Cat 262: Lord Jiu in the Ring of Fire

Chapter 262: Ninth Master in the Ring of Fire

[Want to Be Human] Livestream Chatroom:

“Aiya, I’m scared! Ever since Ninth Master showed up in this dungeon, I haven’t worried about the little cat at all, but now, seeing him suddenly act alone is making me nervous again.”

“Same here, same here! Am I just lovesick or something?”

“Who isn’t?”

“This is my favorite kind of plot—I just want to see the little cat out there on his own, watching him solve the puzzles! It hasn’t even been that long, and he’s already close to uncovering the truth.”

“Good thing I switched to the third-person view and just barely saw what the black-robed woman looks like!”

“I couldn’t see her from the first-person view, can someone tell me? Has the cat seen her before?”

“He has. I suspect he’s already guessed, but he still needs to confirm it.”

“Aaaah, I’m so anxious—just tell me who that woman is already!”

Darkness in the passageway didn’t trouble Yan Jiyun at all.

The first time the black-robed woman left, she closed the door, and there was no sound from inside, making it rather difficult for him to track her. But this time was different; she’d tried to cover up the fact that she killed Cheng Shen. The arrow reeked with the heavy smell of fire oil—following that scent, he could track her movements.

Yan Jiyun pursued her while checking his tools. Though he’d brought them along, he hadn’t used any yet, but he might need them in case of emergency.

Behind the hidden door was a wide corridor, its destination unknown. The black-robed woman must have discovered that Cheng Shen was revealing information about her—she must know a shortcut here.

Yan Jiyun slowed his pace to match hers. The fire oil stench was strong; he wasn’t worried about losing her trail.

For her to vanish so quickly, the room she’d disappeared into couldn’t be far.

Sure enough, after he’d counted nearly a hundred steps, the smell of fire oil abruptly stopped. Yet all around him was just wall—no sign of an apparent exit. It resembled the trap he’d rolled down earlier: once inside, the passage closed tightly behind.

If the black-robed woman could disappear so quickly in this corridor, there must be a door leading directly out.

Yan Jiyun took out the flashlight from his equipment, its cooldown finally over. He shone it carefully over the walls—up, down, left, right. Before long, he noticed something amiss, thanks to his sharp perception. About a meter away was a cleaner stone, jutting out slightly. He walked over and pressed it.

With a click, the stone door before him rotated open. The fire oil smell wafted out—there was no mistake; this was where she’d gone.

He had no fear of being trapped, and once more, he plunged in without hesitation.

The instant he entered, a fire arrow shot toward him—he dodged it with ease. If he was right, he was a paper person too—if a fire arrow struck him, he’d ignite, with no chance to ever leave the game.

The woman had only one fire arrow, and she had to light each arrow individually before firing. Yan Jiyun had pursued her too closely for her to prepare a second one!

Seeing this, Yan Jiyun leapt up and kicked the fire oil out of her hands. It spilled across the floor.

The woman cursed, spun around, and ran for the stairs. Yan Jiyun snatched the arrow she’d dropped and gave chase.

The stairwell was as long as the one he’d fallen down earlier. The woman was no match for him in speed—he caught up in no time. He saw her open a mechanism-door, and just before it closed, he slipped through as well. After passing through a long corridor, he reached a wooden door glowing with faint light. He heard the creak as it was pushed open.

The black-robed woman had gone outside!

Yan Jiyun pushed open the door as well, only to find himself on a bustling street—not at the Cheng estate.

Though he’d been right on her heels, as soon as she exited the wooden door, she had vanished—completely subsumed into the flow of passersby.

On a street corner, Yan Jiyun spotted the black robe she had discarded in a garbage bin. He tossed his own in too—it would be far too conspicuous to wear one here.

Locals bustled along the busy street, but not a single footstep could be heard. The townsfolk blocked Yan Jiyun’s path wherever he turned, but the real wind among them carried the faint scent of fire oil from the woman’s robe right to his nose.

He knew then: she was near, not far at all.

She had successfully blended into the crowd, and their obstruction meant this Master Zuo was truly skilled—able to control the paper people through some kind of spell.

He recalled that the underground walk hadn’t actually been that long, and the Cheng estate was some distance from this lively commercial street—how had he wound up here after just one spin through the passage? Ahead lay Central Street, and even the central hospital was visible.

How was this possible?

Wasn’t this a real town?

Did the paper people somehow possess the ability to shrink distances? Perhaps so—this dungeon’s setting didn’t care for logic, and with the existence of paper people, there might be other peculiar rules. But there was no time to ponder it now—catching the woman was the priority.

Yan Jiyun pressed on.

At that moment, on the street, he caught sight of Gu Wenzhu and He Yuanle. Both were frantically blinking at him, then made a gesture of zipping their lips. The next instant, they were swept aside by a surge of people—pushed along away from him by the current.

What was happening?

Yan Jiyun followed cautiously, not daring to act rashly. Was this another spell of the black-robed woman?

