Chapter 7: A Ritual Without A God

Just as Xiao Zhang had said, the gathering Yu Ziyu was attending was indeed “high-risk.”

But that danger… was meant for other people.

Because the event was not open to ordinary civilians at all.

It was organized by the former players of what had once been known as Infernal Paradise.

That explained the strange look on Yu Ziyu’s face earlier.

The phrase “stay safe” simply did not exist in his world.

—SCREEECH—

The piercing shriek of brakes tore through the stillness of the night as the car screamed to a halt at the entrance of the residential complex.

Its owner clearly couldn’t be bothered with parking etiquette—the vehicle was left sprawled across two spaces, completely ignoring the painted lines, even knocking the warning tape askew.

Brazen.

But the person behind the wheel had every right to be.

Yu Ziyu had arrived at the gathering site.

The complex itself was a model housing project that had long since become a dead zone.

Though fully constructed, after that incident, not a single resident had ever moved in.

Under the cover of night, wildly overgrown grass swallowed the rows of identical buildings.

Beneath a starless sky, the only sound was the faint chirping of crickets.

Yu Ziyu unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out of the car.

After a moment’s thought, he lazily grabbed the black cloak tossed beside him and draped it loosely over his shoulders.

He had originally agreed to come for one reason only—to hear news about Jealousy, to confirm that it hadn’t done anything unnecessary.

But after the police visit, there was now another reason.

Earlier, when he had met the gazes of the two officers, he had casually brushed against their thoughts.

That was how he learned the truth.

The boy hadn’t died.

He had merely gone missing.

Aside from the still-twitching lump of flesh clinging to his shoulder, the last thing reflected in the boy’s terrified eyes—that grotesque, distorted silhouette—

was Jealousy.

That hidden report, buried within memory, had come from the Supernatural Management Bureau.

Yu Ziyu had even noticed the signature at the bottom of the file.

Lou Chen.

A vaguely familiar name.

He skipped past it.

This gathering explained why Jealousy had appeared there in the first place.

Earlier, Yu Ziyu had shredded the photo-monster and even flicked a finger to set up a confusion barrier around that couple—Jealousy had no reason to be able to locate that boy with such precision—

Unless someone had marked the prey.

In the game, a mark meant locking the boss’s aggro.

If one person had to die each day, the marked individual would be the first to fall.

A marked target was nothing more than a sacrifice offered to the boss—
like a cake placed neatly in a box, brazenly labeled please enjoy.

In reality, it likely evolved into something far worse.

No matter where the target fled, the boss would always be able to find them.

That boy had probably been used as a test—to confirm whether Jealousy had truly appeared.

Like a lamb awaiting slaughter in a ritual.

If Jealousy showed up, then the rumors were real.

And Jealousy was born of darkness.

So naturally, the more vile the marked target, the better.

What could be more fitting than someone who had murdered an innocent girl for the sake of lust?

“Tch.”

Yu Ziyu clicked his tongue impatiently and brushed aside the strands of hair blown against his cheek with slender fingers.

Jealousy had shown up—but it hadn’t consumed its offering.

Which meant it was still wary of him.

It knew Yu Ziyu disliked trouble and public disturbances, so it restrained its bloodthirsty instincts.

Even if Jealousy’s constant inquiries into his whereabouts were irritating, at least it was being obedient.

And yet—the boy was still missing.

Which meant he had likely been taken by these people.

…That became Yu Ziyu’s second reason for attending this tedious gathering.

It had been a long time since a blood ritual.

He didn’t like such things.

But some former players were psychologically warped, using rituals as cover to commit atrocities.

Yu Ziyu knew that if Jealousy were stimulated by bloodshed, the outcome wouldn’t be limited to a single death.

And if that happened, the Supernatural Management Bureau would inevitably trace the clues back to him.

That couldn’t be allowed.

He needed to stop this—without disrupting his normal life.

Yu Ziyu rested his fingers against the car door and tapped lightly.

The black-cloaked figure fell into thought, blending seamlessly into the darkness.

If not for the wind lifting the hem of his coat, it would have been impossible to tell where he ended and the night began.

Behind him, footsteps approached.

The stranger seemed to be heading to the same destination.

Upon spotting Yu Ziyu—also cloaked in black—the person lit up with excitement and hurried toward him.

Sensing the approach, Yu Ziyu turned at once.

He found himself facing a vaguely familiar face.

Before he could react, she recognized him almost instantly and cried out in delight:

“Ah—it’s you!

I knew it!

You’re the same as us!”

Yu Ziyu frowned.

“I’m a fan of Teacher Ziye,” she said eagerly.

“His photography is amazing, right?

We met at the exhibition—I was standing next to that idiot who was shaking in fear.”

Her expression carried a strange mix of secrecy and fanaticism.

“So… you’re his fan too?”

…Ah.

So that was it.

