Chapter 32: Disguise

From Zhang Hengheng’s perspective, it looked exactly like a zombie siege. Plastic hands were practically moments away from grabbing the black-haired youth’s ankles.

“Alice?” Zhang Hengheng’s first reaction was alarm. He immediately moved to save him.

Sheltered by the wind, he took a deep breath. His gaze swept over every plastic mannequin marked as an enemy, then his hands violently flung outward.

Six Flying Blades shot out at incredibly tricky angles, like venomous snakes seeking prey.

Each blade had its own unique trajectory, like flying birds, like darting fish. Lightly and swiftly, they pierced through the chests of multiple mannequins, sending up sprays of blood droplets like startled butterflies.

This time, he aimed for the heart position.

The surrounding mannequins toppled like wheat being scythed, collapsing in a row.

Immediately after, Zhang Hengheng’s figure blurred. Like a shadow, he slipped through the gaps created by their fall, stretched out his hand, and pulled the trapped black-haired youth down.

Eh, so light?

This thought flashed through Zhang Hengheng’s mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The person in his arms kept their head down, stammering: “F… fine.”

“How did you even get up there? Where’s Old Ying?” While dodging the remaining mannequins’ attacks and hastily retreating, Zhang Hengheng questioned.

The black-haired youth didn’t speak, only tightening his arms around Zhang Hengheng’s neck.

Assuming he was just terrified, Zhang Hengheng offered a few more words of comfort.

He had actually been somewhat suspicious earlier: how was it that in just one game, four people all happened to know Yin Luo?

But on second thought, this was a Reality Quest, and it had forcibly pulled in players within Rongcheng’s range. Alice, as a Rongcheng local with an international superstar for a mother, wasn’t so strange to be recognized.

At least the illness and the file data weren’t fake.

Thinking this, Zhang Hengheng’s sympathy swelled again.

His speed was fast. Soon, he’d shaken off the mannequin encirclement, arriving at a somewhat unfamiliar location.

“Is this place marked on the map?” Zhang Hengheng began, reaching for the data while chuckling. “Hey, Alice, you’re holding on way too tight. I can barely breathe. Relax, it’s fine now. Anyone would think you’re trying to strangle me.”

Initially, he said it in a joking tone. But the moment those words left his mouth, a sudden chill shot straight down his spine.

Cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead.

Wait. In Alice’s physical condition, does he really have that much strength?

And how was it that he’d encountered almost no mannequins along the way, only to find his teammate surrounded the moment he arrived? And the other party wasn’t even seriously injured?

Were there really that many coincidences?

It was as if a trap had been carefully laid, waiting specifically for him!

Once suspicion took root, he couldn’t control the flood of paranoid thoughts.

The Unity Badge, where’s the Unity Badge? Just one look at the Unity Badge, just one look would confirm…

Zhang Hengheng’s hand trembled involuntarily as he reached into his coat. He desperately tried to keep his voice steady, casting about for topics: “Ah, right, Alice, where’s that rabbit doll of yours? I remember you always carrying it…”

God damn it, what the hell am I saying?! Isn’t this deliberately blowing its cover?!

Zhang Hengheng was crying on the inside.

As expected, the person in his arms finally raised its head this time.

Zhang Hengheng’s peripheral vision caught a glimpse, and his breath hitched.

It was Yin Luo’s face. Or rather, exactly identical to Yin Luo’s face.

Except the black pupils were just slightly raised, completely lacking actual eyeballs—as if merely printed on.

And it was precisely this tiny, almost imperceptible difference from a real person that made it infinitely more hair-raising, infinitely more chilling.

It split its lips into a grin and, using Yin Luo’s voice, said: “Save me.”

Zhang Hengheng’s soul practically flew out of his body in fright.

Reflexively, he tried to fling the thing in his arms away.

But he failed.

Those two slender arms were like steel bars, clamped tightly around him, refusing to let go. And the longer he stared, the more Yin Luo’s face seemed to change.

