Player Reload

"What's going on? Where are we going?"

"Run this way! Follow me!"

The footsteps echoed densely in the dim brick corridor.

Guests from all over the world, wearing masks, ran frantically led by bodyguards and security personnel.

Among this crowd were hedge fund CEOs, hotel chain tycoons, Latin American billionaires, and Middle Eastern princes. Wealthy individuals with a net worth below "US Dollar" weren't even qualified to participate in the slave auction of the underground cellar.

The lights went out, leaving only the beam of the flashlight swaying. Sporadic gunshots echoed from the far end of the corridor, causing the guests to tremble with each shot.

Compared to those born with a silver spoon, naively believing power and wealth come from bloodline inheritance, thinking they are the darlings of heaven,

the older guests, who had truly fought in the business world, had even greater fear in their eyes.

They knew very well that this world was one where people prey on each other, that the essence of power was violence, and that bullets wouldn't bounce off just because they were aimed at billionaires.

"We're here!"

The security personnel, leading at the front, stopped abruptly in front of an alloy security door, pulled out an access card, swiped it vigorously, and then entered the password.

No response.

The security personnel was stunned for a moment, then quickly checked the time on their watch.

Influenced by the trend of supposedly high-end novel security systems, the underground cellar had recently replaced its security doors, resetting the password daily.

Therefore, despite the security door using an internal battery and not affected by power outages, without today's latest password, it wouldn't open.

"Fuck!"

The security personnel punched the brick wall hard, the surge of adrenaline causing their heart to race, their limbs cold and numb. They turned to the guests, whispering, "Stay here, I'll go back for the password."

"Wait, don't you—"

The guests reached out but failed to grab the guard, only watching him disappear around the dark corner with his firearm and flashlight.

The atmosphere was oppressively tense, the remaining guards and bodyguards aiming their guns at the darkness, nervously swallowing.

The horrific screams echoing from afar seemed to materialize, carving through the guests like blades.

Most doors to the rooms on either side of the corridor were open, with luxury suites to the left. Beds, bathtubs, and wardrobes were all made from top-tier furnishings.

To the right, there was a row of circular rooms, each with huge one-way floor-to-ceiling windows embedded in the walls, allowing guests a direct view of the 'auction items' in the central room.

The black slave trade of the 16th century and today's slave auctions have no fundamental difference.

Except that now there are more types of slaves, from women deceived from Eastern European countries like Romania, Ukraine, Estonia, to illegal immigrants smuggled from Southeast Asian countries like Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam.

"Wait,"

A middle-aged lady with deep nasolabial folds and adorned with luxurious jewelry suddenly turned pale, whispering, "Did you hear that? Someone's singing."

Hm?

Everyone perked up their ears and indeed faintly heard singing in the slight breeze.

"1, 2, Freddy's comin' for you..."

The childish female voice was innocent and clear.

"3, 4, better lock your door..."

Many of the guests' faces changed drastically; this was no lullaby, it was the classic score from the 1984 horror movie "A Nightmare on Elm Street."

As the innocent singing echoed through the hallways, the sound of sharp metal scraping against brick followed.

It seemed as if the ghoul Freddy was indeed using metal claws to cut through the walls, slowly approaching them.

"Harvey?"

The middle-aged woman's voice trembled, and everyone turned to look at a bloated, middle-aged white man.

Harvey Weinstein, founder of Miramax Films, a famous Hollywood producer. The films he produced and distributed had over 300 Oscar nominations and over 70 wins, earning him the title of award-chasing king.

In the real world, he was a notorious sex addict, and in 2017, the Hollywood Me Too movement, started by his victims, ruined his reputation and eventually implicated Epstein.

"Don't look at me, I don't know!"

Weinstein growled, his voice low. Miramax produced horror films like "Hellraiser," but "A Nightmare on Elm Street" was from New Line Cinema.

"5, 6, grab your crucifix"

The juvenile chant drew nearer, and at that moment, a series of rapid gunshots cut the song short.

Half a minute later, the security personnel who had gone to get the password reappeared, hobbling into view.

He was covered in blood, the muzzle still smoking, with three fingers on his left hand broken, clutching the access card with the remaining two fingers.

"Solved. Someone carried a speaker, playing tricks."

The security personnel staggered closer, swiping the access card heavily on the reader and quickly inputting the password: "The attackers are armed personnel, likely relatives of the Eastern European slaves sold to the island, former Soviet soldiers something. We must act quickly and leave this place..."

Click.

The muzzle of a handgun was aimed at the back of the security personnel's head.

The one holding the gun was a Southeast Asian bodyguard, short in stature, with a sinister face, employed by the Sultan of Brunei Bolkiah.

Bang!

The Sultan's bodyguard pulled the trigger without hesitation, the bullet spinning out of the barrel, piercing through the skull of the security personnel.

The distinguished guests didn't have time to scream in terror. The security guard with his skull flipped open slowly turned around, twitching his mouth upward, and spoke in a clear, innocent female voice: "Oh, we've been discovered."

