A Midnight Gamble on the Rooftop

The night had deepened, and the day’s events had left everyone profoundly weary.

The initial bewilderment and thrill of being thrust into a supernatural incident, quickly followed by the unsettling revelation of the system’s brutal rules, had drained them completely.

Without food, water, or electricity, the night promised to be exceptionally difficult. Yet, exhaustion eventually claimed them all, and everyone settled down to sleep in the main hall.

At this very moment, one person’s eyes flickered open. Cautiously, she shifted a heavy leg draped over her, taking great care not to awaken the sleeper.

Creeping stealthily up the stairs, she knew this spot was a blind corner for patrols. Under the deliberate cover of the watchman, there was no chance of encountering any sudden situations.

Reaching the rooftop, someone had already been waiting there for a long time. Their signature blue hair was impossible to ignore.

“Oh, our Brother Liu isn’t sleeping in the middle of the night, admiring the scenery instead?”

Her heart eased, even finding the presence of mind to crack a joke.

She had hesitated initially, debating whether to come. As a team leader, she shouldn’t take such risks; a steady, cautious approach was always in their best interest. If this were a trap deliberately set by the other party, foolishly agreeing would be akin to plunging herself into an abyss.

One wrong step could lead to eternal damnation.

But Xiang Ke had no choice. Both of them had realized the biggest problem with this game. Without a thorough exchange of information, it could very well lead to the complete annihilation of the entire group.

She didn’t care about the lives of others; players at this level rarely did. However, she couldn’t disregard her own life and had to take a gamble.

Fortunately, her gamble paid off.

“To be honest, I had questions when I first saw these new players,” the blue-haired individual began, not taking the bait. “I didn’t think much of it then, only assuming the brutal outcome of the previous round had lowered the system’s evaluation of me.”

A balanced game, a compensatory mechanism from the system.

Xiang Ke remained silent. She had thought the same thing. Given her rank, she shouldn’t have been in contact with new players.

“So, I conducted a small test. As expected, there truly is another troublesome individual here.”

“Should I feel honored?”

Xiang Ke walked to the edge of the rooftop, leaning against the railing to gaze at the distant night sky.

“No need for that,” the blue-haired person raised an eyebrow. “Let’s reintroduce ourselves. Liu Zhengxuan, from the Heavy Industry Team. Rank 28,000, Purple Card.”

Xiang Ke wasn’t surprised; her own standing was similar. She merely mused about the randomness of the rules this time.

“Xiang Ke, from the Dawn Watch Team. Rank 24,000, Purple Card.”

Under normal circumstances, a game with two high-ranking ‘salted fish’ players would place them in opposing factions, inevitably leading to a fight to the death.

Both were keenly aware of this, which explained their initial animosity.

This was the system’s way of eliminating failures, forcing them to re-prove their worth to return to normal game modes.

Only one could emerge victorious from this brutal trial; the loser would be stopped dead in their tracks.

Before the rules were even revealed, Xiang Ke had guessed this round wouldn’t be a hunt mode. The two most likely candidates to be designated hunters appearing in the same place could only mean the new players here had already experienced their first game.

Only a newcomer’s first game would invariably be a hunt mode, and new players needed to complete three games to escape the initial state of slumber until the rules were revealed.

While the probability of everyone being in their first game was low, it was still far greater than two failed players appearing in the same faction.

This was why she had initially sought to ally with Xiang Qi. Being able to largely predict the game mode made accumulating leverage a very sensible choice.

However, when the rules were announced, reality slapped them in the face.

Hunt mode. This indicated that many of those present were genuine newcomers, and at least one player hadn’t even experienced a single game yet.

Not only had she never encountered such a situation herself, but even high-ranking players in her team rarely mentioned it.

This left only one possible explanation: it was a composite game. The objective was simple: to ensure someone’s death.

At that moment, Xiang Ke felt a surge of despair. As a failed player encountering such a situation, how could she not think of herself?

She hadn’t even seen the other dangers, yet one aspect alone already made her feel overwhelmed.

A tenfold increase in all attributes was no small matter.

Everyone else present focused their attention on the extra talents, but Xiang Ke alone noticed the tenfold increase in all attributes.

She knew that no matter how strong a talent was, it had limitations. Being usable only once every four hours meant it wouldn’t have a significant impact. Conversely, the accompanying tenfold attribute boost could often push survivors to their limits.

This wasn’t a simple one-plus-one scenario; it was an all-encompassing, flawless enhancement, reaching a near-inhuman level.

In the many games Xiang Ke had experienced, an enemy with an eightfold attribute boost once appeared, and they were already so strong as to be nearly despair-inducing. The sight of someone being punched clean through the chest, and blades leaving only a bloodstain on their body, was enough to make their opponents tremble inwardly.

Normal games typically featured three-to-five-fold enhancements, but this time, the number was a staggering ten times.

‘Sigh, just wait for death.’

‘It seems this lousy game isn’t even bothering with balance anymore,’ Xiang Ke thought, then noticed the time hint that followed.

Hope for survival rekindled within her.

Seven days—an interesting duration. Hunt mode time limits usually concluded within a single day; six or seven hours was already considered quite long.

After all, escaping terrifying opponents was no easy feat. While hunters were granted immense power, they were also subjected to significant restrictions.

Time was the most crucial of these.

And now, seven days…

Only one possibility remained.

No matter how much the system targeted an individual, it would perfectly adhere to balance rules. Even with new players present, it would never create an absolutely certain death scenario; there would always be a sliver of hope.

If one failed to seize the opportunity, misled into missing their chance, they would then face an inescapable death.

She decided to take a gamble, subtly and intentionally showing favor to the blue-haired youth, testing his reaction.

In such a situation, if they continued to scheme and guard against each other, there truly would be no outcome other than death.

Fortunately, Liu Zhengxuan had also identified this problem, and his foresight ran even deeper.