At center stage, Dong Xiwen, Cynthia, and the puppet Charlie sat at a round table, each with a single card before them.
Even after Qi Si had orchestrated his own exit, the play continued. And Charlie, having confessed his guilt, had joined the game.
The pacing of the new act was much faster than the first. With the night phase skipped, the game had already advanced to the second act in under half an hour.
The two players and one NPC were each dealt several playing cards and began a game of "Crazy Blackjack," just as they had before.
In a three-player game, the first two to form an alliance would gain a decisive advantage. If the players simply worked together, Charlie wouldn't stand a chance.
Yet when Cynthia proposed they team up to eliminate Charlie, the NPC, Dong Xiwen hesitated.
He knew Cynthia had likely killed Hansen. Who was to say she wouldn't pull the same stunt and kill him during the battle royale if she made it to the third act?
After all, this was the same woman who had agreed to "Zhou Ke's" proposal only to turn around and vote against him without a second thought.
But his suspicions were just that—suspicions. There was no concrete proof, and nothing had actually happened yet. Was he really going to team up with an NPC to get another player killed, all to save his own skin?
"Dong Xiwen, I know what you're worried about. And I'll be frank with you—before the vote, I did consider killing you for real in the third act."
Cynthia's tone was sincere, her gaze earnest. "But things have changed. Zhou Ke has all the clues and plans to leave us behind to clear the instance on his own. Even if I killed you, it wouldn't trigger the required death count. But if you stay, we might have a chance to unravel this instance's secrets and get out of here alive together."
"Zhou Ke has a massive advantage. I know his type—he's paranoid and ruthless. For a bigger prize, he won't hesitate to wipe us all out. We have to work together if we want to stand a chance against him."
Dong Xiwen stared at the card before him, utterly silent.
He held a [10]. Whoever he gave it to would bust and lose the game.
There was no denying the logic in Cynthia's words.
But if he refused to cooperate and instead joined forces with Charlie to eliminate her, the risk would drop to zero. He could even win this act outright...
Though Dong Xiwen appeared to agonize over the choice, only two seconds had actually passed.
He finally made his decision. Pushing the card forward with a single finger, he announced, "I'll give the card to..."
"Holy shit!"
He cried out as, at the very instant he moved, the entire stage began to tremble violently.
The dazzling spotlights, once brilliant, suddenly began to flicker erratically, like faulty wiring in an old horror film signaling a monster's arrival.
The puppet Charlie froze mid-motion, becoming as still as a lifeless doll, and toppled to the floor as the stage shuddered.
Dong Xiwen gripped the edges of his high-backed chair to keep from being thrown off. Cynthia, a half-second too slow to react, knocked her head against an adjacent chair before wrapping her arms around its back to hold on.
The floor began to plummet, dropping like an elevator whose cables had snapped. During the rapid descent, the gilded ceiling and walls lost their luster, becoming coated in black soot that crawled across the surfaces and filled the air with the acrid stench of something burning.
Then, in an instant, the shaking ceased. The scene around them had transformed into the ruins of a fire.
A sliver of moonlight streamed down through a crack in the dome overhead, illuminating a small patch of ground nearby.
[Main Quest Updated]
[Main Quest: Escape the Scarlet Theater]
As the two lines of system notifications appeared, Dong Xiwen finally realized the blind spot he had subconsciously ignored.
The main quest had never been explicitly stated. The performance—it was never the main quest at all!
It was entirely possible that the instance was only now, truly, beginning its main quest!
Still reeling, Dong Xiwen gasped for breath, his mind a complete blank.
Cynthia was in even worse shape.
It was hard enough for a woman in her seventies to participate in the Weird Game, let alone endure such a rapid series of drastic shifts.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to burst from her chest. Her vision swam, and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, convinced she was about to faint.
She squinted, trying to focus her vision, and suddenly saw Dong Xiwen staring past her, his eyes wide with shock, fixed on something directly behind her.
What... was back there?
Cynthia started to turn, but in the next instant, an icy cold line traced its way down the back of her neck—a deep, heavy slice.
A spray of warm blood erupted, and with it came the sudden, chilling realization of her own death. Cynthia opened her mouth to scream, but all that escaped was a wet, gurgling cough.
The elderly woman's head slammed onto the tabletop with a dull thud. Her body, now without support, went limp and slid from the high-backed chair, crumpling onto the scorched earth.
Dong Xiwen could only watch, paralyzed, as the masked young man behind Cynthia retracted a blood-soaked blade. Splatters of crimson stained his white shirt, lending him a terrifying, bloodthirsty aura.
He opened his mouth, but only a stammered question came out. "You... you killed her?"
"Mhm," the young man affirmed with a nod, a smile in his voice. "Which brings us to the next question: Do you want to live, or do you want to die?"
...
After striking his deal with Charlie, Qi Si had made a simple request: a convenient opportunity to kill someone.
For Charlie, this was hardly a difficult request. The NPC, who had grown indifferent to human life after countless games, agreed without a moment's hesitation.
