Zhao Xishi's grievance differed from Li Jingming's.
Dragon King had been deliberately sabotaged by Zhen Yi and denied entry to the History School. Zhao Xishi, on the other hand, had joined the History School only to be vetoed by Zhen Yi when competing for vice president—after which she angrily quit the organization, becoming Zhen Yi's sworn enemy.
Nobody knew why Zhen Yi had shot down the most hardworking mber of the school at the ti. All anyone knew was that from then on, whenever a History School mber crossed paths with Zhao Xishi, nothing good ca of it.
Cheng Shi knew nothing of the specifics. All he wanted to know was what relationship this Historian had with Mo Shu, and how the two had ended up working together.
He'd hoped The Prisoner might know sothing, but this Chosen One of Silence—first-rate at running his mouth—had a pitifully thin intelligence file.
After getting nothing three tis in a row, The Prisoner consoled him:
"Don't panic, brother-in-law. If you want the inside scoop, just beat her into submission. She'll talk."
"..."
'Like I need you to tell
that?'
'The problem is: where is she hiding?'
Cheng Shi held a smoke bomb at the ready, eyes scanning every direction, ears alert to the slightest sound—guarded to the extre.
A lone Singer might not pose much threat, but paired with a Chosen-level Warrior, Cheng Shi had to take this seriously.
They'd clearly walked into a trap. Everything around them was likely a mory illusion. Without knowing where the enemy was, holding position was the safest approach.
Then again, with The Prisoner here, maybe going on the offensive wasn't a bad idea.
Silence's power could break through all techniques. Why not just shatter the mory illusion directly?
With that thought, Cheng Shi frowned and glanced at The Prisoner beside him—only to find The Prisoner's expression deadly serious, his stance combat-ready, a thread of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.
'!!??'
"You're injured?"
Cheng Shi's pupils contracted. His sharp gaze swept the surroundings as he casually flung a healing spell his way.
The Prisoner opened his mouth to respond, but instead—"BLEURGH!"—he sprayed out a torrent of blood.
"Cough cough... minor issue. Just ingested a bit of Oblivion power. Only now finding out those cakes were a trap."
"How devious!"
"Minor" it might be, but the problem on The Prisoner's body looked anything but minor.
A massive surge of Oblivion power erupted from within him. Veins bulged across his body as he fought with everything he had to prevent the Oblivion force from annihilating his organs.
Seeing this, Cheng Shi's gaze hardened. He drew the Thorn Weeping Rite, sending an endless stream of healing spells raining down on The Prisoner's head while tossing him a bottle of Prosperity of Yesteryear. His voice was grave: "Don't die."
He knew that even if The Prisoner lost his combat ability, as long as he stayed alive, he'd draw so of the enemy's attention. But the mont The Prisoner died, all the pressure would fall squarely on Cheng Shi.
The Prisoner was a battlefield veteran and understood this perfectly. He took the potion, nodded, and declared with iron resolve: "Don't worry—I haven't attended your wedding with my sist— hey, hey, hey! What was given was given! Why are you snatching it back?!"
Cheng Shi had changed his mind.
He grabbed the Prosperity of Yesteryear back, thinking: 'If it's The Prisoner who dies, maybe that's not so bad.'
But just as the two finished their dazzling exchange, the enemy hiding in the shadows finally responded.
The ground beneath the mory illusion suddenly split open. A fist the size of a basin ca hurtling through, wind screaming, aid straight at The Prisoner's face!
The Scavenger had made his move. His first target was still The Prisoner—the one who still had fight left in him.
But even in such a weakened state, The Prisoner didn't bat an eye. He even had the leisure to talk while blocking the blow:
"Comrade Scavenger, your cakes have a safety issue. They're not sanitary—I got a stomachache."
"I'm going to report you to the market regulatory bureau. They'll shut down your shop, fine you to oblivion, and award
emotional distress damages!"
Mo Shu's eye twitched violently. He sneered:
"This is your emotional comfort. Catch!"
BOOM—
A trendous crash rang out. Two titanic forces collided, the shockwave rippling outward and kicking up endless clouds of dust. The two combatants held their ground, but the blast sent Cheng Shi—a re Priest—flying.
Mid-flight, Cheng Shi twisted to look back. Through the dust, he saw The Prisoner drop his weakened facade entirely, lick the blood from his lips, and throw himself at the Scavenger with manic fervor.
