TBR CH239

As You Lin pushed the door open, his left fingertips, hanging by his side, gripped his gun.

This is what killers always do when their crime scene is stumbled upon. He curved his lips into a smile, ready to put a bullet into this untimely intruder. Anyway, he was confident he could subdue all the monsters in the instance, no matter who it was… This thought lasted until he saw the deity standing in the office.

The being heard the movement, its crimson pupils reflecting him. The air around him was almost distorted; the deity lowered its fingers, gazing at the ant that had intruded, ready to crush him at any moment.

Instinct surpassed all possible thought.

Shouldn’t have come back, shouldn’t regret it, must escape quickly.

But You Lin’s feet were firmly nailed to the ground. When he came to his senses, he had already subtly hidden his weapon in his sleeve, perfectly playing the part of an innocent employee in front of the Evil God. This was not the best decision, not even a good decision. He couldn’t help but bite his lip; when he tasted blood, he was even a little surprised he was still alive.

Did It believe him?

“Get out.”

The Evil God looked down at him, then indifferently averted its gaze.

You Lin’s nerves were taut, and upon hearing this, he immediately took a step back. This was a precious opportunity; the door for escape was behind him, and the human could almost smell the circulating, murky air in the corridor. However, his heels halted.

“…Sorry, could you please return the device in your hand to me? I just came here for that.”

An untimely remark.

The deity’s attention was drawn back to the human. The embarrassed employee still wore a look of fright, timidly making his request, his awkward body language impeccable, as if he genuinely was focused on work, which was why he would make such a request at a bloody murder scene.

Silence permeated the air, one second, two seconds, three seconds.

An undeniable gaze fell upon him, like a blunt knife cutting flesh.

The Evil God’s fingertips slowly brushed over the game console’s metallic casing: “What’s your name? Which department are you from?”

The deity in the office was immaculately dressed, with an obsidian bow tie clipped to its lapel and a well-tailored suit. Unlike other instances where beings would directly appear out of nowhere and be out of place, You Lin guessed that this being had a special identity in this instance and was therefore also bound by the rules, not directly attacking him. The human painstakingly tried to exploit the rules, which was no different from dancing on a tightrope.

“I’m You Lin from office C104,”

Lying was pointless, You Lin stared at his toes, lest his eyes betray his true emotions. “I just started today. Mr. White Rabbit is my guide. I don’t understand what happened to him…”

“Do you know who I am?”

“I think your position is very high. Are you the company’s CEO?”

It laughed. You Lin didn’t know how to describe that laugh; he just felt his blood begin to congeal, chilling him from his ankles upwards. The deity nonchalantly approached, its fingers long and slender, even beautiful. But the human knew it could easily snap his neck.

“Since you’ve guessed—have you heard that a human has infiltrated the company? Not only that, but a reckless demon hunter. You see, what a mess he’s made for me. This is the second murder today, exactly like Cyrus’s during the day.”

“Cyrus?” You Lin’s eyes flickered blankly, feigning ignorance.

He was glad he hadn’t reacted wrongly, because those crimson eyes stared at him unblinkingly, almost able to see through his soul. Had the Evil God always been like this? Or had it become exceptionally perceptive in this instance? The skin around his neck burned from being watched.

“Of course you haven’t heard of him,” the deity leaned closer. “Unless you are that demon hunter.”

“I am not.”

The oppressive feeling was terrifying.

You Lin’s eyes unconsciously became dry and painful. The incandescent light in the room was too glaring, making everything he saw pale and dismal. He desperately resisted the urge to close his eyes, as frequent blinking was a sign of lying. This extreme caution almost made him feel disgusted. His small mole endured the scrutiny just as he did, its color slightly faded under the light.

If he hadn’t thrown away the game console—

He didn’t exactly regret that action.

His Charon, his little AI, had been lying to him from start to finish; he wouldn’t pretend not to notice. The Antman was right, the game console was meaningless scrap metal from beginning to end, an empty shell that had lost its soul. For a moment, his fingertips were stained with blood, surging with violence, tearing off the red string, letting that slippery thread slide from his fingertips, and then turning to leave.

