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Bonus chapter! Thank you to JustSomeOne for the donation! ^^
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They must still be in the room.
Once Lin Zhiyan realized this, he turned his gaze toward the interior of the room, his sharp eyes scanning every possible hiding spot.
The rooms on the sixth floor and above of the cruise ship were exceptionally large—at least three times bigger than guest cabins—meaning there were far more places to hide.
Lin Zhiyan slowly walked toward the most likely hiding spot: the wardrobe.
The room was deathly silent, save for the sound of his footsteps, making everyone hold their breath in fear.
Even the live-stream audience was no exception, their hands and feet fidgeting nervously.
Because the direction Lin Zhiyan was heading in was exactly where Ruan Qing and Qi Lintian were hiding.
While there were many hiding spots in the room, only the wardrobe was big enough to conceal two people.
As Lin Zhiyan’s footsteps drew closer, Ruan Qing’s heart sank to the depths of despair.
It’s over.
He didn’t regret faking his death to escape Lin Zhiyan, nor did he think he’d done anything wrong—but it was undoubtedly a direct provocation, a slap to the face of a madman.
What a psychopath could least tolerate was someone trying to flee from their grasp. Even the mere thought of escape was an unforgivable sin.
And now, here he was, covered in unmistakable marks left by another man—with Qi Lintian still right beside him.
But there was nothing he could do. Discovery was inevitable.
Inside the wardrobe, it was pitch black, save for a sliver of light seeping through the cracks—too faint to illuminate much.
Just as Ruan Qing lowered his gaze, resigned to his fate, the access card in his hand was abruptly snatched away. Then, with a gentle push from Qi Lintian, he was shoved into the corner of the wardrobe, buried beneath hanging clothes.
Meanwhile, Qi Lintian—with an audacious smirk—kicked the wardrobe door open and stepped out.
Ruan Qing stared at him in stunned silence. His hand instinctively reached out, as if to grab hold of him.
But he quickly regained his composure, retracting his hand the moment it brushed against Qi Lintian’s sleeve and hiding it beneath the clothes.
Being discovered alone was far better than both of them being caught.
At least this way, Qi Lintian wouldn’t be facing certain death.
Since Qi Lintian’s body completely blocked Ruan Qing from view, no one else witnessed this moment—except the live-stream audience.
[Ex-Hubby, I’m actually crying… Fine, I’ll forgive you just this once for what happened earlier. But if you dare touch my wife again, I won’t let it slide!]
[Gotta admit, Ex-Hubby was kinda cool just now. But my wife doesn’t belong to him! Just because something happened between them doesn’t mean he can get cocky!]
[What could have happened? Impossible! There wasn't enough time for anything to happen, and with those monsters around, nothing could have happened anyway!]
[What's wrong with this damn livestream? Why does it keep cutting to black? Every time things get exciting, the screen goes dark. This is so frustrating!]
Lin Zhiyan stopped in his tracks as he saw Qi Lintian kick open the door and emerge. A shadow of displeasure flickered through his eyes—clearly, he hadn't expected that the so-called "big shot" the player mentioned would be Qi Lintian.
His gaze fell on the access card in Qi Lintian's hand.
Given Qi Lintian's status, it was entirely possible for him to possess multiple access cards—or even to have secretly copied Lin Zhiyan's own card without his notice.
The player who had cracked under pressure and revealed everything stared dumbfounded at Qi Lintian, his lips parting slightly before closing again without a word.
Lin Zhiyan didn’t notice this. He turned away coldly and ordered, "Tie him up."
The staff immediately moved to obey, their previous deference toward Qi Lintian gone—though they didn’t treat him with the same contempt they showed the players.
It was almost as if… they were wary of something.
Naturally, Qi Lintian didn’t go down without a fight. He clashed with the staff, but even with his exceptional combat skills, he was no match for these monstrous attendants. In the end, he suffered the same fate as the players—bound hand and foot and thrown to the ground.
Lin Zhiyan didn’t spare him another glance. Instead, he tilted his chin toward the lead staff member and commanded, "Make the preparations."
Though he didn’t specify what, every staff member understood.
They were to summon the evil god.
This was the true purpose of their seven-day cruise—the moment they had been waiting for all this time.
Excitement and fanaticism burned in the staff’s eyes.
Yet the lead staff member didn’t immediately comply. He frowned. "It’s too early to summon it now."
In truth, he didn’t care about the timing. Summoning the evil god was perilous—there was a high chance everyone on the ship would end up as sacrifices.
But more importantly… he still hadn’t found that person.
They absolutely could not proceed with the summoning now.
"Early?" Lin Zhiyan glanced coldly at the other staff members. "What do you think?"
"Not early at all!" The staff member who met his gaze immediately shook his head, eyes burning with fervor. "We’re already in the eye of the storm, and the sacrifices are prepared—now is the perfect time to summon the Evil God!"
The staff’s excitement made him forget even his usual deference toward Lin Zhiyan, his entire being consumed by fanatical devotion.
This made it clear: their reverence had never been for Lin Zhiyan himself, but only for the Evil God.
Their obedience to Lin Zhiyan’s orders stemmed solely from his position as the cult’s leader.
They existed for one purpose—to summon their deity.
The lead staff member pressed his lips together. A single glance at the others told him there was no room for dissent now.
Unless… he told Lin Zhiyan that Xia Qing was still alive.