Qi Si had been planning to kill Cynthia from the very beginning of the instance. He saw her as his own kind—someone with too many traits similar to his own.
At first, it was simply because she had survived this long despite her age and physical disadvantages. That alone suggested she was intelligent enough to be a significant threat.
Then he realized that as a high-ranking Federation official with deep ties to the Kyushu Guild, Cynthia could cause him significant trouble. There was no telling if she'd use her authority to dig into his background and put him on a wanted list in the real world.
Cynthia's recent betrayal—voting against him after making a deal—was a minor factor in his decision, but it didn't hurt to settle all accounts at once.
"By the way, everyone who dies here becomes part of the audience, right?" Qi Si had asked Charlie five minutes earlier.
Charlie had confirmed it.
Qi Si stroked his chin nonchalantly. "I have a score to settle with the person I'm about to kill. Execution by fire, that sort of thing... feel free to arrange it."
Charlie had agreed.
A short time later, the two scenes merged. Qi Si took Cynthia by surprise, slitting the back of her neck.
As for what would happen to her after death, that was no longer Qi Si's concern.
Now, Qi Si gazed at the stunned Dong Xiwen. Beneath his mask, his lips curved into a wry smile. "Sign a contract with me. I won't kill you, and I might even be able to get you through this instance alive."
Dong Xiwen fell into the kill-him-or-don't category, but the fact that he'd made it this far as a rookie meant there was something special about him.
After his experience with Chang Xu, Qi Si was wary of another god popping out of the woodwork to claim Dong Xiwen as their chosen protégé.
He was already being targeted by one immortal being; he had no desire to stir up another hornet's nest. Controlling the man with a contract was a far better deal than simply killing him. It was simple, convenient, and clean.
Dong Xiwen, oblivious to Qi Si's reasoning, couldn't fathom why this psychotic killer was suddenly showing him mercy.
The greasepaint clown mask hid every expression, making the young man seem both comical and inscrutable. Combined with the bloodstains on his clothes, it gave off the chilling vibe of a character from an arthouse slasher film, and Dong Xiwen didn't dare say another word.
Dong Xiwen swallowed hard. "What kind of contract?"
Qi Si snapped his fingers, and a crimson rain began to fall from the sky.
Countless tiny droplets of blood hovered before Dong Xiwen, coalescing into the spectral form of a long scroll.
Golden thread stitched itself across the crimson paper, spelling out the terms for pledging his soul. A gilded quill hovered by Dong Xiwen's hand, beckoning him to sign.
Dong Xiwen gripped the quill and read the one-sided terms over and over, his back drenched in sweat. "Man, this is worse than a deal with a demon. You're more ruthless than any capitalist..."
Qi Si turned his masked face toward him and asked earnestly, "So, you'd prefer to die?"
"...I'll sign." With a look of profound grief, Dong Xiwen signed his name, his mouth still running. "Hey, man, can we talk about this? It says you'll be in charge of my points from now on. Can you at least give me a ballpark figure? Just so I can be mentally prepared..."
The instant the final stroke was penned, the crimson scroll dissolved into droplets of blood, scattering into the void.
And in that moment, Qi Si learned Dong Xiwen's true name: Dong Zixi. "Is your brother's name Dong Ziwen?" Qi Si asked.
Dong Zixi froze. "How did you know that? Does this Soul Contract let you read minds?"
The Soul Contract couldn't read memories, of course—at least, not yet. But the name was an easy guess, given his alias.
Qi Si bent down and rolled Cynthia's body over. He pulled a cloth pouch filled with items from a hidden pocket in her formal dress, drew a short knife, and plunged it into her heart a few times for good measure.
An Identity Card lay inside the pouch. It depicted an androgynous magician in a black tuxedo embroidered with red patterns, taking a bow. A crowd was cheering wildly, but as the magician doffed their top hat, several blank white cards spilled out.
[Identity Card: Foolish Trickster]
[Effect: When upright, all your words will be believed; when reversed, all your lies will be exposed.]
The positive effect was incredibly powerful, but the negative one was just as crippling. No wonder Cynthia hadn't bound it to herself.
Already possessing the Rose Heart and all too aware of his own terrible luck, Qi Si decisively tossed the card into a forgotten corner of his inventory to gather dust.
He had to die once in Double Happiness Town to unbind Humanoid Evil; he had no desire to go through that again.
The pouch contained a jumble of other items, including a small vial of sleeping pills said to help players fall asleep quickly.
Failing to sleep at night during an instance was a good way to get killed, making the item incredibly useful. Still, Qi Si tossed it aside.
He was always cautious when it came to consumables like medicine. Who knew if it was poisoned? And even if it wasn't, there could be side effects.
Dong Zixi watched as Qi Si looted the corpse, only to discard most of the spoils with a look of disdain. He couldn't help but ask, "Man, you're not keeping any of that? Some of it looked pretty good..."
Qi Si scoffed. "Feel free to take a few pieces, if you're not afraid of the Federation hunting you down later."
Dong Zixi was aghast. "You're kidding. You think they actually put tracking devices on their items?"