Mo Shu was equally stunned. He gnashed his teeth:
"You weren't hit at all?!"
The Prisoner punched away while looking embarrassed:
"Sorry—digestive system's too good. Already passed it all. The only trace left in my stomach was the tiny bit I spent serious effort keeping in."
"You people have no idea how miserable it is when you can't finish your business!"
"What you owe
isn't food safety compensation—it's my intestinal regularity! Take this!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
At that mont, Cheng Shi swore he ca dangerously close to switching sides and joining Mo Shu in beating The Prisoner.
But an instant later, he couldn't help laughing.
This was the second unluckiest man alive for a reason. If The Prisoner could be made to concede defeat, he wouldn't be this famous.
The warrior-on-warrior brawl raged on. Cheng Shi, having landed, stayed fully alert. He knew Mo Shu's real target was never The Prisoner. Mo Shu had probably identified the relationship between the two and prioritized eliminating Cheng Shi's support first.
But Mo Shu had his own backup. Where was the Historian?
Though she was a support-class Singer, at this tier, there was no such thing as a purely support class. Between their items and hidden potential, support players could always deliver a fatal blow when the target least expected it.
Like... right now!
Just as Cheng Shi was cautiously scanning his surroundings, a passerby who'd been scrambling away from the sudden fight went ice-cold in the face, produced a dagger, and charged straight at him.
Given that a few steps' distance was nothing to a peak player, before Cheng Shi could even turn around, the dagger plunged into—
'?'
A cloud of smoke!
'Where did he go?'
The assailant's pupils contracted. She spun to retreat, but a scalpel materialized directly in her path. It swept upward in an arc, and she held her breath, instinctively dodging, only to feel the blade graze her shoulder and slice through her hood—revealing a face of utter frigidity.
Historian Zhao Xishi!
'This Singer had the audacity to ambush
in the flesh?'
'Hadn't she heard about
going toe-to-toe with Zangier at the 0221 Experint Site?!'
Cheng Shi's first strike missed. His eyes narrowed, and he flash-stepped backward. He didn't believe for a second that a peak player would use such a crude thod of attack. Sure enough, the instant he pulled away, the mory illusion at his previous position completely collapsed—the entire scene crumpled inward, the compressed mory power detonating with devastating force, blasting everyone in the vicinity away.
Thankfully, Cheng Shi had retreated in ti. He tumbled and rolled, pulling back all the way to The Prisoner's side.
The Prisoner was also battered head to toe, not a patch of intact skin remaining.
The two instinctively went back-to-back—and spat out the exact sa words in unison:
"How are you this bad?"
"..."
"..."
One second of silence. The next, The Prisoner bead: "I knew it—brother-in-law, you get
best!"
Cheng Shi's forehead was pulsing. He shot a glare at Mo Shu, who stood so distance away with a dark, uncertain expression, and yelled:
"How are you this bad?! You couldn't even kill him?!"
"I—"
Mo Shu ground his teeth, ready to charge again, when a voice from behind hissed: "No chance now. We're leaving." His brow sank as he glanced forward one last ti, then obliterated his own silhouette with a wave of his hand.
Seeing the attackers withdraw, Cheng Shi sneered.
But The Prisoner beside him said: "You're the one who got beat up—what are you smiling about? Brother-in-law, don't tell
they knocked you stupid."
"..." Cheng Shi's smirk died on the spot. "You're the stupid one, you—"
Before he could finish, a thud ca from behind. The figure at his back crumpled to the ground.
The Prisoner's mouth was full of blood, his gaze unfocused. He clutched Cheng Shi's leg and nodded weakly:
"I... really did... get knocked stupid..."
"Cakes... not tasty..."
"Brother-in-law... save ..."
With that, he collapsed face-first with a splat.
'!!??'
Cheng Shi was dumbfounded. He couldn't tell whether The Prisoner was ssing with him or genuinely done for.
But he didn't rush to treat him. Instead, he grabbed The Prisoner and bolted for a dark alley, asking as he ran:
"You said you passed it all—how did you still get hit?"
Blood flowed ceaselessly from The Prisoner's mouth, his words delirious:
"I lied to him... I've been constipated lately..."
"This is bad... I think I really did get knocked stupid..."
"Brother-in-law... how co I can't see your shadow anymore..."
"..."
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