Chapter 67 — IAVD (QT) Chapter 67

Huang Wenli’s words struck like a bolt from the blue.

Wu Letong froze where he stood. Replaying what had just happened, his vision went black and he nearly fainted.

Right—this belonged to the boss.

Seeing his reaction, Huang Wenli was extremely pleased. She scrunched her nose at Wu Letong in smug triumph, tugged Lu Zhizhen along, and turned to go inside.

Wu Letong was left standing alone in the courtyard, lowering his head to look at the treasure in his hands. A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, like being torn from a beloved at death’s door. Speechless with grief, he reluctantly set the firewood chopper down.

This was the boss’s thing. The boss was terrifyingly ruthless—he hadn’t said anything about giving it away. How would Wu Letong dare take it?

If he took it, wouldn’t that be like snatching food from a tiger’s jaws right on the spot?

But he wasn’t Wu Song.

With his heart aching as though half of it had been gouged out, Wu Letong turned away, determined not to look again. He left the chopper where it was and went inside as well.

The few people left in the courtyard exchanged glances, each harboring their own thoughts.

It was just a firewood chopper. A boss with such wealth and power probably wouldn’t care, right?

Reaching the same conclusion in one another’s eyes, they felt encouraged. Their expressions shifted in turn, and their gazes began to linger greedily on the chopper.

This was a good item—so good that even Wu Letong, an old player who had experienced three worlds, treasured it this much. If they got their hands on it, wouldn’t they be able to walk all over everyone?

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

The woman who had experienced one world stepped forward, rebuking them sharply. “Do you have a death wish? Even Wu Letong doesn’t dare take that thing. Do you think you’re better than him? You dare covet something like this?!”

The newcomers paused. Their minds, clouded by greed, slowly cleared. A heavy gloom settled in their hearts, and they wilted, sighing.

That’s right—if even Wu Letong didn’t dare take it, then if they did, they’d probably be signing their own death warrants.

The woman snorted, clearly not bothering to look at them anymore, and coldly went inside.

The newcomers felt stifled and helpless. What could they do? They were newbies, with no say at all. The woman was easygoing toward Wu Letong, but she showed them no such kindness. One by one, they followed inside, resentful yet powerless.

The courtyard fell silent.

Three minutes later, the woman’s figure appeared again.

Seeing no one around, she quickly tucked the firewood chopper into her clothes, hid it against her body, and slipped upstairs.

Someone called out to her to come eat. Without even turning her head, she said, “I’m in a bad mood. Don’t feel like eating.”

Thinking of how she’d been toyed with by Huang Wenli earlier that day, everyone understood. Besides, it had nothing to do with them, so no one called again.

After she disappeared, half an hour passed. Wu Letong came out into the courtyard to get some air and noticed the chopper was gone from the corner. He felt a bit puzzled, but quickly couldn’t be bothered to think further.

Same old saying—none of my business.

If the boss took it, that was only natural. It was his in the first place.

If one of the newcomers took it and something happened, that would just be what they deserved. He wasn’t their father; he didn’t have to watch over them at every turn. People determined to court death couldn’t be saved.

Wu Letong was far more concerned about the boss’s family.

At dinner earlier, neither the boss’s wife nor his son had appeared. Only the boss brought the dishes to the table, watched them finish eating, then cleaned up and returned to the room. Who knew what the family was discussing inside?

Wu Letong really wanted to sneak over and eavesdrop—but valuing his life, he didn’t dare. He paced restlessly around the courtyard, anxiety gnawing at him.

Huang Wenli and the others called out to him from the doorway.

Wu Letong snapped back to his senses and went upstairs with them to talk.

On the stairs, he didn’t see Huang Wenli. Lu Zhizhen was walking alone at the back, looking distracted.

Wu Letong was her fan and paid close attention to her expressions. Thinking she might be afraid of ghosts, he stopped and tried to comfort her.

Lu Zhizhen was startled, then smiled helplessly. “Thank you. I’m actually fine. You get used to being afraid. I was just thinking about something else.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Don’t you feel that the boss’s existence is completely out of place with the whole village?”

Is it? Wu Letong was blank.

Lu Zhizhen began to analyze it for him. “If the boss didn’t exist, this village would be a very typical story: villagers bully a widow and her child, driving them to death; they become ghosts and return for revenge; under the shadow of a vengeful spirit, villagers die one by one… We’re outsiders, an anomaly in the story. Logically, one anomaly—us—should be enough. So why is there also the boss?”

“And think about it. When we met the boss, it was outside Ji Family Village. There’s only one road outside the village—follow it and you get back. Why did the boss say he was lost and wanted to go with us? Would a local not know the road and need a group of outsiders to lead him?”

Wu Letong was an old player. He had fixed assumptions, believing from the start that the boss was some kind of helper or lifeline sent by the game. He’d never questioned whether the boss’s appearance was abnormal.

Lu Zhizhen and the others were newcomers. Without prior experience, they dared to think boldly and were good at spotting anomalies.

And sure enough, Lu Zhizhen’s thoughts made Wu Letong freeze. Following her line of reasoning, he began to sense the subtle wrongness beneath it all.

Seen this way, the boss’s appearance really was far too discordant.

And so far, among the family of three, only the boss seemed human—the difference between him and the other two was enormous.

Could he be some kind of ultimate game boss?

