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

”It really was Robin who won!”

Mosin-Nagant said in disbelief.

”Damn, she’s one terrifying ’Painter.’ How come she’s so unknown?” Chris muttered. ”Being able to draw a ’mirror world’ scene in such a short time and project it into reality... that’s absolutely insane.”

Mosin-Nagant nodded. ”Honestly, I never thought Chef God would lose. In terms of cooking, his skills are master-level—he has both talent and has put tremendous hard work into it.”

”But... I never expected this ’Robin’ to be equally extraordinary in painting. Anyway... it was a brilliant match.”

The unfamiliar woman’s voice sounded behind them again.

”Oh? You think Robin won because she’s also a genius?”

Mosin-Nagant turned around.

Although her tone seemed to contradict his words, for some reason, Mosin-Nagant didn’t feel offended.

”Do you have a different opinion?”

”Of course. While you’re not wrong—both sides are talented individuals who have worked hard in their respective fields,” Fluoxetine said, propping her chin on one hand, ”but here’s the thing... a Battle of Wits is still a battle. Robin won for one simple reason: she’s stronger.”

”In these three Third Tier fights, the outcomes of the others are uncertain and depend on on-the-spot performance, because the five players taking the stage are roughly on the same level,” Fluoxetine said calmly. ”Nicholas, rank sixty-one. Prisoner, rank sixty-three. Snowy Owl, rank fifty-five. Mountaineer, rank fifty-one. Chef God, rank fifty-eight...”

”But Robin’s level is different from all of them. Even the Night Watchmen aren’t sure of her exact ranking—but I can tell you, her rank just recently went up. Right now, she should be... number thirty-six.”

”So, the moment she stepped on stage, the outcome of this match was already decided,” Fluoxetine sighed. ”In my opinion, her performance was actually quite poor... It was precisely because of her obsessive approach to painting that she barely managed to win.”

”As an excellent Chef, look at what Chef God did—two dishes from different cuisines to showcase skill and breadth, and one customized dish to show understanding and creativity.”

”And as a painter, what did she draw? A bunch of sketch-like shapes for practice, a scene sketch focused on reproduction... In this match, she never produced anything that could truly be called a ’work.’”

”This is caused by her personality and obsession—when she’s not confident enough, she can’t create.”

Fluoxetine paused for a moment here. ”But fortunately, her strength is enough to make up for it.”

Hearing Fluoxetine’s words, Mosin-Nagant and Chris were both stunned.

”Is that for real, sis? If I remember correctly, those rankings are supposed to be completely anonymous, aren’t they? Who the hell are you?”

”Damn, could Your Excellency be someone from the forum?”

Although Mosin-Nagant had seen ”Fluoxetine” before, what he saw was ultimately not the real deal.

And right now, Fluoxetine was in disguise, dressed too plainly, with her aura restrained and subdued, and she wasn’t sitting in the Psychological Society section—so he couldn’t recognize her at all.

Fluoxetine noticed their confusion and smiled. ”I’ve just witnessed all of them fighting at full power and their performance, so I made some estimates on my own.”

”Rankings aren’t necessarily accurate, but the ’tiers’ are certain.”

She looked toward Robin, who was now seated in the Order spectator section, and narrowed her eyes.

”When will you ever fix that soft, merciful nature of yours toward your enemies, little Robin?”

”But then again, it’s precisely because of that personality that you’re so ’adorable.’”

Her gaze drifted to the man beside Robin, who was talking with her and preparing to step onto the stage, and her eyes curved into crescents.

”Wonderful. Another adorable one... is about to go on stage.”

...

”You won, Robin. Winning is good.”

”That was such a close call—but we’ve got the match point now.”

In the Order and Night Watchmen spectator sections, everyone was showering Robin with praise.

But Robin felt uncomfortable with all this praise instead, frantically waving her hands. ”No... not at all... I... I...”

She fumbled with her words, then looked at Lin Yu, who was about to go on stage.

”Wait, wait... May May!”

Robin called out to him, and Lin Yu turned to look at her.

”What’s up?”

”Nothing, just... I wanted to thank you in person,” Robin said, lowering her head to stare at the tips of Lin Yu’s shoes. ”Thank you for helping me before. Also, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have been able to win today.”

”It was after going through that [dungeon] with you last time that I... I finally touched the threshold to take the next step.”

Lin Yu heard Robin’s words and then smiled. ”Don’t say that... The reason you could win and move forward is all because you’re amazing, nothing more.”

”Actually, I should be thanking you, Robin—you saved me in that last [dungeon], and now that you’ve secured this match, my pressure has been greatly reduced.”

Lin Yu said with a smile.

That said, he knew very well how crucial this match was.

Because Order had now taken the match point, as long as Lin Yu won this round, Free Alliance wouldn’t be able to obtain any of the ”Nine Great Treasures of Pure Abyss.”

And considering that the match involving Zhu Ming would determine the fate of Zhu Qiansi, he’d better try his best to win that one too.

So for Lin Yu, this match wasn’t about how to win anymore.

What he had to consider was...

Should he win?

What was more advantageous—letting Free Alliance get what they wanted, or letting Order keep what they wanted?

Lin Yu sank into thought.

Was it better to let someone from Free Alliance take a step closer to Fourth Tier, or to let Order safeguard these two [items]?

Entering the passage, Lin Yu was still uncertain.

”No matter what, let’s just play the first few acts well first,” Lin Yu said, pulling out his phone back in the Player Lounge. ”As for how it ends, I’ll leave that to improvisation and on-the-spot judgment.”

He sent a message to Shen Bingmiao.

”You’re sure there’s no problem, right?”

Shen Bingmiao’s reply came quickly.

”Don’t worry. What you asked of me is actually very easy!”

Though the finale was still uncertain...

But the opening... Lin Yu was certain.

His performance and design would stun everyone right from the very beginning!

In the Player Lounge, the door leading to the arena lit up.

Lin Yu stepped inside and walked a short distance before emerging from a white light.

He had entered the arena section of the Land of Certain Death!

The massive arena was far wider than it appeared from the spectator seats, and the gazes focused on him made Lin Yu feel his heartbeat quicken.

What a perfect stage...

He looked at the host, Earl. The blazing flame being opened its mouth and spoke the first line from Lin Yu’s predetermined script.

”Ladies and gentlemen, next up is the fourth match of this event!”

”Featuring the ’Designer’ versus...”

”—the ’Director’!”