Chapter 16 : The Legacy of the Previous Run

Suddenly, that head snapped its eyes open and looked viciously toward Ming Po.

A tremendous force struck. The refrigerator door suddenly slammed shut inward with a loud bang!

Ming Po did not believe in evil in the slightest, nor did he feel any fear at all.

Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately pulled the refrigerator door open again!

But this time, the head from before had vanished.

As if the circuit breaker had tripped, the lightbulb in the living room flickered a few times and then went out.

The light in the living room abruptly darkened, becoming the kind of murky yellow seen before a storm. The sky outside the window turned a sandstorm-like dim yellow, and a strange chill came over him.

Along with the creaking of the windows, a sinister wind howled through the room.

Ming Po saw that a black-and-white memorial portrait of himself had appeared in the living room.

Seven sticks of incense had been inserted into the incense burner in front of it.

But strangely, they were not burning at the same time. Two had already burned down completely, while the third had only just been lit.

Behind that memorial portrait, a line of huge bloody characters appeared on the living room wall:

167:53:23.

167:53:22.

167:53:21.

It was not a blood-written curse against someone, but a clock.

Or rather, a countdown.

A countdown accurate down to the second.

Just looking at that countdown made Ming Po feel as though something had seized his heart.

What did this countdown… mean?

167… seven days?

Suddenly, the full-length mirror in the living room shattered with a crisp, violent crash.

But when Ming Po turned his head to look over, he discovered there were no mirror fragments on the floor at all.

Ming Po walked over.

Through the mirror that had half shattered, he saw another version of himself emerge within it… completely different from his own calm, casual attire. That version wore a formal suit, and his expression was ferocious and terrifying.

“…”

Ming Po said nothing. He merely pushed up his glasses.

However, the version of himself in the mirror did not make the same movement.

It merely split its mouth open and raised a “Red Copper of Hours.”

It pressed the chip against the edge of the mirror, as if holding the chip against the glass.

This seemed to be hinting at something.

After looking for two seconds, Ming Po reacted.

He did not feel fear. Instead, he really took out a “Red Copper of Hours.”

As though placing a stone in a game of Go, he pinched that chip between his fingers and extended it toward the broken mirror in a mirrored motion.

“You want this?”

Ming Po asked softly.

The “Ming Po” in the mirror split his mouth open and smiled soundlessly.

The moment the two chips touched, a burst of strong light came.

That broken mirror seemed to heal slightly.

Through that mirror, Ming Po vaguely felt that something was wrong.

Suddenly, he realized what was off.

Why was there a wine cabinet reflected in this mirror?

Neither Ming Po nor Ai Shiping drank alcohol. Ming Po was allergic to alcohol, and Ai Shiping preferred Coke. There was no way a wine cabinet would be placed here!

He abruptly turned his head and discovered that at some unknown point, between the refrigerator and the counter holding the microwave, a wine cabinet had appeared.

That amber-colored wine cabinet looked like a giant piece of amber. In the dim living room, it shone with dazzling light, like a desk lamp at night.

Yet there were only two bottles of alcohol inside, and one of the bottles was covered in cracks, with only a shallow layer of liquor left at the bottom.

…What is this?

Ming Po opened the wine cabinet.

He picked up the full bottle and examined it closely, only to discover that the bottle was not marked with any name.

It was a square bottle, and the amber liquid inside resembled some kind of whiskey.

The front of the bottle showed a distorted and exaggerated painting that looked like Van Gogh’s The Starry Night. Blue-green, bright yellow, and black intertwined together. Aside from the distorted starry sky and moon, there was also the silhouette of a werewolf howling at the sky in the lower left corner.

Ming Po rotated the bottle.

He discovered that on the back of the bottle, where the name, ingredient list, and manufacturer should have been written, there was instead something strange:

[Werewolf (Slaughter—Red Copper)]

[Equipped effect: Physical regeneration increased. Permanent state obtained: Wound Healing (Slow).]

[Active effect: Temporarily lose rationality and gain a significant increase in physical regeneration, explosive power, and reaction speed for ten seconds. During the duration, the effect rapidly declines. If a kill is completed during the effect, the duration can be refreshed.]

This was precisely the title Ming Po had just obtained!

Thinking of this, Ming Po suddenly froze for a moment.

