I am willing to become a stepping stone, to send you to the highest place.

“No,” Xing Ye objected, “you’re planning to use a one-for-one fighting style, right?”

After going through countless worlds together, Xing Ye understood Cao Qian’s combat style better than anyone else. Even now, this girl’s way of fighting had always been self-destructive. She seemed to believe that she only had this one life to toss, and that only this one life had any value.

Indeed, letting Cao Qian use her achievement title skill to trade one life for one enemy was a very reasonable combat choice. At present, Xing Ye only had two trump cards left: his own achievement title “Stealing the Sky and Swapping the Sun”, and Lu Mingze’s “Turning Misfortune into Blessing”.

As for “Stealing the Sky and Swapping the Sun,” Xing Ye had already found a proper use for it. But “Turning Misfortune into Blessing” was something he had always reserved as a safeguard against the system itself, and it had to be kept.

He should not expend either his own or Lu Mingze’s achievement titles on a player like the conductor. From a purely rational standpoint, Cao Qian’s combat method was the most reasonable.

But Xing Ye did not want to sacrifice Cao Qian. He was not opposed to a strategy of killing a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of one’s own. If it was effective, then using it was not a problem. But Cao Qian was different. He could not allow her to develop the belief that she only had a worthless life to throw away.

A game was a game, but life in the future still had to go on. Cao Qian was his teammate. Xing Ye hoped that this strong, decisive, conscientious girl—whose entire being seemed to shine with positive qualities—would cherish herself more, both in the game world and in the real world. He did not want her experiences in the game to make her routinely harm herself in real life as well.

“I know what you’re worried about,” Cao Qian said softly as she stood together with Xing Ye in front of the carriage door. “My thinking isn’t the same as before. You have to trust me.”

Cao Qian had once, out of inferiority and because of a secretly dependent crush on her former teammate Liang Ergou, believed that as long as she could be of help, it didn’t matter what happened to her—even her life could be casually thrown away.

But after fighting alongside Xing Ye all the way to this point, after undergoing the baptism of the mental world, and after having led a team as a leader and served as the spiritual pillar of the group in the Villa Escape World, Cao Qian was no longer the same as before.

The most valuable thing she had learned in the game was to accept herself—to accept both her strengths and weaknesses, to face squarely the gap between herself and others, to place herself correctly, and to use limited abilities to produce the greatest possible effect.

She spoke softly again: “After you achieve a perfect victory in this world, you’ll enter the final stage, right?”

Xing Ye gave a low “Mm.”

Cao Qian said, “I think I’m just a brick. Maybe I’ll never be able to charge into the final stage, but at the very least, on the road to you becoming the greatest achiever, I’ve laid down one layer of steps.

“We’ve fought our way here together. Please let me send you into the final stage. One person cannot defeat fate alone—because to challenge the sky, there must be a cornerstone beneath one’s feet.”

And Cao Qian was willing to be that cornerstone.

It might sound a little tragic, but in reality, there were countless people in real life who charged forward without hesitation, becoming the cornerstone of modern people’s happy lives.

If it was for defeating fate, she was willing to be stepped on—not out of self-contempt, but to provide a point of support for humanity’s legs.

Lu Mingze trembled slightly in Xing Ye’s arms. Xing Ye understood what he meant. He gently nodded, took a mirror out of his bag, and handed it to Cao Qian, saying, “He wants to help you.”

Cao Qian had already realized, back when Xing Ye used a button to control the thermos cup, that the small mirror could transfer between mirrors. If she held one mirror in her hand, the small mirror could assist from the side; and if danger arose, the small mirror could return to Xing Ye’s side and would not suffer serious harm.

She knew this but did not point it out, silently accepting Xing Ye’s concealment and understanding his concern for the little mirror.

This time, Cao Qian did not refuse. She took the mirror and walked out of Carriage No. 1.

The bright light outside the carriage made Cao Qian narrow her eyes slightly—and in that very instant, she felt a piercing pain in the soles of her feet. Looking down, she saw that the ground at the junction between Carriages No. 1 and No. 2 was densely covered with sharp blades.

Clearly, when she had seized the Fate-following item from Tan Feng earlier, there had been no such blades. And when she had just stepped out of the carriage, although she had been momentarily distracted by the light, she had still been observing her surroundings and the ground with her peripheral vision—there definitely hadn’t been any blades then.

It had to be the effect of a tool-type QR code. But QR codes were activated immediately upon being clicked—could it be that the conductor was nearby, secretly observing?

Unlikely… Cao Qian shook her head.

Lu Mingze was also actively searching for the conductor’s whereabouts, constantly moving through countless mirrors. Strangely, he was unable to locate the conductor’s exact position.

