GRMFBS CH256

“Again?”

That single word gave Zhan Jinli an uneasy feeling.

The world was vast; it couldn’t possibly be such a coincidence. He was probably just being overly sensitive when it came to cats.

Zhan Jinli shifted Xingxing slightly higher on his shoulder, preparing to continue powering through the stages.

The sooner he cleared them, the sooner he could escape this environment, which was far too noisy for his liking.

The staff member playing the Tree God was very professional, sighing: “No tree would ever like a cat that scrambles up and down its trunk all day long.”

Xingxing let out a displeased meow.

What does my tree-climbing have to do with a mere human like you?

His pupils rounded as he locked his gaze onto the swaying wooden plaques hanging from the branches.

Should I pounce on one~?

Zhan Jinli pressed a hand against the back of the cat’s head, his voice low:

“Don’t cause trouble.”

What did an Affinity Tree have to do with two single dogs like them?

Concerned, Xingxing had already picked up on the whispers of the others around them.

The Tree God staff member wouldn’t explain to them how previous players had cleared the trial, but within their group was someone whose friend belonged to an earlier team.

“My buddy told me their team ran into a cat, and that cat helped snatch the prop right off the tree for them,” the good pal muttered away.

Tree God staff member: …

Whatever. A cat had just swiped a prop from him moments ago; surely another one wouldn’t show up, right?

Zhan Jinli had no need for the “Tear of Yearning” prop, but Xingxing desperately wanted to climb that tree!

Anything other little kitties could do, he could do too!

Xingxing stubbornly scrambled up the trunk and unhooked an affinity plaque. Wasn’t this trip meant to take the kitty out to have fun? A kitty deserved to participate too!

The plaque Xingxing unhooked wasn’t the “Tear of Yearning” prop, but just an ordinary wooden plaque painted red, engraved with intricate patterns on one side and four characters on the other: “Unwavering Through Life and Death.”

The Tree God staff member beamed, lifting the affinity donation box to ask for payment. The “Tear of Yearning” plaque was a game prop, whereas ordinary affinity plaques were souvenir keepsakes available for purchase. Naturally, if they didn’t want it, putting it back was perfectly fine. On the table beneath the tree sat a whole row of identical, unhung prop plaques.

Zhan Jinli looked at Xingxing, who refused to let go of the plaque: …

Xingxing considered this the prey he had hunted down with his own paws. He was simply awesome!

Fine then, he would treat it as buying a cat toy.

Zhan Yan had bought a cat toy as well—Ghost King Wan Yan had taken a liking to the skull-shaped pit balls bobbing in the Yellow Spring water, so Zhan Yan bought him a whole pouch of them.

Wan Yan was thrilled, holding his little tail high the entire way.

Humph, I knew my chef treats me best~

The young couple proceeded to the next stage.

Passing through Ghost Gate, trekking across the River of Forgetfulness Path, and crossing Naihe Bridge, the next step was to face the judgment of the Mirror of Karma Platform.

Unsurprisingly, the outlaw domineering CEO Zhan Yan was the one destined for judgment; he was bound to a chair with iron chains by Ox-Head and Horse-Face. The chair was made of wood, equipped with iron shackles along the armrests and chair legs that could clamp a person’s forearms and ankles firmly in place.

Zhan Yan examined it with curiosity, and the Gossip System generated an item description:

[This is a torture chair constructed from wood and plastic, coated with metallic paint. Beneath the left armrest lies a red emergency release button, proving that its restraint function is purely cosmetic, with its genuine purpose being that of a rather specialized toy.]

Zhan Yan: …There really is no need to phrase it so suggestively. Classmate Xiao Gu’s gaze had completely shifted.

Zhan Yan’s face flushed hot under his scrutiny, and he subconsciously tried lifting a hand to touch his cheek. The chains rattled with a sharp clatter; his hands hadn’t even lifted a centimeter before being held fast.

Gu Jiancheng looked at Zhan Yan, and Zhan Yan instinctively looked back at him. Lean, defined forearms; pitch-black iron shackles contrasting sharply against porcelain-pale skin, pressing into the flesh from the tension; and within those dark, bright eyes danced the novelty and helplessness of suddenly having his physical freedom restrained.

Gu Jiancheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Zhan Yan blinked.

