Chapter 373: You Don't Remember Me?

"My motive for murder differs from yours. How should I put it? Every target was carefully vetted before I made my move. If they lived, more people would suffer. So, rather than a killer, I prefer the title Death Penalty Doctor. After all, I am curing the sickness of this era." Number Seven, Jin Zhouzhe, had just detailed three murders. His methods were ruthlessly efficient, and his psychological fortitude was unnerving. The way he talked about ending a life made it sound as mundane as eating or drinking.

He took off his helmet. "That is the absolute truth, so please do not lump me in with the majority of you. I know exactly what I am doing, and I have always remained perfectly rational."

He paused for a moment. "Actually, the only reason I've talked this much nonsense is to prove a point: I am a very reliable teammate. Partnering with me will drastically increase your chances of survival."

Standing up and returning to the round table, Number Seven, Jin Zhouzhe, didn't explicitly ask for votes, but his words caused a ripple of unease among the listeners.

Before his confession, he had pointed out that whoever received the most votes would draw public ire and face certain death.

After his confession, he proposed an alliance, laying out his own value.

This one-two punch was far more brilliant than Wang Yuchun's strategy. Even Number Nine seemed tempted.

"Turning a blind eye to the harm you inflict on others, possessing no guilt or remorse, utterly incapable of empathizing with another's pain... And yet, you have the sheer audacity to claim you are curing this era? All superheroes are criminals, let alone a self-righteous prison doctor like you."

Just as everyone was hesitating over whether to ally with Number Seven, Jin Zhouzhe, a voice suddenly rang out.

The unhurried tone was incredibly familiar to me. I glanced over. "Du Yu..."

Wearing a neat suit, Du Yu sat in the tenth seat, looking completely out of place among this crowd. "Number Seven, stop trying to justify your crimes. A murderer must pay with their life. Outside the law, no one has the right to interfere with another's life."

"Oh?" Number Seven, Jin Zhouzhe, raised an eyebrow. He had expected his future collaborators to be the first to speak up; he hadn't anticipated someone questioning the very nature of his actions. "I haven't denied my crimes, nor have I disrespected the law. I am simply perfecting it in my own way. You should know that our legal system is flawed. Otherwise, I wouldn't have remained at large for so long, nor would I be sitting here talking to you now."

"Whenever a crime is committed, it leaves clues. Whether or not someone is caught largely comes down to luck; it has no direct correlation with the law." Du Yu was surprisingly unyielding this time. Even I didn't understand why he was specifically targeting Number Seven. Jin Zhouzhe was clearly not someone easy to deal with.

"Number Ten, what exactly are you trying to say? We didn't come here for a lecture on legal theory." Number Seven's expression remained calm, but a cold light flickered in his eyes.

"You kill because of aberrant thought processes or emotional defects, but that is no excuse for murder. Your confessions sound childish and laughable to me—like madmen spouting nonsense, or children desperate for praise." Du Yu stood up and swept his gaze across the room. "None of you understand why the organizers gathered you all here. You don't know how to repent, and you never will. In your minds, it is always the world that is wrong, never yourselves."

Having said his piece, he stepped away from his seat. "A bunch of pitiful wretches. Blinded by your own delusions, you will all ultimately die by your own hands."

Du Yu seemed to have seen through the true nature of this game. Without looking back, he strode toward his cell.

"What the hell? Has he lost his mind?" Number Six shouted after him. "The game isn't over yet!"

"Ignore him. When his turn comes, we'll just drag him back out here. If he refuses to sit in the Electric Chair, we'll kill him ourselves!" Jin Zhouzhe watched Du Yu walk away, a faint sense of foreboding rising in his chest, though he couldn't quite articulate it. "There's something off about this guy."

"Could he be the twelfth person hiding among us? From his tone, he seems bent on upholding law and order, like a cop or a lawyer." Wang Shi also stared at Du Yu, unsure of what to make of the situation.

"Would the hidden twelfth person really be stupid enough to say something like that? Doing this practically clears his identity. He shouldn't be the hidden player or the killer. I think he might be the cop who ate the Blue Candy." Number Nine's hand roamed over Wang Yuchun's body, fondling her as he spoke. "Since someone has already walked away from the table, I don't give a damn anymore. You guys keep chatting."

