Chapter 1086: Bound to Lose

“Oh? So you’ve noticed it too?” Qi Xia nodded. “Carrying different ‘characters’ leads to different ‘doors.'”

“After all, it was you who had Dr. Zhao convey that to me,” Chu Tianqiu said.

“Since I chose the room, you pick the ‘character,'” Qi Xia replied. “One turn each—otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Chu Tianqiu pondered Qi Xia’s intentions. If he could freely choose between the “Human” or “Earth” level, it indeed suggested there were no lethal traps in the game arena.

Otherwise, the safest approach would be to install deadly mechanisms in both rooms and convince the “Zodiacs” inside each—an unreasonable workload for Tiantian.

So Qi Xia’s words were likely true: Tiantian had only crafted something extremely simple for this game. But Chu Tianqiu couldn’t guess what it was.

Now, he steadied himself and assessed the situation. His opponent was Qi Xia. Which gave him a higher chance of winning—the “Human” level or the “Earth” level?

The simplicity of the “Human” level meant victory could be decided swiftly with brute-force strategies, while the “Earth” level introduced more variables, potentially leading to a worse defeat.

But time was running out. This was likely their final game. Chu Tianqiu made his decision and picked up his “General” from the ground.

Since even his “General” had advanced to the enemy’s front line, straightforward tactics no longer applied. This time, they had to compete at the “Earth” level.

Qi Xia also nodded, casually picking up a “Soldier,” then gestured with his eyes for Chu Tianqiu to open the “door.”

Chu Tianqiu pocketed the “General” character and cautiously touched the door’s handle. It was cold, with no anomalies.

Steeling himself, he pushed the door open.

Inside was pitch-black, obscuring the path ahead.

“‘Earth Rabbit’s’ game…?” Chu Tianqiu murmured. “An ‘escape’—fitting for our current situation.”

“Let’s hope so,” Qi Xia agreed.

Just as Chu Tianqiu was about to step inside, he paused and turned back. “Qi Xia, one last question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Who’s the mole you planted in my team for this game?”

Qi Xia chuckled. “Unfortunately… while I’ve planted countless ‘needles’ in the ‘Land of the End,’ I never placed one in your team.”

“None…?” Even hearing Qi Xia deny it, Chu Tianqiu struggled to believe it.

This had been an unspoken assumption from the start. If there was no mole… then who had he been guarding against all along?

“The interesting part is,” Qi Xia continued, “even without planting a ‘needle,’ the mere suspicion achieves the same effect. It saves me effort, and keeps you perpetually wary.”

Chu Tianqiu suddenly understood—this was a strategy only Qi Xia could pull off.

His team included people like Dr. Zhao, Yan Zhichun, and Xu Liunian, who had close ties to Qi Xia. Precisely because planting a mole would’ve been easy, everyone assumed he had.

Qi Xia leaned into the assumption, subtly reinforcing the idea that Chu Tianqiu’s team had been infiltrated.

The brilliance of this tactic lay in the fact that, with no actual mole, no one seemed suspicious—making Chu Tianqiu distrust everyone until he found the “traitor.”

Since no one stood out, everyone became suspect.

Even for a high-risk task like smashing the display screen, he couldn’t trust his own teammates and did it himself—triggering a chain reaction that led him to this door.

“How absurd,” Chu Tianqiu grinned wryly. “From start to finish… my team was loyal. Even Han Yimo from your side stood with me, yet I failed to make use of it. Just like my life.”

“You got it backward,” Qi Xia said. “You believe me—the enemy ‘commander’—yet distrust your own allies. Don’t you see the irony?”

“But what choice did I have?” Chu Tianqiu countered. “Should I have trusted people weaker than me in ability, intellect, even ‘echoes’? Would that have been right?”

“Your mistake was always assuming you were superior to your teammates, only trusting those you deemed equals,” Qi Xia replied. “Unless you abandon that mindset… you might truly become the next Qinglong.”

“And what if I do? Our paths diverged from the beginning,” Chu Tianqiu said. “No one understands me. I’ve always been alone.”

“Spare me the melodrama,” Qi Xia scoffed. “Did Wen Qiaoyun not understand you?”

“Wen Qiaoyun…?”

“If I’m not mistaken, she’s waiting as your ‘last resort,’ betting her life on your outcome,” Qi Xia said. “She doesn’t even remember you, yet she’s willing to stake everything. And you claim ‘no one understands’? It’s not them failing to understand you—it’s you failing to understand them.”

After a pause, Chu Tianqiu muttered, “Perhaps.”

“This is the final moment,” Qi Xia said. “I have one last piece of advice for you.”

“Go on.”

“If you step through this door, you will lose,” Qi Xia stated. “But if you don’t, there’s still a slim chance you’ll win.”

Chu Tianqiu’s eyes dulled as he turned to the open, black void of the door.

For some reason, he also felt that stepping inside would decide the game. Yet he couldn’t believe entering would guarantee his defeat.

That was too absolute. Even if Qi Xia had the upper hand, there couldn’t be a scenario where he’d lose without fail.

After a long hesitation, he stepped through. If this was truly the end, it was time to see Qi Xia’s full capability.

Qi Xia sighed. Just as he was about to speak, a crisp *clink* echoed.

He glanced down at the characters on the ground. Had they just… made a sound?

But after a few seconds of silence, he turned his attention back to Chu Tianqiu.

Inside was an unnaturally dark expanse, vast and empty.

Chu Tianqiu frowned. Why did “Rabbit’s” game seem so bizarre?

Having never entered any game arena before out of caution, he wondered—were all the games in “Cangjie’s Chess” this strange?

He turned to say something to Qi Xia, only to freeze at the horrifying sight before him.

Qi Xia stood in the center of a black “door,” coldly watching him—while six identical black doors flanked them on either side.

This wasn’t “Rabbit’s” game at all. It was outside the “Cangjie’s Chess” arena.

Chu Tianqiu had never stepped into “Rabbit’s” game. The door marked “Rabbit” in the room’s center was a disguised “Door of Collapse.”

“I told you Tiantian only crafted the simplest things for this game,” Qi Xia said. “They weren’t ‘characters’ or ‘displays’—just ‘doors.’”