[S-rank Peachwood Sword: Dispels evil, wards off misfortune, attracts blessings, and wields the same power against the uncanny (cannot be dropped)]
Once bound, the peachwood sword was transformed from its former battered state. Its reddish blade now stretched a meter and a half, the hilt etched with drifting clouds, a silver tassel shimmering with a kaleidoscope of colors—one look and you knew this was no ordinary relic.
Perhaps—just perhaps—she might finally have the means, with this sword, to slay that uncanny thing.
Twice now had Ye Shu been slain by it; hatred festered in her heart. She longed to kill the uncanny with her own hands, if only to vent this burning resentment.
She had run before only because she was too weak. It was like they always said: 'A powerless nation has no diplomacy; the truth lies within artillery range.' Ye Shu found the same cruel maxim applied to her now.
After exterminating the eerie menace, the once serene temple was transformed into a charnel house. Blood was everywhere—monks and visitors alike soaked in scarlet, the stone paths and the earth beneath dyed a terrible red, none left alive.
Twice she’d faced death, but Ye Shu could not withstand such carnage. She suddenly doubled over, retching.
Securing the peachwood sword at her waist, Ye Shu stepped out from the temple—and promptly collided with Pang Tong.
"You are... Pang Pangzi?"
Ye Shu lowered her gaze, eyeing the sobbing man before her, her eyes darkening.
"Noble Ye, at last! When I woke and didn’t see you, I thought you’d left me behind. At the door, I ran into one of those uncanny things—I barely escaped with an invisibility talisman..."
"The real deal, I swear it. Couldn't be any truer."
Ye Shu moved closer, noting that the cinnabar on her wrist did not react.
Despite Pang Pangzi’s ceaseless complaints, she believed him.
"You just woke up?"
Ye Shu processed this quickly.
It was likely Jinshan Temple had already fallen—become a haven for the uncanny. Any survivors who stumbled in would be drawn into this surreal nightmare. From the moment they’d heard the bell, the illusion had begun.
No wonder Pang Pangzi had felt unsettled since entering the temple. It was all a dream—an uncanny dream.
The sunlight vanished; the air was thick and gray, a premonition of doom.
Not wanting further trouble, the two decided to spend the night in their car.
They rigged up a crude camp stove. Ye Shu made a bowl of hot-and-sour noodles—the broth bubbling as she scarfed it down ravenously, cheeks bulging like a squirrel’s.
Chased all morning by a malevolent specter and a hungry ghost, her strength was long since spent.
Pang Tong: "..."
Turning away, he gnawed at a compressed biscuit.
This was only the sixth day of the game. Fewer than seventy thousand players remained—every second, another victim.
[Orange Isle: Six days, nine hundred thousand dead! Mom, I want to go home.]
[Angry Sagittarius: This ghost game—does it ever let anyone live?]
[Super Invincible Iron-Blooded Warlord of the Universe: It could kill us anytime, but it insists on sending us through the uncanny world first. That's its tragic sense of justice!!]
[Rabbit Who Loves Marshmallows: Damn! Barely survived—there’s a terrifying uncanny thing near Xingyue Hotel. Twenty people in my squad wiped out. I only made it by covering myself in Oreos and hiding in a trash pile!]
[Old Bai Zhou: Wait, does that actually work? You're a genius—maybe the uncanny thing was just too grossed out to notice you.]
[...]
Ye Shu’s gaze lingered on Rabbit Who Loves Marshmallows—was the Xingyue Hotel the very place she'd escaped from?
She opened the player chat and sent a private message.
[ImYourDaddy: The Xingyue Hotel you mentioned—is that in F City?]
[ImYourDaddy: Was the uncanny being wearing a black hoodie and a gray cap?]
A quick reply flashed up.
Rabbit Who Loves Marshmallows responded with a definitive yes.
A chill spread through Ye Shu’s blood, her eyes flashing with murderous intent—her face twisted, almost monstrous.
"Noble Ye?"
Pang Tong felt his breath catch, glancing over to find Ye Shu calmly eating her noodles, all tranquil contentment, making him doubt his own sixth sense.
He was not mistaken—among the abilities his card-draw had granted him was super-sensory perception.
He could sense danger and even sniff out malevolent thoughts.
Outside the temple, he’d used his extrasensory skill—felt something dreadfully wrong, drained himself entirely, and promptly passed out.
That odd lapse had saved his life.
"You want some?"
Pang Tong had fled in haste—apart from his supplies on the bedsheet, he hadn’t managed to grab much, scraping together only compressed biscuit, bottled water, preserved plums, candy, and a bag of dried fruit from a convenience store.
"Mmm-hmm!"
Pang Pangzi eyed her oily noodles with envy, nodding like mad.
"No, no—that’s too kind!"
He’d never imagined Noble Ye would let him tag along, let alone fill his belly. He could hardly ask for more.
"Trade me some plums."
Ye Shu tossed a bag of instant noodles his way, fishing out packets of preserved plums for herself. Their sweet-sour tang soothed a bit of her madness.
With a mouthful of spicy noodles, Pang Pangzi seemed to come alive again.
Perhaps it really was the sword at work, for they saw nothing uncanny or unnatural that night, passing it in uneasy peace.
………………
On the seventh day of the game, fewer than five thousand players remained.
The chat channels were no longer bustling. Danger pressed in from all sides; everyone was careful not to attract the uncanny and forfeit their lives.
Most posts were desperate cries for help—useless, for experienced players could barely fend for themselves, much less rescue others.
Ye Shu switched on her phone—there was still internet near Jinshan Temple. Plugging in a power bank, she scrolled through local forums.
[Super Sailor Moon: What are those things hiding in the dark? Ghosts? Please help—I'm holed up in a bathroom and too scared to move.]
[Size 43: I’m Li Hua’s son, please someone come save me! I swear, I'll give ten million Dragon Coins and a luxury courtyard in Dragon City!]
[Wanwan: Dream on, Bigfoot. Who cares about houses and money now? It's the end! We're all at the mercy of these uncanny things—just surviving is enough.]
[Rabbit Who Loves Spicy Rabbit Heads: Don’t make eye contact—never lock eyes with it. The uncanny only kills when it knows you’ve seen it. Best act blind. The army's been mobilized—if we hold on, we might just live.]
The posts continued to refresh in real time.
Ye Shu, scanning the string of IP addresses, had a bad feeling. The uncanny had spread everywhere—no corner of the world was safe.
At nine that morning, the sky was already dark and cold; the vast space eerily silent, not even an insect chirring.
Worse, daylight hours had shortened—again.
Ye Shu swept through the temple, sword in hand, leaving no stone unturned. Still, she found nothing.
Luck was with her: aside from the thing she’d already slain, nothing else lurked around Jinshan Temple.
"Noble Ye, what do we do next?"
Pang Tong pinched his nose, disgusted—the air around them thick with the metallic stench of old blood.
"We stay."
No new uncanny beings dared intrude on Jinshan Temple—the one from yesterday must have marked the place. For now, relatively speaking, it was safe.
Staring at the carnage-stained floor, the two of them cleaned out adjoining meditation chambers.
Pang Tong’s was right next to Ye Shu’s. If he could, he’d have stayed at her side forever, even if it meant sleeping on the hard floor.