You may be lifeless, but you must not be useless.

Although Baal had gotten carried away, he didn’t forget to acknowledge Chen Guan’s uniqueness.

Chen Guan was indeed the most unpredictable human he had ever encountered.

On the other side, after repeated attempts ended in failure, Yin Tianzheng and the Square-Faced Man had no choice but to give up.

“I’ll handle things outside. Before I fall, no person or object will be able to come out from inside, and no one will be able to enter and disturb you.”

That was Yin Tianzheng’s promise.

Chen Guan gave Yin Tianzheng a slight nod, then took the first step into the darkness.

An Changqing, Long Ao, and Hong Yuan followed close behind.

Liu Feiyu hesitated for a moment before gritting his teeth and going in as well. Liu Chengjun walked at the very back of the group.

The instant the Liu brothers stepped into the theater—

Boom!

The two heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind them with a deep, thunderous crash, completely cutting off the inside from the outside.

Everyone immediately went on guard, but the attack they had expected never came.

The next second—

Snap.

A blinding spotlight shone down from above, illuminating the stage at the very center of the theater.

Liu Xiao was nowhere to be seen.

The empty stage held only one thing: a magnificent, antique throne.

Resting silently atop it was an exquisite golden hourglass.

“Welcome, everyone, to my theater.”

This time, Liu Xiao’s voice came from all directions, echoing directly through everyone’s minds.

“Now, the game begins.”

“The rules are simple.”

The hourglass on the stage flipped over by itself, and the sand at the top began to trickle down slowly.

“Find me before all the sand runs out.”

His voice paused, and the amusement in his tone grew even more pronounced.

“Otherwise… I can’t guarantee what will happen.”

“Oh, right. Here’s a little friendly tip for free.”

Liu Xiao drew out the last words, as if savoring the tension that had seized everyone.

“One of you… isn’t actually an ally.”

The moment those words fell, an undercurrent of suspicion surged among the group.

In the darkness, An Changqing, Long Ao, and Hong Yuan instinctively turned their wary gazes toward Liu Feiyu and Liu Chengjun beside them.

Liu Feiyu’s body tensed at once, and Liu Chengjun’s expression darkened as well.

The two brothers knew that Liu Xiao was deliberately trying to drive a wedge through their fragile alliance. The others knew each other inside and out, but the brothers were different.

Just as the undercurrent of suspicion began to swell, Baal’s gleeful, troublemaking laughter rang out in Chen Guan’s mind.

“Heh heh heh, this kid’s got some style.”

Baal’s voice was lazy and full of schadenfreude.

“When he says one of you isn’t an ally, he doesn’t mean that water-element brat beside you, nor that self-important merchant.”

“He means you, my contracted one.”

Chen Guan kept his eyes fixed on the darkness. He had already guessed as much.

From the moment Liu Xiao had exposed himself by sending Su Qing, he had understood that he had gone from being a bystander to becoming the protagonist of this play.

Baal’s existence was something Liu Xiao had probably guessed as well.

Rumble—

The ground beneath their feet shook violently, and the entire theater seemed to come alive.

“What’s happening?” Long Ao growled, steadying himself as every muscle in his body tensed and he assumed a battle stance.

“Everyone, be careful!” An Changqing warned calmly, his hand closing around the hilt of the sword at his waist.

In the darkness beyond their sight, the walls twisted and changed shape. Every seat in the audience silently retracted into the floor, while the smooth ground split open. Countless cold walls rose from below.

Within a matter of seconds, the entire interior of the theater had been completely transformed into a complicated and bizarre maze.

The shaking stopped, and Liu Xiao’s voice echoed through every corner of the maze.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. Our first little activity is about to begin.”

“The name of this activity is: The Real Heartbeat.”

“Deep within this maze, I’ve hidden a gift for you.”

Liu Xiao’s voice carried a malicious laugh.

“But be warned: while searching for this gift, you’ll encounter many android dolls I’ve painstakingly made.”

“Each of them has been fitted with the latest model of bomb, and they perfectly imitate a living person’s heartbeat.”

“Choose the wrong one and—boom!”

He imitated the sound of an explosion, behaving like a completely different person from the Liu Xiao they normally knew.

“You’ll be blown to pieces along with the doll. Only by finding the real heartbeat—in other words, me—will you be safe.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the silhouettes of dozens of figures appeared in the maze, each glowing with a faint red light.

Every red glow pulsed at a steady rhythm, imitating the beating of a heart.

They were scattered throughout the maze, their forms flickering indistinctly, impossible to tell apart.

“Damn it!”

Hong Yuan cursed under her breath. The situation gave her a headache.

She had assumed this would be a combat challenge. Who would have thought it would be a game of hide-and-seek?

She hated this kind of game most of all.

An Changqing tried to probe the area with his mental power, only to discover that every red glow carried a similar energy signature. There was no way to distinguish them.

Consumed by anger, Liu Chengjun slammed his fist into the wall beside him. His fire-based ability erupted, but it left behind only a faint scorched mark.

There was something strange about these walls.

His brows furrowed, and a trace of regret surfaced in his heart.

He shouldn’t have risked coming inside. Since his attack couldn’t even damage the walls, the others would probably fare no better.

In other words, they could only follow Liu Xiao’s rules and let him lead them around by the nose.

Just as everyone stood helpless, wary of making a wrong move, Chen Guan’s vision quietly changed.

In his perception, the flickering red lights were no longer mere silhouettes.

The vast majority of those lights contained nothing but icy emptiness and death, devoid of all emotion.

There was only one exception.

Deep in the maze, a faintly dancing flame flickered.

It was a true human soul-flame, complete with the full spectrum of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

“You see it, don’t you, kid?”

Baal’s voice rang out again, carrying a hint of commentary.

“They’re all shoddy creations molded from Wailing Soul Soil. What garbage. What a waste of perfectly good materials. Still, that genuine soul-flame seems to have been contaminated by Astaroth’s power as well.”

Ever since Baal had begun paying attention to Chen Guan, he had discovered that there was never a shortage of entertainment in his day-to-day life.

When had other demon gods ever gone out of their way to provide him with such amusement?

At first, he had thought Chen Guan was merely an immature student who could never stir up much trouble. But now, Baal had to admit that he had still been too young.

Even a small place like Huaqing could conceal countless powerful figures.

You can die, but you can’t be boring.

Heh heh heh. This was truly too much fun.

Chen Guan understood.

Just as he was about to alert the others—

Boom!

The walls of the maze began shifting again.

Two thick walls rushed toward each other from both sides, closing in so quickly that no one had time to react.

“Look out!”

An Changqing shouted and shoved Hong Yuan out of the way.

The walls slammed together with a deafening crash, splitting the group that had been gathered together into two halves.