Blood Moon Rules: God’s Third Hand

Zhou Su very quickly realized this wasn’t just his problem—because the internet had already exploded. Information about the Blood Moon was rocketing to the top of every major site’s headlines.
“Blood Moon: The biggest black swan event in human history!”
“What is a Trial Field? Do higher-dimensional civilizations actually exist?”
Zhou Su felt things were going very, very wrong.
The Blood Moon in the sky wasn’t just visible in Guangdong Province—the Great Xia Federation, the Sakura Nation, the United American Commonwealth… they could all see it.
People all around the world were seeing the Blood Moon at the same time.
Physically, that made no sense.
And at that moment, the cold mechanical voice appeared again in the minds of all people.
【Blood Moon Rules Issued: Bonfire in the Dark】
【Rule Content: In three minutes, darkness will blanket the world. Your task is to survive for eight hours in the dark.】
【Item Aid: Lychee-Wood Torch ×3.】
【Rule Restriction: Electronic communication devices are unusable.】
【Narration: In the dark, savor solitude. Firelight and courage will bring you dawn.】
【Survival Reward: 100 points. System Mall will unlock.】
A burning sensation flared on the back of his right hand.
Zhou Su lowered his head—
A blood-red mark had appeared there: three interwoven crescents forming a circle.
He could clearly sense that a space existed inside the mark.
With just a thought, a torch appeared in his hand.
As his gaze locked onto it, a translucent information panel surfaced.
【Lychee-Wood Torch (White-Rarity)】
Description: The flame of this torch can dispel malevolent spirits. Each unit burns for 2 hours.
Malevolent spirits?
Zhou Su’s heart jolted hard.
From a game-design perspective—
If the system issued an item, there had to be a situation where it must be used.
Which meant—
Once the darkness fell, they would encounter attacks from malevolent spirits.
“The timing doesn’t line up.”
Zhou Su immediately caught the critical point.
One torch burned 2 hours.
Three torches totaled 6 hours.
But survival required 8 hours.
There were 2 hours unaccounted for.
How were those two hours supposed to be survived?
Zhou Su understood perfectly well:
Those two hours were the key to living.
He opened the internet to search for information—
and the next second, the network cut out.
Instinctively, he dialed emergency services.
But: no signal.
He tried several numbers—
all the same.
“…Just as expected.”
He put his phone away.
The Rule had explicitly said communications were disabled—
but with his personality, he had needed to confirm it for himself.

His attention was suddenly drawn to a figure outside—
Amid the frantic chaos everywhere, that person stood out.
No running.
No frantic phone-pressing.
Just standing quietly beneath a streetlamp.
The distance made details unclear.
Zhou Su raised his phone and zoomed in.
Thanks to the excellent camera, he finally saw clearly—
and sucked in a sharp breath.
It was an elderly man, wearing a dark-blue burial shroud.
His face was deathly pale, as if smeared in thick makeup.
Most disturbing were the eyes.
A pair of ink-black pupils—
no human expression in them at all.
A well-dressed office worker walked past, head bowed, endlessly tapping at his phone, not noticing the figure beneath the streetlamp.
At the moment their bodies passed each other—
the shrouded corpse-old man moved.
He lifted a withered arm—
and black fingernails extended rapidly, impossibly long.
The sharp nails pierced into the man’s back and straight into his heart—
like a hot knife sliding into butter, without resistance.
No blood sprayed.
But the man staggered forward and collapsed, stiff and unmoving.
Zhou Su’s expression changed instantly.
The man did not get up again.
He was dead—
his complexion iron-blue and twisted, pain frozen into his final expression.
Malevolent spirit.
Now there was no doubt.
It was real.
After the kill, the shrouded corpse-old man vanished—
but more warped silhouettes appeared beneath other streetlights.
Their faces differed,
but all had pitch-black pupils and cold, empty eyes.
Originally, Zhou Su had wanted to turn on a light.
Now he gave up on that idea completely.
Because—these malevolent spirits were attracted to artificial light.
Light didn’t protect humans—
it summoned them.
It made sense.
Malevolent spirits feared sunlight, not lightbulbs.
Things that looked similar, but were different in meaning, often provoked curiosity from the wrong side.
Zhou Su closed his curtains.
The first thing he did back in his room was take out a Lychee-Wood Torch.
The blood-red mark had provided a lighter as well, labeled:
“A lighter that absolutely won’t fail at a critical moment.”
He lit the torch.
The flame was pale-gold, casting a circle of light about three meters wide.
Inside that circle, numerous horror props gleamed gold.
“…If a real one mixed itself in among these fakes, what ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) then?” he couldn’t help thinking.
A cold, damp presence suddenly pressed against his back.
A chill ran down his spine.
“Of course. Great timing,” he cursed silently.
He turned slowly.
A figure stood at the edge of the firelight—
its entire body charred black, as though burned in a massive fire.
Zhou Su remembered clearly:
He had not made a charred corpse prop recently.
More importantly—
the thick stench of blood, and that nauseating, oppressive aura—
no prop could imitate that.
He had been targeted.
His heartbeat hammered, his body trembling under raw animal fear.
But after several seconds—
the terror faded.
And what rose to replace it was… curiosity.
He had made moving horror props before, but they were mechanical tricks.
But this—
this was real.
A strong desire to study it surged up.
“…And here I thought I’d be the type who worships the dragon but fears it in person,” he thought wryly. Something was clearly wrong with his psyche.
He thought a moment—
then raised the torch and actively walked toward the charred corpse.
The golden firelight advanced.
The charred corpse continued to retreat.
“The flame’s banishing effect is even stronger than expected.”
The urge to experiment burned stronger.
Soon, he was no longer satisfied with the simple advance/retreat game.
He planted the torch upright in the lucky bamboo pot—
and stepped alone to the edge of the light.
Sensing the increasingly close human presence,
the charred corpse let out an excited, rasping howl—
and lunged.
When it touched the flame boundary,
a fine layer of golden flame spread across its body.
It screamed in agony—
and vanished.
“…Did it die just like that?”
Zhou Su shook his head.
Impossible.
Malevolent spirits wouldn’t be that fragile.
But his attention was no longer on it.
At the instant the charred corpse had approached,
he had felt something change inside his soul.
Instinctively—
he summoned the wordless crimson book.
The ancient red book floated before him—
but now, golden light flowed across its cover,
gathering, condensing—
and forming a title:
God’s Third Hand.