Chapter 23: The Game Starts with a Deadlock

The blood in Lin Kuo’s body froze instantly, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.

In fact, when he was cutting vegetables earlier, he’d already considered the possibility of the evil god’s power.
Since it was a god, transforming into someone close to him would be a simple matter.

But Lin Zhi was too similar. Her expression, her tone—everything was exactly as he remembered.
So when Lin Zhi said this, Lin Kuo still felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

His heart pounded violently in his chest.
He forced himself to stay calm and not show any trace of panic, but his tongue felt frozen in his mouth.
He didn’t speak, just stared at Lin Zhi with a cold gaze.

Lin Zhi laughed, and now her smile no longer looked human.
Looking at her, Lin Kuo couldn’t help but think of that alien protagonist from a certain blockbuster movie—Venom.

Her mouth stretched to cover more than half her face, each tooth as sharp as a spike.
As she spoke, a lizard-like tongue occasionally flicked out, trailing sticky saliva.

“Bro, it’s in your jacket, right? You let me find it so fast…”

As she spoke, Lin Zhi reached out to feel around one of his jacket pockets.
After coming up empty, she switched to the other pocket and pulled out Lin Kuo’s phone.

Lin Kuo’s face remained expressionless.

Lin Zhi casually tossed the phone aside and groped through the pockets again—but this time, she found nothing.

She looked up.
“Bro? Where’s the death code? Where is it?”

Seeing Lin Kuo still silent, Lin Zhi’s voice grew anxious.

“Come on, hurry up and tell me! I’ll keep it safe for you! I promise I won’t let the evil god find it.”

Lin Kuo pondered for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I may be easy to fool, but not to the point of still believing you now.”

Maybe he felt the insult wasn’t quite enough, so he added, “There’s a mirror in the bathroom.”

‘Go take a look at yourself.
Then decide if you still want to keep trying to trick me, okay?!’

Lin Zhi pouted. “I’m just too excited, okay? I get like this when I’m excited! Bro, where’s the death code? Where did you hide it? Where did you hide it?!”

Though her tone still couldn’t hide her excitement, at least she retracted her terrifying face and switched back to human form.
Apparently, she thought that as long as she looked normal again, she could still fool him.

Lin Kuo stared at this ‘Lin Zhi’ suspiciously.
For a moment, he couldn’t tell if the evil god’s IQ was too low, or if it thought his IQ was too low.

Either way, Lin Kuo had no interest in continuing the conversation.
He simply tore off the last layer of pretense.

“From the start, I never believed you.”

Lin Zhi froze for a moment, then lowered her eyelids, putting on a hurt expression.

“…Big brother…”

In his memory, Lin Zhi either called him by his full name, Lin Kuo, or just a single ‘Bro.’
She only ever used ‘Big brother’ when she’d done something wrong or wanted to ask for a favor.

This particular ‘Big brother’ somehow made Lin Kuo think of Sweet as the Wind, and of the debt he still owed.

Lin Zhi squeezed out a few tears.
“Why are you talking like that? That’s really hurtful, you know!”

Lin Kuo’s tone grew even colder.

“You play your part well—in every way.
Unfortunately, you’re not human. You don’t understand how emotions actually work.”

When she first saw her long-lost brother, Lin Zhi’s worry, her anxiety, and her joy had all seemed natural.
When Lin Kuo told a clumsy lie, her speechlessness afterward, and then her excitement over him cooking—that all seemed natural too.

If these emotional shifts were isolated events, Lin Kuo couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t still be hesitating.
But the key was—they were all on the same timeline.

A person who’s been missing for years suddenly returns, hears a suspicious lie, and then immediately drops the topic to ask about food?

A normal person’s reaction would be:

‘Are you kidding me?
If you don’t explain yourself, I’m not letting this go. Don’t think you can change the subject that easily.’

Real emotional changes follow a process. They’re not that abrupt.

Lin Kuo wasn’t lying.
He hadn’t trusted ‘Lin Zhi’ from the very beginning.

Of course, he’d already taken the note with the death code out long ago.

The reason he was speechless now was because he’d thought of the real Lin Zhi.
After he got dragged into the Walled City, she was left alone in the real world.

This fake Lin Zhi in front of him… he had temporarily treated her as a stand-in to soothe his longing.

He turned back to chopping vegetables.

“Still want Coke chicken wings?”

Lin Zhi didn’t answer.

Lin Kuo didn’t care what this Lin Zhi said anymore.
He hadn’t eaten before entering the second instance.

If she didn’t eat, he would eat it himself.

Without pausing, he chopped scallions, ginger, and garlic, then took the thawed chicken wings from the microwave.
He carefully cut slits into the wings, so the marinade would soak in better.

While waiting for the seasoning to do its work, Lin Kuo glanced at Lin Zhi again.

Their eyes met.

Only then did he realize that while he was busy, Lin Zhi had turned the kitchen upside down.
After finding nothing, she was now sizing him up, her eyeballs rolling unnaturally in her sockets.

When she saw him looking, Lin Zhi grinned, flashing a chilling smile.

“Where would my brother hide the death code?”

Lin Kuo remained motionless.

Lin Zhi cackled—ge ge ge—then turned and left the kitchen.

Rustling sounds came from the living room.
Lin Kuo didn’t need to look to know what she was doing.

She was tearing the house apart searching for his death code.

Time ticked by.
The longer she searched and came up empty, the more irritable she became.
The sound of her rummaging grew louder and louder.

Lin Kuo’s right hand shifted slightly.
The death code had been in his hand the entire time.

Fortunately, he’d folded the note small enough to grip together with the knife handle.
Only someone who cooked regularly would notice the abnormal grip.

Lin Kuo dropped the chicken wings into the pan, stirring while deep in thought.

He kept going over the instance rules in his mind, trying to pinpoint the strangeness he’d sensed the first time he read them.

The aroma of food filled the kitchen.
Just as he was about to pour the sauce into the pan, the spatula paused midair.

He realized what was wrong.

The instance had no time limit.

In the first game, the rule was clear: survive for five days to win.

But in Death Code, there was no such requirement.
All it said was to hide the death code so the evil god couldn’t find it—but it never said how long he had to keep it hidden.

Lin Kuo’s frown deepened.

The rules seemed simple, but the lack of a time limit changed everything.
It meant the evil god had unlimited time to search.

This instance was a dead end from the very start.

That’s why ‘Lin Zhi’ had revealed herself as the evil god so quickly.

Lin Kuo’s brows furrowed tighter.
The noise from outside the kitchen got worse and worse.

In her desperation to find the death code, Lin Zhi had practically destroyed the whole house.

Clearly, keeping the death code hidden at home was no longer an option.

But he wasn’t sure if this game, like The Intruder, restricted him to the villa only.

As he thought about it, his gaze fell on the trash can by his feet.

After a moment of consideration, he tossed some kitchen waste into a bag, preparing to take out the trash—to test whether he could leave the house.

He turned the stove to low heat and walked out of the kitchen with the garbage bag in hand.

Lin Zhi sat on the sofa, the room a complete mess.

Hearing Lin Kuo’s footsteps, she looked up.

“Bro, I searched every corner of the house, but I couldn’t find it.
So… the death code is on you, right?”