Looking at the rather aggressive Yang Qi, Wendy quickly tried to smooth things over: "Hey, don't push him so hard, and what does this have to do with us?"
Yang Qi took a deep breath to calm himself, then slowly said, "Of course it matters. I looked closely at previous cases and found that people who can see or sense the signs always manage to save some folks and become the center figure of those survivors. In our group, Bill is just an ordinary member. But in the circle of secondary survivors, Bill is the central figure who triggers everything, and that group has its own order, which is actually a huge advantage."
Julie asked in confusion, "How does that help us?"
Feminister seemed to get it and exclaimed, "This helps us figure out the order of attacks! Our biggest problem now is, for some reason, we don’t know who Death will target next, so it’s hard for us to act. But if everyone is also in another group with a clear order—the secondary loop—then we can more or less guess our own chances of being attacked!"
The boy named Bartrey also understood, and explained to those still confused: "So, for example, if Bill knows he definitely won’t die before another guy dies, then he knows his time isn’t up yet. And if we know no one will be attacked before Bill, then until that secondary survivor is attacked, everyone else is safe! That way, everyone will protect that person like they’re protecting themselves, and can act boldly! Even though we don’t know our own order, by analogy, we can build third-level, fourth-level, and even more levels of survivors. With so many survivors helping each other, our chances against Death go way up!"
As soon as Bartrey finished his analysis, everyone looked at each other and their faces relaxed a bit. But only one person's face got even worse: "Are you saying, if my little buddy dies, then I’m definitely next?" Bill stood up, his face full of despair and a bit of madness. "I don’t believe it, this is all fake, I don’t believe it!"
Kevin immediately got up: "Calm down, man, nobody knows who’s next, nobody said you’re definitely going to die. What we need to do is stick together and make it through."
"No, I want to go home, I want to go home right now!" Bill shoved open the door and stumbled out. "You’re all just talking nonsense, there’s no such thing as Death! I’m going back to my normal life!"
Kevin was about to chase after him, but Yang Qi grabbed him. "Enough, don’t lose your cool over one guy." Yang Qi frowned, annoyed. "We’re not his babysitters. We can help him once or twice, but we can’t keep doing it forever. If he refuses to accept reality and insists on getting himself killed, then that’s the path he chose."
Feminister quickly tried to persuade him: "Don’t give up yet, handsome, we’ve only pulled him back once—he’s still got a second chance! Besides," the literary lady leaned in, whispering in Yang Qi’s ear, "he’s not totally useless. I’m thinking, if Death wants to attack someone, but that person is in an environment where Death can’t do anything—like a place where accidental death is impossible—what will Death do? Skip him and go for the next, or stubbornly look for opportunities nearby? If it’s the second, then everyone else can do whatever they want, right? We could lock up someone uncooperative and test this theory."
Yang Qi raised an eyebrow at Feminister’s words and looked at her. There was a classic schemer’s glint in Feminister’s eyes, half-smiling at him. Yang Qi nodded, "In a way, what you said makes a lot of sense."
"In what way?"
"You reminded me that we can create an environment where 'accidental death' is impossible." Feminister’s words sent a jolt through Yang Qi’s mind—he suddenly remembered the next rule in the Survival Guide.
Survival Guide Rule Five: Death isn’t all-powerful. In some environments, it can work wonders, but in others, it’s totally stumped—like, say, an empty room.
"Alright, I’ll go get Bill back." Yang Qi stood up and headed outside. "Feminister and I have already been attacked, so until the next round, we’re safe. I’ll go after Bill, and you all stay here. Feminister, let me borrow your phone. If anything happens, call me."
Yang Qi left. The rest gathered in the villa’s living room, not saying much. None of them really knew each other—if not for the subway incident, they might never have met. As the host, Feminister broke the silence first: "Anyone want to watch a movie? I’ve got a big DVD collection—these movies always give me new inspiration."
The always-silent Tilia finally spoke up: "Better not. I’m afraid the TV might short out and start a fire or something."
"Alright," Feminister shrugged. "So, does anyone want to just check out my DVD collection? I’ve got some gems I hardly ever let myself watch."
Wendy let out a breath, realizing being suspicious all the time wasn’t helping. She stood up: "Okay, I’ll go check out your collection."
Meanwhile, Yang Qi walked out the villa’s front door. Bill had come on a motorcycle, and he left on it too—you could still see his figure in the distance. Yang Qi shook his head and was about to find a car when his ears twitched; he heard engines roaring. Looking back, he saw two speeding cars racing down the street from the other side.
The first vehicle was a motorcycle, its helmeted rider accelerating full throttle. Chasing close behind was a sedan, clearly in hot pursuit of the biker. The motorcyclist weaved skillfully to dodge obstacles, causing the car to crash into things along the roadside. The two vehicles sped straight toward Yang Qi.
Yang Qi narrowed his eyes: "According to Death’s attack pattern, I shouldn’t be involved this round. But for some reason, it feels like these two vehicles are coming right for me."
Just as Yang Qi was thinking this, the car was lured by the biker into crashing into the roadside guardrail. The rail snapped and scattered, and a metal rod suddenly jammed into the front wheel hub. Screech—a sharp grinding sound—the car instantly skidded, spinning sideways in a flash.
In the next instant, the wildly speeding car flipped over, clattering and rolling like a giant iron cylinder, barreling toward Yang Qi at over ninety kilometers per hour.
Yang Qi bent down and dropped to the ground.
Just like Neo in The Matrix, Yang Qi suddenly arched his upper body back in a split second, narrowly dodging into the gap between the car and the ground. Right in front of Yang Qi’s nose, inside the twisted, mangled car, the terrified driver instinctively made eye contact with him. Yang Qi could even smell the pungent gasoline and see the sparking electricity.
Gasoline? Sparks?
In a blink, the car shot over Yang Qi’s head and crashed into the villa’s outer wall four meters behind him. Boom—a deafening blast—the gas tank exploded, sending flaming debris flying at Yang Qi’s back. And at that moment, Yang Qi’s back hadn’t even touched the ground yet!
Midair, Yang Qi twisted his feet and forced his body to turn, facing the ground. Two small metal shards spun toward him, followed by twisted, sharp chunks of metal. In a flash, Yang Qi planted his hand on the ground, channeling power from his waist down his limbs—then pushed off!
Whoosh—Yang Qi flew backward, minimizing his exposed area to absorb the blast’s impact. He spun his shoulders and body, letting tiny fragments graze past him. A door panel came flying—Yang Qi slapped the side of it. His palm barely touched the panel, just enough to keep its momentum from hurting his wrist. After three quick slaps, the panel lost all its energy, and Yang Qi grabbed it as a shield.
Crash! Bits of iron clanged against the door panel, some even piercing through to show sharp tips on the other side, but none broke through the defense. Yang Qi landed safely, tossed the panel aside with a thud, and stared solemnly at the wreckage. The attack was sudden and totally outside the usual pattern. The round hadn’t even finished—why was he being targeted again?
"Hey man, you’re amazing!" A voice interrupted Yang Qi’s thoughts. He turned and saw the biker taking off his helmet, revealing a thick head of hair—it was Cool B, the black guy with the explosive afro. "I remember you, you were on the subway! What was that just now—Chinese kung fu?"
Just then, Yang Qi’s pocket phone rang—it was Feminister’s.
"Hello, Yang Qi? It’s Wendy! I saw a sign—the next one to be attacked really is Bill!"