Chapter 44: “——I’m Behind You!”

Chapter 44 "—I'm right behind you!"

"A performance..."

The bespectacled man slowly repeated Chu Fu's remark, then suddenly laughed. "True, from your perspective, what we staged was nothing but a farce, wasn't it?"

As he spoke, his posture straightened slightly, and his expression shifted—though the change was subtle, the aura he exuded was entirely different.

Now, he seemed more like a player who belonged in the gods' playground, ready to dance intimately with death at any moment, rather than a cowering sheep.

Meng Siyou and the office worker both showed varying degrees of surprise, while Chu Fu remained composed: "So now, can you tell us what you concealed about the first advertisement?"

The bespectacled man removed his glasses thick as bottle-bottoms, lifted the hem of his white shirt to wipe away the bloodstains on the lenses, and sighed:

"From the moment I first saw the other players, I knew you were the one not to be trifled with—I sensed a faint dread emanating from you, something rooted in the very essence of power... Now, it seems I was right."

"This is a belated greeting: It's an honor to meet you, a superior being in this domain."

The more he observed, the more he was struck by Chu Fu's presence, so distinct from the other players. It wasn't so much "arrogance" as a natural, all-pervading sense of control.

Perhaps only a High-level Ability User truly approaching divinity could possess such absolute authority over all things.

After this reflection, he put his glasses back on and said solemnly, "You're right. The one who should have been flayed alive and bled out was me..."

Then, the bespectacled man calmly recounted everything that had happened after he selected the skin cream advertisement.

The crimson tablecloth soaked in blood, the gleaming knives and forks, and the bloodstained, gleaming smiles of the woman and the baby on the screen...

When he found himself unwittingly standing before the dining table, his terror had been genuine.

"I survived only thanks to that member of the Burning Pure Land," the bespectacled man chuckled ruefully. "My Ability is a fusion of the Calamity and Fate Domains, called *Scales of Substitution*."

"As long as someone forms a strong enough bond with me, I can force a one-sided trade through the scales. On the left side is the weight of the connection, and on the right is the calamity I’m about to suffer—if the left outweighs the right, the transaction is complete, and I can transfer the fate of disaster onto the other person."

In this perilous playground, building positive relationships between two strangers was difficult.

But negative, malicious connections? Those were easy—so easy that the bespectacled man only needed to appear vulnerable enough to invite abuse.

And so, with malice as the counterweight, a transaction began silently, unbeknownst to the bald man.

Every ounce of scorn, every mocking word, every act of violence from the bald man added weight to the scales, hastening his own demise.

Thus, while the bald man hunted for a scapegoat, the bespectacled man was also searching—for someone whose malice toward him was thick enough to shoulder his suffering in his stead.

Among the five players, the bespectacled man's Ability wasn’t particularly high-tier, and its usage restrictions were severe, but its unpredictability made it dangerous.

The shadowy scales conjured by his Ability were visible only to him—and he would simply watch as one side grew heavier and heavier, until it drowned the source of malice beneath its cloying weight.

"The reason I tried to hide the truth is that, unless absolutely necessary, I prefer not to reveal my Ability..."

The bespectacled man spread his hands helplessly. "Based on past experience, once other players learn of it, they instinctively grow wary or outright exclude me from the group. But we all know that being isolated means facing even greater dangers."

"Uh," the office worker said with a complicated expression, struggling for words before finally muttering, "You two... really were made for each other."

Both saw the other as nothing more than prey to be exploited...

Chu Fu mused, "So the advertisements don’t attack indiscriminately—they target the player who chooses them? That makes the selection phase crucial. You should pick the one that aligns best with your Ability’s strengths."

Then he smiled. "If you’re willing to trust me, I can make the final call—let me see what fragments of your futures look like."

Perhaps cowed by the presence of a superior in his domain, the bespectacled man behaved with unusual docility.

To prove his sincerity in refraining from further "transactions," he deliberately faded into the background, retreating to a corner and minimizing interaction with the others.

Once they’d sorted through their information, the players began selecting advertisements again.

"I’ll go first," the office worker volunteered. "I’d like to finish early and just relax..."

After scanning the options, she immediately ruled out dangerous-looking options like the "Wan Shi An Medical Center" advertisement.

As an Ability User of the Life Domain, psychic attacks weren’t her forte, so she instinctively avoided them.