He quickly checked the number of remaining players; the count was steadily dropping!

[Active Players: 86]

[Active Players: 80]

[Active Players: 75]

[Active Players: 69]

[Active Players: 60]

And still dropping!

In the blink of an eye, so many had died!

What had the black-robed woman done?

Recalling Gu Wenzhu and He Yuanle’s frantic gesturing and lip-zipping—was that a warning to keep silent? Had they learned something crucial?

But he was about to catch up to her—if he missed this chance, tracking her later would be much harder.

Yan Jiyun chose to continue; he never stopped keeping her in sight. That heavy fire oil scent wasn’t going to vanish in an instant.

Gu Wenzhu and He Yuanle were swept by the throng into the Jiangnan City’s premier dance hall, the black-robed woman slipping in and disappearing under their cover as well.

He knew this dance hall well.

Pity Ninth Master wasn’t here, or he might just have borrowed his intimidation once again.

The black-robed woman went upstairs, and Yan Jiyun followed. Just as he was about to set foot on the second floor, the stairs suddenly separated from the building!

Had he taken another step, he would have plunged from the second floor. Quickly, he grabbed the banister for support.

Now he understood: the buildings in Jiangnan town could shift and move—this wasn’t some shrinking of space, but that the Cheng estate itself had been relocated. That was how the black-robed woman had so smoothly exited!

This entire town and its paper people were illusory—perhaps the whole of Jiangnan was made of paper!

How had the town sustained itself all this time? Array magic? Something else?

Why had Gu Wenzhu and He Yuanle insisted he remain silent?

Seeing the stairs about to collapse, Yan Jiyun took a step back and jumped to the second-floor landing from a crack. His body was light—he landed gracefully. But there was no sign of the woman on the second floor.

Yet the scent of fire oil remained—the air was thick with it. The second floor was deserted, with no crowding NPCs.

The entire dance hall was utterly silent, yet seemed packed with people—as though a pantomime was playing out. The effect was unsettling.

The smell of fire oil wouldn’t linger much longer—he needed to find the woman before it vanished.

Why was she manipulating all of this?

He also remembered: that time during Ninth Master’s meeting, there’d been an explosion. Was it her doing, too?

The woman had gone up the next staircase to the third floor, and Yan Jiyun gave chase—only to find his path blocked by an unsurprising yet unexpected person.

“Well, well, isn’t this Ninth Master’s new little assistant? What are you doing here?”

Yan Jiyun wasn’t surprised by Liu Rongzhi’s appearance—what caught him off guard was her new look. She was no longer the alluring, bewitching, number-one songstress beloved by countless men at the dance hall. Now, what stood before him was a paper woman, drawn with bright red lipstick, rouged cheeks, and a permed bob atop her cheongsam.

“Miss, whoever painted you must have really lacked skill—this is terribly crude work.” Yan Jiyun eyed her paper form, enunciating each word, “You. Are. Ugly.”

Liu Rongzhi’s face, painted with two spots of blush, twisted with rage. Swinging her stiff, paper limbs, she struck at his face.

Yan Jiyun stepped back to avoid her, kicked her in the stomach, and, adding fuel to the fire, said, “Turned back into a paper doll, and now you’re clumsier too? Let me guess why that is.”

Liu Rongzhi snapped, “I am not a paper person—I’m human!”

“No, you’re a paper person, and a puppet to that woman. Let me guess again—she uses your dance hall to gather valuable information, then arranges for those people’s souls to die in a seemingly normal way, without arousing the town’s paper people’s suspicion. Do you know why she’d do that?”

Unable to argue, Liu Rongzhi, though furious, couldn’t help but rattle, “Why?”

Yan Jiyun replied, “Because—” Just as he was about to answer, another fire arrow shot at him. This time, he was prepared, and with a paper person conveniently in front of him as a shield, the arrow grazed his shoulder and struck the wall behind.

He had his answer—the closer he got to the truth, the more anxious the black-robed woman grew about the paper NPCs learning it.

At that moment, the tiled wall burst into flames—the dance hall filling quickly with smoke. This fire oil must have been specially made by the woman.

Liu Rongzhi, too, was startled by her. Yan Jiyun shoved her aside and ran up the stairs in pursuit. The woman had entered a room and hadn’t closed the door.

As Yan Jiyun rushed in, he saw her standing on the windowsill, pouring fire oil onto the floor. Striking a match, she tossed it down—the floor of the room erupted into a ring of fire. Seated at its center were Ninth Master, Liu Jingxi, and Cheng Xueying.

At this point, there was no time to wonder how they’d gotten there!

Yan Jiyun’s heart seized in panic. “I’ll get you out of there!”

But Ninth Master shook his head, perfectly calm. “Go now. Once this place is burning, no one will make it out alive.”

Yan Jiyun watched the black-robed woman vault over the balcony, then glanced at the ring of fire closing in on Ninth Master. He cursed, “Damn it. Taking hostages now? Why not face me yourself! See if I don’t tear your paper hide to shreds!”