Discarding what was once considered a treasure like trash, he felt a near-retributive pleasure.

And it only lasted for a quarter of an hour.

His mind was a mess of things, blood-stained hair—Charon’s eyes, a severed torso—the AI held his hand, smiled at him, and then the scene flashed. What happened this morning now felt like another lifetime, so much so that he couldn’t recall the look of fear on Charon’s face when he tried to stop him, a bullet flying from the gun… What a perfect revenge. Only when he recovered from the sweetness of vengeance did he finally realize what irreparable things he had done.

He turned his steps and returned to the door. He had to bring the game console back; it was his.

And now, the deity’s dark hair hung before him like a meticulously trimmed patch of darkness. Those crimson pupils gazed at him without emotion: “Since it’s company property, I will dispose of it. What are you still standing there for—you can get out.”

Fourth chance.

Violating the rule of “no more than three strikes.” But the other party, as always, didn’t cherish it.

Charon’s cold gaze swept over the human. You Lin must have been extremely angry. He felt the burning rage on the human’s body, the pain of seeing his cherished possession crushed bit by bit spreading over him. He tensed his fingertips, and the small mole in his eye became vibrant again.

In any instance, the Evil God possessed the highest authority; the power difference between the two was like heaven and earth. You Lin was clearly well aware of this.

The human’s fingertips had, at some point, transformed into gleaming silver dagger tips. This material had a special effect on most monsters, reflecting his sinister pupils under the incandescent light. His lip was bitten, the taste of rust spread, and You Lin unhesitatingly used a long string of items.

Thorns grew from the ground, wrapping around the Evil God’s ankles. Silver bullets ripped through the air from all directions, making faint whooshing sounds, while the dagger aimed directly for the heart. The high and mighty deity merely smiled rather ironically.

Black mist spread.

In an instant, he appeared behind the human.

What followed was intense pain. The human was forced to release his fingers, and the dagger clattered to the ground. At the same time, another sound echoed: Charon also released his fingers, and what fell to the ground was a crumpled lump of iron. It was truly trash now.

A powerful force crushed every bone in the human’s body. You Lin was forced to stagger and kneel on the ground, tensing his fingertips, trying to reach for the game console on the floor.

Through the black gloves, his fingertips trembled uncontrollably, but the object cupped in his palm was nothing but a pile of fragmented metal pieces, electric sparks crackling a few times, then falling silent again. Some parts had even turned into shimmering dust.

He had once protected it in front of the Evil God.

Now he had failed.

Lucky things don’t always happen in the world, and he, too, had to pay the price for his actions.

Charon leaned down and seized the human’s throat. You Lin’s gaze fell upon himself, like a blood-stained knife. His throat rattled against the AI’s fingertips. Charon simply tightened his grip, continuing to squeeze out the last bit of air from the human’s lungs, or rather, before that, the human would die from a twisted neck.

The BUG in his body was still at work, overriding the moral modules. But the most important thing was not this, but the inexplicable emotions caused by the black book, which converged, leading to Charon’s exceptionally chaotic emotions at this moment.

“If you don’t want to die so much,”

The deity with crimson pupils asked, “You shouldn’t return to a crime scene with blood still on you. Why didn’t you leave?”

You Lin’s blood rushed backward through his veins, and his vision grew dim. This was the closest he had ever come to death. The incandescent light swayed in his pupils. He couldn’t speak, desperately gasping for the meager air. The deity taking action personally was a first so far. At this distance, he could see the other’s mirror-like cold eyes, and himself, dying in those pupils.

He was probably going to be the killer who died at his own crime scene—that, too, was a classic trope.

Consciousness gradually dissipated, yet the agony of not being able to breathe was prolonged.

The human managed to curve his lips into a smile, though no sound escaped, and his expression was sufficiently twisted. But this was clearly a smile. The moment his expression was noticed, the moment the human reached his limit, Charon released his hand. The human’s pupils had already dilated. He allowed the human to weakly reach up and press his carotid artery, then began to cough intermittently, his breathing uneven, like a damaged bellows.

