Mutual Redemption with the Villainous Boss [Infinite] - Chapter 22

“Is she tired of living?”

That was the only thought remaining in Ye Qingqing’s mind.

Had she not seen Chen Liangyi’s end with her own eyes?

The moment that man answered that question, his head was sliced into two pieces like a watermelon—the inside was red pulp, dripping with juice.

The two scythes still leaned against one side of the court, silent testaments to terror and despair.

Her own weapons were unusable, and Zhu Ci’s fate had finished its rotation. Next, it would be her turn.

No human can face death with such total composure.

Ye Qingqing backed away, looking toward the door they had entered through. The unconscious Duan Jingchuan still lay there.

If she could leave this place, could she escape the execution of the rules?

She kept retreating until she reached the door, using her foot to hook Duan Jingchuan out of the way.

She counted silently in her heart.

Three, two.

One!

She slammed into the seemingly flimsy redwood door.

It didn’t budge.

In her desperation, she ignored the gazes around her and began striking the door frantically, her mouth open in a howling “Ahhh!” Her teammate tried to stop her: “Sister Qingqing, Sister Qingqing…”

But the words were swallowed back down.

You cannot criticize a person driven by the will to survive for any action they take.

To what heights of madness can a person climb when faced with certain death?

Chen Jian, who was more timid, trembled at the sight of the crazed Ye Qingqing. His lips quivered as he asked, “Is there… is there any way out for Zhu Ci?”

No one could answer.

The Crow Judge raised the gavel: “The verdict: The Sparrow is guilty.”

“Execute!”

Zhu Ci spread her arms wide.

The Cuckoo stepped forward, the smile deepening in his eyes. He grabbed her hands, but before he could drag her across the floor, she cooperated and lay down herself.

Cuckoo

“Hurry up, don’t dawdle,” Zhu Ci urged.

“I’ve never seen someone so eager to die.” Cuckoo squatted at the head of her bed, elbows on his knees, hands hanging naturally as he stared down at her.

“A strike to the neck is the same whether you stretch it out or pull it back,” she blinked. “You want to get through the procedure quickly too, right? After all, you all seem to be in quite a hurry.”

“What?”

“I’m saying, you were all too eager to make me the murderer. It lacked logic, and it was boring.”

Cuckoo raised an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes. “Then what do you want?”

Zhu Ci ignored him, turning her head to the side. “Stop chatting. Hurry up. If you don’t keep going, I’m going to fall asleep.”

Arrogant. Utterly arrogant.

Cuckoo was screaming ten thousand curses internally. Let’s see how arrogant you are when the scythe is pressed against your eyeballs.

The Skylark and the Wren stood on either side of her.

The tips of the two scythes pointed directly at her pupils, stopping just short.

Cuckoo began his chant: “O Sparrow, Sparrow, why did you kill the Robin?”

Zhu Ci stared directly at the tips of the scythes with total indifference. She even reached out to touch the blade to test its sharpness.

Silence stretched for a long time.

The Skylark coughed, offering a reminder: “Answer him, Sparrow.”

“Ah, what did you just ask?” she asked, pretending to wake from a dream.

Cuckoo took a deep breath and asked again: “Sparrow, Sparrow, why did you kill the Robin?”

“I couldn’t help it!” Zhu Ci slapped the surface of the scythe, putting on an expression of deep regret. “It’s all my fault!”

“You know, he and I were such good friends. Yesterday, he invited me to his room as a guest, saying he wanted to treat me to some newly bought black tea. You know how it is—a Sparrow can never refuse black tea.”

Her sudden nonsensical babbling left everyone astonished.

Even Yu Jiayi’s eyelid twitched: “What is she saying?”

Ignoring Cuckoo’s bewildered look, she continued volubly: “So I went! It was late at night and I couldn’t see anything. He didn’t have any lights on in his room. Then I heard him saying something… something about being best friends, about owing money and being sorry. I comforted him, saying it was okay, that money can always be earned back as long as you’re alive. Then, he suddenly grabbed my knife—slash—and he went silent.”

“I reached out and felt around, and my hands were covered in blood. I knew then he had slit his own throat. It must be my fault, I must have said something wrong to make him lose hope. So, I killed him. Let me go to heaven to see him… Oh, Robin, I’ve failed you…”

Accompanied by her “ghostly wails and wolf howls” of a performance, Zhu Ci reached out and grabbed Cuckoo’s leg. She used her hidden strength to lock onto him, throwing a tantrum on the floor.

Cuckoo tried to pull his leg away but couldn’t. He clicked his tongue and asked, “Are you saying the Robin owed money and committed suicide with your knife?”

“What do you mean suicide? I killed my best friend! Don’t talk nonsense!” Zhu Ci used both hands now, tugging his leg toward her with all her might.

Cuckoo was pulled further and further forward by her. He lost his balance; his squatting posture was forced into a lunge, one hand hitting the ground as his center of gravity shifted.

Ye Qingqing, distracted by the commotion, stopped her actions and turned around.

The Crow Judge asked: “What exactly happened?”

“Judge, do not believe her!” Cuckoo worried the verdict would be overturned. His smile had completely vanished. “What are you talking about? He’s dead! You killed him! The Kite is the witness, and the blood is the evidence!”

“I didn’t say I didn’t do it! I already said, I’m the one who caused his death!”