"Physical harm is preferable. As long as even a speck of ash remains, I can regrow."

She muttered to herself as she whittled it down to two options.

One was a commercial for "Screaming Ice Cream," featuring a giant ice cream cone with a scoop of ice cream, behind which half of a grinning face with its tongue lolling out, poised to lick.

The other was a PSA for early childhood education, drawn in a cartoonish style with simple lines and warm colors, depicting a cozy classroom where a cartoon teacher stood behind a podium.

The office worker glanced at Chu Fu, her finger poised over the ice cream ad. "If I pick the ice cream...?"

Chu Fu stiffened as a vision flashed before his eyes—the office worker shrieking hysterically, her mouth agape.

Though fleeting, he could clearly see that, in this future, her eyelids no longer concealed normal eyes but two crimson tongues, giving the illusion of three gaping maws on her face.

Of course, physical mutations were hardly frightening to the office worker—which made her hysterical shrieks all the more unnatural.

Chu Fu deduced that what truly terrified her wasn’t the tongues replacing her eyes, but something beyond them...

So he cautiously suggested, "Try the other one?"

"Alright, judging by your expression, that might not be the best choice," she conceded readily, shifting her finger to the childhood education ad. "How about this one?"

This time, Chu Fu saw the office worker unharmed, her lips moving slightly. He faintly deciphered her silent words:

*'This is... tailor-made for me...'*

After a moment’s thought, Chu Fu shared his vision with her.

Upon hearing it, the office worker hardly hesitated before selecting the childhood education ad.

Meng Siyou, watching from the sidelines, was surprised. "Do you two know each other? Why do you trust him so much?"

"It’s less about trusting him and more about trusting my own instincts—and my future self. Knowing my personality, if I’d picked an ad with a terrible cost, I wouldn’t be smiling or speaking calmly. I’d be cursing up a storm..."

With that, she pressed the button. Instantly, the lights around them vanished, leaving only the glow of the large screen before them.

Leaning back comfortably, the office worker announced, "Alright, the second advertisement is about to begin. Please observe quietly."

The screen brightened, still in the same child-friendly cartoon style.

Inside a playfully decorated classroom, the cartoon teacher stood before a desk painted in pastel yellow. As she raised her pointer, a peppy children's melody played, like a nursery rhyme.

With a *tap*, the teacher’s pointer struck the desk, and a jet-black cartoon child appeared atop it, bouncing with energy.

At the same time, the child's clear voice chimed in with the rhythm of the nursery rhyme, singing cheerfully:

"Table, table, I'm on the table—"

The teaching rod moved downward as the teacher pointed beneath the chair, and the inky-black child appeared in the narrow space between the four chair legs.

The child's body curled up tightly in a posture that looked uncomfortable, yet the voice remained cheerful, singing happily:

"Chair, chair, I'm under the chair—"

Seeing this, Chu Fu quickly realized that this seemed to be an instructional ad teaching children to recognize objects and words.

It had only just begun, but the clear, childish voice echoing in the dim screening room already carried an uncanny dissonance, making everyone frown in discomfort.

As the ad continued, the inky-black stick-figure child appeared again—this time dangling from the power lines outside the window, its neck caught on the wire, swaying in the wind like a sunshine doll.

Then, it appeared inside a small cardboard box by the podium. The box was far too small, so this time, only the upper half of the black figure remained, like a severed doll placed inside for storage.

Next, it appeared in a potted plant—a dense chlorophytum drawn with a few green strokes—where a jet-black head rested. Yet, despite being reduced to just a head, the child’s cheerful singing never stopped.

From start to finish, it kept singing, its innocent voice keeping time with the nursery rhyme in the background, interspersed with faint, scattered giggles, light and carefree:

"Rope, rope, I'm hanging from the rope—"

"Box, box, I'm stuffed inside the box—"

"Chlorophytum, chlorophytum, my head is stuck on the chlorophytum—"

The salaried worker sitting in the front row abruptly felt something amiss.

The laughter mixed into the singing seemed to grow louder, clearer, and…

closer to her.

Now, the inky-black child seemed to be standing right behind her seat, its freezing little hands wrapping around her neck, its childish voice nearly pressed against her ear, breathing icy gusts as if it had just crawled out of a freezer.

Still radiant with glee, as if whispering a childhood secret with a friend, it whispered:

"Now, I'm..."

"—I’m right behind you!"