Chapter 260: [Rotten Bones and Resurrected Flesh] The Pink Umbrella
Wen Zhao sensed a wave of absolute despair in the air.
Taking in that terrifying, suffocating pressure, Wen Zhao turned his eyes onto Bai Cha instantly.
“Hurry up! Something’s wrong outside.”
Bai Cha had already spotted his heart.
Yet in reality, that dagger had already pierced straight into the heart.
She cast a glance at Wen Zhao.
“I feel like you’ve been tricked.”
“What?”
Bai Cha exerted a sudden surge of force, plunging the dagger even deeper into the heart.
Wen Zhao shuddered violently, collapsing onto the floor in agony.
He neither died nor did he swap into a new body.
That heart was merely his vital weakness all along.
When Bai Cha yanked the dagger back out, Wen Zhao trembled once more, the excruciating pain in his heart rendering him incapable of even uttering a word.
Ever since turning into a puppet, he had never experienced such visceral, physical pain again.
With the heart extracted, Bai Cha looked at him, stepped over to stand before him, and ripped open his clothing.
A flicker of anger surfaced in the depths of Wen Zhao’s eyes.
“You…”
Using that dagger, Bai Cha had sliced open the scar over his heart once more, roughly shoving the heart straight inside.
In truth, this heart was no longer identical to a normal human heart—it was a heart crafted of stark white bone.
It felt icy cold to the touch.
Yet it could indeed beat.
The moment the heart entered his body, Wen Zhao went rigid.
The surrounding scene collapsed at lightning speed.
Bai Cha returned to the instance.
The moment she opened her eyes, she sensed that something was amiss.
In truth, her refraining from wasting breath on Wen Zhao moments ago was precisely because she knew someone outside had inevitably pulled a trick behind her back.
Sure enough, among the players who entered the game this time, someone was targeting her specifically.
As for whether the other party was certain of her true identity, that was unlikely to be the case.
Regardless, this was a competition mode—eliminating one meant one less competitor. Operating under such a mindset, making a move was hardly surprising.
She was currently inside a room hung with numerous umbrellas.
The room held a heavy concentration of moisture, with water lingering atop virtually every single umbrella.
These umbrellas were clustered together across a single wall, bearing varying colors—some pale pink, some deep pink, some red, alongside black and blue ones. Black and blue ones were exceedingly rare, numbering fewer than five.
The remaining thirty or forty umbrellas were all entirely in shades of red and pink.
This ought to be that locked room.
These umbrellas were all thoroughly dilapidated.
Their degree of damage varied from one to another.
Bai Cha swept these surroundings into her vision almost instantaneously, then lowered her head to look down: the puppet was still inside the box.
How Wen Zhao was faring now remained unknown, but beside the box rested another umbrella.
It was a pale pink umbrella. For reasons unknown, its structure was turned inside out: the canopy faced inward while the umbrella ribs flared outward. Normally speaking, the tip ought to be at the top, and when closed, the ribs folded inward with the canopy closing downward.
Yet this umbrella had been forcefully retracted inward, its tip shifted straight down to the mechanism, closing tightly together—unwrapped by any cord, yet appearing as though bound shut with tape.
Without making a sound, Bai Cha picked up the box containing the puppet with gentle care, standing up.
With this single movement, the entire air rapidly turned frigidly cold.
Dense waves of resentment and despair permeated the space, capable of infecting anyone with excruciating agony almost instantaneously.
Her face deathly pale, Bai Cha felt a suffocating tightness in her chest, as if her heart were being squeezed into a knot.
Reacting in a single instant, she crouched down and grabbed the umbrella from the floor.
Those complex, interwoven auras dissolved in an instant, leaving behind merely a single, far more intense thread of resentment coiling around her.
It was the umbrella in her hand.
Just as she had surmised, retrieving an item inside this repair shop meant one had to restore it, or else suffer the consequences of failing to repair it.
She didn’t know who had taken this umbrella down and set it beside her, or rather, it was now equivalent to her having taken the umbrella herself.