Where exactly is he? Lu Mingze pondered within the mirrors.

Sharp blades were embedded all over the soles of Cao Qian’s feet, the pain piercing to the bone. If it were anyone else, they would have cried out long ago. But Cao Qian had endured too much pain; her tolerance far exceeded that of ordinary people. Moreover, the “Transforming Girl” skill still retained the ability “Self-Deception”, which could reduce pain to one-tenth. It was still bearable.

Without changing her expression, she pulled her feet free from the blades, bent slightly, grabbed two blades with both hands, and forcibly ripped them out. Then, using the two blades, she chopped down hard, snapping the blades embedded in the ground ahead of her.

With her immense strength, it took only a few strikes to blunt and flatten all the blades on the ground. Cao Qian’s expression remained unchanged as she left the boundary between Carriages No. 1 and No. 2 and opened the door to Carriage No. 2.

Carriage No. 2 was a first-class carriage, and there were quite a few passengers. Cao Qian’s attire was eye-catching; her pink twin ponytails caused the passengers to look toward her. Her gaze swept around the carriage, but she did not see anyone resembling the conductor.

Where exactly is he… Cao Qian thought as she took another step forward. She had just reached the washstand area of Carriage No. 2 when she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest and spat out a mouthful of blood with a “wah.”

Her head spun as if she had suffered a massive impact. Unable to stand steadily, she collapsed straight to the ground.

Once again, an entirely invisible QR code had activated in secret. Cao Qian did not even know what kind of attack she had suffered—she only felt difficulty breathing, excruciating pain, and blood pouring from her mouth again and again, as if she were about to vomit up her bile and internal organs.

The previous one had been a tool-type QR code, dealing physical damage. This one was an internal-damage QR code—and far more deadly.

Was she going to die just like this? Her achievement title hadn’t even had the chance to take effect yet. She hadn’t even found where her opponent was, and she was already dying after falling into someone else’s trap? Ever since meeting Xing Ye, she had never suffered such a humiliating death.

As Cao Qian’s thoughts ran wild, the small mirror on her chest began to jump repeatedly. She struggled to pick it up and look—and saw a tiny QR code on the surface of the mirror.

Seeing Cao Qian injured, Lu Mingze decisively used the Repainting Brush for the fourth time, recreating the QR code that Qian Jinlai had given to Cao Qian, the same one Cao Qian had once used to heal the gravely injured Yang Zhuang.

The “Restoring things as in the beginning” QR code could fully heal physical injuries in a single use. After being redrawn, it could only achieve half the effect and could not fully cure her, but it was already enough to allow Cao Qian to struggle back to her feet.

Cao Qian touched her abdomen and felt much better. With the little mirror’s QR code, plus the pain-resistance and healing abilities of “Transforming Girl,” it did not affect her ability to fight.

“You’re really amazing. This ability is just like Xing Ye’s,” Cao Qian said, gently touching the little mirror.

The swan crystal Linlin on her chest trembled weakly, deeply worried about Cao Qian, yet powerless to help due to its limitations, feeling especially distressed.

Lu Mingze said, “I’ve figured out where the conductor is. He’s in the control room of Carriage No. 1!”

This was actually a very simple line of reasoning. If the conductor wanted to keep switching the lights of Carriage No. 1 on and off, he would have to be in the control room of Carriage No. 1—and the control room was located right in front of the carriage door.

But why had no one noticed it? Because everyone could see through the window outside the control room door that there was no one inside. Secondly, no one had seen how the conductor entered the control room. Most importantly, Carriage No. 1 was the centre of the battlefield—a place of extreme danger. How could the conductor dare to remain hidden in Carriage No. 1 the entire time?

Yet the principle was actually very simple: the most dangerous place is the safest place, and the visual blind spots people are most likely to overlook are often right beneath their own eyelids.

This conclusion was reached jointly by Xing Ye and the little mirror. Cao Qian spun around at top speed, left Carriage No. 2, and prepared to enter Carriage No. 1.

Who would have thought that right at the junction between the two carriages, Cao Qian would be attacked yet again?

This time it was a mental attack. The instant she stepped onto the smoking area, she was suddenly seized by fear. She became afraid of the dark, afraid of confined spaces. In the crowded environment of a train, she could barely breathe, curling her body up on the ground and trembling all over.

Why could the opponent keep using QR codes remotely, again and again—why?

As Cao Qian trembled in fear, she continued to think. At the same time, she struggled to touch the little mirror on her chest and said to it, “Can you still use the Repainting Brush? Use ‘Scars of the Heart’ on me!”

“Scars of the Heart” was a QR code they had obtained in the mental world. It could transform psychological illnesses into tangible physical injuries, treating deep mental trauma by manifesting it in the body. Using this method could definitely overcome claustrophobia!