Oh~ So you’re into that sort of thing—

The atmosphere settling between the two somehow left no room for anyone else to interject. While Ox-Head and Horse-Face used the pit balls Zhan Yan had bought to tease the cat, the staff member playing the Judge had no choice but to step forward and advance the storyline.

Clearing his throat softly, he held up the Ledger of Life and Death and the Judge’s Brush to begin the trial.

For the crime of unlawfully imprisoning another person’s freedom, the domineering CEO would be penalized with a deduction of Soul Fire. To salvage that Soul Fire, assistance from teammates was mandatory, requiring two conditions: first, securing the victim’s forgiveness; second, obtaining a prop named the “Tower of Merit.”

The remaining teammates had gone off to solve riddles and hunt down props, while Gu Jiancheng was bound here in his capacity as the victim.

With both heavyweights of the group unavailable, the rest of the team lamented miserably that they might be stuck on this stage for a while. Neither Zhan Yan nor Gu Jiancheng minded.

It was all in good fun anyway; the trial was specifically designed this way, with the accused player chosen by drawing lots.

If a player had an individual role, an NPC staff member tied to their identity card would appear—such as a drowned ghost hauled up by an angler.

For paired roles, all parties involved were detained on the spot. Zhan Yan hadn’t drawn it, but Gu Jiancheng had unfortunately pulled the card.

Given the linked dynamic of a domineering CEO and his caged canary, no matter how one looked at it, the CEO was clearly the one who deserved to be put on trial.

And so the young couple was kept behind together to play around, leaving everyone else with no choice but to follow the puzzle-solving route on their own.

The Judge put on an imposing, solemn air: “Zhan Yan, you unlawfully restricted another’s personal freedom and caused the other party’s death in pursuit, committing a grave felony. This court sentences you…”

Before the sentence could finish, Gu Jiancheng had already spoken up: “I forgive him.”

The Judge choked. Wait, do you two lovebirds even know how to play the game? Forgiving him just like that—is bondage play not fun enough for you?

Gu Jiancheng remained silent, his gaze fixed steadily on Zhan Yan. Even knowing it was all make-believe, hearing someone claim Yan Yan had committed a grave felony and needed to be put on trial made him thoroughly displeased.

Judge, judge, judge—judge your own big head!

Yan Yan had no need to face judgment.

The staff member tried his best to drag out the time—otherwise, if the puzzle-solvers hadn’t found the props yet, what was there left to do here? Sit around staring blankly?

The Judge: “He unlawfully imprisoned you…”

Gu Jiancheng: “I let him imprison me.”

The Judge: “His pursuit of you resulted in…”

Gu Jiancheng: “I let him chase me.”

The Judge: “…Then why were you running?”

Gu Jiancheng: “It’s all roleplay spice.”

The Judge: …

Fine, fine, fine. Taking your little romantic kinks all the way down to the Underworld, are you? What a trendy persona!

The intended way to clear this stage was clearly for the accused to plead frantically while the victim pulled out all the stops to pry the truth from their lips. They had even prepared the props—a feather tickler and an ink brush. You don’t want to play with them? Fine, suit yourselves!

Zhan Yan laughed uncontrollably.

Completely oblivious to what he had just missed out on, classmate Xiao Gu continued dutifully fleshing out his character: “It was entirely consensual, so there is no victim, which means he is no criminal either. Let him go.”

The Judge was experienced and had crossed paths with players who refused to follow the script before. He slammed his gavel down: “Both of you are disrupting public order; you are both guilty!”

Locking them up together worked just as well; the Mirror of Karma Platform could still run a Q&A trial.

The two were partitioned off, an NPC stationed on either side.

“Before the Mirror of Karma, no lies may be told!” Ox-Head demanded with deep authority, “What is your height?”

Speaking aloud was forbidden; answers had to be written. Because only a folding screen separated them, speaking out loud amounted to cheating, which would cost them Soul Fire.

On the opposite side, Gu Jiancheng was being questioned separately on Zhan Yan’s height; only identical answers would pass the test.

The opening questions were relatively simple, covering basics like height, favorite foods, and the like. Then the difficulty began to ramp up.

“What does he detest the most?”

Zhan Yan pressed his lips together. What Xiao Gu hated most was definitely Infinite, but that couldn’t be said aloud. He couldn’t help glancing toward the partition.

