Volume One: Entering the City for the First Time Chapter Fifty-One: A Shocking Truth

Lu Yi opened his eyes groggily and looked around. He found himself lying atop a pile of old newspapers. He remembered accepting Cedric’s secret manual of dark cultivation, and then swallowing a mysterious fruit.

What time was it now? Lu Yi checked his phone—fortunately, it was still the same afternoon. He pushed himself up from the floor, bracing against the newspapers, only to notice that a stack of them was stuck to his hand. But when he shook his hand, he realized the newspapers weren’t sticking to his skin—rather, they clung to the Ring of Fortune.

Name: Ring of Fortune
Quality: Pink
Weight: 0g
Requirements: None
Divinity: This item accumulates fortune through various means, such as accomplishing great feats or defeating formidable enemies, enhancing the wearer’s attributes.
Mark of Fortune: Occasionally brings good luck to the wearer.
Blessing: Can enhance the luck of someone other than the wearer; at the current level, can be used once on an ordinary person.
Description: A ring formed from a thread of externalized fortune, possessing immense potential for growth. At its peak, it can become the Ring of the God of Fate.
Special Note: This item is extremely unique. It cannot be sold, traded, or transferred, nor can it be stolen or copied. If the item is discarded or the wearer dies, it will be destroyed.
The color pink signifies a set item. While it can be combined with other fortune or fate items for set bonuses, it can also be paired with other items that can grow to include the “God” attribute. For example, the Bracer of Valor can evolve into the War God’s Bracer; if the wearer possesses both, a set ability will be activated.

This scene left Lu Yi somewhat stunned. The Ring of Fortune had manifested on its own, which meant it had just worked its magic. But what exactly had it done?

Just then, the other pages of the newspaper scattered to the floor, and one sheet happened to land squarely on top.

It was an obituary. The person pictured gave Lu Yi a strange sense of familiarity.

He stared at the face, wracking his memory.

“Hey, man, you’re being too loud,” the man had once said behind him on the bus. That was it—he was the one who had sat behind Lu Yi.

Lu Yi checked the date. The man had died just yesterday morning. The realization froze Lu Yi to the core, as if he had fallen into an icy pit.

To confirm his suspicion, Lu Yi quickly pulled some strings to check where the man had died. News came back swiftly: the man had passed away in a hospital in Anvalo City, the cause being sudden cardiac arrest.

But something didn’t add up. In the “Final Destination” scenario, this man survived the original accident, so he should also have been targeted by death itself.

During the gathering at Lu Yi’s house yesterday, Xie Ruidai had said that five people had died. Based on the sequence, the victims should have been Tang Qi and another local, Deng Zhi, a third local who got off the bus with Lu Yi and the others, that local, and Yang Miao.

Yet, Xie Ruidai publicly claimed only five people died. Lu Yi, his hands trembling, dialed Xie Ruidai anyway—he could no longer worry about difficulty or danger. If his guess was true, it was too horrific to ignore.

After a brief exchange, Lu Yi put down the phone. He had been wrong from the very start. They’d assumed that those who stayed on the bus were doomed, but as Lu Yi flipped through the newspapers again, he realized that more people had survived the accident—people not just the man behind him. And whether those survivors lived or died, none appeared in Xie Ruidai’s predictions.

Yet, the dangers Xie Ruidai predicted did come to pass. What did this mean? It meant that the people Xie Ruidai knew, he could predict their crises—and those crises would befall them. But the survivors he didn’t know about never appeared in his visions.

Put simply: among the survivors, those known to Xie Ruidai would be targeted by death, while those unknown to him would not. So what exactly was Xie Ruidai? This was a perfectly constructed trap.

A sudden, mournful wail of wind rose from nowhere, shaking the entire building.

After a while, Cedric pushed the door open and entered. “Awake? You don’t look so well.”

Lu Yi said nothing. How could he be in good spirits, having just confirmed such a dreadful truth?

“The thing that was after you just came by,” Cedric said, swirling the wine in his glass. “It broke through several of my wards but ultimately couldn’t get into my house. Consider that a bonus for the other rewards you brought me—I won’t charge you extra.”

Lu Yi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He could laugh because he had guessed correctly; the entity known as death had reacted immediately to his actions. He could cry because Cedric’s intervention had come at his expense, which meant the next attack would only be more difficult.

Lu Yi stretched and found his physical abilities had improved yet again. Sensing the energy within, he looked at Cedric. “How far am I from Helian Xun now?”

Cedric smirked, “Worlds apart. You’ve only just set foot on the path. That thing that was after you—its strength would have posed some trouble for Helian Xun, but ultimately, it couldn’t have harmed him. For you, though, it means certain death.”

Lu Yi’s face darkened at Cedric’s assessment.

“But don’t worry,” Cedric said, sipping his wine. “As long as you’re here, nothing can get to you… apart from those strange bones, of course,” he added, recalling the events in the secret place.

Had this been the night at Shanel, Lu Yi might have agreed without hesitation. But now, with a clearer understanding of the mission’s intricacies, he realized that relying solely on the strength of the locals would eventually fail—the enemy would break through the defenses sooner or later. Since there was no time to grow strong enough to resist, he had to seek another path.

According to Fang Hao’s theory, this mission wasn’t limited to a single solution. Facing the threat head-on was the most straightforward and obvious way, but the City was designed to stimulate the talents of those undergoing these trials. If someone awakened a talent that couldn’t be quickly put to use, and had no other support, were they doomed? Fang Hao didn’t think so.

Now, Lu Yi agreed. The mission was to survive for 168 hours. Nowhere did the City specify under what kind of attack. What if Lu Yi hadn’t left the bus—would he have survived, just like the man behind him? It was possible, especially since the City had given specific instructions on assigned seats; perhaps those seats protected the participants from death.

If this theory held, then the participants would be “dead” in Xie Ruidai’s mind, and thus not targeted by death itself. Could they simply survive the mission in peace? Clearly not. Lu Yi suspected that if he chose that path, he would face a different storyline altogether.

What mattered most now was confirming how to enter that alternate mission line—and the clues he needed were in these newspapers. Lu Yi smiled, remembering how he’d once questioned Fang Hao’s obsession with trivial details. Now it seemed those very details might save his life.

“Thank you for your kindness, but this is my crisis—I have to face it myself.” With a plan forming, Lu Yi declined Cedric’s protection openly.

“Well said.” Cedric praised Lu Yi’s resolve, but then his tone turned cold. “But don’t forget: it’s not like me or Helian Ying—it won’t let you go just because you offer it something, or wager your life. If you walk out of here, you may not see the dawn. Are you sure you want to leave?”

“I’m sure. And I’ll survive,” Lu Yi replied resolutely. “These newspapers might be useful to me. I’ll be taking them.” With Cedric’s permission, Lu Yi gathered up the papers and left his house.