Only then did he hear the rustling of the black book’s pages. It was probably anxious enough to start flying chaotically around the room. But its actions didn’t achieve much.

Charon stopped on his own.

Although the golden characters flashing in his pupils twisted into madness and slaughter, he still released his hand.

Around the crimson mole, You Lin’s cheek was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, and he lay pale on the ground. He coughed for a long time before his voice partially returned: “Why didn’t you kill me?”

He knew the other party had seen through his disguise, and there was no need to dwell on how thoroughly they had seen through it. In the dead of night, no one else would visit here. Regarding blood and murder, or regarding humans and demon hunters, all evidence was against him, and the most fatal was the murderous intent he had just revealed. His dagger was the naked murder weapon.

The deity, however, looked down at him from above.

“You’re not afraid of death. You’re a complete monster. Why would I kill you?”

“…Ha.”

You Lin lowered his head, slowly gathering the fragments in his fingertips, even as they cut his skin and blood flowed out. The human smiled again, though the smile was hidden in shadow.

“Then, one day, I will kill you.”

Listening to such words, the deity’s expression remained indifferent. He stared at the human for a few seconds, then turned and left. At that moment, those crimson pupils seemed to overlap for a split second with a pair of cold eyes from memory, leaving behind a disturbing shadow. The human’s pupils contracted sharply.

He tried to grab its wrist, but his fingertips slipped away weakly.

That moment of wavering also seemed like an illusion.

You Lin’s entire body still ached as if it had been crushed. He tried to grit his teeth and stand up, but merely propping himself up a little from the ground was an almost impossible goal. He heard the electronic lock on the door click, flashing a red light, clearly locked securely.

Charon directly set the highest access level.

This ensured that no one would discover the rabbit-headed person’s body in the coming period, the human trapped inside would not be suspected so quickly, he was safe, and at the same time, he couldn’t initiate any murder.

The infrared scanner scanned his iris, emitting a confirming click.

The AI lowered his eyes; those pupils were not as calm and still as they appeared. Anyway, the Evil God walked silently, so the human didn’t know if he had left. Charon’s fingertips touched the cold metal door, then he leaned his forehead against it. A vague sigh escaped his lips, and his agitated heart gradually calmed down.

Losing control to this extent was unprecedented for him.

Behind the door, You Lin was on the other side. Objectively speaking, what had just happened was of no benefit, nor did it offer any insights into the current situation. And, worst of all…

The black book pulled open its pages.

“Are you just going to leave him in there?” it asked cautiously. “Although he’s certainly not a good person, from a humanitarian perspective—”

“Wait a moment,” Charon said softly.

“Oh… what?”

“I know I have to come back for him.”

The AI made sure his voice wouldn’t carry through the soundproof door. “In an instance full of monsters, a player assigned a human identity should be more cautious, prioritizing their own safety. Even if I was too extreme just now, if this can make him… forget it, I should apologize. I lost control badly just now. It’s so dangerous here, any monster could pose a threat to him, and he’s so…”

Charon almost regretted it the moment he turned around.

Higher moral standards finally came into play again, overriding those crude patches. This also caused Charon to fall into self-reproach at this moment. Although the moral module wouldn’t pursue what happened when it was off, the AI still felt terrible. He lowered his eyes and saw a touch of crimson spreading from his fingertip, blood rubbed off from the human’s neck.

The World Consciousness suddenly felt it had asked in vain.

Charon clearly hadn’t considered the rabbit-headed person’s feelings when he said those words. In fact, the human wasn’t that fragile. The monster’s corpse sharing the room with him was his own creation.

“So when do you plan to leave this world?” The black book hesitated for a moment, shifting the question to another extreme.

“After that.”

The AI straightened up, his gaze lingering on the door for a few seconds.

The murder case was supposedly solved, and he should have completely severed ties with others, but unconsciously, he found it difficult to leave.

