As the onlookers watched in shock, the Earth Ox slowly approached.
“Stop, both of you,” he said calmly. “I don’t care if you kill each other, but take it outside this room.”
The two men remained stubborn, completely ignoring the Earth Ox, gritting their teeth as they struggled against each other.
Seeing them locked in combat, the Earth Ox gave up on persuasion. Instead, he bent down, effortlessly pulling Qiao Jiajin’s arm off Zhang Shan’s neck. Then, with his left hand gripping Zhang Shan’s collar and his right clutching Qiao Jiajin’s arm, he tossed them aside like pebbles, sending them crashing into the chairs and knocking everything over.
“Dang it!” Qiao Jiajin groaned, feeling like his bones were nearly shattered.
On the other side, Zhang Shan wasn’t faring much better—he writhed on the ground in pain, his wounds bleeding profusely.
“Rot in Hell, you damn ox… One day, I’ll skin you alive…”
The crowd quickly rushed over to check on them.
“Hey, Qiao Jiajin, you still alive?” someone asked.
Qiao Jiajin let out a bitter laugh. “What do you think?”
Tiantian and Lin Qin hurried over, helping Qiao Jiajin to his feet. Meanwhile, Zhang Shan was supported by Glasses and Lao Lü.
“You okay, Zhang Shan?” Glasses asked.
“I’m fine,” Zhang Shan grunted, scratching at his wounds. Though clearly in pain, he turned to Glasses and said, “Guess you were right—those two are interesting.”
“Right?” Glasses beamed as if he’d been personally praised. “The tattooed guy is strong, and the one called ‘Liar’ is sharp. They’re definitely qualified.”
Lao Lü, however, kept pursing his lips, clearly unconvinced.
“Come on, let’s go talk to them again,” Zhang Shan said with a hearty laugh, leading the two forward.
But before they could take three steps, the Earth Ox’s pitch-black hand clamped down on Zhang Shan’s shoulder.
“Looking for more trouble?”
Zhang Shan glanced at him. “Relax, just a friendly chat.”
The Earth Ox hesitated briefly before withdrawing his hand.
“Careful. I’m watching you.”
Within moments, Zhang Shan stood face-to-face with Qi Xia and Qiao Jiajin again.
Qiao Jiajin stepped forward, shielding Qi Xia. “Big guy, planning to settle the score outside?”
“Nah,” Zhang Shan said, scratching his gruesome chest wound. “I’m out of energy today. Let’s schedule a rematch.”
Qiao Jiajin smirked. “If you’re not here to fight, what do you want?”
“That’s unfair,” Zhang Shan sighed. “I never came to fight in the first place—your buddy was the one who attacked me.”
Qiao Jiajin thought for a moment and realized he was right.
“Not here to fight?” Qi Xia eyed him suspiciously. “Then why approach us?”
Zhang Shan turned and gestured at Glasses and Lao Lü. The two untied cloth pouches from their waists and handed them over. Though Lao Lü looked reluctant, he complied, clearly wary of Zhang Shan.
Zhang Shan weighed the pouches in his hands before tossing them to Qi Xia.
“Thirty-eight ‘Dao.’ Take it.”
Qi Xia caught them in disbelief. Opening them, he saw the golden orbs inside.
“What’s this about?” Qiao Jiajin narrowed his eyes. “We didn’t even finish our fight. Why give us these?”
“A bet’s a bet.” Zhang Shan glanced at Glasses. “Besides, Glasses here won’t stop singing your praises. Says you two are impressive.”
“Impressive?” Qi Xia and Qiao Jiajin exchanged confused looks.
“I wasn’t here to pick a fight in the first place,” Zhang Shan tapped his temple and said to Qi Xia. “Glasses told me you outsmarted that black bear. True?”
Qi Xia remained silent, his expression guarded.
“Don’t overthink it,” Zhang Shan said. “We’re gathering strong people to escape this place. Want in?”
“No,” Qi Xia answered flatly.
“Don’t be so quick to refuse.” Zhang Shan chuckled and patted Qi Xia’s shoulder. “Think it over.”
“Exactly!” Glasses chimed in. “Mr. Qiao, Mr. Liar, both of you are exceptional. Together, we might actually make it out!”
“Mr. Liar?” Qi Xia blinked. “You mean me?”
“Uh… yeah?” Glasses faltered. “Doesn’t Mr. Qiao call you ‘Liar’…?”
Qi Xia sighed. “Whatever. Call me what you want, but I’m not joining.”
“Why so stubborn?” Glasses frowned. “More people mean more strength. Plus, I’ve played a game with you—you’re a reliable teammate. If we work together—”
“I don’t trust you,” Qi Xia cut in. “Besides, only one person can leave this place. What’s the point of gathering people if they’re just cannon fodder in the end?”
“O-only one person?” Glasses froze. “What nonsense is that? Why would only one escape?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Qi Xia countered. “The animal masks said—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Wait.
Why did he think only one person could leave?
Had anyone actually said that?
No.
The Sheep had told Qi Xia that if they won the game, one of them would become a “god.”
When Qiao Jiajin had asked what would happen if they lost, the Sheep had simply replied—”What a pity.”
He never mentioned escaping.
“Did I misunderstand…?”
“Pity” was ambiguous.
Who was the Sheep pitying?
Himself… or the players?
Qi Xia’s eyes widened slightly.
Was there really a third option here—beyond “becoming a god” or “being destroyed”? Could they actually escape?
“Why… do you think you can escape together?” Qi Xia asked.
“Because we’ve seen people who escaped,” Zhang Shan answered.
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