Chapter 39 – Bloody Ferrara (11)
◎Who cast that stupid vote?◎
Two days later, the Throne Race 178th round of qualifiers proceeded as scheduled.
This round of matches was scheduled for 9:00 PM, and before that, three participants had consecutively faced defeat. The patience of the live audience had worn thin. They cursed and complained, and the stands resounded with boos. The atmosphere was not particularly pleasant.
Zhuang Qingyan and Xu Xing chose to watch the live broadcast from their hotel rather than attend the event. The reasons Zhuang Qingyan didn’t attend were simple: firstly, Song Ke had run out of money, and they couldn’t even afford the cheapest tickets, priced at 400 Alliance coins; secondly, he had a severe case of germophobia and couldn’t tolerate the noisy and crowded environment of the stands.
Since Zhuang Qingyan didn’t go, Xu Xing certainly wouldn’t go alone. Both of them lay comfortably on the luxurious sofa in the viewing room, with plenty of food and drinks at hand, enjoying the match.
It had to be said that Xu Xing knew how to indulge himself. The seven-star hotel they had booked provided a holographic display with a stunning 24k resolution, and it even offered multi-angle broadcasts, making the experience nearly as good as being there in person.
At the Sycara Theater.
After a brief intermission, a lively young girl with twin ponytails and orange glitter eyeshadow appeared in the center of the arena.
“Hello, everyone! It’s been a while, did you miss me?”
“Yulica!!” The previously gloomy atmosphere in the audience instantly lifted, replaced by enthusiastic cheers.
Yulica, one of Ferrara’s top ten super rookies, was a virtual idol on the same level as Luo Qinghe. However, their styles were markedly different. Yulica was lively and cheerful, attracting mainly young fans.
“I heard your voices! It seems like everyone is still full of enthusiasm~ Now, let me take a look at the next participating team. Huh? They’re called V587. It’s a team but there’s only one contestant coming on stage!”
“Quite bold, isn’t she? Let’s welcome her to the stage!”
The audience fell momentarily silent, and then discussions and doubts erupted one after another.
“What? Did I hear that right? 1 vs. 100? Am I going crazy, or is she?”
“Another one here to make a joke; there won’t be a single decent match tonight!”
“Alright! Saves me the trouble of voting.”
Outside the screen, Xu Xing bit onto the juice straw and vigorously waved his small fist.
“Sister, go for it!” He had cast a whopping 1000 votes!
Zhuang Qingyan didn’t say anything but had a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. Those who mistook a lion for a kitten were soon going to pay the price.
The stage gradually rose, and a slender figure appeared before the crowd.
Song Ke stood quietly, with a peculiarly shaped, enormous silver umbrella by her side.
In a five-story VIP box, a man with ice-blue eyes exclaimed, “Huh, what is she holding?”
“A weapon-type ability?” the man mumbled to himself, stroking his chin.
Behind him, another young man with a tear mole at the corner of his eye and striking looks was slumped in his seat, tiredly yawning, “What’s so interesting about these regional matches? It’s only because of you that we’re here. When are we heading back to Erjia?”
…
In an apartment located a dozen kilometers away from the Sycara Theater, a slim man who was watching the match through a terminal looked slightly bewildered but quickly stood up. “Aqi, come and see this!”
Duanmu Qi emerged from his room, still displaying an imperceptible pallor on his face. His gaze focused on the delicate girl on the screen, and his eyes narrowed. “…It’s her.”
After Song Ke took the stage, the murmurs in the audience grew louder, and suspicions arose. Yulica quickly appeared, gesturing for everyone to quiet down. She then energetically raised the microphone and announced, “Let the challenge begin!”
The barriers on both sides opened, and a total of 100 zombies poured into the arena from all directions, converging on the sole human figure.
Zhuang Qingyan and Xu Xing, watching the clear projection, saw Song Ke standing calmly in place, slowly raising the weaponized umbrella in her hand.
The iron umbrella, which could cover the sky, opened with a “whoosh,” completely shielding her.
A silver flash streaked by.
The audience members who had tried to widen their eyes to see clearly were blinded by the intense light, temporarily losing their vision for a few seconds.
A nearby drone immediately changed its direction and flew towards her, attempting to capture a close-up angle.
Song Ke twisted the handle, and the eight umbrella ribs extended by a section, blocking the view once again.
What happened under the umbrella was unclear to the onlookers, who could only hear the sound of blades cutting through flesh through the amplification devices.
“Clang, clang, clang!” Like chopping vegetables, one after another, the zombies pounced, only to be sent spiraling and flying away, motionless on the ground, lifeless.
What a swift clearing speed!
In the audience seats, numerous people anxiously stood up, craning their necks to get a better look.
“Damn, can’t see anything!”
“Director, what are you doing? Can’t you change the angle?”
“Hurry up, the zombies are about to be wiped out!”
The drones and cameras skimmed the ground, attempting to break through from every direction, but it seemed the silver umbrella had eyes on its back. It defended flawlessly from every angle, and no matter how they circled, they couldn’t capture what was happening under the umbrella.
