Chapter 3: The King's Game
1191 Words
[New player detected. Would you like to enter The King's Game?]
The moment Chen Qi grabbed the playing card, a message flashed through his mind.
“W-What the...”
He stood frozen for a full ten seconds, questioning reality itself.
What on earth was happening to this world?
First, a die that could grant any wish for free.
Now—some kind of game called The King’s Game?
You didn’t need to be a genius to realize something was deeply wrong with this “game.”
Looking back on his perfectly ordinary 23 years of life, Chen Qi couldn’t help but wonder—
Had he been living in complete ignorance of how the world truly worked?
[Yes] / [No]
The message kept blinking, waiting for Chen Qi’s choice.
“Heh...”
“Even if it’s a trap, I’ve already come this far—I might as well jump in.”
The name “Jomoya” on the back of the playing card sealed his decision.
“Yes.”
The instant he confirmed, the card turned into a streak of violet light and fused into Chen Qi’s left hand.
A Seven of Hearts symbol appeared on the back of his hand.
[Create a new game character] or [Inherit the previous character]
Another choice popped up, and Chen Qi instantly understood how the bronze die had fulfilled his wish.
Without hesitation, he chose: Inherit the previous character.
A surge of violet light burst from the Seven of Hearts, completely enveloping him.
It felt like he had been thrown into a furnace—his body being reforged and reshaped.
The next moment, the light faded.
Chen Qi was gone.
Jomoya Chris had returned.
“Hahaha… it really is a new life.”
Feeling this body—both strange and familiar—Chen Qi’s emotions were all over the place.
He had actually become Jomoya Chris.
If this was the price of changing his fate, he found no reason to resist.
[Player]: Jomoya Chris (Chen Qi)
[Vitality Level]: 4 (Note: Average human = 2)
[Equipment]: Seven of Hearts
[Skills]: Flesh Manipulation, String Execution (Note: Range 10 meters)
[Psionic Points]: 30
This was his game status.
After checking the skill range, Chen Qi broke into a cold sweat.
The bronze die had led him to a spot exactly 10 meters from Jomoya.
Had Jomoya not been severely injured—or if Chen Qi had taken just one step closer—he would’ve been dead meat.
Jomoya’s final words—obsessed with “Chen Qi’s heart”—clearly weren’t the ramblings of a dying man.
Damn, that was way too close.
Chen Qi shot a venomous glare at the corpse, half-wishing he could tear it apart all over again.
But logic kicked in. He needed to clean this up properly.
No one could ever connect this corpse to Jomoya Chris.
He took the communicator and luxury watch from the body, then carefully searched it.
Since the guy had been preparing for a fight, there wasn’t much else on him. Chen Qi stripped it clean in no time.
Now, the body looked just like a random street bum—expensive clothes aside.
But what to do with the body…? That was the tricky part.
He had no experience handling dead people.
If he just dumped it, the bullet wound in the chest would raise suspicion.
And with secrets at stake, no trace could be left behind.
Woo... woo...
A low whimper drifted through the alley as the autumn wind howled.
Chen Qi’s hairs stood on end, his senses on high alert.
He felt it—a vague but distinct threat lurking in the darkness.
This wasn’t sight, sound, or touch—it was something deeper.
A primal instinct, awakened after his Vitality Level reached 4.
“What the hell...?”
A massive black dog the size of a calf stepped out from the shadows.
A single spiral horn jutted from its head, and its eyes burned with eerie green flames.
The stench of rot and blood rolled off it in waves.
Chen Qi could smell death.
“Urban legends... are real?”
“The Death Hound actually exists?”
In the slums, there had always been a rumor:
No matter how someone died—sickness, starvation, g**g fights—if the body was left unattended, a horned black hound would come and eat it.
Chen Qi had always thought it was a scare tactic made up to keep outsiders away.
But now...
It was real.
And wasn’t it supposed to only eat corpses?
Why was it growling and drooling at him?
Rrrrhhh...
A deep, guttural snarl echoed—not like any dog he’d ever heard.
As Chen Qi raised his left hand, ready to test a skill, the hound suddenly backed off.
But it didn’t run away—it guarded the body, growling protectively, like he was trying to steal its meal.
“You better clean that up completely,” Chen Qi growled. “Next time I see you, I’ll break your damn legs.”
With that, he turned and vanished into the night.
Honestly... this might be the best way to dispose of a body.
Under the shroud of darkness, Jomoya Chris moved swiftly and gracefully through the alleys.
The purple light’s transformation had given this body far more strength than before.
The g**g members from earlier were long gone.
Chen Qi left the area with ease.
“So strange... the body seems to retain some of Jomoya’s muscle memory. But it’s still my body, isn’t it?”
As he instinctively unlocked the communicator and typed in the password with ease, Chen Qi realized—something was off.
Even stranger: guided by a vague familiarity, he found his way to a luxury car parked two kilometers away.
He started the engine and instinctively drove home.
“Am I... method acting now?”
Outside the window, the buildings grew more extravagant.
Clearly, this “home” wasn’t the slum apartment he used to live in.
Not that it mattered—he had no intention of going back.
Everything there had been cleaned up perfectly. No one would miss him.
Soon, a lavish villa came into view. Chen Qi moved to stop the car—then stopped himself.
He remembered this villa from the news. It was one of Jomoya’s private love nests.
He wasn’t about to tangle with any of those women.
He drove on.
A few minutes later, he pulled up to another luxurious villa.
A few taps on the communicator and the gates opened automatically.
The security robot scanned him, then lowered its electric weapon.
A hidden residence.
This was one of Jomoya Chris’s secret safehouses.
The villa was empty.
Yet as Chen Qi walked in, everything felt strangely familiar, as if he’d lived here for years.
After enjoying a gourmet midnight snack prepared by the robot chef, he soaked in the tub—
And opened a diary he had just retrieved from the safe.
“I am Jomoya Chris.
If you’re reading this... then I must already be dead.”
The first entry was dated July 7th, Year 17643—
Exactly five years ago.
- Writer
