Chapter 97: Defying Heaven to Alter Fate (2)

Well, talk about the devil and he appears.

Still gripping his sword, he rolled his eyes and flipped off the heavens.

“Mr. You, what exactly happened?” Xiao Feng asked anxiously.

“Just call me by my full name—‘Mr. You’ sounds weird.”

It feels too easily associated with things like ‘Auschwitz Bathware’ or ‘Adolf Anti-Oil Shampoo,’ those ‘eighty-year-old bestsellers from Europe and America.’

You Anjian paused, then told Xiao Feng and his wife the truth: “The general situation is this—your family has been drawn into the killing ground and has become the mission location.”

Li Cheng thought for a moment, then turned to Xiao Feng and asked, “How well do you know Zhao Xinglang? How was his relationship with your parents? Does he know his family went bankrupt because of your father?”

Seeing Zhao Xinglang resurrected, Xiao Feng’s family was even more terrified, but the three players immediately noticed that Zhao Xinglang’s feet cast no shadow.

Li Cheng hesitated a moment, then said, “In this pre-death footage, Zhao Xinglang’s left hand seems to be holding something thin and flat—probably paper. It’s likely still in the study. Everyone, help look for it.”

A living man who had been visible just hours ago had suddenly died. You Anjian’s expression wasn’t good either. He was just about to step around the remains when Li Cheng, who had been silent until now, suddenly crouched beside the wreckage, flipped his palm—and pulled out a pair of chopsticks?

That leaves only one option left.

“Wait, why are you checking his contacts?” You Anjian couldn’t help asking. “Aren’t we supposed to find Feng Youyun? The system only gave us fifty minutes.”

Unfortunately, the study curtains were drawn, dimming the room. All they could faintly see in the eyeball’s reflection was a figure standing there—identity unrecognizable. When they shone a flashlight, the extra light passed straight through Zhao Xinglang’s body.

As Feng You had said, Zhao Xinglang was relatively reclusive; his contact list held few acquaintances—only Feng You, Xiao Feng, some classmates, and the villa’s maid and gardener. His note for Feng You read: [Uncle].

“Found it.” After a moment, Bai Zhi pulled a yellow sheet of paper from a crack beneath a cabinet. “Is this it?”

Before he could finish saying “Come,” his body suddenly stiffened, then swelled violently—and exploded, just as they had seen before.

Wait—the pre-death footage means Wang Beipo is definitely dead?

You Anjian spun around sharply and saw Li Cheng still standing at the study door, expression serious and focused.

He looked as if he were speaking to someone who didn’t exist. After a pause, he angrily said, “You use such a small child as a sacrifice? Isn’t it enough? Do you have to deliberately orchestrate all this? How could you bear it?”

A child? A sacrifice? Who was he talking to?

Tap-tap-tap!

Rapid footsteps came from above. Wang Beipo’s figure flashed past the second-floor railing—his face tense with fear, his shoulders, ribs, and arms covered in superficial wounds, as if fleeing something.

Zhao Xinglang was alive again—or rather, his image kept repeating. He now stood in the study, left hand holding something missing, right hand slamming the desk in fury at an invisible person: “What is this? What is this? How can you believe such nonsense? Destiny patterns are all lies!”

Since this is a mandatory mission, we’re definitely going to carry it out. You two have two choices: first, stay in the car and wait for us to return. Second, come with us back to the mountain villa.”

The yellow paper was full of creases, its edges charred, the left side smooth—as if cut from an old book.

Li Cheng said casually, “Feng You’s company is based in Sucheng, and his primary residence is also in Sucheng. This mountain villa in Wudun Town is just his ancestral home—he comes here for a while each year.”

Xiao Feng, overwhelmed by grief and terror, turned pale. His wife vomited outright, spilling onto the roadside grass.

Hearing this, Bai Zhi piloted the drone in a circle above the mountain villa—but found no trace of living people. When the drone tried to fly inside the villa, its connection to the remote controller severed cleanly, and it slowly landed on the ground.

You Anjian hesitated, drew his sword, and gently tapped Zhao Xinglang’s shoulder with the scabbard.

The group entered the house together. The surrounding light instantly darkened; a chilling, eerie cold filled the air, and their breaths formed visible clouds.

“Not clear yet.”

You Anjian was startled—he’d only heard from Changsun Yao that this ‘Pifu’ was a peculiar new recruit, but he didn’t know how exactly.

[Jia Shen Ji Si Xin You Jia Wu] [Zhuguang Baoqi Pattern, Peace and Joy]

“Alright.” Seeing his determination, You Anjian said no more and pressed the accelerator.

“‘Defying Heaven to Alter Fate’—does that refer to destiny patterns?”

The scabbard passed through Zhao Xinglang’s body as if it had no substance. He remained oblivious, still slamming the desk in rage, muttering, “I’ll never believe you again,”

Then he rushed out of the study, pulled out a phone from his pocket—the same one they’d found among the corpses.

Then he took a disposable phone, inserted Zhao Xinglang’s SIM card into it.

You Anjian dashed up the second floor, sprinting after him—but around the corner, Wang Beipo’s footsteps vanished, and all doors on either side of the hallway were shut.

[Ren Wu Gui Mao Geng Xu Ding Chou] [Wanfu Changsheng Pattern, Longevity and Vitality]

“Holy shit, bro, are you hungry?!”