In the next instant, Li Cheng broke free from the guard's skin, forcefully waving his palm forward.

The [Fog Concealment Skill] is reduced to [Fogging Humidification Technique], creating a rapidly dissipating mist ahead. Although it can't fully block the view, it maximizes the reflection of flashlight beams, causing a dazzling effect to disrupt the shooting from distant bodyguards.

As for the closer threat, Li Cheng waves his hand again, flipping out and gripping a steel pipe hidden under his sleeve, thrusting it towards the Sultan's guard.

Caught by surprise, the Sultan's guard couldn't evade in time, his arm holding the gun was pierced by the sharp steel pipe.

But he hailed from Southeast Asian ancient martial arts, learning Khmer Martial Arts and Muay Thai from a young age. His endurance to impact and pain tolerance far surpassed those spoiled US Army troops bullying locals in the Middle East.

He didn't even blink an eye, rawly enduring the excruciating pain in his palm, gripping the steel pipe with his left hand, and at the same time, a whip kick with a sound of wind swept towards Li Cheng's head.

The attributes of a child's body ultimately were weaker. Li Cheng leaned backward, barely dodging the whip kick.

The Sultan's guard moved seamlessly, lifting his thigh high up, switching the whip kick to a downward chop.

This move was powerful, swift, like a battle axe. Li Cheng crossed his arms in front of him, and at the moment of collision, his shoulder dislocated instantly.

Just then, rustling noises sounded,

The Sultan's guard instinctively glanced sideways with the corner of his eyes, only to see a mass of silver slime crawling out from the guard's flesh, compressing into a disk on the ground, then bouncing high to smash Harvey Weinstein's skull.

With the recoil, the silver slime swung the hammer again, shattering the head of the Sultan of Brunei nearby.

No!

The Sultan's guard widened his eyes in fury. He wasn't unaware that there were Southeast Asian child slaves on the island, but the money the Sultan paid for his family's medical expenses was more than enough to buy his morality.

Immediately, without regard for himself, he dashed forward while shouting to alert the guards standing behind him, "Open fire!"

All this happened in just a few seconds. The guards reacted, pulling triggers towards the thickest mist.

The bullets hit the Sultan's guard's body, with residual force, all striking Li Cheng.

Yet he remained unaware, continuing to hold the crossed-arm posture.

Beside his ear, the system notification sound rang one after another.

[One VIP has died, current player's ability unlock progress increased by 2%]

[One VIP has died]

[One VIP has died]

...

[Current Spiritual Power Value limit: 76 points]

The long-lost Extraordinary Power regained more shares, promptly releasing the reduced [Rooting in Stone Technique], turning Li Cheng's body front into marble, easily deflecting all bullets.

With the bodyguards' magazines emptied, while they reloaded, Li Cheng leisurely lifted the stone-forming state, picking up the Sultan's guard's handgun from the ground,

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

After the gunshots, the bodyguards present were either dead or mortally wounded. And the remaining guests were struck on a leg by Gray Rain, knocked down to the floor like livestock awaiting slaughter in the abattoir.

Squeak—

The wheelchair noise approached from afar, Oracle pushed the wheelchair closer, behind her trailing a small cart, on which lay a little boy, wearing pink lace underwear, resembling a Christmas gift.

The boy was limp, but his eyes spun around, evidently drugged by some potent anesthetic.

As for his identity...

"Oh, isn't this Zhongtian Beiji?"

Li Cheng raised his eyebrow, recognizing this clear-eyed little boy unmistakably as Gouchen's brother, an old acquaintance, Zhongtian Beiji.

"I found him in the VIP room." Oracle glanced at those guests, "What should we do with these people?"

Li Cheng replied casually, "Finish them off too, unlock more strength."

The effect of unlocking strength was also marginal. A group of players having one more skill available would surely be more efficient than enhancing a single player by 2%.

"Please, no!"

A middle-aged man in a suit immediately knelt on the ground, desperately begging Li Cheng, "Spare my wife and child, please? I brought them to the island, they are innocent. I am willing to exchange 70% of my property...

No, all of my property for their lives!"

The middle-aged man was a bank speculator who came from nothing, he was in tears, and his wife beside him trembled like a leaf, holding their eight or nine-year-old son.

The family of three all wore a lion mask.

"There might be those coerced into coming to the island, but you've all reached the underground slave auction. Can you truly claim innocence? It's likely you're selecting slaves for the child, as gifts."

Li Cheng shook his head, waved his hand, "Go, you guys. I never kill women and children."

"Thank you, thank you!"

The middle-aged man nodded vigorously, frantically signaling his wife and son to assist each other with their only remaining good leg and awkwardly shuffle towards the corridor corner.

Just as they were about to disappear around the corner,

Bang! Bang!

Two gunshots, two bodies fell to the ground.

In the banker's blank gaze, Li Cheng blew off the gunpowder smoke, saying calmly, "I never kill women and children, but your wife is not a child, and your son is not a woman either."