Zhu Ci’s voice drowned him out. She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

“Skylark! Wren!” Cuckoo was panicked. The Crow Judge was hesitating, her gavel about to fall. He screamed, “Execute!”

The scythes rose high and fell heavily.

Blood splattered onto the ceiling.

The players stared in disbelief at the scene before them.

The Wren lifted the scythe. The sensation of bone and blood being pulled out brought her back to her senses.

She looked down at the ground.

The person on the floor had their head sliced in two, but they were still twitching. A hand jerked up again and again.

It was a familiar face.

It was Cuckoo.

The gavel crashed down with a roar.

Accompanying the heavy vibration was the casual voice of the female player behind them: “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

“The verdict is erroneous. The trial is reopened.”

Chen Jian’s mouth was hanging so wide it couldn’t close.

He had watched with his own eyes as Zhu Ci, right before the scythes fell, kicked her legs out and dragged Cuckoo directly under the blades.

She had completed a magnificent reversal.

She could have said those words before the verdict to stop the Judge’s gavel, but she chose the most dangerous path.

The most dangerous, yet the most rewarding.

Clearly, those scythes were not restricted by the rules, because Cuckoo only struggled for a few seconds before he stopped moving entirely.

Ye Qingqing’s eyes filled with tears. She saw hope.

She didn’t have to die.

Zhu Ci spoke to the two figures frozen in place: “Didn’t you hear the Judge? The trial is reopening. Go back to your seats.”

Having said that, she turned around and walked back, sitting in the defendant’s seat.

“Any more evidence, Kite?” She crossed her legs and folded her arms, looking even more defiant than before.

The Kite slumped into his seat. Cuckoo’s death was grisly, and he was still shaken.

“You… you…”

For a long time, he couldn’t get a word out past “you.”

The corners of Zhu Ci’s mouth turned up in a faint smile. “Judge, pass the sentence.”

The Crow Judge looked toward the prosecution.

The Kite had nothing to say.

“The verdict: The Sparrow is innocent.”

“Release!”

The blue light barrier dissolved. The three teammates rushed up and surrounded Zhu Ci.

“It’s good that you’re not hurt,” Yu Jiayi said, unable to hide her joy.

“It’s lucky you’re the captain. If it were me, I’d be dead for sure,” Chen Jian said, shaking his compass. Seeing it spin again, he jumped with joy.

Zhu Ci said, “Of course. I promised you.”

She breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Until the moment it was settled, no matter how composed she appeared, she had still been haunted by a lingering fear.

He Fanghui walked around her, sizing her up. “Your strength is quite impressive. I thought you would be weaker, but I didn’t expect you to be able to drag a man much larger than yourself.”

Zhu Ci’s eyes crinkled. It wasn’t that her strength had increased; she had simply distracted him. When she pulled his leg, it was exactly at the moment the scythes were falling and couldn’t be retracted.

Her psychological fortitude had become very strong; she could wait for the perfect opportunity. In the past, she would have lost control of herself long ago.

“But the role-playing…”

“It’s fine. The first verdict already stated I was the killer. My ‘role’ was played to the end.” She had thought it through carefully beforehand.

The prompt only said “role-play,” not “be executed.” The objective should have been met.

Every NPC in the courtroom had departed, and even Cuckoo’s corpse on the ground had turned to ash. Ye Qingqing’s body swayed, and she was caught by a teammate.

“Sister Qingqing,” said the man named Jiang He. “It’s over now.”

Ye Qingqing steadied herself, pushed him away, and walked over. “Miss Zhu, please forgive my ignorance. What is your rank on the leaderboard? I owe you my life this time; otherwise, I would have had no way out.”

“Me? I don’t have a ranking,” Zhu Ci looked up at her, puzzled by the question.

“No ranking?” She was shocked. “Mr. Chen Liangyi was ranked 831st. You are much more powerful than him. How could you not have a ranking?”

“She’ll have a ranking in the future. Our team, Qiming, will have one too—and we’re going to be number one,” Chen Jian snorted proudly, completely forgetting that just minutes ago, he was trembling for his life.

“Qiming…” Ye Qingqing murmured, then nodded solemnly. “I will remember that.”

Throughout the entire ordeal, the mysterious man had stood to the side, his presence ignored by everyone. Now, however, he seemed moved and walked up to Zhu Ci.

“You are relying on luck.”

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer, maintaining a degree of wariness.

“You shouldn’t depend on it. Luck will desert you one day.”

His words left everyone confused. He Fanghui, who hated riddles, asked, “What are you trying to say?”

The man didn’t look at her. Instead, a pair of eyes peered out from under the black hat, staring intently at Zhu Ci.

Zhu Ci was extremely familiar with that voice. She stood up. “You’re mistaken. I never rely on luck.”

“Because I am not lucky.”

The man froze slightly. He seemed to want to say more, but changed his mind. “As you wish. But I will be the one to win.”

It was the same sentence as before.

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned, and his sleeve shimmered.

He summoned a pen.

He made a light stroke against the redwood door.

The door split open automatically, revealing a crack just wide enough for one person to pass through.

Amidst the shocked expressions of the players, he dropped one last sentence before passing through the gap:

“Go to the back door of the courtroom. That is the path to clearing the stage.”

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