"Who knows?"
Qi Si narrowed his eyes, gazing at the pile of junk on the table. For some reason, he found himself thinking wistfully of the late Hansen.
The man must have been carrying some decent gear. It was a shame he died when he did, his entire inventory going up in flames with him. A real pity.
And Cynthia... for someone who talked such a big game, her items were nothing but trash. If she'd had something on par with the Fate Pocket Watch, he would've gladly risked taking it...
Of course, it was also possible her most valuable items were bound to her inventory and couldn't be dropped on death.
After a moment of private regret, Qi Si turned and walked toward the beam of moonlight.
After a two-second hesitation, Dong Zixi followed, keeping his distance.
Their light footsteps seemed to disturb something. A sharp crackling erupted behind them as charred planks rained down from above, the sound of collapsing debris chasing their every step.
The old structure, unable to support its own weight, began to collapse in sections behind them.
Without looking back, Qi Si walked step by step into the light. When he finally looked up, the dome was gone, replaced by a vast, starless sky.
A solitary moon cast a deathly pale beam, illuminating a pit in the ground and making it stand out in the gloom.
Qi Si approached and saw a wooden chest resting quietly in the center of the pit, its surface marred by dirt and decay.
The chest was already open. Most of its former contents were gone, leaving behind only a single sheet of papyrus.
There was no script, no extraneous text, only four symbols that belonged to no known language—
[End of Act Three]
Two seconds later, silver text refreshed on the system interface.
[Main Quest Completed. The Instance's True Nature Has Been Uncovered.]
[Congratulations, Player, on clearing the multiplayer instance "The Grand Performance".]
[In this grand performance on the world's stage, actors—both leading and supporting—come and go. When the wild banquet ends and the guests scatter, we are, as ever, alone.]
A spectral image materialized against the dim backdrop.
Several figures with backpacks and shovels were digging in the dirt.
A shovel struck something hard, and one of them cried out in delight, "Found it!"
The figures gathered around, flinging away spadefuls of dirt to reveal a wooden chest buried beneath.
They opened the chest with excitement, carefully removed the pages within, and read the words aloud with reverence:
"The play, 'The Grand Performance'; the author, Charlie..."
The playwright Charlie wasn't incompetent; on the contrary, he was brilliant.
He could weave players with disparate backgrounds into a coherent drama. He could design game mechanics on par with the instance itself. He could even replicate the Identity Card system, creating his own unique character cards...
He never needed to feel resentful or inferior. His recognition was an inevitability, not a gift from the gods. But Qi Si had no intention of telling him any of this.
[The playwright awaits the gaze of his audience, just as the masses await a glance from the gods. As ordinary people fade into obscurity, is it not a form of happiness to have one's greatest wish fulfilled?]
["The Grand Performance" True End - "The Lonely Playwright" has been recorded.]
[Automatic teleportation from the instance in three minutes.]
A gentle breeze stirred their clothes. With the dust settled and the crisis averted, Dong Zixi could finally relax.
He glanced at Qi Si, who was standing silently nearby, and could no longer contain his curiosity. He sidled closer. "Hey, man, let me see what you really look like. I signed the contract, so it's not like I can tell anyone."
Qi Si was in a good mood, so he casually took off his mask and gave Dong Zixi a gentle smile.
Across his fair skin were more than a dozen gruesome, bloody gashes. They crawled over his face like centipedes, twisting grotesquely as he smiled.
Dong Zixi jumped back in shock. "Is this what it takes to be a veteran player? You're ruthless... even to yourself."
Qi Si lied with a perfectly straight face. "I'm disfigured. I wear the mask to hide the ugliness."
Dong Zixi was speechless. *Anyone could tell you did that to yourself with a knife after the instance started, okay?*
It was true. Qi Si had bought a mask, but still felt it wasn't safe enough.
So, after entering the instance, he had simply taken a blade to his own face.
Since the wounds wouldn't carry over outside the instance, he figured he might as well. It did hurt a bit, but it was tolerable.
In future instances, however, Qi Si wouldn't have to abuse himself like this.
Part of his deal with Charlie had been a modification to the mask, allowing it to fit his face more naturally...
At the thought, Qi Si's lips curled into a genuine smile. Of course, on that face, even the most harmless expression could only be described as terrifying.
The moon shone on. With nothing left to say, Dong Zixi found a dirt mound, sat down, and waited for the timer to run out.
Out of the silence, Qi Si asked abruptly, "Have you ever seen a ghost?"
Dong Zixi was baffled. "Huh? Does it count if I saw one in an instance?"
Qi Si said nothing.
Just a moment ago, when he'd glanced at Dong Zixi, he had seen two spectral figures superimposed over his body.
One was an echo of Dong Zixi himself. The other looked just like him but wore a sullen, hostile expression. It was staring directly at Qi Si, its gaze a clear warning.
Qi Si stroked his chin, his thoughts wandering. Perhaps that was the reason a rookie like Dong Zixi had made it this far into the game.
Then again—who knew?
(This chapter is finished)