The Painting of Death

The Painting of Death

Only two Players remained in Jiang Jiang's villa. She was away, and the two Players had vanished from the common areas as if they were invisible. Not a single living soul could be seen in the sprawling villa. This had made Bian Yongyi, who'd been a little uneasy at first, grow bolder by the minute. When he realized nobody was watching him, he began wandering around the villa.

Apart from Jiang Jiang's own paintings, the most valuable things in the villa were other people's paintings. They'd been given to her by people hoping to win her favor or make a deal. Nearly every wall in the villa was covered with them. The owner didn't seem to care much about their high prices; even the kitchen had two small ones for decoration.

"Now that's what I call rich." Bian Yongyi clicked his tongue, then ran his hand over the limited-edition toy models on the Cabinet before sneaking upstairs.

He didn't use a silencing item, only softened his footsteps—he didn't want to be caught and have no way to explain himself.

But even after he slowly made his way upstairs, no bodyguards appeared. Reassured, he boldly opened the rooms on the second floor, until he reached Jiang Jiang's studio.

All the paintings in the studio were covered with white cloth. Thinking they were finished works by Jiang Jiang, Bian Yongyi casually pulled the cloth off one.

But to his surprise, it was nothing like the heartwarming, healing paintings he'd seen online. The colors were gloomy, making him uncomfortable at a glance, and the subject was anything but soothing: a man's head had been severed from his body, his battered corpse sprawled on the ground amid pools of blood. His head was caught in the jaws of a strange