“…What are you thinking?” Han Jiao, previously pleased for Zaoya, suddenly sounded hesitant, cautiously asking Wen Renxi.

Something was off.

Wen Renxi looked younger and smaller, seemingly fragile – the type to die first in an infinite world. And she was “poor,” clearly lacking items.

Yet, facing Wen Renxi, Han Jiao had an instinctive unease, like… she searched her mind, finding an apt comparison.

Like a herbivore facing a carnivore, vigilant and submissive, even if the carnivore seemed satiated.

But Han Jiao dismissed the comparison.

Why was she the herbivore? Just because Wen Renxi was physically strong? She might lack strength, but she was “wealthy.”

“I’m not thinking anything. I’m happy for Zaoya. She might get to see the outside world,” Wen Renxi replied, smiling, her hand remaining on her knife hilt.

It’s no good.

She really wanted to slaughter the villagers.

Just kill them all; they seemed irredeemable.

With them dead, no one would wear the snow wedding gown.

“…Really?” Han Jiao was doubtful. Was Wen Renxi truly happy for Zaoya? Why did it feel so unsettling, like she’d charge back to the village and massacre them all?

Han Jiao’s animal instincts were justified; some players did adopt a slaughter approach.

After surviving in these nightmare worlds for long, some eccentricity was understandable.

“Of course, I am. Aren’t you?”

Happy? Yes, but something felt strange. Han Jiao didn’t sense genuine joy from Wen Renxi.

“Why don’t you look happy?”

Wen Renxi was surprised by Han Jiao’s emotional perceptiveness.

“I was wondering, if we figured out the bride doesn’t have to be Zaoya, won’t others? If so, they might give up searching for Zaoya and persuade Mr. Hu to accept another girl. We wouldn’t know and fail the mission.”

The reasoning was sound, too sound, instantly grabbing Han Jiao’s attention.

Wen Renxi was right.

If others realized, they might abandon Zaoya and convince Mr. Hu to make a switch.

The mission would fail.

Failure meant death.

The thought sent chills down Han Jiao’s spine.

“…We have to go back.”

They couldn’t hide with Zaoya and return at the last minute!

What could they do?

Wen Renxi, watching Han Jiao’s contemplation, told herself to be patient.

She had a brilliant idea.

Killing was illegal, really illegal, so she’d avoid it if she could. She was a good person.

“My item watching the village expired. We don’t know what’s happening there.”

Han Jiao was anxious. Wen Renxi’s words weren’t empty threats. They amplified her worry.

“We have to go back.” Han Jiao bit her lip, determined.

Hiding was not an option.

They had to return.

“What about Zaoya?”

“Let her go. We’re going back.” Letting Zaoya go was Han Jiao’s compromise; returning with her was the safest option.

But Han Jiao felt compassion, recalling their earlier conversation.

She knew they were in a nightmare world, not real people, but couldn’t help herself.

“Okay.”

With a plan, they woke Zaoya. Hearing they were returning to the village, Zaoya refused to leave. “I can hide myself, and escape if found.”

She was afraid to be alone.

Wen Renxi agreed.

It was still night, with unknown dangers, so they remained until dawn before heading back.

They moved cautiously, Wen Renxi alert, ready to hide Zaoya if needed.

Even replacements took time, but Zaoya was still the prime target.

“Zaoya, how long after death do people bury their dead here?”

If Mr. Hu could choose another bride, could they eliminate Mr. Hu’s son instead? Destroying his coffin might be a radical change. Of course, this would cause mission failure.

If Wen Renxi tried this, the players would stop her.

“I don’t know. Usually seven days, but not now. Without a bride, he won’t be buried.” Zaoya shivered at the mention of the bride.

Wen Renxi understood.

Without a bride, the corpse wouldn’t be buried.

In the summer heat, despite the mountain’s coolness, that was concerning.

Perhaps she could help? Mr. Hu’s son wouldn’t want to remain unburied; she would be doing him a favor.

Setting out at dawn, they reached the village perimeter. Zaoya hid.

Wen Renxi and Han Jiao returned to the Hu’s.

Qin Guoan, about to leave, was relieved to see them.

After their absence, he feared the worst.

Of the six who left last night, two returned empty-handed, and four vanished. Now, Wen Renxi and Han Jiao were back, but the other two were missing.

Learning two were missing and one was dead, Han Jiao trembled, her eyes wide with fear.

Wen Renxi had said the beasts attacked during her fight with Huang Pingyu, causing her to flee. Huang Pingyu’s absence was ominous.

Only seven players remained.

Just one night.

“How did Shao Xiaofeng die?”

Wen Renxi, learning of Shao Xiaofeng’s death, asked.

“Suffocation. He had an item that could mimic anyone. He used it to create a bride, then died as if trapped in the coffin,” Lu Lu explained, relieved to see them.

Though competitors, they could cooperate until Zaoya was found. Too many deaths proved the dungeon’s danger.

“How are you? Any news of Zaoya?”

Wen Renxi and Han Jiao shook their heads. Lu Lu didn’t press.

They were lucky to be alive; finding Zaoya was unlikely for such inexperienced players.

Qiu Ping, asking if they’d eaten, glanced at them thoughtfully, masking her expression.

Han Jiao, exhausted and wary of revealing the bride replacement theory, took Wen Renxi back to their room.

Wen Renxi’s gaze lingered on the coffin in the courtyard.

The red coffin seemed eerie in the sunlight.

In their room, Han Jiao sighed in relief. “Huang Pingyu and Jiang Ming didn’t return. They’re probably dead. We were lucky to stay together.”

The thought of them disappearing filled her with dread.

“We need to convince Mr. Hu.”

Wen Renxi, sitting on her bed, remained noncommittal.

Convincing Mr. Hu wouldn’t be easy.

Though they suspected the bride could be anyone, Mr. Hu’s approval was essential. Would he accept any random girl?

Wen Renxi never intended to convince Mr. Hu to switch.

She would save Zaoya without sacrificing another girl.

Han Jiao, in their temporary alliance, trusted Wen Renxi more than others.

Recalling the dungeon’s dangers, Han Jiao tallied her items.

The strange feeling returned.

The last time she checked her items, she felt uneasy, but couldn’t pinpoint why. Now, it was back, interrupting her thoughts.

Han Jiao’s face paled, looking at Wen Renxi in horror, cold sweat dripping.

The golden clock was black.

The golden clock, a legendary item, reversed time. It gave the user multiple attempts.

It was Han Jiao’s trump card; only her cousin knew of it.

The clock had nine resets before needing a “recharge.”

But now, the energy indicator was completely black.

She had failed nine times; this was her last chance.

Realizing this, Han Jiao panicked, her heart pounding.

She had never failed so many times.

Though each reset erased her memory, she could tell how many times she had reset by the energy levels. This was different.

It was her first time seeing the clock completely black.