
The butterfly's wings began beating rapidly.
A gale tore through the narrow corridor. A blurred figure merged with the wind itself and struck at Mu Sicheng at a speed invisible to the naked eye.
Carried by the pressure and velocity of the wind, the opponent kicked off the surrounding walls, shifting positions midair, delivering a heavy blow.
Mu Sicheng crossed his arms and endured the impact. Refusing to fall behind, he slashed back with his claws, twisting his body and lunging for the man's face, attempting to slam him to the ground.
The other man leapt lightly, gliding upward along the wall. His breathing was faint—almost imperceptible—as though it blended into the wind itself. A butterfly settled calmly on his shoulder, its wings still fluttering.
In this wind, the one who lost their footing would be the one defeated.
Mu Sicheng caught the scent of him—wind, rapid airflow, and the faint powdery trace of butterfly scales.
The wind intensified suddenly, growing so dense it blurred vision.
Mu Sicheng's chest rose and fell under the immense pressure. He was forced to release his grip and retreat, his monkey claws embedding into the metal walls to stabilize himself.
Gradually, the wind began to disperse.
Mu Sicheng dropped back down as the man opposite landed on the fractured floor. His short, light-brown hair was tousled by the wind, shimmering under the white lights with an almost ethereal sheen.
Armand looked at him evenly.
"I never thought we'd fight again in a place like this, Mu Sicheng."
Mu Sicheng raised an eyebrow and casually tossed a golden, wing-shaped hairpiece in his hand, spinning it around his finger with a dismissive smile.
"'Evenly matched' doesn't seem like the right phrase, does it? If this were a real match, it wouldn't be your accessory I'd be taking—it'd be your head."
"Is that so?" Armand remained calm. "That's what you said the first time we fought—before you stole my record pen."
"My memories of the past aren't all painful," Armand continued, his gaze shifting to the hairpiece in Mu Sicheng's hand. "Some of them are… educational."
Mu Sicheng froze.
Realization struck. He tried to fling the hairpiece away—but it was too late.
The wing-shaped ornament exploded outward, transforming into a wire-mesh restraint that snapped around his wrists and upper arms like handcuffs. The fine metal lattice tightened instantly, impossible to break.
Armand lifted his eyes calmly.
"You hate mesh restraints and handcuffs the most. So I combined them."
"A small welcome-back gift."
"It's been a long time, Mu Sicheng."
-----------------
Mu Ke led Du Sanying—who had done his homework—to the game pool.
Du Sanying was doing better than Mu Ke had expected. Not only had he adapted quickly, but he had also already played more than fifty-two games. He was fully eligible for league entry.
After asking for Du Sanying's opinion and confirming that he was willing to join the league, Mu Ke helped him complete the registration process. Then, following Bai Liu's instructions, he brought him to the game pool for practice.
Du Sanying stared in awe at the posters drifting across the pool and asked timidly, "…Which one should I choose?"
"It doesn't matter," Mu Ke explained patiently. "My base stats are high enough to handle most pool games. And you have a full luck value. Any game you pick shouldn't pose serious danger to you."
Du Sanying's expression faltered. Years of being labeled "the lucky one" still haunted him.
"…But I'm the only lucky one," he murmured. "Everyone around me is usually unlucky."
"I know." Mu Ke kept a polite physical distance as he opened his system panel to show him. "I'll maintain separation to protect you and minimize my own exposure."
He offered a reassuring smile. "I may look inconspicuous, but that's because I'm an assassin."
Du Sanying hesitated, then finally stepped forward and selected a game. Mu Ke followed him in.
The moment they entered, a deafening barrage of gunfire erupted in their ears.
Bullets strafed the ground without pause. The surrounding monsters had already been eliminated. Bodies—human and non-human—lay scattered across the floor. Some players were clearly unconscious; others were unmoving. In the chaos, it was difficult to distinguish between monster corpses and fallen players.
The scene was brutal.
Du Sanying stood frozen.
"This dungeon is already at the final stage," Mu Ke said calmly, shielding Du Sanying from the worst of the sight. "It's fine. You're lucky—the other players cleared most of the monsters before we arrived."
His gaze lingered on several bodies that were too still, too broken.
He did not say the rest aloud.
It wasn't just monsters that had been cleared.
There was a dangerous player here.
