Chapter 452: Seek Your Own Fortune

Qing Qing let out a cold snort, retracted her dagger, sat down again, her back to them, her posture still relaxed, yet like a leopard coiled to strike.

In the private room, Cheng Shuili raised her eyebrows slightly.

Qing Qing's temperament suited her taste—no dilly-dallying, and when it was time to be ruthless, she never hesitated.

In this man-eating place, this is the correct way to survive.

No wonder she is the first Gu Lang of the Long Guo Alliance.

As for those players… Cheng Shuili's gaze swept lightly over their shrinking figures.

May you find your own fortune.

The theater's lights, in that tense aftermath, dimmed again without warning, more thoroughly than any previous time.

Darkness, like thick ink, instantly swallowed everything.

From the audience seats came several stifled gasps and hurried breaths.

While everyone waited for the Gray Puppet to appear on stage for the set, the lights suddenly brightened once more.

The players in the audience seats instantly looked toward the stage—empty, with no set, not even a Gray Puppet in sight.

Watching this, Cheng Shuili felt something was off.

No set, and no puppet appeared.

What does it mean? Are they supposed to have the players perform on stage? Or perhaps this time the stage isn't under the spotlight?

Just as that thought flashed through her mind, the lights dimmed again, and a shrill, short scream tore through the silence!

The sound came from the rear of the audience seats—not where the few players had just gathered, but from deeper within the seats, a male player who had always been silent and alone.

"Ah—! What is it?! Let go of me!!"

Immediately followed was the loud crash of tables and chairs being overturned, and the sound of a body wildly struggling and rolling in the narrow aisle.

"Get out! Get out!"

His hoarse shout was filled with utter terror, then abruptly cut off, turning into a chilling "huh-huh" sound and a faint crack of bones being crushed.

After a few seconds, all struggling motion ceased.

Dead silence fell once more.

But this silence was heavier than before, filled with an invisible scent of blood.

"Who… who's there?" the short‑haired female player's trembling voice cried, tears in her tone, "Just now, who was it? What happened?"

No one answered.

In the darkness, heavy breathing grew more numerous, fear spreading like a plague.

Qing Qing was no longer in her original spot.

At the instant the scream rang out, she slipped away like a ghost, moving silently into the shadow between two decorative pillars, her body pressed against the cold wall.

She could feel her heart beating steadily, the dagger's hilt warmed by her palm.

Her gaze was sharp, sweeping toward the direction of the sound.

It was too dark to make out any clear details.

But that brief, violent struggle could not have been caused by a mere human brawl.

Something had struck in the darkness, with extreme speed and immense strength.

"The… the lights—why aren't they on? Isn't the third act starting?"

The bespectacled male player also panicked, his voice losing its earlier urgency, leaving only fear.

"Back to back! Quick! Form a back‑to‑back circle!"

The older male player shouted hoarsely, his voice distorted by fear.

The survivors huddled together like a frightened flock of sheep.

The short‑haired woman, the bespectacled man, the older man, and two other players, five of them trembling, formed an outward‑facing circle, their weapons shaking as they pointed into the darkness.

To Qing Qing, this frail defensive circle was nothing more than a ludicrous illusion born of fear.

In the darkness, a hunter's attack could come from an unpredictable direction—even from below or above—so what could back‑to‑back possibly defend against?

Moreover, in absolute fear and darkness, how could you be sure that what presses against your back is still your companion?

She remained still, like a cold stone set in the shadow.

Her breath was barely audible, yet all her senses were heightened to the extreme.

She listened, detecting every discordant vibration in the air, every hint of an abnormal scent.

"Huh… huh…"

A weak, viscous panting sounded from a row of seats less than five meters from her hiding place—not human breathing, more like the sudden appearance of a zombie in a zombie film, labored and only able to emit such a strange sound.

A strong sweet‑scented odor followed, clearer than before.

Qing Qing's body tensed like a drawn bow; she slowly shifted to the side‑rear, using the curve of the thick decorative pillar to conceal herself further.

The dagger's blade lay flat against the ground to avoid any reflection.

She waited, also assessing the current situation.

Was the source of this sound the player who had just been attacked in the rear?

Or… could there be more than one thing lurking in the darkness?

Qing Qing hadn't figured it out yet when the lights brightened once again.

The lights flared suddenly, making pupils contract.

The entire theater lay exposed in the dead silence.

Her eyes instantly swept over the spot where the sound had come from—empty, no one there.

Only crimson—glaring crimson—splashed across the deep‑red velvet seats, winding its way onto the worn carpet of the aisle, leaving a large pool of still‑uncoagulated, viscous blood.

Several shreds of cloth torn away by brute force lay scattered among it, and… a small fragment of pallid finger bone.

No corpse, no signs of struggle, only this mess of blood silently telling everything that had happened here just a few seconds ago.

Less than two meters from that bloodstain, a doll in gray work clothes stood silently, its back turned toward Qing Qing's kiss.

Its posture was extremely odd, body slightly leaned forward, but its head twisted backward at an impossible angle, that stiff, deathly pale face just "looking" toward the direction where Qing Qing's kiss was hidden.

The painted corners of its mouth were split into a huge, stiff arc, and in its dark eye sockets, some unspeakable malice seemed to be flowing.

It remained motionless, as if it were part of the stage set, just illuminated by the light.

But the hairs on Qing Qing's kiss stood up instantly.

When did this doll appear there?

Before the lights went out? Or just now?

Has its face always been facing this direction, or… did it just turn just now?

The players still alive in the audience were also stunned by the sudden light and the horrific sight before them.

Eyeball Man and the short-haired female player both clutched their mouths tightly to keep from screaming, but tears streamed uncontrollably down their faces.

The older male player's face was ashen as paper, his hand gripping his weapon shaking violently.

The other two survivors leaned back-to-back, panting from shock, their fearful eyes scanning the surroundings.

They also saw that doll, and the pool of shocking blood in front of it.