Chapter 6

As the danger erupted unexpectedly, Qi Leren didn’t hesitate. He roared, “Run!”

 

Qi Leren bolted instantly. Only then did Dr. Lu snap out of his daze, letting out a series of panicked screams as he stumbled around and turned to flee. Both men completely forgot they were armed, their minds overwhelmed by primal terror, driven solely by the instinct to escape.

 

Dr. Lu, a grown man who looked younger than his age, possessed athletic skills that undoubtedly belonged in the “atrocious” category. In his panicked haste, he tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor, stars exploding behind his eyes. Just as he resigned himself to certain death, a figure sprinted past him without even glancing his way!

 

Dr. Lu lay paralyzed on the floor, watching the Killer, chainsaw in hand, chase Qi Leren down the corridor until they vanished from sight.

 

Had he inexplicably escaped death?

 

Meanwhile, Qi Leren faced the most dire survival crisis of his life. The Killer’s speed was terrifying, the gap between them shrinking with each thunderous stride. Yet as the relentless footsteps closed in, Qi Leren’s mind grew strangely calm.

 

*How can I survive against a cold-blooded killer who slaughters without mercy? What advantage do I have…?*

 

Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck him: the SL Great Art!

 

The emergency exit was just ahead, and less than ten meters away stood a partially open office. Using his mental powers, Qi Leren set a save point at the office doorway—to him, it appeared as a semi-transparent totem. He completed this action without breaking stride, then abruptly turned right and dashed into the emergency exit.

 

<i>SL Skill Countdown:</i>

 

<i>Nine seconds.</i>

 

Qi Leren slammed on the brakes, steadying himself.

 

<i>Eight seconds.</i>

 

He drew his crowbar and gripped it tightly.

 

<i>Seven seconds.</i>

 

The Killer’s footsteps echoed outside the emergency exit.

 

<i>Six seconds.</i>

 

Qi Leren shouted and swung the crowbar downward, tripping the Killer.

 

<i>Five seconds.</i>

 

The Killer lurched forward, his roaring chainsaw tearing into Qi Leren’s right arm. The crowbar clattered to the floor.

 

<i>Four seconds.</i>

 

Qi Leren collapsed to the ground, his severed arm spurting crimson. Agony burned through his bones.

 

<i>Three seconds.</i>

 

Writhing in agony, Qi Leren struggled to sit up. In this desperate moment, his survival instinct surged to life!

 

<i>Two seconds.</i>

 

Still kneeling, the Killer braced himself on one knee, his face twisted in a demonic grin as he swung the chainsaw downward.

 

<i>One second.</i>

 

Qi Leren craned his neck upward, meeting the attack head-on—

 

In his final instant, pain vanished. He saw only a fountain of dark red blood erupting from his severed carotid artery. The Killer’s grotesque face, inches away, was drenched in his scalding blood, transformed into a demonic mask, a Shura reborn.

 

<i>Fatal injury sustained within ten seconds. Save point successfully loaded.</i>

 

Qi Leren lost consciousness.

 

The moment felt both fleeting and endless. When Qi Leren regained his senses, the visceral terror of the chainsaw ripping through his throat, the spray of blood, and the sheer horror of the scene remained vividly etched in his mind. Even though his right arm was perfectly intact after reloading his save, it throbbed with phantom pain. There was no blood, and his sleeve was undamaged. He stood numbly before the partially open office door, the killer lurking just around the corner of the emergency exit, less than ten meters away in a straight line.

 

He wondered if his corpse still lay where he had fallen, or if it had vanished automatically, reverting to the state he had been in ten seconds before the save.

 

If it was the latter… his danger was far from over.

 

The killer’s footsteps echoed in the emergency exit. Without hesitation, Qi Leren shoved open the half-closed door and darted into the office. It was too late to turn and run; not only would the killer easily hear his footsteps, but the narrow, dead-end corridor offered no escape.