Otherwise, how could he slaughter the entire village without a change of expression, then turn around and calmly cook for them?

Wu Letong scratched his head, about to say more, when a terrified scream suddenly rang out.

“Ah—!”

Wu Letong’s face changed. He exchanged a look with Lu Zhizhen, and the two of them rushed into the room.

When he saw the scene, regret washed over his face.

Lu Zhizhen followed, heart pounding. One look inside and her face went pale.

Someone else was dead.

The woman who had been arrogant and domineering just hours earlier now lay in the corner, her body mangled, her expression desperate, eyes wide open in death.

She liked wearing red dresses, showing off her arms and calves. Red flattered her complexion, making her skin look pale.

But now, her arms and calves were covered in horrifying bloody handprints—large and small, long and short. The red of the blood blended with the red of the dress, indistinguishable, so that at a glance it seemed as though the entire room was flooded with a bleak crimson.

“What… what happened…” Lu Zhizhen covered her mouth, her face drained of color.

Yesterday, with Ji Xiu’s timely intervention, she had avoided seeing the middle-aged man’s corpse. But she couldn’t avoid the next one. She was finally seeing the cruelty of this world with her own eyes.

No wonder the other newcomers had broken down yesterday.

Knowing that the boss’s wife and son were ghosts was one thing—but they looked normal, not frightening. They didn’t feel real, so the fear was muted.

But corpses were real, lying right in front of them—companions they had been with just moments ago.

They’d been talking one second, and the next, without warning, they were dead. Anyone would have trouble accepting that.

Lu Zhizhen turned her head away, chilled to the bone, unable to look any longer.

She was at least an adult who had weathered many storms and could maintain a façade of calm. Huang Wenli, however, couldn’t.

She’d finished eating and gone upstairs early, alone.

Entering the room and turning on the light, she’d seen the horrifying corpse at her feet and nearly scared herself senseless, almost losing consciousness on the spot.

In the end, she was just a pampered, willful little girl.

After struggling to catch her breath, she let out a scream that drew everyone else. When she saw Lu Zhizhen—the one she relied on—she stopped caring about anything else, threw herself into Lu Zhizhen’s arms, clung to her waist, and trembled violently.

“Sister Lu, I’m so scared…”

Lu Zhizhen was scared too, fully empathizing, but she forced herself to pat her back. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”

As she spoke, she motioned for Huang Wenli to hide behind her.

Huang Wenli finally relaxed a little, thanked Lu Zhizhen, and quickly retreated behind her.

That left Wu Letong alone, facing the corpse directly.

Fortunately, Wu Letong didn’t mind. As usual, he stepped forward to examine the body.

One look—and he frowned, staring fixedly at a single spot.

The boss’s firewood chopper was here.

Wu Letong looked at the woman in the red dress and ground his teeth. “I thought at most it was one of the newbies who took it. I didn’t expect her to be even stupider than them!”

She’d already been through one world—how could she still dare to grab things recklessly?

Everyone else was carefully avoiding death traps, and she alone went around doing whatever she wanted. At this point, she had only herself to blame.

What was strange, though, was that the chopper lay right by her feet.

This chopper had a pronounced effect against supernatural beings. If she’d picked it up, she might have been able to fight back against the ghost.

But instead, she seemed to be avoiding it at all costs. Her corpse was curled up in a bizarre, defensive posture, desperately trying to get away from the chopper.

Wu Letong’s heart rose into his throat as he stared at it.

He knew it—this thing wasn’t so easy to take.

There was definitely something wrong with this blade.

The newcomers from other rooms, hearing the commotion, slowly gathered as well. Seeing the woman’s corpse and the chopper at her feet, they were furious. “She told us not to take it, and then she went and took it herself.”

Wu Letong shot them a cold glance. “What—do you want to lie here like her too?”

They froze, then belatedly felt grateful. Right—thankfully they hadn’t taken the chopper. Otherwise, who knew who would be dead now?

…

Meanwhile, downstairs.

Ji Xiu was talking with Wang Qiuyue, Ji Chunsheng leaning against him.

As the masters of Ji Family Village, Wang Qiuyue and Ji Chunsheng were the most attuned to its movements.

They both knew exactly what Ji Xiu had done that afternoon. Their emotions at this moment were complex—complex, yet laced with a faint trace of joy.

Those villagers deserved to die a hundred times over and still not quell the hatred in her heart.

But doing it herself and having Ji Xiu do it for her carried entirely different meanings.

“Ji Xiu,” Wang Qiuyue grasped his hand. “Aren’t you afraid?”

Ji Xiu’s expression was calm as ever. He rubbed his son’s head, answering casually, “Afraid of what? A bunch of weak, useless trash who bully the soft and fear the strong—that’s all.”

Wang Qiuyue studied his face intently, a flicker of doubt crossing her eyes. “But those were living people. These past few years… did you really just go out to work, or did you go to prison? You used to never even get into fights…”

Ji Xiu turned to look at her, helpless and amused. “I didn’t go to prison. I was just deceived by the messenger who brought word, made to think you were living well. That’s why I felt at ease working outside.”

“You ask why I can kill people so calmly—of course it’s because…” His voice lowered slightly. “They’re no longer human.”

Wang Qiuyue froze. Her expression slowly shifted as she looked at Ji Xiu, astonished and unsettled.

That’s right—those people were no longer human.

But how did Ji Xiu know that?