Chapter Seventeen: The Killing Game (Part Five)

It was noon, and though they were within a summer villa and the sky was shrouded in rolling clouds, neither Luo Hanya nor Wang Hui could feel the slightest coolness; in fact, a stifling heat pressed upon them, almost unbearable. After only a few steps, beads of sweat dotted their foreheads, as if they were walking under a blazing sun in the height of summer. Yet neither bothered to wipe the drops away, letting them slide slowly down their faces, leaving streaks indistinguishable from the traces of tears.

The flowers were in lush bloom, the leaves a deep, vibrant green—the scenery in the southwest corner of the villa was like a celestial paradise. But Luo Hanya and Wang Hui had no mind to admire these wonders. They searched mechanically, oblivious to the fading of blossoms and the fall of leaves.

They searched in silence, pursuing every possibility, until all possibilities were exhausted and only then did they stop. Yes, they found nothing at all. Luo Hanya let out a soft sigh and ceased his search. He glanced at the girl beside him, noticing how wan and haggard her face had become—her pallor matched her clothes exactly.

“Do you think I’ll live past today?” Wang Hui asked suddenly, her voice distant, as if all hope had deserted her.

Luo Hanya looked at her, feeling a dull ache in his heart. The proud, sunny, beautiful girl from yesterday had vanished like mist. Now she was just a pitiful girl desperate to survive.

“You will! Of course you’ll live through today. Your life has only just begun! You still have to go to college, find a handsome boyfriend, have a lovely child, become a mother, a grandmother…” Luo Hanya rambled on, not really knowing himself what he was saying; he only wanted to comfort this poor girl, to help her find hope again.

Wang Hui listened quietly to his nonsense, tears shimmering in her eyes. Her pale cheeks suddenly flushed red. “No, don’t cry,” Luo Hanya pleaded, “let me tell you a joke, all right?” He couldn’t bear to see a girl cry, but for the moment, he could think of nothing better and blurted out the offer of a joke.

To his surprise, the corners of Wang Hui’s mouth curved into a faint smile. Softly, she said, “Uncle, you’re really kind. I’m all right—just very tired.”

Luo Hanya had been inwardly groaning, and being called “Uncle” again felt strange, but since that was his role in this script, he could only accept it with resignation, however unwilling in his heart.

Luo Hanya did his best to comfort Wang Hui, but when a person knows their life is about to end, how could they listen to anything you say? All he could do was sigh and silently accompany the dispirited Wang Hui back to the villa. He glanced surreptitiously at his watch; it was already close to four o’clock.

When they returned, they found the villa empty—clearly, the others had not yet come back. Luo Hanya and Wang Hui decided not to hurry. Instead, they circled the all-black villa several times, taking in the view of this premier residence.

After a thorough look, Luo Hanya was astonished to discover the entire villa seemed constructed from Black Galaxy marble. As one of the most expensive marbles, the cost for materials alone must have been in the hundreds of millions—never mind the craftsmanship. Luo Hanya couldn’t help but marvel: this was truly how the wealthy lived.

Just as he was lost in awe, Wang Hui nudged him with her arm, her voice tremulous with excitement, as if she had made a great discovery. “Have you noticed something odd? The second and third floors are structured the same way, but there are only four rooms on the second floor, while your third floor has five.”

“Wait—do you mean there might be a hidden room on the second floor?” Luo Hanya caught her implication and spoke with unusual excitement.

“Exactly! Do you think…the large signal transmitter might be hidden in that secret room?” Wang Hui seemed to have grasped hope for survival again—her eyes sparkled, and excitement made her voice shrill.

“It’s possible! Let’s go and check.” Luo Hanya glanced at his watch—it was now four-thirty in the afternoon. Only an hour and a half remained before the final voting deadline; time was slipping away.

As Luo Hanya and Wang Hui uncovered the villa’s secret, elsewhere, Tan Yue and Bloodhand made a significant discovery of their own. In a patch of soft earth, they found footprints and marks from a cane—one footprint deeper on the right, the cane marks to the left.

Clearly, an elderly man with a lame left leg had passed through here—and yesterday, that mysterious old man had been carrying a cane. Tan Yue gave Bloodhand a long look and said in a level tone, “You want the money—I won’t stop you. But let’s save everyone together. What do you say?”

Bloodhand grinned broadly. “Still trying to be a hero? But I like your plan. I’m here for the money anyway!”

Together, Bloodhand and Tan Yue followed the tracks, tracing them all the way outside the villa’s main door, where all signs vanished.

Everything had come full circle, and Tan Yue frowned, lowering his head in thought. Judging from the day’s events, the old man couldn’t have gone far—he was probably watching them through surveillance and voice equipment, savoring their struggles. But where was he hiding? Why did the trail end here? Was this the old man’s trick, a red herring to confuse them? Tan Yue’s mind churned with questions, but there was no one to answer them.

Suddenly, Tan Yue heard a beeping sound. Looking up, he saw Bloodhand had walked a few dozen steps ahead, the noise coming from him. “Isn’t that…the sound of the micro-bomb!” Tan Yue immediately identified the source.

Bloodhand heard it, too, but showed no fear—instead, he turned and sprinted back to the doorway, where the sound finally ceased.

Bloodhand spat on the ground and cursed, “Damn that old bastard! Remember this—what you owe me today, I’ll make you pay back a hundredfold!” But clearly, these were just empty threats to vent his frustration; for now, there was nothing he could do.

Back with Luo Hanya and Wang Hui, as they prepared to search upstairs, Li Xin and Liu Shanshan returned, their faces filled with disappointment—they, too, had found nothing.

Luo Hanya quickly told them of the hidden room and insisted they search for it at once. Li Xin and Liu Shanshan agreed without hesitation.

The four hurried to the second floor. On the left side of the stairs was a single room; further in, a wall of the same Black Galaxy marble. Luo Hanya’s heart sank—there was no way to break through such stone. They could only search for a hidden door. He tapped every inch of the wall, but to his regret, found not a single sign of a secret entrance.