You have violated the rules.
“Move and you’ll die!” The Pumpkin Man sensed someone stepping onto the track, quickly recited his line, then spun around.
Yet Zheng Wei was prepared; as soon as he set foot on the track, he froze in place.
The Pumpkin Man glanced back, saw Zheng Wei had not broken the rules, and snorted coldly before turning his body away again.
He dragged out the words, continuing, “Move…”
“…and…”
Taking this opportunity, Zheng Wei feigned a motion to move, his body merely swaying without actually advancing.
Just as Zheng Wei made this false move, the Pumpkin Man suddenly accelerated his speech.
“…you’ll die!”
He turned again, but Zheng Wei, as if anticipating the moment, remained perfectly still.
The Pumpkin Man snorted once more, shaking his head as he turned back, continuing his slow chant.
“One…”
“Move…”
“And…”
This time, Zheng Wei seized upon the Pumpkin Man’s lengthy pause and swiftly stepped forward. But as his foot just left the ground—
The Pumpkin Man seemed to sense it. “…you’ll die!”
He spun around rapidly, catching Zheng Wei mid-step, his foot suspended in midair, yet Zheng Wei managed to halt his motion, maintaining absolute stillness.
But this position was exhausting—a high-knee stance reminiscent of military drills, forbidden to move. Most people could hold it for only a few minutes; those trained might last longer.
Zheng Wei appeared to be an ordinary man, so a few minutes would likely be his limit.
The Pumpkin Man seemed determined to battle it out, glaring at Zheng Wei, waiting for his stamina to fail.
After five minutes of stalemate, sweat poured from Zheng Wei’s brow.
Hu Xing’er watched gleefully from the sidelines as Zheng Wei struggled. She herself had managed only a few seconds before passing through, while Zheng Wei had endured for five minutes—and the Pumpkin Man showed no intention of relenting.
Finally, at the eighth minute, Zheng Wei’s leg gave out and touched the ground.
The Pumpkin Man let out a strange, cackling laugh, gazing at Zheng Wei like a fish laid out for slaughter.
“Move and you’ll die!”
Around him, a dozen wooden spikes appeared, hurtling straight for Zheng Wei.
Zheng Wei tried to retreat quickly to the starting line—he was only two or three steps away—but perhaps due to his prolonged exertion, his body did not respond, his steps faltering, unable to leap back in time.
---
Zheng Wei frowned, bracing himself on the ground, intending to roll back to the starting line.
At that moment, I saw Hu Xing’er’s hand move stealthily behind her; a wave of air burst forth from her playing cards.
Zheng Wei felt a tremendous resistance and immediately fixed his gaze on Hu Xing’er.
“You?”
He sensed the wind rushing toward him from behind, the wooden spikes about to pierce his body.
Hu Xing’er sneered, “You’re reaping what you sow.”
As an observer, I could see that Hu Xing’er had quietly used her power, creating an air barrier to block Zheng Wei’s path to safety. This pushed Zheng Wei onto a path of certain death, yet he showed no sign of panic.
On the contrary, upon realizing Hu Xing’er had deliberately stopped him, he laughed.
“Has he lost his mind from fear?” Su Mu, hands on his hips, watched Zheng Wei from the sidelines.
“I don’t think so. He’s got something up his sleeve,” Qian Duoduo replied, putting down his chicken leg.
“Fatty Qian, do you know him?” I asked, surprised, as Qian had barely spoken before.
He took another bite of chicken, swallowed, and said slowly, “I don’t, but I have a feeling—this guy is dangerous.”
“What’s the use of danger? He’s about to die anyway,” Su Mu scoffed, clearly having grown to dislike Zheng Wei in the previous round.
The wooden spikes struck Zheng Wei without hesitation—one even penetrated his back and came out through his chest.
Strangely, despite his severe injuries, Zheng Wei shed no blood.
He sneered at Hu Xing’er, “You’re ruthless, but…”
Before he could finish, another spike pierced his head, ending him instantly.
“Tch.”
Hu Xing’er ignored Zheng Wei’s corpse, shouting at the lone speaker in the dance classroom, “He’s dead, so I win?”
But apart from our conversation, there was no other sound in the room.
“Interesting.”
Tan Tou spoke up suddenly. I noticed a strange gleam in his eyes and followed his gaze.
Zheng Wei’s body had vanished.
At the finish line, another Zheng Wei stood beside the Pumpkin Man, smiling.
“What’s going on?”
I was utterly confused, watching the scene unfold. Hu Xing’er seemed unaware that Zheng Wei had reached the finish line until Su Mu called out to her. She turned, saw Zheng Wei at the finish, and trembled, disbelief written across her face.
But she quickly clenched her fists and strode to the starting line.
Now, less than thirty seconds remained before the game ended.
Hu Xing’er’s initial attempt had taken over thirty seconds; Zheng Wei’s fake death had consumed eight minutes. Now she had only one chance left—a desperate sprint at maximum speed.
---
Hu Xing’er knew she was in absolute peril and braced herself for death.
She fiercely concentrated her mental power, compressing half the air in the dance studio toward herself.
I felt a hint of suffocation, but fortunately Hu Xing’er lacked full mastery of her ability—otherwise, she could have withdrawn all the air and killed us all.
The Pumpkin Man sensed Hu Xing’er about to enter the track, snickered, and began, “Move…”
He had barely spoken the word when the air at Hu Xing’er’s feet exploded, producing a deafening blast.
Even we, the spectators, were startled by the sudden noise. Hu Xing’er shot forward like an arrow toward the Pumpkin Man and the finish line.
The Pumpkin Man reacted swiftly, summoning dozens of wooden spikes and launching them at the speeding Hu Xing’er.
This time, the number of spikes was astonishing—clearly he intended to leave Hu Xing’er no chance.
With no turning back, Hu Xing’er charged straight into the barrage. Fortunately, her air shield was strong enough to deflect the spikes, her rapid pace using the airflow to nullify the attack.
But the Pumpkin Man summoned even more spikes—not to attack her, but to erect a wall in front of the finish line.
Hu Xing’er, with nothing left to lose, smashed into it, her powers exhausted, and crashed heavily onto the track.
Regrettably, she stopped less than a meter from the finish line, just as the countdown in the dance classroom reached zero.
By the rules, Hu Xing’er had failed—and failure meant death.
Her strength and spirit completely spent, she struggled to stand and declared, “I don’t want to die.”
“I want revenge!”
She glared furiously at Zheng Wei, as if she wished to kill him a thousand times over.
Yet Zheng Wei, rather than angered, seemed delighted.
“If you have the strength, I welcome you to try.”
“Failure means death.” The Pumpkin Man grinned wickedly, approaching Hu Xing’er, summoning countless spikes, ready to strike.
This time, Hu Xing’er had no means to survive, forced to face death in full view.
“Wait!”
Unexpectedly, Zheng Wei spoke up. The Pumpkin Man was taken aback.
“What’s he up to?” Su Mu muttered under his breath. Not only him, but all of us were baffled.
“Is he trying to save Hu Xing’er?”
Zheng Wei stepped in front of Hu Xing’er, blocking the floating spikes, and addressed the Pumpkin Man.
“You’re the one who dies.”
“You broke the rules!”