They rarely saw a beauty of this level, so their eyes inevitably revealed a barely contained, greedy desire.
Stepping out to speak up for An Ling was as good as courting death.
The Bald Man standing before them was a murderer in his previous life. When he first arrived here, he gave all the other survivors a harsh warning.
Seeing his target flustered with nowhere to run, the Bald Man immediately reached out to grab her. Just as he was about to succeed and An Ling was preparing to draw her gun, Chen Rui suddenly shouted from the side.
“Stop!”
The Bald Man paused and looked over at the skinny, trembling boy standing nearby, a hint of disdain curling his lips.
“What, trying to play the hero? Or do you want a taste too?”
Bang!
Without warning, he lashed out, kicking Chen Rui and sending him flying several meters, crashing through a few chairs along the way.
“Cough, cough… urgh…”
A wave of agonizing pain surged through his whole body, as if his bones were about to shatter.
The kick had landed squarely on Chen Rui’s stomach. He coughed violently, his churning stomach making him vomit.
“Beauty, your friend can’t protect you. Looks like it’s up to me, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle, heh heh heh.”
The Bald Man reached out again, aiming for An Ling’s collar. In that hair’s breadth moment, a hand suddenly appeared and clamped tightly onto the big man’s wrist. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t move an inch.
The next second, his wrist was forcibly pressed onto the stranger’s shoulder. Then, with a dizzying twist, his vision spun and—bang—his back slammed hard into the floor.
The force was so great that the carpet even sank a bit; the floor tiles beneath had been shattered.
Before he could recover, another kick slammed into his gut, sending his nearly two-hundred-pound frame sliding backwards across the floor.
An Ling stared in surprise at the person who had stepped in: a young man about 1.8 meters tall, dressed in a black tracksuit, looking to be in his early twenties, with short, neatly trimmed hair, a cold expression, yet undeniably handsome.
If An Ling considered herself a flawless goddess, then the man before her was nothing short of a perfect god.
The Bald Man staggered to his feet, eyes turning vicious as he pulled a dagger from his chest—he wanted to kill this guy!
The other survivors, terrified by the scene, quickly backed away, fearing the Bald Man might turn on them next.
“You bastard, you want to die?”
He swung the dagger and charged at the young man, but his seemingly fierce attack was full of openings before his opponent.
The man didn’t advance, but retreated, dodging the slash and slipping inside the big man’s guard, seizing his knife-wielding arm. With a powerful twist, the dagger was instantly wrenched free and clattered to the ground. A quick shift put the Bald Man’s arm in a lock behind his back. The big man tried to grab him with his other hand, but the young man was faster—a swift kick took out his legs, slamming him to the floor again.
A gleaming dagger was stabbed into the ground right in front of the Bald Man’s face. His pupils contracted in terror.
“If there’s a next time—” The young man didn’t finish his sentence, releasing the big man and standing up to leave.
The Bald Man gritted his teeth in rage but didn’t dare make another move. He knew the man was trained, and he was no match for him.
This was a warning.
On the other side, An Ling helped Chen Rui up, patting his back to try to ease his pain.
The young man walked over and handed Chen Rui a bottle of water.
“Thank you,” An Ling said, looking up at him. He had come down from upstairs—he must be the first survivor who arrived here.
“It was nothing. Besides, you could have handled him yourself.” His words left not just An Ling, but even Chen Rui, dumbfounded and looking up at him.
Seeing their confusion, the young man said calmly, “It was your eyes.”
An Ling’s gaze at the time had held fear, yes, but even more so—a touch of determination.
“You even noticed my eyes?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re incredibly observant.”
“It’s a required skill for martial artists. Let’s head upstairs. It’s best not to get involved with them.”
He turned and walked upstairs, clearly not planning to linger here. Around them, the other survivors were looking at him as if he were some kind of monster.
After a few steps, he looked back at An Ling and Chen Rui, signaling them to follow, worried that if he left, they might encounter trouble again.
An Ling glanced at Chen Rui, then supported him as they walked upstairs together.
“By the way, I haven’t asked your name yet. I’m An Ling.” As she caught up, she took the initiative to ask.
“Qin Xiao,” he replied blandly.
“I’m Chen Rui. Thanks for your help…” Chen Rui, for once, spoke up first.
“Mm. You’ve got courage, but it’s best not to do that again.” Qin Xiao commented, and Chen Rui lowered his head without replying.
“The second floor has some entertainment rooms. The third through fifth floors are evenly divided bedrooms—fifty in all, laid out the same, corresponding to the number of Treasure Chests around the Old Tree.”
As they passed the second floor and headed for the third, Qin Xiao explained, making it clear he had already explored the place thoroughly.
“Is that how a normal Estate is arranged?” An Ling asked, a little embarrassed not to know—she’d never been in such a grand Estate before.
“No, this was clearly set up for us survivors.”
The three reached the fourth floor lounge and sat down on the sofas.
At a glance, An Ling saw a corner room arranged like a supermarket, shelves packed with all sorts of packaged food. There was nothing like this on the third floor—no wonder he chose to stay here.
Qin Xiao brought a few bottles of cola to the table, popped one open, and drank as if he were at home.
“Thank you.”
The other two opened colas and drank as well.
The resources in this Estate could hardly be described as abundant—they were practically limitless. Only now did An Ling realize that when the system spoke of plentiful resources, it was referring solely to this Estate.
“By the way, did you encounter any supernatural phenomena when you came here? Like resurrected deer, looping paths, or other survivors?” An Ling suddenly asked Qin Xiao, who shook his head in puzzlement.
“I did see other survivors, but they seemed rather confused and out of it.”
Was she the only one who’d encountered something supernatural?
“Maybe it depends on the number of days,” he added. An Ling remembered—she had been told before that the island’s danger level would rise with each passing day. Then she glanced oddly at Chen Rui.
“But why didn’t he encounter anything? It’s the second day for both of us.”
“Maybe it’s just luck.” Qin Xiao could only offer his guess, not knowing much about it.
“Maybe I’m just lucky…” Chen Rui muttered timidly.
An Ling’s expression grew even stranger.