He hesitated. But as he wavered, Lin Zhiyan turned away indifferently and left the room.
The lead staff member paused, then followed—though whether to catch up with Lin Zhiyan or attend to other matters was unclear.
The rest of the staff dispersed eagerly to make final preparations.
Soon, only the bound players and Qi Lintian remained in the room.
Well, not just them.
There was also the monster—a grotesque, many-eyed horror.
With the staff gone, the creature no longer held back. It lunged at the players with ravenous hunger.
Terrified, the players strained against their ropes, desperate to retreat. But bound hand and foot, they had nowhere to go.
As the monster loomed over them, their sweat-drenched bodies stiffened with dread. They squeezed their eyes shut, awaiting the end—
BANG!
The sound ripped through the room.
The players’ eyes flew open.
The monster stood frozen, every one of its eyes locked rigidly behind it—even those on its front side swiveled grotesquely to the edges of their sockets, straining to see what stood there.
The players’ gazes snapped to the figure behind the creature.
A young man stood there, gripping an iron rod.
The "bang" had been the sound of that rod smashing into the monster’s skull.
However, the monster’s hide was incredibly thick—ordinary attacks couldn’t even scratch it. The boy’s strike had only knocked loose some of the eyes covering its body, with no other effect.
What was even more terrifying was that the dislodged eyes didn’t return to the monster’s body, nor did they attempt to parasitize the nearest players. Instead, they wriggled furiously toward the boy.
…It was as if the eyes had been enraged by his actions.
Even tied up by the staff, Qi Lintian didn’t appear the least bit disheveled or afraid—he still carried himself with an air of arrogance. But now, his eyes widened in shock, his earlier composure completely gone. He shouted at Ruan Qing, who was still gripping the metal rod:
“Run!”
Ruan Qing stared at the eyes squirming toward him, his hair standing on end, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He instinctively took a few steps back.
But those backward steps seemed to startle the monster awake. It lunged at Ruan Qing—far more eagerly than it had at the other players, as if his defiance had thoroughly provoked it.
Ruan Qing dodged swiftly, but instead of fleeing the room, he weaved between the furniture, buying time.
He was trying to find a chance to save Qi Lintian and the other players—and maybe even discover the monster’s weakness.
But Ruan Qing’s stamina was limited. After just seven or eight minutes of running, his speed began to falter. The monster, however, showed no signs of fatigue—if anything, it was moving even faster than before.
The players watched the chase with bated breath, terrified that Ruan Qing would be caught.
Not all of them were focused on the pursuit, though. Some couldn’t tear their gaze away from the eyes still clinging to the monster’s body. Something felt… off.
This didn’t seem like anger. It was more like… an indescribable excitement, a fervor—similar to the way the staff had spoken of the evil god earlier.
…Probably just their imagination.
Ran Jia had also been following the chase closely. She wasn’t a strong fighter—her survival in so many dungeons had always relied on Qi Yi. All she had to do was stay behind him.
Whenever they were separated, her only option was to hide and wait for his return.
This time, she should have done the same. Others’ lives had never been her concern.
But as she watched Ruan Qing nearing his limit, hesitation flickered in her eyes. Finally, she burst out from her hiding spot.
As she ran, she tried to convince herself: Qi Yi took a liking to this guy. If something happens to him, Qi Yi will tear this whole ship apart.
She was doing this for herself—purely for herself.
When Ran Jia rushed out, she grabbed nearby objects and hurled them at the monster while shouting provocatively, "Hey, ugly! Over here! Come get me!"
Yet the monster didn’t even turn its head—only the eyes on its back blinked once—before lunging at Ruan Qing again.
Overexertion left Ruan Qing breathless. Glancing at Ran Jia, who was still trying to divert the monster’s attention, he gasped out with difficulty, "Help... the others."
Ran Jia hesitated for a split second before darting toward the bound players and swiftly untying their ropes.
By now, Ruan Qing had almost no strength left. As the monster closed in relentlessly, unease and hesitation flickered in his eyes.
He’d noticed something earlier—the monster seemed wary of his divine power. Every time he channeled energy to steady himself, the creature would pause inexplicably.
But his power was pitifully weak.
Even drawing a simple hypnotic pattern drained him completely. To kill the monster would undoubtedly leave him incapacitated.
Yet he had no choice now. The monster was upon him—there was no dodging.
Gathering every shred of divine energy he’d recovered, Ruan Qing infused the iron rod in his hand with power. A pale glow erupted from it as he mustered his last ounce of strength and swung at the monster’s head.
This time, the monster wasn’t unscathed. The moment the glowing rod struck, its body dissolved into a puddle of murky liquid.
Ruan Qing’s face was ashen. Gasping in relief at the monster’s remains, he collapsed weakly to the floor.
But there was no time to rest. Using the rod as a crutch, he staggered to Qi Lintian’s side and knelt, his trembling hands fumbling with the ropes.
His fingers were too feeble—after several attempts, the knots remained intact.
Then, footsteps echoed from outside. Someone was returning.
Ran Jia had only freed three or four players. This time, none dared to flee. Panicked, they looked to Ruan Qing, while Ran Jia hastily hid again.
Ruan Qing wanted to hide too, but he couldn’t even stand. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed spare ropes and loosely bound his ankles, then wrapped a few coils around his wrists—posing as another captive.
The freed players followed suit, hastily retying themselves to blend in.
