Chapter 37: Baize vs. Silver Dragon

Baize led Longyin to the arena. Longyin raised his eyebrows as Baize deftly handled the equipment, then produced two sets of protective gear. Longyin eyed Baize suspiciously, and Baize met his gaze. “Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't wear this.”

Longyin took a deep breath, picked up the protective suit, and wrapped himself in it, leaving only his eyes exposed as he looked at Baize. Baize handed him a large hammer; Longyin was baffled but took it anyway.

“Deep breath!” Baize ordered.

Obediently, Longyin inhaled. With just a gentle press of Baize’s hand, Longyin’s most terrifying experience was about to begin.

He watched as a swarm of rats poured from four open black holes, instantly covering the floor beneath him. His face turned ghastly pale; his whole body trembled uncontrollably. The hammer in his hand swung wildly with no target, smashing about aimlessly. After a bout of frenzied beating, Longyin didn’t dare open his eyes—he felt the rats had already risen past his knees. Screams erupted, and Longyin was instantly petrified.

A pair of hands landed on his shoulders. Longyin grasped them like a lifeline, clinging desperately to Baize.

“Rats, rats, so many rats...” Longyin’s voice quivered on the verge of tears.

Baize stared, stunned at the figure hanging onto him. The terror in Longyin’s expression left Baize momentarily dazed. He tried to pull Longyin off, but Longyin clung tighter. “You bastard, I want to leave! Get me out of here! Hurry!”

Longyin, nearly scared to death, sobbed uncontrollably, holding on for dear life no matter how Baize tried to pry him off.

Baize sighed in resignation. “The rats are just strings of data. You're also just a string of data. At worst you'll be bitten to pieces, then you simply reboot—no harm done! Pick up your hammer and smash them. Clinging to me won’t make the rats disappear.”

Bitten to pieces? Longyin was already terrified out of his wits.

In the end, Baize had no choice but to let Longyin cling to him. With a hammer in each hand, Baize struck out rapidly, data flashes signaling the rats’ demise. His arms moved like lightning, the frantic heartbeat from Longyin's chest pressed against his own, mingling with screams in his ears. It was, Baize had to admit, a rather unique form of catharsis.

When the first wave of rats was finally exterminated, Baize quickly hit pause. In this place, you couldn’t leave unless you cleared the level or paused the game. With Longyin disrupting him, Baize had to halt at the checkpoint. It seemed, after all, that the one needing catharsis wasn’t him.

“Get down, the rats are gone.” Baize pressed Longyin's mouth, sparing his own ears further torment.

Longyin finally recovered his scattered soul, and seeing the floor restored to its original state, his mental tension released. Instantly, his limbs went limp. Baize caught him swiftly, shaking his head. “Your nerves are smaller than a rat’s.”

Longyin had no energy left to argue. He only wanted to escape this cursed place and stay far from this calamity-bringer. He feared neither heaven nor earth, only rats. Now, he was so weak he couldn’t utter a word. In that moment of terror, he’d unleashed his mental power, but that arena was immune to it, leaving Longyin helpless, forced to endlessly endure fear. He had vented, yes, but he’d lost half his soul in the process.

He opened the door, quickly shed the protective gear, collapsed to the side and began to vomit. Between heaves, he wiped his tears. This ordeal had truly devastated him. The thought of that swarm of rats crawling over him only made his retching worse.

Baize approached, glanced at the utterly miserable Longyin, and handed him a tissue. “So you’re afraid of rats.”

“Yes, are you pleased with yourself?” Longyin glared up resentfully. “You bastard, you call this catharsis?”

Baize handed another tissue. “This is how I vent. I actually quite enjoy it. You should have told me what you fear, your likes and dislikes, so I wouldn't misjudge.”

Longyin punched him. “You're truly insufferable!”

Baize seemed genuinely puzzled. “According to the partner code, I am your sky. Your basic perception of me should be affection.”

Longyin snapped, “Go to hell!” He withdrew his blocked hand and kicked Baize, hoping to catch him off guard and inflict some pain. But Baize easily blocked him, shaking his head. “According to the partner code, you must not disrespect me.”

Unable to curse, unable to fight, unable to win an argument, Longyin felt that he always drew the short straw when dealing with this brat. Frustrated, he chose to leave.

“Where are you going?” Baize grabbed his wrist.

“I can't communicate with you. I'm leaving, alright?”

“No! You haven’t started today’s lesson yet.” Baize declared solemnly.

Looking at Baize’s earnest face, Longyin’s eyes blazed with anger. He lunged and bit Baize’s chin! Not moving his limbs, he watched how Baize would react. After the bite, Longyin looked smugly at Baize, who rubbed his sore chin—this was a first for him. Yet, Baize wasn’t angry; he simply nodded seriously, “Next time you try to ambush me like this, it won’t work.”

Longyin’s brief triumph was shattered by Baize’s words. He squinted, studying Baize’s blurred face, then smiled charmingly—though the mask hid his smile, those expressive, liquid eyes drew Baize’s gaze.

“If you want me to practice, fine. Let’s spar in the arena. If you survive a single move from me, I’ll practice with you, every day if you wish.”

“Just one move? What do you know... biting?” Baize circled Longyin, voice full of doubt. “Though I suspect you’re prepared, I’m not nervous. If I survive your move, you’ll do as I say?”

Longyin rubbed his aching temples. “Not obey you—just practice with you.”

“Isn’t that the same?” Baize was confused.

“Do you accept or not?” Longyin didn’t bother to debate the semantics.

A halo suddenly rose beneath Baize’s feet, enveloping them both. With a flash, they appeared in the sparring room—Baize’s answer.

Longyin and Baize separated, Longyin raising his chin. “Are you ready?”

Baize nodded. “Anytime.”

A flash of cunning crossed Longyin’s eyes. There was no way Baize could withstand an SS-level mental shock. Longyin drew a deep breath, summoned his mental power, and unleashed a vast torrent toward Baize. Baize’s face paled and he frowned slightly—this slippery little eel was ruthless. SS-level mental shock, unresisted, Baize endured it head-on. Five minutes later, under Longyin’s satisfied gaze, Baize dissolved into white light.

Longyin dusted off his hands. Though his own face was a bit pale, his mood soared! Revenge felt sweet. Sacrificing a thousand to hurt eight hundred, Longyin admitted Baize was formidable—he’d actually withstood five minutes. But as he turned, his smile froze, pointing at Baize: “Why are you here?”

“Did you receive a victory notice?” Baize asked.

Right—Baize had clearly died, so why hadn’t Longyin received a victory message? He’d checked the settings; if Baize died, he shouldn’t be here. Longyin saw Baize turn to white light and assumed he’d won.

“You cheated!” Longyin groaned.

Baize shrugged. “I have a passive rebirth skill. I never struck back. It meets your condition—survive your move, and you’ll do as I say.”

Longyin was speechless. Baize had tricked him, capitalizing on his own rules. Damn passive rebirth skill, damn network—such exclusive cheating abilities were devastating.

Seeing Longyin’s expression, Baize’s voice carried a dangerous undertone. “Are you going to renege?”

Longyin inhaled deeply, accepting defeat. “How do you want to train?”

Baize produced two silver ankle rings adorned with bells. Looking at the beautiful ornaments, Longyin suddenly had a bad feeling.

Sure enough, Baize explained, “We’ll start by practicing your gait. Wear these ankle rings. When you can produce a graceful bell sound as you walk, you’ll have passed.”

This training left Longyin utterly dumbfounded, frozen on the spot. Did Baize think walking was a dance?