True Terror Chapter Twenty-Two: The Fatal Moment

The icy, bone-chilling seawater engulfed Mo Han and Mo Yan as they plunged beneath the surface. For the sake of safety, the two of them swam downward with all their might, nearly to the point of desperation. Enduring intense discomfort, they forced their eyes open underwater to check the remaining time for their mission.

Two and a half minutes remained. The situation was dire, and their only option was to wait out the countdown in the water. So preoccupied were they with dodging the last two and a half minutes, they forgot to consider whether they could even hold their breath that long.

Both Mo Han and Mo Yan were ordinary people. Though they could swim, their breath-holding limit was only about a minute—a threshold most people could not exceed. Of course, before the threat of death, a powerful will to survive can arise.

Yet two and a half minutes was still a despair-inducing stretch of time.

At the fifty-second mark, Mo Yan was nearly at her limit, while Mo Han persisted with great effort. As Mo Yan prepared to surface for air, she was suddenly seized by the ankle by a spirit lurking underwater.

She struggled frantically, but the hands gripping her from behind seemed to have the weight of a thousand pounds. No matter how hard she fought, she could not break free.

Mo Han noticed his sister’s distress and seized her arm, pulling with all his strength. Two opposing forces now acted upon Mo Yan—one dragging her deeper, one pulling her toward the surface. Mo Han, too, had reached the point where he desperately needed to breathe.

But if Mo Han let go now, there was no doubt Mo Yan would lose her life.

Driven by a fierce will to survive and a determination to save his sister, Mo Han summoned a tremendous strength. He swam upward, refusing to release his grip on Mo Yan’s hand.

Mo Han did not let go, but as Mo Yan saw her brother risk his life for hers, she was torn by inner conflict. If her brother refused to let go, both of them would drown.

Su Zheyuan had already perished in this mission. If she and her brother drowned together, this incident would end in total annihilation.

With this in mind, Mo Yan resolutely wrenched her arm free from Mo Han’s grasp and gave him a hard push. The force of her action sent Mo Han involuntarily toward the surface. With her last burst of strength, Mo Yan gave him no chance to resist.

Mo Han, left with no choice, surfaced for air. To stay any longer would mean death for both and would render Mo Yan’s sacrifice meaningless.

When Mo Han broke the surface, he saw a youth in white standing on the road above.

Realizing what had happened, Mo Han shouted loudly, “My sister is still in the water, save her!”

The youth, without a second thought, leapt from the roadside into the water with all his strength.

It was Su Zheyuan—the very one who had narrowly escaped the spirit’s grasp. After his elimination, he had found himself in a bright room. Upon waking, he realized he was still alive and, at first, thought he was dreaming. Only after pinching himself and feeling pain did he accept the reality.

Stepping out of the room, he saw people gathered by the shore. Approaching, he spotted Mo Han and heard his anxious call.

Su Zheyuan dove headlong into the water, plunging down to the bottom.

Mo Han, gasping for breath, hurriedly followed.

Underwater, Mo Yan’s lungs had already filled with seawater, and her consciousness was fading. Her life flashed before her eyes—a fleeting, vivid recollection. As she watched the story of her years, she smiled and let her eyes drift shut.

Su Zheyuan, robust and strong at fifteen, had no trouble reaching the bottom. He spotted Mo Yan, her ankle still gripped by a black, shadowy figure.

As Mo Yan’s consciousness ebbed, she vaguely heard the voices of Jiang Li, Fei Ling, Song Zhi, her brother, Su Zheyuan, and Du Xinlan. The voices grew louder, rousing her from the darkness.

With great effort, she opened her eyes to a bright, almost blinding light. Exhausted, she forced herself upright and realized she was back in her apartment room.

It seemed that fate had spared her; at the last moment, she had survived the mission’s end and been transported home.

“Mo Yan, you’re awake! That’s wonderful…” Before she could respond, a familiar voice filled her ears and someone hugged her tightly, their voice trembling.

Looking down, she saw it was Su Zheyuan.

Though she didn’t know how Su Zheyuan survived, knowing he was alive put her at ease. Fei Ling soon emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming bowl of chicken soup to help Mo Yan dispel the cold and dampness from her body.

Mo Yan’s last bout of unconsciousness had led to severe breathing difficulty and water in her lungs. Though her appetite was gone, this was Fei Ling’s heartfelt gesture, so she finished the soup.

Once color returned to Mo Yan’s face, everyone gathered around, eager to know how Su Zheyuan and Du Xinlan had survived.

Mo Han spoke first. “They were truly lucky. At the start, we were focused on identifying the werewolf player.”

“But we overlooked something: every mission of ours has the presence of evil spirits. It was never just as simple as finding the werewolf.”

“I was fixated on the werewolf, not realizing that being eliminated didn’t necessarily mean it was by the werewolf’s hand. The spirits could eliminate players too.”

“The clue was there from the beginning. We were told to find people.”

“At the time, it seemed odd, but I didn’t think too deeply.”

“Only later did I understand. Why were a few NPCs and innocent people deliberately included? Our escape route was with them.”

“The rules of the Ghost Record restrict the spirits. I think we all know that.”

“With those rules in place, spirits can only act at certain intervals.”

“When the spirits are bound by the rules, the werewolf player continues the game.”

“If we’re eliminated by the werewolf, we don’t fall victim to the spirits.”

“But if we’re eliminated by spirits, we truly disappear. The point of finding the werewolf was to make us realize that werewolves aren’t the only threat—the rules were nudging us to discover the spirits.”

“Once we found the real werewolf, we had to let ourselves be eliminated by them to survive until the end.”

“But an unexpected variable appeared: Sun Jing and Zhang Ling’er were killed by spirits right from the start, and the spirits disguised themselves as humans to join our game.”

“It was these two spirits who attacked us all along. Luckily, the rules restricted them, or I might never have realized there were spirits in our midst.”

“I suspect they were randomly sent somewhere by the Ghost Record and only awoke minutes before the mission ended.”

“My sister and I were pursued by spirits because the Ghost Record judged we hadn’t found an escape.”

“Su Zheyuan and Du Xinlan must not have encountered the spirits. For whatever reason, they found the right escape, which explains why Su Zheyuan was safe on the road while my sister and I were attacked underwater.”

“That’s how it happened. It was a close call this time.”

“Indeed, who could have imagined such a twist?”

Jiang Li, hand to his chin, agreed. “I think it’s because your mission was more difficult.”

“If this last task of the first stage was already so dangerous, what about the ones to come?”

Fei Ling voiced the key question. If Mo Han’s group faced such peril, could she hope to survive every incident and eventually return to her ordinary life?

Her faith, built upon her parents, wavered for the first time.

“Man can shape his own fate,” Jiang Li said with conviction. “Even against the heavens themselves, we can seize half a victory.”

Hearing this, Fei Ling’s eyes shone with renewed hope. She murmured, “Half a victory against heaven…”

Such a powerful will—to challenge fate itself and hope to best it, even by half. The world knows fate cannot be defied, and to attempt it always carries a price…

———

I know my writing is a little rough, but it’s truly difficult to come up with escape hints.

This is my first book, and I want to hone my craft. Even if it doesn’t do well, I won’t give up. Writing is about practice, reading, and listening. Lately, I’ve been rereading novels by the great master Black Fire Seed, hoping to learn how to lay clues for escape.

I’m just an ordinary person, and though my writing is average, I’m content with even a single daily reader.