Across the screen, the depiction of ferocious demons looked exceptionally chilling under the dim lighting.

Xiao Gu… what would he write?

Gu Jiancheng paused as well upon hearing that question.

Old memories were triggered uncontrollably.

Without question, it was Infinite.

He recalled the final dungeon trial he had cleared in Infinite. Infinite was fond of playing word games, yet among them existed a genuinely fair gambling table—the Supreme Balance.

And the Supreme Balance was situated inside Infinite’s most unique instance—the Judgment Court.

Strictly speaking, the Judgment Court was not a dungeon, nor did it have tasks. Just as its name implied, it was purely a trial, passing judgment on every single instance a player had cleared since the moment they entered Infinite.

No one suddenly hurled into life-or-death crises within Infinite could ever be prepared for a trial destined to arrive at an unknown date far in the future.

Fortunately, the Judgment Court’s rules weren’t decided entirely by Infinite; that had been the sole hidden path to survival.

Even so, he hadn’t walked away from Infinite’s Judgment Court unscathed.

Sitting in the defendant’s seat was agonizing: having the past stripped bare layer by layer, interrogated, evaluated, watching scars buried deep beneath the dust pried open once more, their scabs torn away just to see whether the wounds had truly healed or were still weeping blood…

Gu Jiancheng drew a deep breath.

Infinite. That answer couldn’t be spoken, nor did Yan Yan know about it.

What else did he detest?

How would Yan Yan expect him to answer?

The screen swayed gently as the Wan Yan kitty squeezed through from beneath, chasing a skull pit ball.

Gu Jiancheng cast him a side glance and penned down three characters on the paper.

“Third wheel.”

Ox-Head read out Zhan Yan’s answer, tapped the tablet, and the opposing answer was displayed as well: “Third wheel.”

These two truly shared uncanny tacit understanding; up until now, not a single answer had diverged.

“Next question: What is your greatest regret?”

Zhan Yan froze for a moment, then lifted his brush to write.

This time, the prolonged silence came from Gu Jiancheng’s side.

What was Yan Yan’s greatest regret…

He knew Zhan Yan had been adopted. Yan Yan had never once mentioned his biological parents.

A lost child will always yearn to know whether they were abandoned or merely misplaced by accident. Yan Yan must have searched before; if he never spoke of it, it was because he knew he had been abandoned.

Yet Gu Jiancheng refused to write that down as his answer.

The words “Don’t know” were written with sharp, aggressive strokes, his foul mood visible to the naked eye.

Horse-Face, who had posed the question, tapped the screen and grinned broadly: “Aha, finally one you didn’t get right.”

Gu Jiancheng kept a stern face: “What was it?”

What other regret did Yan Yan hold? He would make up for every single one of them in the future!

Horse-Face turned the screen toward him: “Here, look at your little romantic spice.”

Across the screen stretched a long line of text: “Meeting my canary far too late. If only I could have met him at the very, very beginning.”

Gu Jiancheng’s breath hitched involuntarily.

A sudden, loud clatter erupted between them. The Judge had been dangling a pit ball to play with Wan Yan, and the cat had knocked the screen right over.

As the grotesque, sinister demon portrait tumbled down, their gazes met across the rising dust.

Gu Jiancheng looked into Zhan Yan’s eyes; those two star-bright eyes mirrored gentle, rolling sea waves.

What a pity to have left Xiao Gu to endure all those things entirely alone.

The Judge scrambled in a panic to prop the screen back up, thoroughly embarrassed by the consequences of his cat-teasing antics.

“Please carry on, carry on!”

Gu Jiancheng felt the vibrations radiating from the sports pocket watch on his wrist accelerate sharply.

He couldn’t help biting down gently on the soft flesh inside his cheek, the sharp contours of his brow and eyes softening bit by bit.

Yan Yan… what was he thinking about? Why had his heart started racing so fast all of a sudden…

Meanwhile, Zhan Yan’s mini-map function was flashing an alarm.

His map range happened to encompass the Mirror of Karma Platform set, plus a small edge of the Naihe Bridge set.

Right now, right at the border of the map on the Naihe Bridge set, a specially marked green dot had appeared—Zhan Jinli.

Save me! Why on earth is older brother here too?!