Lu Mingze said worriedly, “You’re already this terrified—those scars will definitely be horrifying. ‘Restoring things as in the beginning’ can’t be used consecutively on the same person…”

“Use it on me—this is my mission!” Cao Qian said with difficulty. Her entire body was shaking, her lips had turned purple, and she was struggling to breathe.

Lu Mingze had no choice. He could only use the Repainting Brush for the fifth time and cast “Scars of the Heart” on Cao Qian.

Cao Qian’s body immediately stopped trembling, but in its place, the skin all over her body began to rot continuously. The wounds on her arms had already festered and turned septic.

Even with her pain reduced to one-tenth, it still hurt—so much, so much! Even with the bonus from the “Transforming Girl” ability, grotesque wounds appeared on a beautiful girl’s body. What terrifying pain this was!

Step by step, Cao Qian painfully walked into the pitch-black Carriage No. 1.

She still remembered where the control room was. Feeling her way through the darkness, she reached the door, threw a brutal punch, violently shattered the lock, and pushed the door open to walk inside. Before entering, she casually tossed the mirror in her hand away, leaving the little mirror outside the door.

The room was empty, but Cao Qian did not care. She almost spoke directly to the air: “You’re using QR codes, right? You can’t use them now, can you?”

The narrow control room could barely accommodate one person turning around. After Cao Qian entered, she could clearly hear the sound of human breathing.

Even if a body could be hidden, the traits of a living person—breathing, heartbeat—could not be concealed. In the darkness, these signs were extremely obvious.

“You should have two initial skills,” Cao Qian said, following the sound as she grabbed the neck of the person hidden in the dark. “One is the ability to see through the effects of QR codes. The QR codes you see are different from what we see—you can fully understand how they work.”

She tightened her grip, trying to strangle him by sheer strength. “The other is trap-setting. You can pre-place QR codes in certain locations, like landmines. These QR codes don’t activate immediately; only when a player enters the area do they take effect. That’s why you can lay traps anywhere—one misstep, and someone will suffer invisible attacks like I did.

“Your plan was probably to set traps throughout Carriage No. 1 under the cover of darkness, then escape Carriage No. 1 while Wang Sifang’s ‘Three Thousand Worlds’ effect ended and drew everyone’s attention away. That way, you could attack the Thirty Million player from a safe position.”

The person in the darkness suddenly spoke. “Miss, you’re covered in wounds—are you trying to kill me? I won’t die. Do you know why I let you enter the control room without making a move? Because I’m not afraid of your bluffing attack at all.”

The conductor was right. His two initial skills were indeed “Seeing the tiniest details” and “Advancing Step by Step.”
“Seeing the tiniest details” allowed him to identify the effects of QR codes.
“Advancing Step by Step” allowed him to set traps: with every step he took, he could establish a trap at his footprint. Within these traps, QR codes could be scanned but would not activate immediately; only when someone entered the camp’s range would the QR code take effect.

Cao Qian had stepped on three such invisible traps in succession. Each QR code was enough to kill her, but with the little mirror’s help, she had stubbornly endured.

Even so, the conductor was not afraid, because his achievement title was “Turning the Tables”. It could convert defence into offence and reflect all enemy attacks back at them—whether Fate-following items, initial skills, physical attacks, or QR codes. None of them could harm him.

He had allowed Cao Qian to enter the control room precisely to lure her into killing him. That way, she would die from the reflected backlash of her own attack.

At that moment, Cao Qian let out a soft “heh.”

She had plenty of surgical knives—so why hadn’t she simply killed him with one? Why had she instead groped her way forward and grabbed his neck? It was precisely to test the enemy’s trump card!

After entering the control room so easily, she had already realized that his confidence meant there must be a deadly trap. She first tested him with the simplest physical attack—and when she grabbed his neck, she discovered that she herself was experiencing suffocation.

So that’s how it is. Cao Qian understood what his third trap was. Without hesitation, she chose to activate “To burn both jade and stone together” in her mind. At the same time, she drew a surgical knife from her waist and slit his throat in one stroke.

The blade touched the conductor’s neck—but the one bleeding was Cao Qian. She clutched her throat, unable to speak, yet she smiled faintly.

Before the conductor could even say “You’re too stupid,” he felt his breath seize up—and he collapsed as well.

“To burn both jade and stone together”: one life for one life. Before dying, the user could activate the achievement title skill to take away the player who directly caused her death.

Cao Qian could be said to have died entirely from the conductor’s skill. Thus, at the instant she died, the conductor died as well.

At the moment both of their hearts stopped, Carriage No. 1 regained its light. The girl with pink twin ponytails leaned against the control room door, standing there—dead.

 

Translator : DarNan