Where Did Pending Death Go? He's in the Opera!

"Mountain Breaker!"

The Prince roared.

He swung the massive broadsword, unleashing a strike with world-ending momentum. The players had already fought him for several rounds. Every one of them was injured, their faces etched with exhaustion.

Faced with this desperate attack, the players gritted their teeth and scrambled to dodge.

But even so, Qiao Biluo, despite her enhanced physique, was careless for a moment and got grazed by the blade's energy.

Her body, which had once withstood submachine gun fire in other Instances, was now as fragile as paper before the Prince.

With a sickening shua, her arm flew off, gushing blood as it hit the ground.

Her right arm was gone.

Her face grim, she took out a bandage-like item to staunch the bleeding. Frowning, she turned to Xiaoxiao.

"Where's Pending Death? Where the hell did he go?"

At her question, all eyes turned to the little loli. They remembered seeing Pending Death exchange a few words with Xiaoxiao backstage before vanishing.

They had even asked her about it before the performance. At the time, Xiaoxiao had simply said that Pending Death was hiding somewhere he wouldn't provoke the Prince's wrath.

This was the excuse Wu Wang had given Xiaoxiao. He couldn't exactly tell everyone he was skipping the performance entirely. If the other players pressed him, it would interfere with his Human Refining plan.

The excuse was believable enough. For someone who knew they were being targeted, hiding was a natural response.

At first, the others hadn't said anything. They had already guessed the blue-haired executioner's intentions. If he wanted to hide, so be it.

Under normal circumstances, they wouldn't miss one level-ten combatant.

But things were different now. No one had expected the Prince to be this powerful. With one more person, they could have scattered and taken turns, forcing the Prince to waste a few more swings and buying them more time.

They could tell the Prince was acting according to the opera's script. The longer they delayed him, the sooner they could advance to the next scene.

Simply put, they could have used Wu Wang's life to buy themselves chances.

Xiaoxiao's face was also grim. She retorted, "Why do you care where he is? He's a level-ten player. Even if he were here, he couldn't change the situation!"

Qiao Biluo said viciously, "More people means more strength, Xiaoxiao. Don't think I can't tell you know the kid. Are you just worried something will happen to him?"

Xiaoxiao said dismissively, "What's it to you? You should worry about how you're going to reattach your arm."

Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows on the ground. Everyone looked over, startled to see it was the book-boy. As expected, he hadn't died from the earlier attack.

The book-boy looked at Xiaoxiao and suddenly spoke up.

"It actually does have something to do with us. I can't sense his presence. Pending Death might not be in the opera at all!"

His words shocked everyone.

Not just hiding? He isn't even on the stage at all?!

That meant their performance had been missing a person from the very beginning.

We're screwed! Will the Prince hold this against us later? If the number of performers was reduced for no reason, he's bound to get angry!

Qiao Biluo cursed sinisterly.

"Hmph! You little hussy, you're good at spinning lies! If the Prince questions us later, don't blame us for throwing your little lover out to take the fall!"

Xiaoxiao didn't speak, but a hint of worry flashed in her eyes. Although she had only just met Pending Death, he was Yan Shuangying's disciple. And Yan Shuangying had once saved her life, a favor she had never forgotten.

But in this situation, how could she possibly help Pending Death?

While everyone was arguing, a sharp glint flashed in the Prince's eyes. He kicked the Bright Silver Spear up from the ground, performing a spectacular flourish that sent dust swirling.

The fluent and brilliant operatic verse continued.

"Here comes Zhao Zilong of Changshan! Braving Cao's Camp alone to show his skill! Suddenly a woman's voice is heard nearby! He dismounts from his saddle, able to proceed."

He had entered the next stage of the performance. Having found Lady Gan, the Prince was now off to find Lady Mi.

Just then, the dust settled.

Everyone stared, startled to realize there was a figure nestled in the Prince's mountain-like arms. A first glance revealed it was just a marionette, a small thing wrapped in swaddling clothes.

This likely represented the scene after Lady Mi threw herself into a well, when Zhao Yun tucked the infant Ah Dou into his robes before breaking out of the encirclement.

It also meant the Prince's next wave of attacks was imminent.

Everyone immediately stopped bickering, focusing all their attention on the Prince's massive broadsword and Bright Silver Spear.

Meanwhile, in the audience seats and invisible to the players, Wu Wang's breathing grew rapid.

His face was grim as he stared intently at the heroic, peerlessly brave image of Zhao Zilong on stage. He felt a searing heat erupt from his left wrist, as if it was about to burst into flames.

The intense pain sent his nerves screaming. No, it wasn't just physical agony. It was a burning sensation that welled up from his very soul.

It was the remnant soul acting up!

Dammit! Abyss God, give me a reaction!

Are you Senior Ju now? Are you just going to watch as my soul gets whipped and burned by this thing? You live on my right wrist. My body is practically half your home!

Someone's taking a dump in your living room! Aren't you even angry?

Wu Wang cursed inwardly and looked down at his right wrist. He was startled to find the red vertical pupil staring back at him, its gaze full of mockery and amusement.

Dammit! This bastard is enjoying the show!

The troupe leader noticed something was off with him.

"Bai Sha? Why do you look so unwell? Is the opera not to your liking?"

Wu Wang could only force a bitter smile.

"No, not at all. My stomach is just a bit upset. I must have eaten something bad. Please excuse this lowly one while I relieve myself."

He clutched his stomach, stood up, and hurried away, planning to deal with the remnant soul.

But the moment Wu Wang left the audience seats and was out of the troupe leader's sight, the remnant soul on his wrist suddenly flared. Instantly, it dyed his left hand black and white, a bizarre pattern, as if it had been dipped in a vat of paint.

The strange, face-paint-like pattern began to spread up his arm, crawling toward his neck and head.

In the blink of an eye, Wu Wang had transformed into a Big Painted Face.

"...Yu... let us perform on the same stage..."

"...Wake up quickly... Yu..."

Strange, delirious whispers echoed in his ears. In a daze, he felt the environment around him begin to change.

The battlefield on the stage seemed to expand, enveloping him. When Wu Wang opened his eyes again, he was startled to find the six grimy players standing nearby, poised for battle.

His heart skipped a beat.

I'm screwed! I've been dragged into the opera? After all that, I still have to fight the Prince?

Wait a minute…

Why don't I see the Prince?

Wu Wang realized the other players were looking at him strangely.

Shouldn't they be watching the Prince? Why are they all staring at me?

His own position also felt off. He seemed to be floating high above the ground.

Why am I suspended two and a half meters in the air?

Gulp.

Wu Wang swallowed hard. He had a sinking feeling he knew what was happening.

He raised his head to see the Prince's stern face. He could feel the man's hard bicep against the top of his head and the cold, sharp point of the Bright Silver Spear pressed against his throat.

It seems I'm being held in the Prince's arms...

No, that's not right. Before I showed up, the Prince was holding the baby protectively, not like this.

Did I fucking become Ah Dou?

"What scoundrel dares to replace the descendant of my Lord? Present your neck and accept your death!"