Ten Day Ultimatum

"Hoho..." Han Yimo gave a dry, bitter chuckle. "Doctor Zhao, you’re overestimating me. As a writer, the last thing I want to talk about is my own work. If I get any free time, I’d rather just forget it exists and rot in peace."
"Then let’s talk about something else," Doctor Zhao said, already working the thread through torn flesh. The wound’s rounded shape made it a hell of a lot harder to stitch than a clean slice. Steeling himself, he asked,
"What do you do to relax—besides writing?"

"I... play games."
Doctor Zhao nodded. "That’s good. I play too, after work. What do you play?"
Han Yimo’s thoughts were swimming—half-drowned in blood loss. After a long pause, he finally mumbled,
"League of Legends... There’s this female ninja... {Akali}. I like her a lot."

"Oh?" Doctor Zhao smiled. "No kidding? Akali’s one of my mains too."
His voice was calm, but everyone saw it—his hands were shaking. Even with all his experience, this was his first time stitching a living, conscious human with no anesthesia. Maybe he really did like Akali. Or maybe he was just trying to keep the man alive with idle chatter.
"Doctor Zhao... you like Akali too?" Han Yimo nodded faintly. "Everything about her fascinates me... her moves, her lore... she's called {The Fist of The Shadow}..."

Doctor Zhao’s hand paused for a beat. He gently touched Han Yimo’s face.
"Can you still see me?"
"Yes?" Han Yimo blinked in confusion. "I see you fine..."
"Who am I?"

"You’re... Doctor Zhao."
Zhao nodded. "Han Yimo, you’re starting to hallucinate. You need to stay awake."
"Hallucinate?" Han Yimo frowned. "I feel fine. I’m talking to you normally, aren’t I?"

"It’s the blood loss," Zhao said plainly. "Your brain isn’t getting enough oxygen. Just now—you said Akali is {The Fist of The Shadow}. But her actual title is {The Rogue Assassin}."
"The Rogue Assassin...?" Han Yimo’s eyes narrowed. He’d never heard that before. Was it really the blood? Was he slipping?
Not far off, Qiao Jiajin elbowed Qi Xia and muttered,
"Swindler... what are they talking about?"

"No clue." Qi Xia shook his head. "I don’t play games."
"I’ve played my fair share," Qiao Jiajin muttered. "But I’ve never heard of that one. Sounds weirder than {Fatal Fury}."
Qi Xia didn’t respond. He wandered over and sat on a clean stone, gaze drifting.

Han Yimo and Doctor Zhao’s conversation faded into silence. The hallucinations were getting worse—words no longer helped.
The group’s mood turned heavy.
Lin Qin, sensing she could do no more for now, sat down beside Qi Xia.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Qi Xia turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"This is the second time you’ve asked me that," he said. "Is that your go-to line during therapy?"
"You’re not my patient," Lin Qin replied simply. "We don’t call people patients—that’s impolite. I’m just curious. For someone like you, what fills your mind?"

"My wife," Qi Xia said flatly. His tone carried something bitter. Hollow.
"Your wife?" Lin Qin nodded, thoughtful. "You mentioned someone waiting for you outside. That’s her?"
"Yeah." Qi Xia nodded.

Lin Qin gave a faint smile. "Didn’t expect that. So, you’re married."
"What, you think I can’t be married?" Qi Xia narrowed his eyes slightly.
"I didn’t mean anything by it. But you’re a swindler... so I’m curious what kind of woman married you."

"You..." Qi Xia rarely got riled up—but that did it. He stood, slow and cold, and stared her down.
"So because I’m a swindler, my wife must be trash too? Is that what you’re saying?"
"Ah—I..." Lin Qin flinched at his sudden intensity. "I didn’t mean to offend. I was just wondering..."
"Then stop wondering about me," Qi Xia said icily. "I’m a liar. Nothing I say can be trusted."

The conversation died there, leaving behind a bitter silence. But Lin Qin didn’t look particularly affected.
Nearby, Doctor Zhao tied off the final knot.
"It’s done," he said, wiping the blood from his fingers. "That’s the best I can do. Now we just hope it doesn’t get infected."

"Thank you..." Han Yimo’s voice was barely a whisper.
Qi Xia stood again and addressed the group.
"I’m heading out."
The rest stared at him.

Leaving?
"Where are you going?" Qiao Jiajin asked.
"Doesn’t concern you," Qi Xia said. His eyes flicked toward the restaurant across the street, gaze distant.

"You’re not seriously going out to look for {Dào}, are you?!" Police Officer Li blurted, stunned.
Qi Xia didn’t deny it.
"What, you have a better plan?" he asked coolly.

Police Officer Li ran a hand through his hair. "Forgive me, but that’s suicide. 3,600 {Dào}? Even if you somehow earned one per trial, you’d have to survive 3,600 near-death experiences!"
"Yes." Qi Xia nodded. "But there’s still a chance."
"A chance?" Li scoffed. "Ten days. That’s 360 games a day. Even if you didn’t eat or sleep, that’s madness. And that’s assuming Mortal Dragon wasn’t lying. There’s no proof this world will really collapse in ten days. Even if you do get all 3,600, who says he’ll let you leave?"

"I know." Qi Xia cut him off. "But I’m not going to rot in this hellhole waiting to die. Even wandering around’s better than sitting still."
"But—" Li started—
Creak.

Everyone turned toward the noise.
The staff room door had opened again. The shop assistant stepped out, still stark naked. Her lips were slick with oil. [N O V E L I G H T] Her hands held something—something limp and pale.
Her body was all bones and shadow, barely human.

Zhang Chenze frowned, took off her women’s suit jacket, and walked over. She draped it around the shop assistant’s shoulders.
Then she turned on the men, eyes blazing.
"What the hell did you do in there? Where are her clothes?!"
Qiao Jiajin raised his hands. "Hey. Long story. Best to just let her be."

"You’re sweet," the shop assistant murmured, touching the jacket gently. She turned to Zhang Chenze.
"It’s a shame you’re not a man... I’d have slept with you."
"Sleep?" Zhang Chenze froze. "What are you talking about?"
"Since we can’t sleep together..." the woman said cheerfully,
"I’ll give you something to eat."

She opened her hands.
Cradled in her palms...
Was a thoroughly boiled infant’s arm.