“During the two years after I brought him home until my mother passed away, she treated him like her own son.”

These possibilities cannot be ruled out yet.”

What is this? Birth chart, destiny divination?

Li Cheng’s mind raced: “The former: April 12, 2002, 2–3 a.m. The latter: June 11, 2004, noon to 1 p.m.”

Personally, I think the second and third possibilities are more likely.”

When he wasn’t home, the villa was managed by the butler (adopted son) Zhao Xinglang, the maid, and the gardener. Now Zhao Xinglang is dead, Feng You is listed as missing in the mission log, so the villa should still have the maid, the gardener, and Wang Beipo, who was temporarily summoned.

Perhaps everyone in the villa is dead, and only Feng Youyun is alive—he witnessed the transformation.

“Of course not. And besides, we’re not close.”

“Running that fast?”

Li Cheng said casually, not intending to eat. He picked through the bloody pulp with his chopsticks, retrieving Zhao Xinglang’s wallet (containing ID documents) and the shattered smartphone, then extracted the SIM card.

“Alright,” Xiao Feng hesitated, then gritted his teeth: “We’ll go with you three.”

The ground was littered with fragments of human bones, skulls half-buried in soil, faces unrecognizable, bloodied and mangled. The thick stench of blood drew flies, buzzing in the air above.

Li Cheng circled to the front of Zhao Xinglang and studied his eyes, trying to discern who he was speaking to by the reflection in his irises.

Once the vehicle chose to move forward, the ghostly loop vanished instantly, and the group found themselves back at the iron gate.

As for the paper’s content.

“Xinlang…” Xiao Feng’s face was sorrowful; You Anjian’s expression shifted uncertainly—he now understood: the previous scene was Zhao Xinglang’s pre-death footage, not real. Thus, only one human explosion mark remained on the walls and ground around the gate.

You Anjian couldn’t help asking, “Who was he talking to? Feng You? The maid? The gardener? Surely not Wang Beipo?”

Xiao Feng, caught off guard, blinked, then, urged by his wife, replied: “I get along okay with Xinlang. He knew early on about the conflict between our families. His father’s business was already struggling—without my father’s competition, it still wouldn’t have survived.”

“The mission objective—[Find Feng Youyun, Uncover the Truth of the Residence]—seems at first glance to imply Feng Youyun caused the villa’s anomaly and knows its secret. But if you flip the perspective, this objective could also be a narrative trap.”

He’d read some materials on killing grounds and knew how dangerous they were—he understood that in such environments, only by sticking close to the transcendent could one increase survival odds. Besides, his father was still inside the villa.

Li Cheng said casually and stepped toward the left corridor—he seemed to hear a sound from there.

The study door was open. Zhao Xinglang, who had just exploded before their eyes, stood calmly behind the desk, passionately addressing empty air: “How can you believe such nonsense? Destiny patterns are all lies!”

This had occurred before in the ‘Curse of the Dead Hate’ scenario—similar to the house being enveloped by some force, severed from the real world.

Not an illusion—the voices from the study grew clearer the closer they approached.

(This disposable phone is a prepaid model, already loaded with sufficient credit, primarily for overseas travelers or temporary users—no registration or contract required. Available at Lujie.)

Contacts could be stored in the phone’s memory or on the SIM card. Fortunately, Zhao Xinglang used the latter, so his contact list was easily retrieved.

The group followed the strange Zhao Xinglang as he walked out of the villa, reached the iron gate, and dialed Xiao Feng’s number: “Hello, I’ve learned something. Where are you? Don’t come back to the villa. Leave. Don’t return.”

“Wait! It’s us! Don’t run!”

You Anjian shouted and waved frantically, but Wang Beipo acted as if he heard nothing, head down, sprinting wildly until his figure vanished around the second-floor corner.

Li Cheng stood calmly in place, even took out a measuring tape, exhaled slowly, and measured the length of his breath cloud, saying casually: “Three possibilities: one, he has a special skill that lets him project a shadow. Two, he’s been affected by something—he can’t see or hear us. Three, he’s already dead, and what we saw was just an illusion.”

Zhao Xinglang replayed the dialogue like a stuck tape.

Perhaps one or more of these three living people—or even the dead Zhao Xinglang—colluded with an outside force, triggering the anomaly.

“Alright,” Li Cheng thought for a moment, then turned to Bai Zhi: “Is the drone still charged? Could you please scan the house first?”

The splattered flesh had left a human-shaped shadow on the stone pillar beside the gate, still frozen in the pose of making a call.

Seeing his calm analysis, Bai Zhi couldn’t help turning to ask, “Aren’t you afraid?”

You Anjian frowned and returned to the first floor—not only because continuing the chase would separate him from his teammates, but also because…

“Wang Beipo has no shadow, right?”

“Why be afraid? We four arrived at the villa last night and didn’t trigger the mission. It only activated this afternoon when we split up—likely because the system judged that if four players were together, the mission difficulty would drop drastically.”

Remember how Xiao Feng mentioned earlier that he and his wife married very early, just barely meeting the legal age? Li Cheng turned to them, squinting: “Are these… your birthdays?”

In surprise and bewilderment, they slowly nodded.

(End of Chapter)