City of Sinful Mist (The Black Death) Chapter 144: Treading the Waves

Wu Hui knew that, in all likelihood, he could not stop Smiling Face. Yet, he could not help but try.

If he truly let Smiling Face escape and return to strike again later, his group would be worn down and killed before long—or worse, they would be eroded by the black mist, driven to madness one by one, and ultimately enslaved.

Water from the small boat splashed against the ground. Everywhere this conjured seawater touched, it froze into ice. The frost blocked Smiling Face’s path.

"Are you truly a Level 4 player? To achieve this much while in such a depleted state... I truly wonder how far you would grow if given time." Smiling Face chuckled, stepping over Wu Hui’s blockade. Though his body bore traces of ice and snow, he was now unstoppable.

He turned and left, abandoning a group of people who were either near death or on the verge of insanity.

The reason for his departure was not just a need to recuperate; it was because his ambush against Orb Weaver had also failed. The Level 6 player he had deployed had perished alongside Mantis, and seven or eight Level 5s had been slaughtered by Zhao Xingluan and Orb Weaver.

Manpower was not an issue; there were plenty of maddened people in the city waiting for him to control them. For instance, the Deputy Director, who had taken down another Level 7 in the city center only to fall into a vegetative state himself.

In the city center, the battlefield of the two Level 7s:

A charred corpse wearing a "Young Scholar" mask lay in a pool of blood, looking truly wretched. Nearby, Gao Cheng leaned against a wall, feeling his life slipping away. He knew that without medical intervention, he would not last much longer. But he and Liao Yuan had done their utmost to stabilize the situation. Now, everything depended on the others.

The first person to reach him was not a reinforcement.

"Luno?" Gao Cheng looked at his colleague. "So, it was you..."

Smiling Face did not speak to him, merely reaching out to remove Gao Cheng’s "Martial Scholar" mask. "Hmm, it seems you really are dying. No acting here."

Gao Cheng stared at him, silent.

A hand clamped around his throat, slowly tightening. Soon, the duty-bound Level 6 player of the Tribunal was dead.

There were few Level 6s left in the city. One could say they were nearly wiped out. Smiling Face caressed his own mask with a hand not stained by blood, feeling a surge of irritation. He had killed so many Level 6s, yet dealing with a few Level 3s, 4s, and 5s was proving to be such a nuisance.

In the gaming circle, Level 5 was merely the starting line, and Level 4 was hardly considered a formal player. Ordinary people with specialized firearms could kill those at this stage.

*Hoo, stay calm.*

*It seems I am also being slowly affected by the black mist.*

Those fellows were indeed formidable, each a genius among players. But in the end, I will win. It is quite good to nip these future threats in the bud, is it not?

Smiling Face smiled happily. His own leveling speed was not particularly fast; it had taken him three years to reach Level 6, a very average pace. Of course, many never reached Level 6 in their entire lives, but that was primarily because they were too afraid to participate in the games. If one kept participating, three years to reach Level 6 was a very standard metric.

Thus, Smiling Face was not the genius people imagined. But in the game, there were no geniuses, only ordinary people struggling to survive.

"Don't blame me," Smiling Face said to Gao Cheng’s corpse.

But behind him, not far from the charred corpse lying in the pooled blood, an old man who appeared to be sixty years old suddenly opened his eyes. Flames gathered like a phoenix and lunged at Smiling Face.

As it turned out, the charred corpse was not Liao Yuan. He had placed his mask on a dead body as a decoy while he clung to his last breath, launching an attack at this very moment.

Truly, one must never underestimate others.

This flare of fire was Liao Yuan’s final strike. Whether it succeeded or not, he would die. Only seventeen years old this year, he had burned his life force multiple times to defeat powerful opponents—which was why he had previously looked like a man in his forties—and today, he had burned away the remaining twenty-odd years of his life.

This final strike was like a candle flickering in the wind, yet it carried the fury of a thunderbolt.

It engulfed Smiling Face. The roaring flames consumed his body, wiping the smile from his face and forcing a shrill, miserable scream from his throat.

*Success!*

Liao Yuan was ecstatic, only to realize he was completely drained and could no longer maintain the fire.

*How can this be!*

*How can it end like this...*

His breathing ceased, and his consciousness began to dissipate.

"Damn it! Damn it all!" Smiling Face was covered in burn marks, his smile vanished. "You bastards all deserve to die!"

"Ha..."

This laugh came from the Level 7 player, the local Deputy Director of the Tribunal. "You really... underestimated your colleagues."

"You have actually regained clarity? But you can’t move, can you?" Smiling Face took out a prop to heal himself while looking at the target of his journey. "Heh, I turned this entire city upside down single-handedly. Why should I have thought highly of you?"

"Single-handedly?" The Deputy Director sneered. "Get this straight! We lost to the Demon God, *cough, cough, cough, cough*."

His condition was dire; he could not move. Any movement would trigger another descent into madness, followed by enemy control. But if he remained still, he seemingly could not escape the fate of being controlled anyway. At this point, he could only try to weaken himself as much as possible so that Smiling Face would not gain a Level 7 combatant. If he could manage to commit suicide, that would be even better.

Smiling Face went to finish off Liao Yuan first, confirming he was completely dead, before walking toward the Deputy Director. He had given him quite a generous amount of time.

"You must be attempting suicide, right?"

"Perfect. It is exactly when you are near death that I have the confidence to control a Level 7."

"Thank you for leaving your body to me."

"Hahahahaha!"

The Deputy Director, in his final moments, heard these words. His eyes snapped open, glaring fixedly at Smiling Face.

This was a death with eyes wide open in resentment.

Once he controlled a Level 7 puppet, the likes of Orb Weaver or Wu Hui would no longer be a problem. He and the puppet simply both needed a rest.

Tomorrow would be the day of the enemy's demise.

At this moment, Wu Hui knew his side was in a terrible state. Li Xiaoyue was unconscious and would likely need at least a day or two to wake up. Li Xiaojing had reached the point where she needed to be restrained.

The black mist on Guan Shanting and Ma Fushao was growing thicker. Orb Weaver had refused to rendezvous with them, though Zhao Xingluan had, with a rare sense of conscience, sought them out. Orb Weaver operated alone, which was safer. Now that the light had faded, he was hiding where no one could find him. He was likely lurking in the shadows, planning to jump out and support them once the dust settled.

Wang Xiaodie was still in a state of loss of control. Ren Yin was finding it increasingly difficult to restrain her, having to issue commands every so often. Furthermore, Ren Yin herself was being affected by the black mist.

The sky began to brighten. There was one hour left until Wu Hui’s next game.

The attack Smiling Face had promised never came. Yet, no one dared to rest. Perhaps it was just an enemy ploy, but they had no other choice.