"...Save your strength for when you scream later! You've got a long time ahead to enjoy yourselves!" one of the shirtless men sneered as he sharpened his knife. Its blade was dark red, clearly having tasted blood before. "And don't blame me. If I don't put you through this, I'll be the next one hanging up there."
"Boss, this is a grand theater. Are we really going to do it the same way as before?"
"So what if it's a grand theater? I figure this is exactly the effect they want." The man didn't seem to care. "Just imagine: tomorrow, the moment the front doors open, people will find a real slaughter playing out onstage. Could there be more sensational news than that? I bet it'll spread across the whole city in just a few hours!"
"They're not doing it for fun. Someone's arranging for the criminals to do this..." Zhou Zhi murmured. "Why?"
"Maybe, to that bunch, this string of murders is a game in itself." Qiao James grinned cruelly. "I wonder if we can get in touch with whoever's pulling the strings."
"What, you want to join in?" Taylor said sourly.
"I was joking, mate. I'm not into that sort of thing."
"One of them probably won't make it," Naruko said softly.
She meant the victim tied to the wooden post.
"True." Taylor sighed. By the light of the oil lamp, it was easy to see the condition of the three captives. The first man's abdomen had been slit open, blood soaking his tattered clothes. With injuries that severe, he couldn't be saved even if he was still breathing. The others weren't faring much better. They'd clearly been tortured and beaten, their hands and feet covered in blood and bruises. Their attackers seemed to be enjoying themselves, chatting and laughing as they picked out their instruments of torture. It was like a slaughterhouse.
"By the way, I have a question for the righteous Mr. Zhang." Qiao James looked at Zhang Zhiyuan with a mocking smile. "Do you still want to spare these people and let the law judge them?"
The other man's face turned ashen.
"But they're making quite a spectacle of it. I wonder what the people behind this are after." The American continued muttering, "Is the reporter we're looking for in there?"
Taylor narrowed his eyes and looked for a moment, then nodded. "Found him. He's the third one."
Just then, Chaoyang emerged from the darkness. "The mission has been updated: rescue Cote Dane. If you can get him out of the theater alive, everyone will receive an extra 500 Points."
As he spoke, Chaoyang sighed inwardly.
At this point, the terms of the contract could already be considered fulfilled. After all, Judy had asked for Dane's whereabouts, and "in the hands of a group of serial killers, eventually dying at the Sinclair Grand Theatre" certainly counted as an answer. As a Demon who gathered Wish Force, he should have invested no more resources into this. Yet he found he couldn't simply walk away.
Points were virtual, but the Wish Force used to conjure objects was very real. Creating a body for the second time had already increased the cost. Now handing out a batch of empty promises only made things worse. He knew it wasn't rational, but his body was more honest than his mind. At best, he could hope to break even on this contract.
"Host, I want to redeem my Points," Zhang Zhiyuan said suddenly.
"You haven't rescued Dane yet—"
"I mean my starting Points. I've only redeemed one Translation Tofu so far, so I have 800 left."
That was close. I almost gave myself away. Chaoyang changed his tune without showing it. "Of course. You can redeem whatever you want at any time. But I have to remind you that neither a Resurrection Scroll nor a Healing Card can be used on characters in the Paradise game."
Because he couldn't truly bring the dead back to life.
And players were merely a combination of consciousness and a body.
"I'll get two crossbows," Zhang Zhiyuan said.
"What, changed your mind?" Qiao James teased.
"No. I'm giving them to you to use." He looked at Taylor and Naruko. "There are lights around the stage. You won't be able to sneak up without being noticed. Taking them down from a distance is the best option. There are nine of them, so one crossbow won't be enough."
"I don't mind. I'm not trying to kill them without getting hurt." The American shrugged. "I'm charging in for a bit of fun anyway."
Another burst of laughter rose from the stage, especially unnerving in the night.
"They're going after the second one. Hurry!" Zhang Zhiyuan urged them.
"Let's go. Same as before: Taylor and I will take the lead."
