Evening, on a deserted beach.

A figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was a black-haired man, dressed in a black suit. He looked young, yet exuded a mature air. He was also handsome, and could be charming if he needed to be, but at this moment, he simply wore a lazy expression, yawning as he listlessly ruffled his slightly disheveled hair.

Vincent seemed to be waiting for something, his gaze fixed on the horizon, quickly settling on the northwestern corner of the sky. There, a solitary cloud stood out so vividly against the sunset.

Time passed, the sun sank in the west, and the cloud gradually expanded to the east and west, forming a long, narrow band of rosy clouds in the sky, looking like a shoal of sand suspended upside down.

As night fell, the wind gradually died down, and the calm sea turned dark purple, until a dark red new moon climbed into the sky, casting a hazy red glow over it.

"You're early," Simon's voice suddenly rang out from behind Vincent.

Vincent didn't turn around, nor did he show any surprise. "Time is what we have the most of. Waiting is also a form of relaxation."

"Teacher's words always sound so philosophical," a somewhat childish voice chimed in. The speaker looked like a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy, also dressed in a black suit and trousers. His appearance could only be described as delicate and beautiful, with such exquisite features that even women would be envious.

"Hehehe... he's just spacing out while staring at the sky, but he still has to pretend to be artistic... hehehe..." Woody's lewd laughter also appeared at that moment.

"Ho ho..." Another laugh sounded, and a short, fat, penguin-like figure appeared near the four of them. "Vincent, Woody, Simon, Sid," Mr. You's gaze swept across their faces one by one. "To see the four of you gathered together again, I am truly honored."

"Cough... cough... if you're not really honored, then don't say things like that." A sickly young man materialized on the surface of the sea like a phantom, speaking to Mr. You.

Beside him, there were two other shadows, also standing on the surface of the sea in a floating state.

"Death hasn't come yet?" Simon cast his cold gaze upon the three shadows.

Plague replied, "You know, he has absolute confidence in the people he bets on, so he doesn't even bother paying attention." He covered his mouth and coughed twice. "After all... the one he chose is the Devouring Sky Ghost Warrior!"

"Hehehe... you mean the cards we have on hand need a little more attention, right..."

A woman next to Plague interjected at this moment, "Didn't you prove that point by letting Feng Bujue get his hands on a psionic weapon?"

"Hehe... you seem very dissatisfied, Lord Famine..." Woody grinned sinisterly.

"I've already taken care of that," Simon interrupted them, lest the two of them start fighting over a disagreement. "It was resolved the day after Mr. You staged that farce. So, there's no need to argue about it anymore."

What Simon was referring to was naturally the script where Feng Bujue encountered K3-Akabane. It was the first team survival mode script that Feng Bujue queued for after the Death Quiz, and he encountered a derivative that was theoretically almost impossible to encounter multiple times. Clearly, someone was manipulating things behind the scenes... and the losses Feng Bujue suffered in that script were obvious to all, almost returning him to square one overnight, which was the price he paid for obtaining a psionic weapon too early.

"Let's not mention those past events anymore," Vincent continued after Simon's words. "Let's get down to business."

"The business is that the person you chose has already comprehended Soul Intent," War, standing on the other side of Plague, said, "This progress is too fast."

Woody smiled lewdly, "Hehe... the guy your old Plague brother chose is only just past level thirty, and his summoning specialization is already at B-rank, don't you think that's fast?"

War's eyeless eyes flashed with a dark light, "Don't change the subject, Woody, you know that's different."

"Ah... I feel like there's going to be a fight..." For some reason, Sid hugged his arms and shivered as he spoke. "I hate arguing the most..."

Mr. You stood to the side, watching the Four Hooligans of Hell and the Three Horsemen of the Apocalypse draw their swords and prepare to fight. On the surface, he was impassive, but in his heart, he was gloating, hoping that these guys would fall out and start fighting.

"Lord War is right," unexpectedly, these words came from Vincent himself. "My person mastered Soul Intent too early... this may not be a good thing." He paused, then added, "However, what's done is done, and cannot be reversed. How to resolve it is what we need to discuss."

"Hehehe... you say that, so you must already have a solution that will satisfy everyone?" Woody obviously knew Vincent very well.

"My person will be unable to play the game for the next forty-eight hours of real-world time," Vincent said. "Is that degree of concession acceptable?"

He looked around, but no one spoke. Then, he continued, "If there are no objections..." He glanced at Plague, "Young Master Plague, would you like to take a trip?"

Plague bowed slightly and smiled, "Gladly."

Vincent added, "But you must also agree to one condition of mine."

"Sounds like a dangerous deal..." Mr. You instantly smelled a conspiracy.

"Here and now, apart from Simon, who hasn't placed a bet, the six people you've chosen can make up a slaughter game, can't they..." Vincent smiled wickedly. "My request is very simple, let them fight."

"Hmph... so that's the condition." War was the first to sneer, "That's exactly what I want... anyway, my chess piece won't lose."

"I'm happy to play along," Famine added.

"Since Teacher said so..." Sid usually wouldn't object to Vincent's opinion.

Plague and Mr. You exchanged a look, then shrugged, "Since no one objects..."

"Hehehe... sounds like it'll be very interesting..." Woody grinned sinisterly, "But is this really okay?" He turned to look at Vincent, "The game between experts, the deathmatch beyond the limits, may make them stronger... hehe... that won't do you any good." The lenses of his glasses were still completely white, and no one knew what his expression was at this moment. "What exactly... do you want to see from this battle?"

Vincent didn't answer Woody. He simply faced Simon and said leisurely, "Mr. Referee, what do you think?"