The wealthy individuals who had spent a fortune on hoverball tickets became the most frustrated people in the entire arena. Their view was even worse than that of the regular spectators. They were either blocked by the dense crowd of zombies or could only see a ring of silver umbrella edges.
This 2888 credits spent were utterly unsatisfying; it was a complete waste!
The silver iron umbrella resembled a rolling mushroom as it swept through the encircling horde, continuously shooting and knocking down the approaching zombies. However, whether it was the live audience or the viewers in front of the terminals, not a single person could figure out how Song Ke was doing it.
How was she killing the zombies? What was happening under the umbrella?
No way, nothing is visible at all!
God, this is so frustrating!
“Dammit, I’m not watching this anymore!”
“Is this person doing it on purpose? Who does this?”
“Give me a refund!”
Some people grumbled and demanded refunds with their mouths, but their bodies were honest, taking another step forward and squeezing to get a better look. They were unwilling to give up, refusing to believe that they couldn’t see anything at all.
On the high-altitude floating screen, V587’s support rate was slowly rising: 53%… 56%… 59%… It finally settled at 59% and remained unchanged for several seconds. Then, just like numerous disgruntled spectators, suddenly, the number jumped up to 61%!
She crossed the threshold!
After Song Ke dispatched the last zombie, she cleaned her short sword, sheathed it back into the umbrella handle, and snapped the umbrella shut. The umbrella tip pointed downward, and dark, tainted blood continuously dripped.
The arena was now littered with corpses, and she stood alone, like a silent reaper.
The venue fell silent for a moment, only to erupt when the “Challenge Successful” notification sounded. Everyone finally realized what had happened – they hadn’t seen anything, but this person had advanced? The audience was furious.
“Is this a joke? Who cast that stupid vote?”
“Refund! Give us our money back!”
“I paid to watch nothing!”
Yulica shouted loudly, “Quiet! Quiet!” several times but still couldn’t calm the restless audience.
Just when the situation was about to spiral out of control, three deep bell tolls rang out, and a spotlight shone down from above the Sycara Theater. Then, a figure with radiant golden hair appeared once again.
“I… Ilya.”
The irritable audience witnessed the arrival of a deity, behaving like pets calmed by their master, instantly retracting their claws and falling silent.
Yulica and the other AI on site lowered their heads, displaying a respectful posture.
Ilya was dressed casually today, still in pure white. Although his attire seemed relaxed, his nobility remained evident. His gaze swept across the arena, not lingering on Song Ke or paying any attention to the recent troublemakers. It was as if this were just an ordinary match.
“I seem to have lost track. How many rounds is this today?”
“Round 178! It’s the 178th round! I’ve watched every single match, Ilya!!” A fervent fan shouted, her voice trembling.
“Round 178… Another contestant has advanced tonight.”
No one dared to voice objections. Ilya had declared that Song Ke had advanced. Who would dare to step forward and demand refunds now?
Ilya took two steps forward, and his crystalline, translucent eyes suddenly radiated dazzling ripples.
“The weather is quite pleasant today, so I’ve decided to add some chips to this grand event.”
All eyes turned expectantly toward the phantom figure.
“The total champion of the Throne Race, in addition to the existing rewards, also gets a chance to make a wish to me,” Ilya said, his perfect face revealing a casual smile. “Whether you want a lot of money, immense power, a stronger ability, or even the qualification for District B, whatever your wish may be, Ilya can fulfill it.”
The audience at the venue hadn’t reacted much, but countless awakeners who followed the Throne Race were standing in shock.
—This was a promise made by the highest ruler of C72 District.
Ilya spread his hands, and dazzling starlight radiated from his fingertips. “Ferrara, welcome all the brave.”
“Only through fire and thorns can a true crown of kings be forged.”
This statement pushed the excitement surrounding the Throne Race to an unparalleled height!
The entire Ferrara trembled.
…
After the competition ended, Song Ke left through the dim player’s tunnel. As she approached the exit, she saw a slender figure leaning against the tunnel wall.
The person turned slowly upon hearing footsteps, with their dazzling golden hair, unmatched glassy eyes, and ethereal phantom.
It was Ilya. Hadn’t he left? Why was he here?
Ilya gazed at Song Ke as she approached slowly.
Song Ke’s mood suddenly became a bit nervous. She had never interacted with an AI of Ilya’s caliber before. Should she say hello, or would it be better to just walk away?
In the end, Song Ke stopped and stuttered, “D-Do you… have something?”
Ilya didn’t speak but observed her without blinking, as if she were an interesting toy.
Song Ke felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze and shifted her toes forward slightly.
Unexpectedly, Ilya spoke, “You chose Ferrara.”
Song Ke: “Huh?”
He nodded, “I understand.”
Song Ke: “What?”
Ilya smiled, “It’s just as I imagined.”
Song Ke: “Where? What do you mean?”
After saying this, Ilya’s figure gradually faded, eventually disappearing into the tunnel.
Only his faint, lingering words remained in the air.
“—You and I, aren’t we the same?”
Song Ke was utterly perplexed.
I’m not an artificial intelligence. How could we be the same?
