A group of players stared at Gu Jiu, completely bewildered.
What just happened? What was that doll that the giant hand from thin air grabbed? Could it be some kind of substitute doll? For a prop to be capable of drawing the attention of a force beyond the game’s world and to be taken as an offering is indeed impressive.
No wonder she hadn’t shown a hint of worry before; she had a backup plan all along.
Wan Xingzhou gazed at Gu Jiu, practically starry-eyed.
The scene of Gu Jiu narrowly avoiding the grasp of the giant hand was stunning. He eagerly asked, “Miss Gu, what was that thing grabbed by the demon’s hand just now?”
“A curse doll. I bought it after clearing a level in one of the game realms,” Gu Jiu explained, clearly in a good mood. “It can block a player from one instance of curse damage.”
And it wasn’t even that expensive—only 800 points.
For a prop that could trick a “demon,” 800 points was indeed not bad.
Although Gu Jiu thought the multiverse game system often tried to drain players’ points, some of the props were genuinely useful. When she bought the curse doll, it was because she saw it as a rare opportunity, which justified the 800-point purchase.
You see, at the time, she was just a rookie participating in her first game, with very few points.
By the time she entered her second game world, she didn’t even have enough points to buy props.
Not everyone has the boldness to spend points like she does. Many players feel tempted by the props listed in the store after clearing a game, but they’re more afraid of spending their points and then entering the next game world without the points to buy the necessary items.
Just like the substitute card before entering this game world—it wasn’t particularly expensive, yet four players missed out on it and tragically lost their lives during the second day’s filming task.
At first, the players had an epiphany, but something still didn’t sit right.
One person skeptically asked, “Can a single curse doll really replace a player as an offering?”
Once again, the hand that appeared out of nowhere was a force beyond the game world’s bosses—a terrifying presence that couldn’t simply be tricked by a curse doll, right?
However, Ruan Yuan seemed to catch onto something, and in surprise, she asked, “Did you use another item as well?”
Gu Jiu looked at her approvingly and replied, “I used both the curse doll and a substitute card together.”
First, she used the substitute card to escape from the filming task, then she activated the curse doll. Stacking these two items allowed her to fool the arriving “demon” and make her escape smoothly.
The curse doll’s function was to block one instance of curse damage for a player. In the summoning circle just now, Gu Jiu was positioned as an offering, and the special force acting on her was a type of curse power. That’s why the curse doll was able to trick the “demon” into taking it as an offering.
After hearing her explanation, everyone present had a moment of clarity and couldn’t help but feel impressed.
It was the first time they’d encountered such a daring player, and one so inventive as to stack two items.
This kind of stacked usage is typically only employed by high-level players, who aren’t short of props. If Gu Jiu had been a high-level player, they wouldn’t find it surprising, but she was only a C-rank player at the moment. Generally, C-rank players are quite strapped for resources, and few would be willing to stack two items.
Could it be that Gu Jiu had some powerful benefactor in Boundless City, a wealthy backer allowing her to spend so freely?
Several players quietly pondered to themselves, planning to check the “Fame List” in Boundless City to see if “Gu Jiu” appeared there after they successfully cleared this game.
Regardless of the outcome, Gu Jiu’s performance during today’s extremely dangerous task had left a strong impression on everyone. The players felt a surge of confidence in her, finding themselves instinctively drawn to her leadership.
Their attitudes toward her had shifted to one of respect, believing that working with her was indeed a good idea.
Ruan Yuan was both surprised and delighted by this development.
Though they had hinted at wanting to collaborate the previous night, they hadn’t made a final decision, still hesitating and observing. Gu Jiu’s actions today, however, had stunned these cautious players, finally convincing them to agree to a collaboration.
This couldn’t have gone better.
Ruan Yuan thought that she might have managed to persuade them herself, but it would’ve taken more time and effort, with no guarantee that something wouldn’t go wrong in the process. After all, they were in a deadly game world, where each day’s filming task could be fatal; it was far better to cooperate early on.
It was still dark, and no one felt like returning to their rooms to sleep. Instead, they gathered on the sofas in the lobby, discussing the day’s filming task.
All the players took out their task slips and compared them, gaining a clearer sense of the connections between their tasks and the hidden malice embedded within them.
“Are we really going to be split into two opposing teams and forced to fight each other?”
Just dealing with the deadly traps in their tasks was hard enough, but now they also had to worry about attacks from players in different factions—it was exhausting.
In the game world, players were usually prohibited from harming each other. However, if they were placed in opposing factions, that rule would be overridden, leaving them vulnerable to each other.
Ruan Yuan, Lu Haidi, and Wan Xingzhou instinctively looked to Gu Jiu, asking eagerly, “Miss Gu, what’s your take on this?”
The way these three turned to her drew the attention of the other players as well.
While Gu Jiu’s performance had been impressive, it wasn’t quite to the point where they’d readily seek her guidance. Players who had reached the C-rank game level usually had their own ways of clearing tasks and were reluctant to take advice from peers of the same rank—unless the person was a high-ranking player from an advanced game.
Of course, advanced players usually weren’t interested in the low-level props available in C-rank games, rarely coming down to lower-ranked game worlds.
As they considered this, they noticed Wan Xingzhou staring at Gu Jiu with puppy-dog eyes, pleading, “Miss Gu, could you help me figure this out?”
Everyone: “…”
What was this? Why was he asking someone else to decide for him?