 

But the moment Qi Leren pushed open the office door, he couldn’t describe how deeply he regretted it. The seemingly ordinary door let out a faint creak as it swung open—a sound barely audible, yet deafening in the oppressive silence. He didn’t dare imagine whether the Killer lurking in the nearby emergency exit had heard it.

 

Qi Leren was filled with remorse.

 

The scene bore an eerie resemblance to when he had cowered beneath the reception desk, desperately praying the Killer wouldn’t discover him. The similarity sent a chill down his spine, a premonition of doom.

 

The small office contained only two desks and a wardrobe. Qi Leren glanced around before cautiously opening the wardrobe door. Inside, the space was surprisingly empty, large enough for an adult to hide. He scrambled inside.

 

The closed wardrobe doors plunged him into darkness, but a narrow gap remained between them, allowing a sliver of light to filter through. It was too thin to see clearly outside, but he could vaguely perceive the light. He could hear his own ragged breathing and pounding heartbeat, still reeling from fear.

 

The countdown for his SL skill had reached zero. It was too late to reload his save. Although the checkpoint could be used three times consecutively, it would expire if he survived longer than ten seconds after activating it.

 

He could no longer rely on reloading.

 

Now, all he could do was pray.

 

Dull footsteps echoed outside the corridor, accompanied by the metallic scrape of what sounded like a deactivated chainsaw dragging across the floor. The killer moved slowly, as if burdened by confusion and hesitation.

 

*Hurry, get away!* Qi Leren involuntarily clenched his fists, desperately praying the killer would move on.

 

But as always, the worst possible outcome materialized.

 

The footsteps stopped!

 

Qi Leren’s heart nearly stopped too. He froze, listening in stunned silence as the office door creaked open. In that moment, a hazy answer to his earlier question surfaced: *Yes, the killer had heard the door open.*

 

The footsteps remained slow, the chainsaw’s teeth scraping carelessly against the floor with a grating screech. Qi Leren’s pupils constricted with terror, the vivid memories of his recent deaths flooding back.

 

He remembered the excruciating pain of his arm being severed, the chilling sound of the chainsaw as he desperately lunged toward it. He had almost watched his own neck collide with the whirling blades, then, amidst the crimson haze, the pain had become insignificant. What lingered most vividly was the stench of impending death.

 

A grotesque, putrid odor, like rotting iron.

 

Though it had lasted only seconds, the entire sequence seemed to unfold in slow motion, captured by his eyes and seared into his brain, now resurfacing as a shuddering memory.

 

Once again, he smelled the breath of death.

 

The footsteps stopped again, right outside the closet.

 

Qi Leren had forgotten to breathe, his heart pounding like a war drum. He clearly saw the sliver of light between the closet doors vanish, replaced by a deathly shadow—the Killer stood just outside, separated from him only by a thin wooden panel!

 

He could almost picture the man’s eyes: twisted, brutal, bloodthirsty, gleaming with the excitement of a predator who had scented its prey, yet still tinged with doubt. His sudden disappearance defied all logic, transcending the bounds of science.

 

*Vzzzzt!* The chainsaw roared back to life, and Qi Leren finally abandoned all hope. He was destined to die here. Either his throat would be ripped open again, or worse, he’d be bisected at the waist like the corpse outside the infusion room. The latter was a fate more agonizing than a severed throat—a slow, excruciating death where his intestines would spill out one by one as he writhed in agony, desperately crawling for life until his final breath.

 

The gruesome images of his impending death tortured his mind. A moment longer, and his sanity might have shattered completely. But fate, in its capricious way, intervened. Just as the killer was about to strike, a bloodcurdling scream erupted from the nearby stairwell: “Aaaaaah! A ghost!”

 

The Killer threw open the office door and charged out, his footsteps and the chainsaw’s whine receding into the distance. Qi Leren remained frozen in the closet, stunned, until another, even more horrifying scream echoed from the stairwell. He immediately flung open the closet door and stumbled down the corridor in the opposite direction.

 

The screams grew fainter, either because the killer was moving further away or because they were growing too weak to carry. They faded into the distance until they were barely audible.