Chapter 595: The Groundhog Rule

“I guessed,” the Earth Pig said, lifting his gaze. “His rise was far too smooth—countless achievements, universal admiration, even overshadowing the master. I suspect ‘Heavenly Dragon’ simply found an excuse to eliminate him. His very existence undermined the authority of ‘Heavenly Dragon’s’ rule.”

“So… do you know what happened between him and Heavenly Dragon?” the Black Sheep asked.

“No,” the Earth Pig replied. “All I know is that ‘Heavenly Dragon’ obeyed White Sheep’s every word. Isn’t that strange enough?”

“Obeyed every word…?”

“White Sheep suggested increasing the game difficulty, and ‘Heavenly Dragon’ let him oversee all newly appointed ‘Earth-level’ games. Have you ever seen another ‘Zodiac’ receive such treatment?” The Earth Pig paused, then added, “Wait… actually, there was once another ‘Zodiac’ who designed games for others.”

With that, he lowered his gaze to the Earth Horse, his expression cold. “You know more about this than I do, don’t you?”

The Earth Horse, propping herself up from the ground, slowly stood and sneered, “That’s right. My faith was never in ‘White Sheep’—it was in my mentor, ‘Golden Monkey.'”

“Golden Monkey?”

“My ‘Wooden Oxen and Gliding Horses’ game was designed with her help. She ingeniously incorporated the ‘Big Dipper’ element, leaving participants just enough hope while ensuring they’d either die or be maimed…”

The younger ‘Zodiacs’ exchanged glances, their memories devoid of any such figure.

The Earth Pig explained, “Golden Monkey ascended to ‘Heaven’ thirty years ago. It’s no surprise you don’t recognize her.”

“Ascended to ‘Heaven’ thirty years ago…?” A few of them seemed to connect the dots. “You mean the current ‘Heavenly Monkey’?”

“No… Monkey Sister likely left…” the Earth Horse interjected. “Her goal was always to ‘escape.’ She had no reason to become ‘Heavenly Monkey.'”

The Black Sheep and the Losing Tiger felt the conversation had circled back to the beginning.

Could those who ascended to ‘Heaven’ truly leave this place?

And how could they prove ‘Golden Monkey’ had escaped, rather than ending up like Qi Xia—reduced to a mere ‘participant’?

“So, do you know Golden Monkey’s original name?” the Black Sheep pressed. “Did you ever see her in ‘Terminal Land’?”

“No,” the Earth Horse stated firmly. “That’s precisely why I can’t understand your ‘rebellion.’ Thirty years—thirty years, and I’ve never seen anyone resembling Monkey Sister in ‘Terminal Land.’ That’s why I reject your ideas. I *will* report you.”

Her unwavering glare made the situation feel increasingly precarious.

They had assumed the Earth Pig would be the toughest opponent in this clash, but now it was clear the Earth Horse was the true schemer. She had goaded the Earth Pig into confrontation, and even after being exposed, she refused to back down.

As a full-fledged ‘Earth-level,’ they had no justification to restrain her, let alone kill her outright. What could they do now?

The Losing Tiger clenched his fists in frustration. If White Sheep was rallying ‘Zodiacs’ outside, it was inevitable that dissenters like her would learn of the plan. If they couldn’t handle her here, the entire operation—barely two days old—would collapse.

After a tense silence, the Earth Rat straightened his tie and spoke up. “Gentlemen… mind if I chime in?”

No one objected, so all eyes turned to him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just a bit confused.” The Earth Rat forced a smile. “Horse Leader, who exactly are you planning to report us to? And what exactly would you report?”

“To ‘Heavenly Dragon,’ of course!” the Earth Horse snapped. “You’re plotting a rebellion! Did you think I’d keep quiet about something this huge?!”

“Please, don’t be hasty.” The Earth Rat bowed obsequiously. “Leader, calm down. I hear anger aggravates ankle pain.”

“You—!”

His faux concern nearly sent the Earth Horse into a rage.

“Leader, if you think about it, chaos is nothing new on the ‘Train,'” the Earth Rat mused, slipping his hands into his pockets. “‘Heavenly Dragon’ must know that while we ‘Earth-levels’ respect our superiors, we also secretly wish for their sudden demise. Otherwise, how would any of us ever ascend to ‘Heaven’?”

“Speak plainly. I don’t follow,” the Earth Horse scoffed.

“Then I’ll be blunt.” The Earth Rat grinned. “You accuse us of ‘rebellion,’ but at worst, we just want our superiors dead. How do you think ‘Heavenly Dragon’ would react? Outrage? Or indifference?”

The Earth Horse faltered, her lips trembling beneath her garish lipstick.

“You’re trying to blackmail us with this ‘rebellion’ nonsense—I get it.” The Earth Rat nodded. “But sorry, this time, it won’t work. Ever worked in an office? Think about it: when underlings scheme against middle management, how does the boss usually react?”

His incisive analogy left the Earth Horse speechless, her face contorted in frustration.

“If you won’t say it, I will—the boss *encourages* it.” The Earth Rat bared his teeth in a grin. “Nothing like a little competition to motivate the underlings and keep the managers on their toes. The boss reaps the benefits while everyone else fights. Sound familiar?”

As the Earth Rat vividly outlined corporate dynamics, the others reassessed him. Unreliable as he seemed, his mind was sharp when it counted.

After a long pause, the Earth Horse sighed. “You outnumber me. I can’t win this.”

“Leader, don’t sell yourself short. No matter how many of us there are, I’m the only one talking.” The Earth Rat gave a mock bow. “If you can out-argue me, by all means, try.”

“I’m done with you.” The Earth Horse turned away, limping toward the door as if to leave.

The group collectively exhaled—the ticking time bomb had been defused.

“Leaving so soon, Leader? No more threats?” the Earth Rat taunted from behind.

“Drop dead,” the Earth Horse spat.

“Hold on, don’t rush off…” The Earth Rat’s smile turned icy. “Now that you’re done threatening us, it’s *my* turn.”