Gu Jiu studied Wan Xingzhou for a moment before suddenly asking, “In the real world, are you often unlucky, finding yourself frequently relying on the kindness of strangers?”
Wan Xingzhou’s eyes widened. “Yes, how did you know? Are we from the same world?”
At this, his face lit up with excitement.
Encountering another player from the same world within the game was rare. Players came to the multiverse game from countless different worlds, and with players from so many worlds mixed together, finding someone from your own world in the same game world was a matter of luck.
In contrast to his excitement, Lu Ji looked displeased, his mood turning dark as his jet-black eyes fixed on Wan Xingzhou.
Wan Xingzhou was too busy being excited about meeting someone from the same world to notice this exchange. Ruan Yuan and a few others, however, caught a glimpse of Lu Ji’s expression, shivering slightly. Lu Ji’s gaze was intense and unnervingly fixed, giving her a rather eerie air, while Wan Xingzhou’s obliviousness to it all hinted at his resilient luck in surviving the game world thus far.
Gu Jiu chuckled, “Before entering this game world, I didn’t know you. How could I possibly recognize you?”
With this, she dismissed any notion of them coming from the same real world.
Lu Ji’s mood lifted immediately, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Wan Xingzhou, looking deflated, asked, “Then how did you know…?”
“I could tell by looking at your face,” Gu Jiu replied casually.
The other players glanced at Wan Xingzhou, suddenly understanding what she meant. With a face that naturally evoked sympathy, he had that kind of “pitiful” look that would make most people instinctively want to help. Anyone with a heart would probably feel inclined to lend him a hand upon meeting him.
While Wan Xingzhou was still processing this, he suddenly heard Gu Jiu say, “I’ll go with you to the master’s room to wait for Madam Herlan.”
Wan Xingzhou let out a surprised “Huh?” and, realizing what she meant, looked genuinely shocked.
“You’re coming with me to the master’s room? But won’t that mean…”
The others also stared at Gu Jiu in disbelief. If she joined Wan Xingzhou in the master’s room to wait for Madam Herlan, she’d be marked as a player participating in that filming task, meaning she wouldn’t be able to avoid any potential death traps.
Who in their right mind would knowingly walk into danger?
Gu Jiu smiled, “Didn’t I mention last night that I’d really like to meet Madam Herlan? This is a rare opportunity; of course, I can’t pass it up.”
No one could argue with that.
It was an oddly convincing reason, just like the seemingly petty reasons she had given before. Was there something strange about her thinking?
Ruan Yuan seemed pensive, sensing there was more to Gu Jiu’s intentions, though she couldn’t quite figure it out.
Just then, Gu Jiu added, “And try not to attack each other when the time comes; there’s no point wasting your strength. Better save your energy for the boss battle.”
Everyone: “!!!!!!” Did she really just say that?
Gu Jiu didn’t just say it—she meant it. In the three game worlds she had cleared, the bosses she faced either met their end or were left in ruins. Although the bosses in C-rank worlds were undoubtedly tougher and harder to kill than those in D-rank, there was always a chance. Who knows, maybe she could pull it off.
Lu Haidi’s scalp tingled as he cautiously reminded her, “Miss Gu, once we’re placed in opposing factions, we won’t have the choice not to attack.”
“Exactly,” another player chimed in. “I’ve never encountered a game world that splits players into enemy factions, but I’ve heard from others. Once players are assigned opposing factions, even if they don’t want to attack, they can’t control themselves. Otherwise, it’s…”
Death.
In the face of death, even kin could be forced to attack, with the instinct to preserve their own chance of survival overwhelming all else.
Gu Jiu’s gaze remained calm as she looked at them. “If you still have substitute cards, you can use those to escape. If not, use whatever other items you have. And if you don’t have any items at all… then figure it out yourselves.”
Looking into her beautiful eyes, tinged with a faint gray haze, the others found themselves slowly convinced by her words.
Perhaps… they could give it a try. If they couldn’t control themselves, then at least they wouldn’t harm each other too severely…
After dawn broke, the players left the lobby.
Gu Jiu didn’t bother with where they went. She remained curled up on the sofa in the lobby, her expression somewhat drowsy.
Lu Ji took a blanket from his personal bag and draped it over Gu Jiu. He then turned and frowned slightly at Wan Xingzhou, who sat awkwardly nearby. “Why are you still here?”
Wan Xingzhou looked slightly dazed as he replied, “I’m waiting for Miss Gu.”
Lu Ji stared at him intently, and this time Wan Xingzhou finally noticed her gaze. Somewhat startled, he shuffled slightly away, lowering his head to avoid her eyes, but he didn’t leave.
Lu Ji suddenly felt a strong urge to summon a paper frog and have it swallow him whole.
Fortunately, Gu Jiu’s voice cut through his dark thoughts just in time. “Wan Xingzhou, go to the kitchen and check if there’s anything flammable or explosive. Gather as much as you can.”
Wan Xingzhou silently got up and headed toward the castle kitchen.
With no one else around, Lu Ji felt his spirits lift.
He gazed at the sleeping figure on the sofa, his eyes unblinking, unwilling to look away for even a moment.
When Wan Xingzhou returned from the kitchen, he caught sight of this scene and froze slightly, his expression becoming subtly intrigued.
Though he’d always been an unlucky guy, he possessed a certain natural intuition when it came to emotions among sentient beings, a skill he had awakened as part of a unique talent.
Now, he could clearly sense that Lu Ji harbored a forbidden, intensely fierce—perhaps even dark—emotion for Gu Jiu.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something crucial.