If she attempted to abandon it, every single umbrella inside this room would refuse to let her go.
Bringing this umbrella out meant she needed to deal with only this single one.
Almost the very instant she grabbed the umbrella, Bai Cha initiated parasitation.
[System Notice: Successfully parasitized host: Liu Ruyi.]
As for the remaining umbrellas…
Bai Cha backed up slowly toward the doorway, giving the door a light tug.
The door appeared locked from the outside.
Meanwhile, her eyes swept across the umbrellas hanging on that wall.
Truth be told, after she selected the umbrella in her hand, the remaining umbrellas fixated their stares onto her as well.
She harbored an illusion that no matter where she fled, she would be tracked down.
Of course, perhaps it wasn’t an illusion at all—she might simply have been marked.
Meanwhile, the umbrella in her hand felt increasingly icy to the touch.
In the faint air, frigid strands of hair seemed to coil around her hand.
Bai Cha cast a glance downward.
The Tai Sui was stirring restlessly as well.
It possessed immense interest toward these umbrellas.
Pondering for merely a brief moment, before everything escalated into severity, Bai Cha switched hands to hold the umbrella, tearing off a tiny piece of the Tai Sui.
It felt somewhat akin to peeling a patch of skin off her hand.
She tossed the piece of Tai Sui onto the floor.
Next, drawing out a dagger redeemed from the mall prior to entering, she smashed it against the lock outside through the crack in the door.
From the instant she attempted to depart, the aura emanating from those umbrellas inside the room indeed turned all the more frigid.
Including the umbrella in her hand.
Her movements created considerable noise; after all, the door lock was being struck continuously, nearing the point of breaking open.
And right at this moment, someone outside sliced off the lock with a single blow, pulling the door open.
It was Chen Mi.
“Why are you inside there?” He looked at her with a touch of surprise, yet the blade held in his hand blocked her path.
Bai Cha fixated a vigilant stare onto him, her face ghastly pale, her eyes radiating panic.
“I don’t know—let me out quickly!”
Holding the umbrella before her chest, she slammed forward toward Chen Mi.
A glint flashed through Chen Mi’s eyes, yet he chose to dodge out of the way regardless.
Bai Cha stumbled straight past, barely regaining her balance before breaking into a fit of coughing.
Coughing continuously, she couldn’t resist doubling over, exposing her entire back to Chen Mi.
“Are you alright? How did you end up coming out from that room?” Shen Xiao-luo walked over with a trace of surprise.
Chen Mi stowed his blade away slowly, casting a glance at that room before casually shutting the door.
As that room plunged back into darkness, that patch of dead-skin-like Tai Sui resting on the floor moved at long last.
It steadily restored its lustrous, jelly-like texture, sprouting fine, black threads of silk.
Yet upon closer inspection, it wasn’t hard to discern faint traces of pale yellow interwoven within.
Outdoors, Bai Cha dodged the hand Shen Xiao-luo extended toward her with a face full of vigilance, her entire form tense as she shrank into a corner.
“One of you put me into that room.”
Her voice trembled, her entire presence appearing as though her sensitive spot had been prodded, her eyes rimmed red.
Appearing somewhat aggressive in this state, she carried a frail, hollow facade nonetheless.
At this moment, Song Shi-fan and Wang Yuan had yet to awaken, while Zheng Zelin looked injured, his spirits low.
Shen Xiao-luo and Chen Mi appeared entirely fine.
“Well, I wouldn’t know. After I stepped inside to swap an item, you were gone.”
Shen Xiao-luo shrugged her shoulders.
“Besides, I wasn’t the first one to wake up either.”
Bai Cha turned her gaze onto Chen Mi instantly.
Chen Mi offered a faint smile, saying, “Zheng Zelin woke up first. He appeared to have sustained injuries, but when I woke up, I indeed saw him sitting over there already.”
Hearing this, Zheng Zelin looked over, his brows knitted tight. Due to his injuries, he was feeling quite miserable right now.
Consequently, his tone carried a sharp edge.
“Ghosts only know how you got inside—don’t look at me!”
