“Su Shan, you’re gambling recklessly, and it’s going to cost you,” Qi Xia said. “When you’re devising tactics, it’s best to analyze the battlefield from the enemy’s perspective.”
“Oh really?” Su Shan replied indifferently. “Are you teaching me how to strategize now?”
In the glass room, with a crisp *snap*, a brick fell from above, landing between the two of them.
This was the first time Dr. Zhao had seen something that could serve as a weapon. He quickly stepped forward and picked it up.
But the moment he looked up, he saw something swinging toward him. Instinctively, he raised his arm to block it—only to feel a brutal force slam into him, sending him stumbling backward before he collapsed to the ground.
Zi Chen’s eyes were bloodshot as he mounted Dr. Zhao, raising the brick and smashing it down at him with savage force.
Dr. Zhao hastily dropped his own brick and shielded his head with his arms.
The tall man’s attacks rained down wildly on his arms, devoid of any technique. Dr. Zhao had never been beaten like this before—his arms felt as if they were breaking.
“Ahhhh!” Dr. Zhao screamed in panic. “Murder! Murder!”
Zi Chen struck again and again like a madman, until Dr. Zhao’s cries turned into sobbing wails. Finally, the voice of Di Ji rang out coldly: “Time’s up. Cease all actions.”
Hearing this, Zi Chen paused, as if snapping out of a trance. He looked down at the man beneath him—already battered into a whimpering mess. Though Dr. Zhao had protected his head with his arms, his mouth and nose were now bleeding.
“You…” Zi Chen started to say something but swallowed his words. Slowly, he stood up and tossed the brick aside.
Qi Xia sighed in resignation. Just as he had predicted—when both sides played the same card, Dr. Zhao was doomed to lose.
As he pondered this, Di Ji picked up the walkie-talkie and said icily, “Discard your prop immediately.”
Qi Xia stiffened, turning to look. Dr. Zhao was writhing on the ground, groaning in pain, the brick lying untouched beside him.
“Hey…” Qi Xia stood and walked to the glass wall, knocking on it. “Dr. Zhao, are you okay? You need to discard your prop now.”
“I’m done with this…” Dr. Zhao’s muffled voice came from inside the glass room. “You’ve been playing me this whole time. If this keeps going, I’ll die…”
“I’m not playing you,” Qi Xia said. “If you give up now, we both *will* die.”
He knew the hardest part of this game was that the “Strategist” and the “Fighter” could barely communicate. Both sides had to rely on independent tactics to cooperate.
If their strategies diverged, death was certain.
“Strategist, step away from the glass,” Di Ji commanded coldly.
“Dr. Zhao,” Qi Xia called sharply. “Get up first.”
“Then promise me… next round, give me the *knife*!” Dr. Zhao, still sprawled on the ground, demanded. “I’ll kill him—just give me the *knife*!”
Hearing this, Qi Xia tightened his grip on the cards in his hand. He *did* have a “knife,” but as the key to victory, it couldn’t be played recklessly.
“Dr. Zhao… *I* decide what card to play,” Qi Xia said. “*I’m* the Strategist.”
“I don’t give a damn if you’re the Strategist or not! If you don’t give me the knife, next round I’ll make sure we *both* die!!!” Dr. Zhao howled, thrashing on the ground like a petulant child.
“Strategist, step away from the glass *now*!!!” Di Ji shrieked.
A shadow flickered across Qi Xia’s eyes. Cooperating with someone like Dr. Zhao was clearly a mistake—he didn’t trust Qi Xia at all.
Or… was it something else?
Pausing, Qi Xia finally said, “Fine, Dr. Zhao. I get it. Just get up first.”
Only then did Dr. Zhao slowly rise, picking up the brick and muttering curses as he walked toward the window at the back.
The moment he turned, his pained expression vanished, replaced by cold indifference. He shot Qi Xia a meaningful glance.
*”Got it now, kid?”* Dr. Zhao thought to himself.
Seeing his expression, Qi Xia smirked. “I knew it…”
Dr. Zhao discarded the brick, and Qi Xia returned to his seat at the table.
The fifth round was about to begin.
“Draw your cards,” Di Ji instructed.
For the first time, Su Shan, who had always been quick to act, hesitated.
Qi Xia glanced at her curiously. “What’s wrong?”
“You go first,” Su Shan said coldly. “It’s unfair that I always take the lead.”
“Unfair?”
After a brief hesitation, Qi Xia reached out decisively and drew a card.
As expected—it was the most abundant card: “Rope.”
Was this a bad draw?
No. It was perfect.
Qi Xia shuffled the cards in his hand, then placed the “Rope” face-down on the table.
Dr. Zhao, being a neurologist, was no fool. His earlier act of desperation had been a ploy to bait out all of his opponent’s “Shields.”
This “Rope” had arrived at just the right moment—it was time to make it work beyond expectations.
Su Shan deliberated for a while before also placing a card down, her expression unusually cautious.
“Reveal your cards.”
Both flipped their cards simultaneously—two “Ropes.”
“Qi Xia, I read you,” Su Shan murmured.
Qi Xia showed no surprise at her card.
This girl, Su Shan, was exceptionally sharp. It was no shock that she saw through Dr. Zhao’s ruse.
The only downside was that her strategy had successfully forced them to expend a “Rope.”
Dr. Zhao wasn’t foolish enough to gamble two lives on a knife, but his tactics had been rushed.
Inside the glass room, two ropes descended.
Expressionless, Dr. Zhao picked them up. He knew Qi Xia had understood his message.
But why had the opponent also played “Rope”?
Had they run out of “Shields”?
Or had the girl seen through the plan?
Zi Chen, holding a “Rope” for the first time, looked uneasy. In the previous four rounds, his props had been either knives or bricks—but now he was stuck with the least lethal option.
As he hesitated, Dr. Zhao lashed out with his rope.
Before Zi Chen could block, the rope struck his arm—
—and the pain was worse than being hit with an iron rod.
“Ahhh!!” Zi Chen howled, nearly dropping the rope. “You *bastard*—!”
Folding the rope in half, he stormed forward. “You *dare* hit me?!”
Knowing he couldn’t wield the rope effectively at full length, Zi Chen shortened it, turning it into a makeshift whip. He swung it viciously at Dr. Zhao.
Dr. Zhao retaliated in kind—blocking a few strikes before folding his own rope and cracking it back.
Watching this, Qi Xia nodded.
So “Rope” wasn’t entirely useless. When both fighters had one, they instinctively kept their distance.
This forced them into a brutal exchange of lashes, pushing the game into chaos.
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