The Englishman spread his hands apologetically to Zhang Zhiyuan. "Can't be helped. You'll have to handle this crossbow." With that, he and Qiao crept toward the front rows near the stage.
Anthony and Naruko formed the second wave, silently moving toward the central seating area. It was higher up, giving them a view of the entire stage.
Zhang Zhiyuan gripped the remaining crossbow, his knuckles whitening with effort. Zhou Zhi had planned to follow Naruko, but when he saw Zhang's state, he turned back and stayed with him in the eastern section of the theater.
A new play was about to begin, and Chaoyang had already taken the stage, silently watching everything unfold.
Asahara Naruko struck first.
Though she was young, she showed no unease or confusion. Even though it was her first time using a compound crossbow, she calmly lined up her target in the sights.
The bolt flew free, tracing a gently descending arc through the pitch-black theater before piercing one of the thugs in the chest!
There was barely a scream.
The bolt drove straight into the man's lung, and the gush of blood choked off his cry of pain. There was only a series of bloody coughs before the man slumped helplessly to the ground. His companions didn't notice anything was wrong for several seconds.
"Hey, what's wrong with you?!" someone shouted.
Thwip! Another bolt followed!
This shot came from Anthony.
Chaoyang clearly saw the man clutch his stomach and scream, blood spraying everywhere. The bolt had probably severed a major artery. His death throes made him look like a fish flopping in a puddle.
Only then did the thugs realize what was happening.
"Shit, someone's attacking us from the dark!"
"What's going on? This wasn't part of the plan!"
"Grab your weapons first, guys!"
While they were panicking, Qiao James and Taylor charged out of the darkness and rushed toward the Sinclair Grand Theatre stage!
"Who are you? How dare you—"
"I can't understand a word you're saying!" Qiao leaped onto the platform from the seats and buried his axe in a killer's face. The crack of breaking bone rang out with startling clarity through the theater.
Another thug lunged at him, stabbing at Qiao James with a knife. He clearly struck his target, but the blade couldn't pierce James's body.
Taylor seized the opportunity and cut the man down!
"Country bumpkin, never seen a stab-proof vest before?" the American crowed. "Last time I was just messing around. This time, I mean business!"
Four of the nine went down in an instant. Anyone would have felt a flicker of fear!
And in a fight to the death, fear only made a losing position worse.
"Sir Ghost, this isn't what we agreed on!" the shirtless man shouted toward the sky.
"I told you, I can't understand your bullshit!" Qiao James pressed the attack, cutting his way into the crowd with his superior equipment and swinging at anyone nearby. He took several blows as he fought, but conventional weapons could hardly pierce modern body armor. As long as he protected his face and other vital areas, he would be fine.
Taylor's performance, however, surprised Chaoyang, who was watching from the shadows. Qiao James was fighting with sheer ferocity, but Taylor was different. He wielded a two-handed katana and struck only a few times, but each blow targeted a vital area. He always chose his moment when Qiao was drawing the enemies' attention.
If this were only a game, it would be one thing. But Chaoyang knew that what they were experiencing was no different from a real slaughter. Few people could stay so clearheaded amid flying blood and flesh.
As the American's companion, Chaoyang had also used the internet to look into Jason Taylor. Everything he found suggested that Taylor was highly educated, had earned a doctorate in biology, and had risen from an executive position at a pharmaceutical company to running his own business. He was now worth more than ten billion, placing him in the same class as Qiao James.
Who would have thought that someone like him would be not only good at making money, but also astonishingly adaptable to abnormal situations?
When the fifth man fell, the criminals' morale completely collapsed.
They stopped trying to surround Qiao and Taylor and turned to flee. After all, they had accomplices outside the theater. There was no need to stand and fight two lunatics who seemed impervious to blades and bullets.
The two men didn't bother pursuing them. Fighting with blades was exhausting, and though Qiao James had enjoyed himself, he was already starting to run out of stamina.
Besides, they had already achieved their goal: the reporter, Cote Dane, was still alive.
Before you continue