Otherwise, why would he let Ye Xiaoshu go? All those previous feelings must have been unconscious hallucinations.
The bodyguard was still racking his brain about how to report back, completely unaware that Lin Qingyue had, without a second thought, instructed him to drive directly back to Jinghua City.
……
"Achoo..."
After a string of sneezes, Ye Shu pinched her nose and continued lugging the oxygen concentrator towards her home.
The entire way, neither of them said a word. Ye Shu had never been much of a talker, and Fu Jingchuan was the same.
Returning to her place, Ye Shu realized her old neighbor had moved out.
And the new tenant across the hall—turns out, it was Fu Jingchuan.
Was all this just coincidence?
Fu Jingchuan did have some technical skills; tracking her address probably wasn’t difficult. Either way, as long as he harbored no ill intent, Ye Shu could let it slide.
"I just moved in. I didn’t check your private details before," Fu Jingchuan hurriedly explained, his guilty eyes darting away as soon as he caught her suspicious gaze.
"It’s nothing," Ye Shu waved her hand dismissively.
She had never been one to get hung up on trivialities—especially not now. Humanity on Blue Star had bigger worries: survival itself was an open question. Who had time for a little melodramatic romance?
"The core of this round is the oxygen extraction," Fu Jingchuan said. "I figure you found out before I did—the reason for all the accidents with aerospace craft and planes is that the planet’s oxygen is being siphoned away. As for how far this effect goes... I’m not sure yet. All I do know is, every day the oxygen starts disappearing at noon."
Ye Shu’s expression was grave, more serious than he’d ever seen before. Fu Jingchuan set his small talk aside and got out his laptop, pulling up files. "It matches what you described. I’ve also come across an oxygen concentration report—starting at noon, the atmospheric oxygen across the whole of Planet E is drawn out. That includes the ground, the water, even tiny bugs die out from hypoxia."
"I suspect, on the first day, the hypoxia window was only about 1 or 2 seconds."
"In such a brief span, no one notices anything weird—it just feels like an odd sensation. Players have to survive on Planet E for twenty days, the first week is a buffer given by the game."
"We need to stock up on as much oxygen as quickly as possible, or else... I’ve already ordered Pang Tong and Xiao Shiyi to collect oxygen tanks and concentrators from all over the cities. They should arrive within a couple of days."
Ye Shu agreed with Fu Jingchuan’s assessment.
On the second day of the game, half-awake, she’d only felt a slight shortness of air.
But her body had already been enhanced by the game's modifications; her constitution had improved too much for her to notice a few seconds of missing oxygen.
Across the way, in the old-style European building.
A pair of eyes lurking in the shadows stared hard at the pair.
Lin Qingyue's slender fingers drummed against the wooden panel, emitting a slow, grating ‘creak-creak’ through the silence.
"Boss... should I just get rid of him?"
The bodyguard couldn’t tolerate the nerve-jangling sounds or the heavy tension any longer. He’d thought this would be easy money. He hadn’t expected to draw the short straw.
"No need."
"Just keep watch on him for me," Lin Qingyue said.
He absolutely refused to admit it.
How had it come to this—spying on Ye Xiaoshu from hiding?
Killing that Fu guy... wouldn’t that be tacitly acknowledging something?
He was just lying in wait, searching for any flaw in that woman’s resurrection talent; it had nothing to do with desire.
Fu Jingchuan frowned slightly, gaze fixed on the neglected building across the street.
That eerie prickle crept up his back again. Stronger than last time—even more intense!!
Fu Jingchuan activated his Eye of Foresight.
He saw himself held down by an indistinct figure, body slick with blood, breath seeping away.
Judging by the build, it was a man...
But as far as he knew, he hadn’t made any fatal enemies in the game. Was someone going to come for his oxygen tanks?
"Fu Jingchuan?"
Ye Shu stared at the man lost in thought, waving a hand in front of his face.
But the skill hadn’t finished. Through the Eye of Foresight, Fu Jingchuan saw a shadowy black mist roiling around Ye Shu’s body.
It moved as if alive, releasing waves of ominous energy.
Before he could scrutinize it, a stabbing pain erupted in his eyes. He reached up and felt a smear of hot, sticky fluid.
The coppery tang made Fu Jingchuan realize—his eyes were bleeding.
He’d blinded himself—temporarily, at least!
His talent had just leveled up after a brush with death, but he’d barely had time to study it. First use, and the price was this steep.
And Ye Xiaoshu... what kind of person was she?
What was that dark aura?
Just a single glance, and his SS-rank Eye of Foresight suffered a fierce backlash, wounding its user—that was unheard-of.
Unperturbed by his bloody tears, Ye Shu calmly pulled out her phone and dialed emergency services.
Some problems were best left to the professionals.
But before the call went through, Fu Jingchuan stopped her. "Don’t bother, it’s useless. I overused my precognition ability and injured my eyes—just need a couple days to recover."
He wiped the blood from his face and smiled, signaling for Ye Shu not to worry.
He wanted to ask about the black mist, but after a moment’s hesitation, left it unsaid.
Everyone’s entitled to their secrets.
Maybe that was Ye Xiaoshu’s personal gift, but it left him with an uneasy feeling.
Fu Jingchuan, still unaccustomed to this place and half-blind, had to be guided home by Ye Shu, who, ever thoughtful, also ordered him takeout (to be paid for by him, naturally).
The oxygen concentrator arrived fully equipped, complete with a heap of extra oxygen bags courtesy of the seller.
Using the short respite, Ye Shu set about filling all the oxygen bags, storing them away for rainy days.
Soon enough, midnight approached—11:55 PM.
Fu Jingchuan’s eyes had recovered a little; he could at least navigate his way around.
Together, they decided to test the other components of the air, to see if oxygen was the only element being extracted.
Day five of the game.
At exactly twelve o’clock.
The sky was as black as ink, smothered by a celestial darkness more chilling than any night.
In the blink of an eye, the oxygen was gone.
Ye Shu felt the tightening pressure of suffocation and started the timer.
1, 2, 3... 16 seconds.
Fu Jingchuan measured the air with his instrument—every component was unchanged, except that oxygen read... 0%.
The two exchanged long glances.
They were beginning to grasp the game’s cruel logic.
The hypoxia game was simple: the deprivation period doubled each day. Day five, sixteen seconds. Day four, eight. Day three, four. Day two, two. Day one... just a single second.
By their calculations, tomorrow the deprivation would jump to thirty-two seconds, and the next day, sixty-four...
By the twentieth day, the window would be... 524,288 minutes.
Which is 145 hours.
This game was a deathtrap.
Without an oxygen cylinder strapped to you 24/7, no human could hope to survive.
Ye Shu’s face turned ashen. For the first time, she was truly angry.
No wonder... this survival game was named—“The Human Purge Plan.”
From the very start, the game had never intended for anyone on Planet E—players or not—to make it out alive.
……
Sixteen seconds.
Sixteen seconds with every molecule of oxygen stripped from the air.
Even the slowest among them would have caught on by now.