From her words, Yu Ziyu recognized her.

She was the girlfriend of that man from the exhibition.

“It’s you,” he said.

Though she didn’t quite understand what he meant, she nodded excitedly.

“Yes!

That’s right!”

So she had been the one to place the curse.

If it was her, everything made sense.

She would have known exactly what the boy had done—and she would have had the perfect opportunity to mark him.

Since she was here, she must have been a former player.

Perhaps dissatisfied with Yu Ziyu’s blank expression, she puffed up with pride.

“My name is Gu Leyu.

I made it to the second floor of Infernal Paradise.

What about you?”

Reaching the second floor meant she had some competence.

Which also meant she likely possessed skill cards—or even supernatural abilities.

Yu Ziyu wasn’t sure whether players retained their abilities after leaving the game.

He wasn’t one of them, after all.

Another useful piece of information.

In the past, he wouldn’t have cared.

But now that Jealousy had resurfaced, knowing more was never a bad thing.

These people were likely Jealousy’s followers.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t be foolish enough—as humans—to welcome its appearance and draw the attention of the Supernatural Management Bureau.

If the world had a “kick” button, Yu Ziyu would have sent these unhinged idiots flying without hesitation.

He didn’t answer.

She continued pestering him, circling around him repeatedly, until his patience finally wore thin.

He flicked her a glance and said slowly,

“I’m not a player.”

“What?”

Gu Leyu looked startled.

“You’re not a player?

Then why are you here?”

“I’m… special.”

Without waiting for her reaction, Yu Ziyu headed toward the designated building.

Gu Leyu immediately followed, squinting in the darkness to read his expression.

Seeing that he clearly knew where he was going—and hadn’t wandered in by chance—only deepened her confusion.

“Special?

How special? …Who are you, really?”

“You ask too many questions.”

Yu Ziyu ignored her.

He had reached the stairwell.

In his line of sight, darkness swallowed the entire corridor.

Though the complex had long since lost power, the emergency lights still glowed an eerie green.

Faint sobbing drifted through the air, amplifying the sense of something unnatural.

“That’s my boyfriend crying,” Gu Leyu said with a sneer.

“He’s always been a coward—but when lust takes over, he’s surprisingly brave.”

She scoffed.

“Maybe that’s why it showed up and then left.

I told them we should’ve picked someone else.”

Yu Ziyu didn’t respond.

Finding no entertainment, she finally fell silent.

“What a rude person.

Don’t tell me he’s one of those losers who didn’t even clear the first floor, just pretending to belong.”

She muttered under her breath and stole a glance at him.

Unfortunately for her, Yu Ziyu didn’t spare her a single look.

As her words faded, a figure emerged from the stairwell.

A gaunt hand stretched out, as if identifying the newcomers.

He examined Gu Leyu first—then, after a long, torturous silence, his gaze landed on Yu Ziyu.

Within seconds, recognition dawned.

His voice rose in excitement, words tumbling out unevenly.

“Teacher Ziye?!

You really came?!

I thought you wouldn’t—this is such an honor, truly an honor—!”

“I’m just here to take a look,” Yu Ziyu cut him off bluntly.

That alone was enough.

Gu Leyu, who had been sneering moments ago, froze.

She turned stiffly, her gaze shooting toward Yu Ziyu like a bullet.

“W-What… you’re Teacher Ziye?

No wonder…”

Yu Ziyu looked at her coolly.

Color rushed to her cheeks.

She lowered her head and murmured,

“I’m… I’m sorry, Teacher Ziye.

I shouldn’t have spoken like that.

Please forgive me.”

Among these power-worshipping former players, Ziye the photographer was nothing short of a god.

No one knew why, but every single one of his photographs—even the most ordinary landscapes—

filled them with an indescribable fear.

It was like being swept away by an unforgiving tide.

His images created the sensation of falling into empty space, weightlessness tightening around the viewer’s throat.

Slow.

Helpless.

Suffocating.

The instinct to resist never even had a chance to form.

Reverence for strength was ingrained in these players.

And human power was utterly insignificant before such overwhelming force.

They were conquered—effortlessly.

Once, Gu Leyu had nearly been unable to tear herself away.

As she stared too long, her chest heaved, her mind dissolving into chaos.

For a moment, she forgot all about Infernal Paradise.

She could only stare, utterly captivated.

That alone proved how terrifyingly powerful Ziye truly was.

A power capable of contending with hell itself—of dominating the observer, pouring terror straight into the soul—as if he were the true ruler of Infernal Paradise, the nexus connecting everything.

The thought sent Gu Leyu’s imagination spiraling.

But hadn’t Teacher Ziye just said… he wasn’t a player?

She froze.

Not a player—then how could he be this strong?

“Enough.”

Yu Ziyu cut off their worshipful stares, irritation clear on his face.

“Move.

I’m going inside.”