Chapter Twelve: The Holiday Villa

“Xin Ling died inside this villa. They say she came with friends for a holiday, drank too much, and passed away...” Xiao Liang rattled off a string of details.

Su Man sorted through the information in her mind, summarizing the key points for him.

First, Xin Ling was the tenant of this house; she was the party named in the rental contract Su Man had seen earlier. That much she already knew.

Second, Xin Ling didn’t live here permanently, but every month she’d spend a few days here to unwind, mostly alone.

Third, when the incident occurred, Xin Ling was accompanied by several close friends. In the end, those friends paid some compensation, and the case was closed.

Fourth—and most important in Su Man’s view—Xiao Liang said he had seen Xin Ling’s body when it was carried away. The marks on the corpse were far from what could be explained away as just alcohol-related, but later, when her family received a large sum of money, the matter was quietly swept under the rug.

Xin Ling's friends—Zhou Bin, Hu Kan, Aya, Hu Meili, and those three men—could be identified, since Su Man had seen photos of Xin Ling with them while searching earlier. But as for herself, Su Man was unsure whether she counted as one of Xin Ling’s friends—she wasn’t in any of the photos.

Not only her, but the five people who arrived yesterday—none of them had any photographic evidence linking them to Xin Ling.

Why did Xin Ling invite them here? Why gather them all together? Was she hoping to watch them turn on each other? So far, Su Man hadn’t seen any particularly brutal or irrational behavior.

“I’ve told you so much—shouldn’t you tell me something in return?” Xiao Liang looked at Su Man, who had lapsed into silence after listening, and pressed her anxiously, “Come on, it’s only fair. That’s the unspoken rule.”

Su Man glanced at him. “What happens if I don’t follow the rule?”

“Well… nothing really, but it’d make you unethical, and if people found out, no one would want to work with you in the future. Most people wouldn’t risk it.” Xiao Liang hadn’t expected her answer and stared, wide-eyed, stammering.

Morality? She didn’t possess such a thing.

But weighing the benefits, she decided to share a little with Xiao Liang. Two people working together would always be quicker than one alone.

“I don’t know exactly who killed Xin Ling, but you’d do well to focus your attention on those who came with you yesterday.”

After all, most of those who came with her yesterday were already dead.

Xiao Liang said nothing.

Su Man left the room and began searching for the nearest resurrection card once more.

The monsters and demons were becoming more numerous; only the resurrection cards remained reliable.

What surprised her was that, while wandering the villa yesterday, she’d spotted plenty of glowing points. But after just one night, they seemed to have vanished. She remembered seeing a glowing point in a particular room, but there had been sounds inside so she’d decided to check in daylight. Now, standing at the door, the glow was gone.

Her talent description had clearly said it would guide her toward the closest resurrection card—could the card have grown legs and run off?

She pressed herself carefully against the door, listening. Nothing unusual could be heard, but quiet didn’t mean safe. On the contrary, the disappearance of the glowing point made her feel uneasy.

What if the card she still held was the only one left?

She didn’t know what had happened, but for now, unless absolutely necessary, she couldn’t afford to die again.

She dismissed the idea of investigating that room for now and continued her search, wanting to see how many glowing points still remained.

But before she could find any, she passed by the room where Skinny Monkey and his group stayed.

Truth be told, she hadn’t paid attention to which room they occupied, but Fatty’s voice was distinctive—penetrating, too. With the door only half-shut, she couldn’t help but overhear.

Inside came peals of wild laughter. Su Man’s sharp ears caught them mention Xin Ling’s name, though it was quickly drowned out by a cough.

Clearly, something was happening in there.

And that man—how was he now?

Su Man edged closer, peering through the gap in the door.

A strong, metallic scent of blood hit her. The man who’d been dragged away by Fatty and his friends now lay on the floor like a discarded rag. From afar, the red stained the ground—it was impossible to tell whether he was dead or alive.

Skinny Monkey, still grinning, stepped forward and kicked him again. The ugliness of human nature was magnified endlessly in this cramped room.

His face was twisted with jealousy. “That face of yours is really an eyesore. Why should people like you get forgiven for everything just because of your looks? What would happen if that face were slashed and ruined? Would anyone still like you?”

As he spoke, Skinny Monkey actually pulled out a knife from somewhere and waved it in front of the man.

But the man showed no reaction throughout, as if he were already dead.

“Wait, Skinny Monkey, bringing him back wasn’t for you to toy with like this,” came that sharp, unmistakable voice. Su Man knew it was Fatty speaking.

Perhaps because he was among his own group, Fatty had shed his timidity, exuding a commanding arrogance.

“Heh, Fatty, I knew you’d want to play your way. What do you suggest?”

No one spoke again, but Su Man saw them drag the man to Fatty’s feet like a dead pig.

Their backs were to her, but from their crude, snickering laughter, Su Man could imagine exactly what was about to happen.

The scene before her overlapped strangely with her own past experiences.

Back then, when she was pursued by creditors and her family had no money, they’d cornered her just the same. The loathsome faces of those men were still etched in her memory. If someone hadn’t appeared suddenly to save her…

Memory and reality blurred. Her body trembled involuntarily, a surge of pure rage, her gaze toward those in the room poisoned, unspeakable fury rising in her chest.

Beyond that, a stifling anger churned in her mind—a simple truth: one may be killed, but never humiliated. She wished everyone understood that!

“Stop right now! I’ll count to three. If no one stops, I won’t hesitate to castrate him!” Su Man kicked the door open, brows drawn in anger, every inch of her radiating hostility as she brandished her knife at everyone in the room.

The group inside was stunned, staring at Su Man as if someone had pressed pause. She looked, at that moment, utterly unapproachable—so fierce it seemed the murderous glare in her eyes could burn with crimson fire.

“Get away from him. Don’t make me repeat myself!”