A Dangerous Game Begins

Murong Xin'er said seriously, "This round's instance, Cupid's Werewolf, is a special-type scenario. All players cannot use any skills or items, except for prophecy-based abilities."

Ethan frowned.

Special-type scenarios were rare and extremely dangerous. In a game like Werewolf, prophecy skills were incredibly powerful.

If a player with a prophecy skill was on the innocent side, the game was nearly over. Two Seers on the good team? The wolves wouldn't stand a chance.

If a prophecy-type player were a wolf, they would instantly know who held divine roles among the innocents. For werewolves hunting for an advantage, that information was a recipe for disaster.

Some high-level prophecy skills were terrifying. The strongest could reveal four werewolves in just the first round.

The game might end before it even starts.

In short, prophecy players had an advantage in special-type scenarios.

This led to one unsettling thought: if the next Annihilation-class Doomsday was a special-type scenario…

Then the person among all of Blue Star with the best chance of surviving would be Ethan, who held the SSS-rank prophecy skill.

It seemed Ethan reached the same conclusion. He looked up and met Murong Xin'er's gaze. Her eyes trembled slightly, and she looked down, her voice soft.

"Ethan… You have to survive the next Doomsday…"

Her voice shook with emotion.

It was an Annihilation class. Just remembering the helpless fear during Lunar Impact made her feel like she was suffocating. She had no faith in her ability to survive another.

Ethan gave her a faint, bitter smile.

Of course, he would push himself to survive.

What other choice did he have?

Unless the system finally rewarded him with a Revival Token after enduring this frozen hell of a scenario. If not, then the next Annihilation-class event would be a fight against death itself.

There was no going back, only moving forward.

He and Murong Xin'er spent the next hour discussing special-type instances. She shared several past scenarios she had either survived or researched in detail.

The common theme among them all was this: players lost their skills. They couldn't use items. Their status in the real world had no value.

It didn't matter if you were a global tycoon, an A-list celebrity, or a high-ranking government official. In these twisted simulations, everyone faced the same vulnerability.

Take Murong Xin'er herself. In the real world, her position in the Chinese Federation gave her great political power. But inside a special-type instance like Death Train or Cupid's Werewolf, she was just another player, stripped of her abilities and as vulnerable as anyone else.

If the next Doomsday ended up being one of those scenarios…

Then humanity would confront its first Annihilation-class Special Scenario.

What kind of horror would that bring?

Regular Doomsday scenarios were already terrifying beyond reason.

Add in the chaos of a special-type mechanic. It would be hell made real.

Their conversation continued until noon. Then both of their noses twitched at the scent wafting through the apartment.

Ethan stood up. It was time to eat.

There was no point in sitting around discussing how they would all die.

As he stepped out of the room, his eyes automatically flicked to the front door—and paused.

It had been fixed.

He glanced at Lin Yiwan in the kitchen. Did she have a repair-type ability?

But the thought vanished as soon as he saw the lunch spread set out on the table.

Eight dishes and one soup.

Had she prepared all this because of Murong Xin'er's visit?

Every dish looked delicious—rich in aroma and bright in color.

Ethan sat down and began serving himself.

Murong Xin'er joined him at the table, quietly pouring herself a bowl of chicken soup.

He looked at Lin Yiwan, who stood to the side, unsure where to go.

"Come eat with us," Ethan said, motioning for her to join.

Just as she was about to sit down—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The door shook violently. Someone was slamming into it with all their might.

"ETHAN CROSS! YOU SON OF A BITCH! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

It was Liu Zhilin's furious voice.

Ethan frowned and set his chopsticks down. Seriously?

He walked to the door and looked through the peephole.

Five or six male teachers stood outside, all from their academy. Leading them, with his distorted face filling the lens, was none other than Liu Zhilin.

Ethan opened the door with a click.

Liu Zhilin, clearly unprepared, stumbled forward and crashed face-first into the floor.

Ethan looked down at him, a mocking tone in his voice. "Professor Liu, did you trip? Feeling guilty about something?"

Liu Zhilin scrambled up, enraged and ready to unleash all the curses he knew—

But then he saw something over Ethan's shoulder.

Murong Xin'er. Sitting at the table. Drinking soup elegantly.

His jaw dropped. What a beauty.

Years of abusing his position had let him sleep with more than his fair share of students. But this woman… she was different. A step above. A once-in-a-lifetime catch.

Then jealousy twisted his face. Why did Ethan get to have her?

Lin Yiwan already liked him, and now this goddess too?

His greed surged.

Turning to the men behind him, he waved his hand.

"It's way too warm in here. They must have hidden supplies. Search the place!"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "So this is a robbery now?"

"Shut up! I'll take what I want!"

The polished teacher facade was gone. Liu Zhilin's words were crude and full of malice.

With the world in ruins, he felt no need to pretend.

The other men advanced—and like Liu Zhilin, they froze when they saw Murong Xin'er.

Their jaws dropped. Eyes widened. Lust was clear on their faces.

Liu Zhilin shoved Ethan aside and swaggered toward the table. 

"Hey there, sweetheart…"

Drool almost slipped from the corner of his mouth.

Murong Xin'er's brow twitched slightly.

Lin Yiwan quietly stepped back, distancing herself from the rising tension.

Ethan watched in silence. Even he had to admit Liu Zhilin's death wish was truly impressive.