He took the bottle out and placed it on the table. Then he carefully took the other cracked bottle out of the wine cabinet.

That bottle looked like a ceramic jar of baijiu, with a simple appearance completely unsuited to such a luxurious wine cabinet.

On the front was a handful of yellow earth and an incomplete gravestone.

The words on the back had become extremely blurred. Like an old photograph scorched by a lighter, it was covered in yellowed, blackened curls.

Even after trying his utmost, Ming Po could not fully identify what was written on it.

[Bones Cast to Dust (Virtue—Gold)]

[Equipped effect: When (illegible), you can (illegible).]

Everything below that was completely impossible to recognize.

That was basically equivalent to seeing nothing at all.

Whose title is this?

Ming Po wondered this, yet his heart seemed to faintly understand.

…Perhaps it is mine.

If this was his “mind palace” he would call it that for now, then it should be a place only he could enter. In that case, this thing was unlikely to belong to some stranger.

Moreover, beneath the title he had newly obtained, there had been a line:

“—Ming Po, welcome back.”

Did that mean… Ming Po had actually participated in the Deceitful Game once before, and had even climbed to Gold rank?

But because of some event, his title had shattered, and along with it, he had lost his memories too

Ming Po looked at the cracked wine bottle and suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

He thought of the mirror he had partially repaired.

This wine cabinet had only appeared in the house after Ming Po repaired the mirror once!

He turned his head back and discovered that the version of himself in the mirror had changed chips.

It was no longer “Red Copper of Hours,” but “False Gold of Days.”

His meaning was very clear—the next chip needed to be changed to False Gold of Days, and he could repair the mirror another portion.

If it followed this pattern

“If I want to repair this thing, could it be that I need a Gold-level chip?”

Ming Po reached up to cover his forehead, feeling somewhat of a headache.

Right now, he only had “one day and two hours” of time left.

According to the information Ming Po currently knew, Clear Lead of Weeks was the third level. Then following this pattern, the fourth level should be “Month,” and the fifth level would be “Year.”

Gold was at least “Month,” and most likely the chip carrier for “Year”!

Where was he supposed to get such a huge amount of time?

Should I participate in a new game?

This thought appeared in Ming Po’s heart.

But immediately afterward, he felt resistance.

There was no rush. He could still play for a while.

He still did not know what that countdown was… Could it be that he had to participate in the next game within seven days? But hadn’t the host said that this game had no compulsion at all, and that he could leave at any time?

As for resurrection… Ming Po had not thought about that.

Leaving aside the fact that Ming Po still had not remembered exactly how he had died, or when he had died… even if he did remember, he might not necessarily leave this game.

Judging from his roommate’s mental state, Ming Po probably had not been dead for very long… Could it be that he had only just died at this moment?

Figuring these things out could also be considered rather important, Ming Po thought.

Right now, his phone could not be used, and recklessly calling his family did not seem like a good idea.

His company should know the cause of his death. He might as well go over and ask.

However, Ming Po did not directly use chips to manifest himself. Instead, he intended to first drift over to the company as a ghost, then manifest there. That way, he could save some manifestation time.

Save whatever can be saved!

However, when Ming Po walked to the front door, he discovered that his front door had been modified into a somewhat unfamiliar appearance.

This door seemed to have become an item used to start the next game.

Like one of those old coin-operated kiddie rides, there were several holes on it where chips could be inserted.

As Ming Po touched those holes one after another, information entered his heart:

[Advancement. Cost: 1 False Gold of Days.]

[Adventure. Cost: 1 Red Copper of Hours / 1 False Gold of Days.]

[Confrontation. Cost: 1 Red Copper of Hours / 1 False Gold of Days.]

[Leave. Cost: None.]

Insert the corresponding chip, then pull open the door, and he would enter the next game.

So this was how the mechanism worked… An advancement ritual required inserting a chip one level higher than his current level?

“No wonder it emphasized that chips can be split but not combined…”

Ming Po sighed softly. “So this is where the nobility of higher-level chips lies.”

He did not insert any chips. Instead, with the chips in his possession, he directly pulled open the door.

Ming Po planned to go outside first and take a look, to wander around the world of the living.

To see whether this world with chaotic time was still the way he remembered it.