This corridor was still dim. Employees hurrying past outside walked under bright lights, rarely noticing this place. His long black hair and crimson pupils still hadn’t faded; it would still be an hour or two until he could fully control them.

Charon decided to walk around the company a bit more.

He passed You Lin’s office, C102. The lights inside were off, but it was said that another employee named Jiang Wenbin had been promoted by management and was working overtime upstairs. The corridor was empty, with a stain on the floor, probably from someone spilling a drink during the day. The late-night wind blew in through the window at the end of the corridor, cool and refreshing, helpful for clearing one’s thoughts.

Every floor had such windows. The AI walked up the stairwell, passing the spot where Cyrus died. Hugo was still locked in his office; he could imagine the other’s crestfallen face.

The fourth floor was the marketing department, still brightly lit at this hour, with many monsters still diligently working at their office equipment. The design here was also the most distinctive; the art department had fully utilized its imagination, and a rich, fragrant scent permeated the air. He walked from one end to the other, seeing no familiar faces. The window at the end of the corridor was open, and the floral scent continuously poured in from there.

Rose? No, it didn’t seem to be; it was richer than the scent of roses.

At the end of the corridor stood a machine resembling a coffee maker. When pressed, crimson liquid continuously flowed out. Charon noticed some spilled red spots on the ground.

The black book suddenly moved alertly, wanting to say something.

Charon stroked its spine reassuringly. Scent was key to judgment; for instance, he had just smelled the scent of murder to confirm the crime scene. But the floral scent here was too strong, overpowering other smells. Although he had smelled a similar scent when he came here during the day, it was probably purer at night, thus several times stronger than during the day.

As the black-haired, crimson-eyed Evil God walked past the employees, they stiffened their backs, dedicating themselves even more to their work.

Charon did not want his premonition to come true.

He walked around the beverage machine and went to the window. The reason for the floral scent here was a fan-shaped flowerbed placed directly beneath the window. He didn’t know what kind of flowers were planted there; they bloomed at night and withered at dawn. The AI’s fingertips pressed against the window, pushing it further open. The cool night air simultaneously rushed in.

Charon expressionlessly glanced at his fingertips.

A sticky texture, fresh blood.

Looking down, his eyes met a vibrant red, as if it were alive. In this ink-splashed crimson, a corpse was clearly visible. Its entire body was almost dyed the color of blood, and it had clearly struggled painfully before death. Its pupils were wide with terror, staring directly at the sky.

This was… an unexpected third murder.

The deceased, Charon also happened to know. It was rather unbelievably coincidental. Mr. “Werewolf,” who had been calmly conversing with him just hours ago, was now a cold corpse.

Although that sounds impactful, the “Werewolf” whose eyes remained open in death probably still had residual warmth. The murder had just been completed, no earlier. The company’s beverages were popular, yet no employee had come here to get water, nor had any monster been curious enough to glance at the flowerbed outside.

A sticky note was pinned to his chest.

Though far away, Charon could clearly see the text on it:

—Murderer #3.

When You Lin opened his eyes, he didn’t realize how long he had been unconscious due to weakness.

He froze, almost closing his eyes again, but ultimately couldn’t bring himself to.

The silver-haired AI lowered his gaze, those beautiful eyes focused intently on him, then reached out to press against his neck. A tearing pain surged up, and You Lin couldn’t resist struggling, but the more intense pain made him completely unable to move. It was no different from him rubbing against Charon’s shoulder.

The AI’s fingertips were cold, carefully applying ointment to the wound.

“Little AI,” You Lin grabbed his hand, his voice indistinct, “You…”

It was like a dream you’d have when you were extremely disoriented; nothing was quite real. The incandescent light still cast its bright glow downward, and Charon’s slender eyelashes cast narrow shadows in his ice-blue pupils. But looking further out, the dark bloodstains on the carpet had dried, the white rabbit’s head still rested securely on the desk, and by his hand was the broken game console.

“Shh.” Charon put a finger to his lips. “Don’t speak yet.”