Chapter 169: Life Card

Su Shuang reached out and grabbed a card, followed closely by Qi Xia.

The face of the card didn’t matter at all.

Their strategies had long been decided.

Qi Xia placed a “Pistol” on the table, while Su Shuang set down a “Knife.”

Neither of them hid their cards—instead, they openly revealed them face-up.

“Su Shuang, I have the ‘Gun,’ and you have the ‘Knife,’” Qi Xia said.

Su Shuang nodded. “Qi Xia, have you ever fired a gun before?”

“Fired a gun?”

“Do you know what model of pistol will drop when we play this card?” Su Shuang pressed. “How do you load it? How do you disengage the safety?”

Qi Xia frowned slightly but didn’t answer.

“I bet your teammate can’t pull the trigger within ten seconds. Even if he succeeds, he won’t kill Zichen outright.” Su Shuang feigned calmness. “Ten seconds is too short.”

Then, she pulled out another “Pistol” card and flipped it to show Qi Xia.

“As long as Zichen is still breathing, I’ll make sure he gets the ‘Pistol’ in the next round. That’s when the real showdown begins.”

Qi Xia stared at Su Shuang’s eyes for a long moment before saying, “I really hope you don’t die here.”

“Oh, really?” Su Shuang scoffed. “Yet you keep going for the kill. One of us is definitely dying here.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Qi Xia scratched his head. “Look, after this game… if you figure something out, you can find me at the school in the west.”

“What?” Su Shuang blinked. “After this game?”

“It’s complicated to explain.” Qi Xia shook his head. “You might not even remember me.”

“Enough distractions.” Su Shuang cut him off. “All I see right now is victory or defeat. Let’s begin.”

The referee, Di Ji, waved his hand after seeing their cards, and the props inside the glass room dropped.

Zichen immediately grabbed the machete from the floor, but before he could charge forward, a pitch-black gun barrel was already aimed at him.

“Don’t move,” Dr. Zhao warned.

“You—”

Zichen noticed the man’s gun-wielding shoulder slightly pulled back, arms bent, gripping the weapon with both hands—his stance was unmistakably professional.

In Dr. Zhao’s mind echoed Qi Xia’s words: *When I play the ‘Pistol,’ make sure it never hits the ground.*

The situation unfolded exactly as Qi Xia had predicted.

“This Glock 19 is identical to the one I used in shooting practice.” Dr. Zhao gritted his teeth. “I’ve aimed at your chest. Without medical aid, survival chances after a torso hit are slim.”

Zichen swallowed hard, sensing the man was likely telling the truth.

But surrender was out of the question. His lips twitched as he forced out four words: “You’re bluffing…”

“Try me.” Dr. Zhao’s hands didn’t waver, his gaze locked onto Zichen. “Drop the knife, and in exchange, I won’t shoot this round.”

“Drop it…?” Zichen’s mind raced. *If he has a gun, why insist I drop the knife?*

“I’ll count down from five. If you don’t drop it, I pull the trigger.” Dr. Zhao paused, then began, “Five… four… three… two…”

“I’m not dropping it!” Zichen roared. “I’ll kill you!”

Just as he raised the knife to lunge forward, a cold automated voice announced: “Time’s up. Cease all actions.”

“Wha—?” Zichen looked up in confusion—the ten seconds had passed.

Whether the man’s words were true or not, he had been stalling.

But why?

“Both of you, discard your props.”

Without hesitation, Dr. Zhao turned and tossed the pistol into a slot. Bewildered, Zichen had no choice but to throw his knife into his own slot.

This was his second time holding the knife, yet both times he had been powerless. The frustration gnawed at him.

“Qi Xia, what are you scheming?” Su Shuang demanded.

“I…” Qi Xia pondered for a moment. “I’m betting everything we have on this table.”

“Betting?”

“If possible, I also want to push you to the brink of despair,” Qi Xia added.

“You’re truly insane…” Su Shuang’s hands trembled. “Not only do you want me dead, but you also want me to despair?”

“I…” Qi Xia didn’t elaborate, merely nodding.

“Round Eight. Draw your cards.”

Qi Xia immediately drew a card and tossed it aside without looking.

Su Shuang slowly drew hers, knowing that regardless of his plans, this was her best chance to kill him.

Following her strategy, she played the “Pistol.”

Qi Xia, meanwhile, played a “Knife.”

Neither concealed their moves—both laid their cards bare.

“The tables have turned, Su Shuang,” Qi Xia said. “This round, you have the gun. What will you do?”

“I’ll kill you without hesitation,” she replied.

Di Ji waved his hand, and the props for Round Eight dropped.

Zichen spotted the pistol and lunged for it, aiming at Dr. Zhao—but within half a second, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

The gun in his hand… was too light.

Dr. Zhao calmly picked up the knife and looked up. “Forgive me.”

With that, he charged forward.

“What the hell is this?!”

Zichen pulled the trigger, but only a nearly invisible trickle of water sprayed from the barrel.

Su Shuang’s eyes widened in shock—she had never considered this possibility.

All the “props” in this game were designed for killing. The clubs were sharpened, the knives honed… but the “gun” was a toy?

Dr. Zhao closed the distance in seconds, slashing Zichen’s thigh with the knife.

“Ahhh!!” Zichen screamed, collapsing to his knees as blood gushed from the wound.

He thought he was dead.

But after the single strike, Dr. Zhao didn’t press further. Instead, he retreated with a grave expression, waiting for the ten seconds to expire before tossing the knife into the slot.

Gritting his teeth, Zichen stood and, despite the pain, threw the pistol away.

“So you knew all along it was a toy…” Zichen muttered. “That’s why you caught it before it hit the ground—so I wouldn’t hear it was plastic.”

“You still don’t realize how terrifying our ‘planner’ is,” Dr. Zhao sighed. “He directed me to use a water gun to disarm you.”

The gravity of the situation dawned on Su Shuang.

The most powerful “Life Card” was nothing but useless plastic—its lethality paled even compared to a rope.

“That damn rooster planted a fleeting hope in this deck…” Su Shuang slowly raised her head, feeling played. “He’s mocking me.”

“He’s not mocking you.” Qi Xia shook his head, pointing at the card’s text. “This is called the ‘Life Card,’ and it’s always been labeled ‘JOKER.’”

“What…?”

“Think about it. The shields in this game are wooden—meaning ‘Pistol always wins.’” Qi Xia said calmly. “If that were true, why bother with all this strategy? Whoever draws the ‘Gun’ wins? That’s not what Di Ji wants. Look at our cards. He wants us to torment each other in a drawn-out battle. So the ‘Pistol’ is just a prank—playing this ‘Life Card’ means no one dies.”