As if melting plastic was being poured into a new mold. The skin turned a bit darker, the eyebrows thickened slightly, the eye shape seemed to become different too.

No, it wasn’t an illusion. This monster’s face was indeed changing, transforming into Zhang Hengheng’s own face!

WHAT THE HELL KIND OF MONSTER IS THIS?!

Not daring to hesitate for even a fraction of a second, cold light flashed. Zhang Hengheng thrust a blade towards its eyes with one hand, and stabbed towards its back with the other—attacking from both sides.

The monster finally seemed to register the need to dodge. But it still didn’t let go. Instead, like a bone-attached maggot, with sickening cracking sounds as its joints twisted into positions that would mean certain broken bones for a normal person, it directly skittered onto his back.

The release of Zhang Hengheng’s Flying Blades required wrist strength coordinated with the Wind to achieve an arcing or returning trajectory for targeting.

But it wasn’t true sword-flight; he couldn’t control them purely by thought. So, when the monster—whose face was increasingly becoming a copy of his own—pressed tightly against his body and dodged several Flying Blades, Zhang Hengheng knew he couldn’t reach it anymore.

Even though he forcefully stabbed the blade into the arms constricting his neck, the monster showed no reaction, as if utterly incapable of feeling pain. In his ear, a voice chanted over and over with flat, unchanging intonation: “Save me… Save me… Save me.”

Like a mimicking parrot, its voice too was shifting, changing towards his own.

His baseball cap fell to the ground. Suffocating, Zhang Hengheng’s face began turning purple. His body went weak; he couldn’t even cry out.

Moreover, the more his life force ebbed, the more the monster on his back resembled him.

As if it intended to replace him, to become the real person.

What in the world are the monsters in this instance?!

They actually possess intelligence!

Zhang Hengheng was filled with regret. He had the Unity Badge. He’d clearly seen the Abnormal Changes in these mannequins from the beginning. Doubt had clearly risen in his mind. And yet, due to carelessness, due to wishful thinking, he’d fallen into such a predicament.

Tch, he hoped Old Ying would be smart enough to recognize a plastic mannequin wearing his face.

Otherwise, dying like this was just too worthless…

If he had a spirit in heaven watching this, he’d probably be angered right back to life.

“Duck!”

At that very moment, a familiar, sharp shout erupted from behind.

Zhang Hengheng, his consciousness already blurring, saw a brilliant light flash in his eyes. Using the very last of his strength, he ducked his head, bent his body, and dropped directly to his knees.

Then, a brown-black Peach Wood Sword swept past his scalp, practically skimming the back of his head, carrying a sharp whoosh of wind. It almost shaved his scalp clean off.

But the thing wasn’t dead yet. Zhang Hengheng could feel those two arms still constricting him. At this point, though, he finally relaxed completely, practically going limp and letting Ying Zixin do his work.

“Cough, cough… don’t friendly-fire your teammate, cough… Old Ying, cough.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Fury burned in Ying Zixin’s eyes. The prolonged, intense sprint hadn’t caused his hands to tremble or hesitate in the slightest. The wooden sword in his grip was wielded like an electrified baton. Every slash, every thrust carried sparks of lightning, striking the plastic mannequin that had now fully taken on Zhang Hengheng’s appearance. The impact made crackling, sizzling sounds, its outer skin melting like burn-scarred, wrinkled human flesh.

It finally knew fear, releasing its grip, preparing to flee.

But a hand clamped down on it. Zhang Hengheng, too weak to even stand, lifted his head and grinned: “Think you can just run after messing with your Grandpa Heng?”

In that split second, Ying Zixin arrived in a single stride. Lightning gathered at the tip of the wooden sword, starkly illuminating the faces of everyone present.

“Ying, save me.”

It looked up frantically, eyes shimmering with tears, and in that instant, it transformed back into Yin Luo’s likeness.

The crew-cut youth’s movements paused for only a fraction of a heartbeat, then drove the sword through its heart with even greater fury and force: “Disgusting!”