Du Sanying's eyes watered. He bit his knuckles nervously. "…But that was so fast. We just entered…"
"There are players like that," Mu Ke replied evenly. "This instance is no longer worth farming. Prepare to exit—"
A fresh burst of high-frequency gunfire ripped through the air, accompanied by a delighted, almost playful "Woohoo!"
Mu Ke reacted instantly. He deployed a piece of armor and shielded Du Sanying beneath it, listening sharply for the direction of the shots.
Du Sanying panicked and tried to crawl away. "Don't get near me! Something unlucky will happen!"
The sharp impact of bullets striking the armor quickly drew the shooter's attention.
Before Mu Ke could reposition, a figure dropped from above—riding a massive spring—and landed directly on top of the armored cover.
The armor shattered under the impact.
Mu Ke rolled out in a flash, dragging Du Sanying with him. Landing on one knee, he drew his dagger and tilted his head up to assess the intruder—
—and froze.
He had seen many bizarre players before.
But the one in front of him was the kind who could make someone hesitate even in a life-or-death situation.
The player sat atop a giant, brightly colored spring over three meters tall. His legs dangled loosely as he held a dark green sniper rifle. The upper half of his face was covered by a crudely drawn paper clown mask, distorted like a careless child's art project.
The lower half of his face was smeared with exaggerated red lips, uneven and messy. The smell of blood lingered faintly in the air.
His apple-green eyes peeked through the paper mask.
His flared green trousers and sniper rifle were splattered with grime from battle.
He rested his chin on one hand and tilted his head, studying Mu Ke's face.
The corners of his mouth stretched wider and wider.
"I remember that pretty face of yours," he said in English tinged with an Italian accent. The tone carried an unsettling elegance, lazy yet refined. "Because I once saw it while kneeling."
"So it left quite an impression."
He lifted the sniper rifle halfway—then abruptly seemed to recall something. Balancing theatrically on the spring, he bowed with exaggerated flourish, one hand behind his back.
The gesture was aristocratic—absurdly out of place against his clownish appearance.
"My father taught me that one should introduce oneself before killing an opponent," he said politely. "Out of respect, we allow them to know who killed them."
He straightened, smiling.
There was no warmth in his eyes. "My name is Daniel. Bai Liu's beloved godson."
He raised the sniper rifle toward Mu Ke. His grin turned sharp and tyrannical.
"Your name doesn't matter."
"You are trash unworthy of him."
"Trash doesn't need a name."
"BANG—!"
-----------------
After settling matters in the vast game pool, Bai Liu brought Liu Jiayi and Tang Erda to its edge.
Not a single player was present.
Liu Jiayi understood immediately. "A major guild's battle team just entered the pool. Their slots aren't full yet, so other players are too afraid to come over."
She glanced at Bai Liu, her gaze falling on his hand, tightly wrapped in bandages to stop the bleeding. "Why don't we wait it out too?"
"When have I ever taught you to hold back before a tournament begins?"
A refined, elegant female voice interrupted her thoughts. The steady click of high heels approached.
"What you should do before a tournament is suppress others before they can rise."
Hearts wore a bright blue ribbon gown with a double-draped neckline. Beige gloves covered her arms to the elbows. Her hair was styled into a delicate bun, and long blue-green gemstone earrings swayed at her neck.
Classical. Elegant.
Liu Jiayi stepped in front of Bai Liu. "Queen. Long time no see."
Hearts was accompanied by a full squad, clearly here for group training. But instead of Liu Jiayi at her side, there was a new face.
A young foreign girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen, stood beside her. She wore a black-and-white nun's dress. A white headdress framed her golden curls, and she held a small cross in her hands. Her blue-green eyes were clear and innocent, like a calm sea.
One glance told Liu Jiayi everything.
Hearts had dressed to match the new team member.
The girl looked like she had stepped out of a classical oil painting.
Hearts gently brushed the girl's bangs aside. "She's the player replacing you. Sister Phoebe, greet your predecessor and wish her God's blessing in the game."
Phoebe stepped forward to within a meter of Liu Jiayi. Completely unafraid of her "little witch" reputation, she gave a graceful curtsey, lifting her skirt slightly.
"May the Lord bless you."
Her voice was sweet and gentle.
She stood upright and looked at Liu Jiayi expectantly. "You have a brother too, don't you?"
Liu Jiayi pressed her lips together. She glanced briefly at Hearts, then replied, "I did."
