Death Game: Starting as a Trickster, Pretending to Be a God

“Woo—!”

A long, drawn-out steam whistle rang out from within the spinning top hat, and Good Night’s expression shifted slightly.

“Shit, what the hell is this thing?”

Though he blurted out the question instinctively, deep down, Good Night already had a rough idea of what was inside.

He had prepared himself—no matter what Phantom had cooked up, he was ready to fight it back. But now... he felt like he might not be able to.

No matter what kind of monster it was, Good Night had the confidence to crush it.

But clearly, whatever Phantom was about to summon wasn’t a monster at all.

The steam whistle grew closer, accompanied by a rhythmic clanking of metal.

Moments later, from within that opening, two beams of intense light shot out.

Then—

A bright red old-fashioned steam locomotive appeared before Good Night, charging straight at him at full speed.

And behind the locomotive stretched an entire train of over ten carriages!

One of the greatest magic tricks in history was the train illusion created by David Copperfield!

As a Magician, Phantom naturally knew of that legendary performance—in fact, the spark that made him become a Magician came from stumbling upon a recording of that very trick on his home television as a kid.

That’s why...

Phantom had naturally chosen this trick as his ultimate trump card!

The moment the train appeared, retreat flashed through Good Night’s mind.

His body couldn’t go head-to-head with a train—especially not one that was clearly no ordinary train.

But just as Good Night was about to pull back, he realized he was already standing on a pair of “tracks,” his feet locked in place by sturdy chains.

“An illusion? No—my feet can’t move, that’s ‘truth’!”

Good Night was stunned, and he quickly figured out the cause.

He wasn’t in the open-air garden of the hot spring hotel anymore—he was inside a tunnel.

The train hadn’t left the hat; he had been sucked into it!

Was he really going to get hit by this thing?!

“Shit, if I die like this, that’d be way too ridiculous!”

Good Night gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the keyboard.

At this point... he had no other choice.

“It’s just a damn train, watch me derail the bastard!”

...

In the garden, watching Good Night get sucked into the hat along with Phantom’s disappearance, Paper Kite wore a worried expression.

“Is Captain Good Night going to be okay?”

She murmured with concern, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted by Xiaoyun.

“Still got time to be distracted?”

Xiaoyun said softly as a limb covered in stitches clamped around Paper Kite’s throat.

Without hesitation, Paper Kite spun her gun and fired, the bullet grazing the skin of her own neck, precisely snapping off four of the arm’s fingers, which fell to the ground.

Hearing Xiaoyun’s taunt, Paper Kite nodded.

“Fair point—rather than worrying about Captain Good Night right now, it’s more practical to take you out first and then go help him.”

Paper Kite said this, then stopped firing.

For the first time, she began manually loading bullets—opening the revolver’s cylinder, one by one, she fed in silver bullets that materialized from thin air.

These six bullets were clearly different from all the ones before.

“Just as I thought—you’re the one most deeply tied to the Night Valley Realm,” Xiaoyun said casually. “In that case, I’ll deal with you using methods from the Night Valley Realm too.”

Then, Xiaoyun took out another piece of a “corpse.”

But this corpse clearly didn’t belong to a human.

It was a pitch-black, slender tail, its tip sharp and elongated like an arrowhead.

“A demon’s tail?”

Paper Kite finished loading her bullets and asked with a frown.

“That’s right—I got this by chance... the tail remnant of a former Lord-class demon.”

Xiaoyun lightly pressed the tail against her back, and in an instant, it came to life, swaying left and right before finally curling into a half-arc, resting behind her.

Since Xiaoyun’s skirt was already a bit gothic in style, the tail attached to it didn’t look out of place at all.

Meanwhile, Xiaoyun’s eyes took on an eerie purple-red glow, and faint purple-pink magical patterns appeared on her face and arms.

Just as Paper Kite raised her hand to fire, Xiaoyun pounced on her, slamming Paper Kite to the ground.

The black umbrella pressed down on Paper Kite’s throat, while Xiaoyun’s knee ruthlessly pinned Paper Kite’s left hand—the one holding the gun—against her own stomach.

Looking down at Paper Kite, so close, at her flushed face from lack of air, Xiaoyun spoke with regret.

“You and Good Night were good enough—rare talents among Order’s captain-level members, both in combat smarts, decisiveness, and abilities... but it’s a pity... a pity you weren’t strong enough.”

“At least, your ceilings aren’t as high as mine or Phantom’s.”

“Still... I won’t waste either of your bodies.”

As Xiaoyun spoke, Paper Kite raised her right hand.

“Bang!”

She brought her two fingers together and fired an air bullet straight at Xiaoyun’s head.

Xiaoyun’s head was knocked slightly to the side, blood trickling slowly down her temple.

“Even now you still have this fighting spirit—truly remarkable.”

She said it with even more admiration and praise.

But Paper Kite, pinned beneath her, forced out a few words.

“No... no...”

“I was just... stalling!”

Paper Kite said, a smile spreading across her face.

“You lost.”

The moment she finished speaking, Xiaoyun heard a strange noise coming from behind her.

“Rattle, rattle...”

The sound was bizarre—not loud, but it cut through the air clearly.

It even drowned out the massive train whistle coming from Phantom’s hat.

And as Xiaoyun listened closely, she realized...

It sounded like the shaking of a dice cup, the spinning of dice.

The moment she recognized that sound, Xiaoyun knew exactly who had arrived.

She spun around sharply and saw Good Night, dusty and disheveled, fly out of the hat in midair, crashing heavily to the ground.

Then came the old steam train—on top of its carriages, metallic silver playing cards and crimson-glowing poker cards swirled and clashed in a chaotic dance.

The silver Magic Playing Cards belonged to Phantom, of course.

And the red poker cards shared the same owner as the twenty-sided die still spinning in the sky.

“Gambler’s Playing Cards, Twenty-sided Die...”

Xiaoyun’s gaze landed on the thin, bespectacled man in a Tang Suit, standing like a nail firmly on top of the train.

She rose to her feet, no longer caring about Paper Kite beneath her, her expression dead serious.

“So it is you... Gambler, Li Hua!”