Right in front of everyone, Number Nine tore open the buttons on Wang Yuchun's collar. Pinning her hands behind her back, he deliberately paraded her past Number Five, Tian Teng. "I'm going to take Number Four back to my room to discuss a few things. Give me half an hour."

Wang Yuchun possessed a stunning face and a spectacular figure. What made her even more alluring was her celebrity aura and unique temperament. Right now, she was as docile as a house cat in Number Nine's grasp, making the mouths of everyone watching go dry.

"Half an hour? You sure are fast," Number Six said, gritting his teeth in sour jealousy.

"This is a transaction between Number Four and me. If any of you want in, all you have to do is cast your vote for me." Number Nine didn't say another word. Licking his lips, he carried Wang Yuchun into cell number nine.

The round table suddenly felt much emptier. I looked at the remaining participants, guessing who the hidden twelfth person really was.

Time passed quickly. Unsurprisingly, Number Seven, Jin Zhouzhe, also received zero votes. The alarm blared, and Number Eight, who had remained silent this entire time, stepped forward.

I had been paying attention to this Number Eight earlier. He was over 1.8 meters tall with a well-proportioned build, and I could vaguely see the outline of his muscles beneath his thin shirt.

He was younger than me, looking like a college student who hadn't yet graduated. He had a handsome face, but his complexion was deathly pale. It wasn't the pallor of malnutrition, but rather an eerie, ghastly white brought out by the bulging blue veins pulsing just beneath his skin.

'I feel like I've seen this guy somewhere before.' Resting my chin on one hand, I kept my eyes locked on Number Eight.

Putting on his helmet, Number Eight brushed his bangs aside. His eyes were glazed and filled with terror, looking at the game participants gathered around the table as if he were looking at corpses.

"The hell is wrong with you?"

"What are you looking at?! Keep staring and I'll gouge your eyes out!"

"Do you know something we don't?"

Everyone reacted differently. I remained silent, comparing Number Eight's face to the faces in my memory. The sense of familiarity only grew stronger. 'I've definitely seen him before!'

Number Eight paid absolutely no mind to the shouting. His gaze eventually landed on me. "You probably don't remember me, do you?"

As soon as he spoke, the atmosphere in the hall turned bizarre.

"Did these two know each other before?"

"Impossible! Serial killers are major felons who mostly act alone. Besides, if these two are together, they're taking up two slots. That makes this game unfair."

"This game was never fair to begin with! I say that during the next vote for the killer, we knock off one of them!"

"It's not that simple. This Number Eight seems to be deliberately misleading us." Out of everyone, Wang Shi was the calmest. "I've crafted many characters. Number Twelve has been sitting beside me this whole time, and every change in his expression has been under my observation. The two of them shouldn't know each other."

"There is a problem with these two. Number Twelve's facial expressions fit the characteristics of gradual psychological realization. He must have seen Number Eight before, but his brain has simply forgotten." Jin Zhouzhe looked back and forth between Number Eight and me with keen interest. "Regardless, these two are a problem. If the two of them form an alliance, the balance among us will be broken once again."

I heard everything they said, but I was probably the most bewildered person in the room. It felt as though a piece of my mind was missing; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't recall it.

It was an incredibly frustrating sensation that caused me to unconsciously clench my fists. "Who are you? Have we met before?"

"Of course. It's just that the version of me in your memory can no longer be spoken aloud." Number Eight gently pushed his helmet back, revealing his entire face. He tried desperately to muster a smile, but all that effort only amounted to a strained twitch of his lips.

"My name is Xia Chi. I used to be a paranormal streamer."

Crash!

My chair clattered to the floor as I shot to my feet. My eyes went wide, but for a long time, I couldn't speak a single word.

The memory of my first visit to Xia Qingzhi's house flashed through my mind. She had shown me that bloodstained family portrait. The faces had been missing, but the figure in the photo was an almost exact match for the man standing right in front of me.

"No, who the hell are you?!"