Doomsday Wonderland Vol. 12: New Game Launch [Complete]

1395: The Reappearance of the Elephant

When Silvan slowly stood upright, the air seemed to thicken.

Jian Sheng shuddered and instinctively took a half step back. Lin Sanjiu, who had been around him for several months, believed that what she saw flash across his face was shock and regret. It was as if he had never considered that the moment when Silvan would oppose him would truly come, and only now did he realize the gravity of the situation.

Jian Sheng took a deep breath, shook his head, and smiled. "So, are we finally resorting to violence? You can barely stand, let alone fight. At this level of weakness, you can't even use your abilities. In the end, if it's not about strength, then what? After all, we aren't strangers. Can't companions try to resolve things peacefully?"

"Just go back," Silvan said quietly. "Don't come here again until it's time to pay taxes."

Everyone knew that wasn't possible. Jian Sheng was in too deep to back out now.

Silvan looked at Jian Sheng, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Hmm, I suppose so," he said in a deep, hoarse voice.

For a brief moment that followed, Lin Sanjiu saw nothing. She vaguely sensed Silvan's movement, as if he lunged at Jian Sheng. But it was as if he had leaped into a void, disappearing from view in the blink of an eye. How could he move at such a speed, relying only on the meager sustenance of three food balls?

Forgetting her plowing, she dropped her tools, dashed forward, and bent down to look toward the other end of the room. If Silvan's strength faltered, she would rush over and try her best to stop Jian Sheng even if it was in vain.

Peering from the floor, she couldn't distinguish between the two figures, only noticing they seemed to have collided. When one person fell and slid several feet toward her, she breathed a sigh of relief—Jian Sheng, with his brown-black hair, was the one who had fallen.

But Silvan didn't seem to fare much better. A pair of Munitions Factory combat boots came into view. He staggered for a moment before regaining his balance, seemingly not having the strength to pursue. With a swift motion, Jian Sheng got up and lunged, not at Silvan, but toward a corner of the room.

Confused, Lin Sanjiu followed his gaze and quickly understood. Piled there were daggers and swords they had taken out before the game started, used to mark things during their search for an exit.

Jian Sheng's hand reached out, grabbing a knife handle. With a swift pivot on his feet, he faced Silvan. In the time it took him to grab the knife, Lin Sanjiu had thought of dozens of ways to attack him. So why wouldn't Silvan? Yet, Jian Sheng managed to retrieve the knife without interruption.

Silvan's low panting almost seemed like an illusion when heard from the other end of the room.

"You don't have the strength to fight," Jian Sheng said with utmost certainty.

Even if she didn't want to admit it, Lin Sanjiu had the same thought. Silvan's previous charge had left him standing there and catching his breath for a few seconds, missing a prime opportunity to attack. And now, Jian Sheng had a knife.

"Don't be afraid," Silvan rasped with a wry smile. "I'll try to spare your life."

This statement infuriated Jian Sheng. Fueled by his anger, his feet lunged toward Silvan's combat boots. Most of the view was blocked, and Lin Sanjiu couldn't see that crucial knife. Just as she was becoming anxious, there was a sudden flash as if a light had been cast, allowing her to see both figures again.

Silvan subtly shifted, his movement so slow and gentle it seemed as if he wasn't moving, but rather, space itself was opening up for him. The gleaming blade of the knife glided close to his shoulder, missing by a hair's breadth as the wind from the motion ruffled his blonde hair. Space seemed to envelop him protectively.