Ye Shu tried to pull her chicken butt back in, but it was too late.
Her wide eyes locked with the hunter’s—suddenly, the air turned deadly still.
“I can’t believe I missed this… There’s a little mouse hiding on top!”
The lead hunter flashed a deathly grin at Ge Ge Ji, raising his gun to aim at the exposed half of her feathery tail.
“Cluck cluck cluck~”
Damn it, weren’t these NPCs supposed to *not* look up? Just my unlucky day?
How could her luck be this rotten? Barely five minutes into the game and she was already discovered!
Or maybe misfortune just clings to her like a curse.
As the hunter fired, Ge Ge Ji flapped her wings wildly—her chicken legs spinning, a little cyclone of panic.
That’s right! She ran for it.
Dexterous and fleet, Ye Shu dodged the bullet and tore out of the gift shop, moving like the wind.
Her form was magnificent, chicken wings swinging like fiery wheels, vanishing from the hunters’ sight in a flash.
“Boss… I’ve never seen prey run that fast!”
One of the hunters gasped behind her, eyes wide as Ge Ge Ji disappeared without a trace.
“This player’s got some skills!”
“Get her!”
“Bring the prey back—alive or not!”
The lead hunter, amusement flickering in his eyes, hoisted his weapon and sprinted after Ge Ge Ji.
“Cluck cluck cluck~”
Ye Shu darted across the map’s narrow alleys, her little feet leaving whirls of air in her wake—effortlessly losing the hunters tailing her.
“Cluck cluck cluck~”
Face it, you greenhorns aren’t nearly cunning enough to catch me!
If she weren’t classified as prey, with all the limitations that entails… Ye Shu would’ve returned fire already—there was a perfectly good rocket launcher lying in her inventory!
Come to think of it, the game only assigned 'hunter' and 'prey' roles…
It never actually said that prey couldn’t fight back.
Ge Ge Ji grinned, a sly cluck in her throat. She might’ve just found a bug.
Next time she runs into a hunter, she’ll put it to the test—if it works, she won’t have to sprint like mad across the whole map, with a lynch mob in tow.
……
The player chat zone exploded!
Everyone in sector a-101 was gossiping about one very famous chicken.
[Xiao Fen Hua Ping]: Whoa! That poor chicken! Imagine being chased by a dozen hunters at once.
[Ku Huang de Luo Ye]: That chicken’s speed is insane. All I see is afterimages, and the hunters’ faces are turning green from exhaustion. They’ve fired off fifty bullets and haven’t hit a single feather—haha, that’s our 101 pride right there!
[Tao Ci]: No, really—you should see how crazy these hunters have gone. I was standing right in front of them, but all they cared about was chasing down that chicken!
[Shou Tao]: Ge Ge Ji must be a pro gamer! You can barely see her shadow, and her agility’s gotta be over 30 points.
Su Bai, forced offline, scanned the comments, her face drawn and worried.
Players killed in-game weren’t silenced, but they couldn’t type or private chat either.
Before logging out of Hide and Seek, Xiao Shushu had said her mimicry was a live chicken. Was this relentlessly hunted chicken actually her?
Could that top player really be after Ye Shu?
But weren’t they supposed to not even meet each other this round?
Su Bai scratched at her messy hair, thumping the transparent wall of the lounge with growing frustration. Behind her, hundreds of fellow defeated players languished.
“Bang—”
Her blows rattled the invisible barrier, but it barely trembled.
“Save your strength,” a player behind her advised, edging back tactically from Su Bai’s fierce aura. “No matter how hard you glare, it won’t let you out.”
Su Bai stopped pounding the wall, settling in a corner with a heavy sigh.
Of course, she knew there was no way out… Besides, this wasn’t her first round of hide and seek.
Meanwhile, inside the game—
Ge Ge Ji found herself stalked by the lead hunter. This one was nothing like the usual blockheads: wherever she hid, he’d sniff her out, as if she’d been tagged with a tracker.
“Cluck~”
Unfair! There had to be some admin shenanigans going on.
Ye Shu had already taken two bullets. One more, and she’d be kicked out of the game.
Crouched in a sludge-dripping canal, she tried her best to blend into the shadows.
Minutes passed. Then, all too familiar footsteps echoed nearby.
A shadow in black combat gear—a robotic arm slung with a pistol—strode in. All cyberpunk fury and machined menace… and, Ye Shu had to admit, the hunter had disturbingly nice legs. Long enough, she thought wryly, to be worth her life. But something about him seemed hauntingly familiar, though she couldn’t place where she’d seen his face.
“Creak—”
“Little mouse, you’d better hide well,” purred a voice.
Ye Shu’s expression changed. Those legs were headed straight for the canal.
He’s onto me. Must stay calm… No panicking… If he’s just probing for a reaction, best not to bolt just yet.
“Creak, creak…”
The crackle of dried weeds snapping underfoot—he was getting closer.
The hunter raised his gun, aiming straight at Ye Shu’s trembling little chicken form.
“Cluck cluck cluck~”
She’d been found! Again! How the hell?! Did he have some kind of x-ray vision?
Ge Ge Ji leapt, her stubby legs kicking up dust as she ran the length of two fields.
“Bang, bang, bang—”
Risking a glance back, Ye Shu dodged bullets like a pro—until she crashed face-first into a wall.
Wait, no… Warm, soft, and very much alive—a hunter.
A cold sweat broke out across Ye Shu’s brow.
Another hunter! Out of the frying pan, into the fire. She was doomed.
She started to twist away, but when she caught a glimpse of the hunter’s face—someone she knew all too well—she froze.
Him?!
Last round, by some miracle, she hadn’t run into him—she’d nearly scrubbed his face from her memory.
And now, here he was, in-game again… Did the universe just want to torment her? Might as well have let a hunter finish her from the start.
Lin Qingyue’s eyes met Ge Ge Ji’s fierce chicken gaze. Ye Shu returned the glare, unflinching.
He paused, then let a slow smirk spread across his mouth.
Only one woman in this entire game would look at him that way in a killing match.
Last round, the system had shackled him; he couldn’t enter the game as a regular NPC.
The moment their eyes met, Ye Shu knew—his reaction told her he recognized her, too.
More hunters closed in from behind.
“So it’s you, little thing…”
The newcomer faltered at the sight of Lin Qingyue. Even among killers, this man radiated lethal danger; rumor had it, he’d been parachuted in from the top. Most like him wouldn’t stoop to play these sadistic kill-or-be-killed games—but Lin Qingyue was here, and that said it all.
Despite that, the other hunter still staked his claim: “Lin, I spotted this prey first…”
“Out of my way.”
Ge Ge Ji, the perpetual outsider, wisely retreated as the two men squared off.
Ye Shu cheered madly in her heart: Yes, yes, start fighting already!
If chaos broke out, she could slip away unnoticed. With only ten minutes left, all she had to do was survive a little longer.
“Lin, this little chicken’s mine. I hit her twice—she’s my prey according to the rules. You’re not going to break the rules, are you?” The hunter’s words dripped with menace, every syllable measured.
“I’ll say it again. Out.”
Two men, one chicken—the world’s strangest love triangle, with her as the prize.
No time to gawk. Ye Shu took off, grease on her heels.
Lin Qingyue—always with the intimidation acts, always so aloof. Tsk. Better to vanish now, before she became part of a crime scene.
By the time those two realized, Ge Ge Ji was long gone.