"I have a brother as well," Phoebe said softly. "We share the same father, though not the same mother. It's the same for you, isn't it?"
She smiled like an angel.
"He turned his back on me, just like your brother did."
"But I don't blame him. I forgive him. And God forgives everything."
Liu Jiayi remained silent. Invisible thorns seemed to rise around her.
Ignoring the hostility, Phoebe suddenly stepped forward and clasped Liu Jiayi's hands, pressing them against her own heart. Her eyes shone with warmth.
"We're so similar. Maybe we should have been siblings. I've always dreamed of being friends with you."
Her smile was bright and genuine.
"You're my favorite player."
Her eyes sparkled.
"I'll win the game and bring you happiness granted by God."
Startled, Liu Jiayi pulled her hands back.
Bai Liu stepped forward and met Hearts' gaze.
Hearts smiled faintly. "Phoebe has always liked Jiayi. She was actually stronger, but she volunteered to be her substitute just to get closer to her."
"A pity that the friendship never bloomed." Her meaningful gaze lingered on Liu Jiayi. "The child she liked ran away."
"Really?" Bai Liu replied calmly. "Then why didn't you use Phoebe before?"
Phoebe clasped her hands in prayer. "Because I wasn't stable enough. My brother is still alive, and sometimes he does things that annoy and embarrass me. It affects my performance."
She sighed softly.
"God bless him. If only he would die sooner."
The contrast between her innocent appearance and those words was striking.
Behind Hearts, Qi Yifang was already teary-eyed.
This isn't the teammate I want… She looks pure and devout, but when she reveals herself—this is terrifying… Even we're being fooled…
As Hearts led Phoebe away to train, Phoebe turned back with a sorrowful look.
"Goodbye, little witch. I hope God lets you appear in my dreams tonight."
Liu Jiayi rubbed her arms to suppress the goosebumps.
"Oh, and if you happen to see my brother," Phoebe added casually, "please help me kill him. His name is Daniel. He's a fool who likes to play clown."
As if asking someone to discipline a troublesome cat.
After they left, Bai Liu placed a hand on Liu Jiayi's head.
"Hearts used her to disturb your emotions. Don't think too much about this 'nun' until we know more. Let's enter the game."
Liu Jiayi nodded, took a deep breath, and selected a game.
[System Alert: Welcome to the game "Dense Woodside Town."]
[This was once a tropical frontier town at war—filled with gunfire, swamps, and jungle lakes. The forest is dense and dangerous. You are soldiers assigned to clean the battlefield.]
[Points-category game. The more corpses a player clears, the more points they earn. After seven days, the highest score wins.]
Tang Erda looked at Bai Liu. "Points category. Unlike puzzle games, there's no fixed main storyline. Victory depends on two things—earning your own points and preventing others from earning theirs."
Liu Jiayi surveyed the area. "Tropical climate. Frequent rain and wind. Dense flora and fauna. Complex terrain. Environmental interference will be significant."
She handed Bai Liu a bottle of antidote.
He drank it calmly. Some color returned to his face.
"This game shouldn't be too difficult," Bai Liu said. "No monsters or players have attacked us yet. Let's sweep quickly and leave."
Tang Erda and Liu Jiayi nodded.
"First rule on a battlefield—camouflage." Bai Liu scanned their surroundings. "We need three sets of—"
A gunshot rang out.
Given the war setting, that meant active conflict nearby.
Without hesitation, the three quickly concealed themselves in vegetation. They smeared mud on their faces, lay flat, slowed their breathing, and closed their eyes to mimic corpses.
Through the dense gunfire, hoarse male voices echoed across the forest.
"Spades! Don't run! You said you were going to lose!"
"You promised three losses as punishment! You can't break your word! Put down that body!"
"Spades! Teammates are surrounding you!"
"Spades, you're shameless! You actually stole your teammate's corpse to score!"
A man in a dark green uniform dashed through the jungle.
As he passed Bai Liu, he slowed briefly, lowering his head to inspect him—as if evaluating whether Bai Liu counted as a collectible corpse.
Before he could confirm, furious shouts came from behind him.
"Put down the Master's body!!!"
Without hesitation, Spades scooped Bai Liu up and sprinted away.
He swung his whip backward without turning his head.
Snap.
A cry of pain followed.
"You actually whipped your teammate!"
Spades ignored it.
He continued running, carrying two bodies.
On his shoulder, Bai Liu slowly opened his eyes.