Even though Fu Liu was also poisoned, his strength was indeed draining as well.
However, it seemed this stamina loss wasn't percentage-based but a fixed value; compared to Bai Ci, he still looked as if nothing was wrong.
Fu Liu squatted down as well, resting his chin in his hand and tilting his head as if thinking about something. After a few seconds, he began to clap for himself.
“Ah, I've got it. Come to think of it, people like you, darling, are the ones who deserve to survive the most. Whether you live in the light or in the gutters, you have quite a unique flavor either way.”
The antidote worked quickly. Bai Ci felt her strength gradually returning, but she was still quite weak, so she refrained from making any rash moves, waiting to see what Fu Liu would do.
“Darling, I've made up my mind,” Fu Liu said. Surprisingly, Bai Ci detected a hint of resolve in his voice.
Bai Ci slowly pulled out the antidote needle, discreetly hiding the empty syringe behind her back. She looked up at him, a look of confusion on her face. “What?”
She watched as Fu Liu raised his hand and slowly touched the white clown mask on his face.
His movements were very gentle, his fingertips lightly tracing the edges of the mask as if soothing it, before his hand gradually shifted to grip it tightly.
In the next second, he suddenly exerted force, violently tearing down the hand gripping the mask.
Rip—
In truth, the action itself didn't make much noise; it was Bai Ci, witnessing this scene, who supplied the sound effect in her mind to ease her own terror.
With a faint tearing sound accompanied by a wet, squelching noise of mangled flesh, the mask was ripped off by Fu Liu.
Bai Ci frowned. Once the initial wave of fear passed, she felt a sudden urge to vomit.
The white clown mask had actually grown into Fu Liu's flesh. He had to pull with immense force, tearing the skin and flesh from his face, to remove the mask in its entirety.
On his bloody, mangled face, fresh blood ran down, dripping onto the floor with a steady drip, drip.
There was not a single trace of pain on Fu Liu's face. Judging by the twitching of his facial muscles, Bai Ci could tell he was smiling.
Holding the torn, flesh-covered mask in his hand, he looked at Bai Ci and said, “You become me.”
Before his voice could even fade, he shifted his grip and slammed the bloody mask directly onto Bai Ci's face.
Bai Ci rolled to the side, scrambling to her feet in a desperate bid to run out of the room.
But something grabbed her ankle at that exact moment. The grip was powerful, instantly dragging her down.
She fell face-first onto the floor, nearly landing right in the patch of nails she had scattered near the entrance.
Fu Liu pinned her down by the back of her neck, lifting her up, and forced the mask onto her face without giving her any room to resist.
The flesh on the inside of the mask was warm and sticky, carrying a pungent, metallic stench of blood that made Bai Ci's stomach churn.
But that wasn't all. She could clearly feel the flesh on the inner side of the mask slowly squirming.
It felt as if countless tiny insects were burrowing through her pores, digging their way into her facial tissue bit by bit.
Once the mask was on her, Fu Liu released his hold on her.
Bai Ci immediately raised her hands to tear the mask off, but the moment she exerted force, a sharp, searing pain shot through her face.
Her skin felt as though it had already fused with the mask. If she forced it off, she would have to rip away chunks of her own flesh.
“Fu Liu, take this mask off!” Bai Ci's voice trembled slightly, not just from fear, but from a deep, rising anger.
Fu Liu was no longer smiling, his tone turning airy and detached. “I can't do that. It seems my mask really likes you.”
“Besides, if you take it off, you'll die from the poison. Better to live a miserable life than to die, right? Maybe things will turn around in the future. That's what I've always believed. So, darling, just wear it like a good girl.”
Hearing this, a sudden realization flashed through Bai Ci's mind. She caught the thread of inspiration, and her anger gradually subsided.
“If you give the mask to me, what happens to you?”
Fu Liu froze. This reaction was entirely wrong, wasn't it?
When facing a disgusting villain, she should be angry, hateful, and resentful. She shouldn't be this calm—especially not with a hint of concern hidden within that calmness.
What on earth was going on inside this woman's head?
Just as I thought.
Bai Ci understood. Gritting her teeth, she steeled her resolve. Ignoring the excruciating pain in her face, she grabbed the edges of the mask with both hands and ripped it off with all her might.
Blood instantly welled up from her face, pouring down and staining her collar crimson.
Before Fu Liu could recover from his shock, Bai Ci slammed the mask back onto his face.
But unlike when Fu Liu had forced the mask onto her, the moment Bai Ci let go, the mask failed to stick to his face and fell to the floor with a clatter.
“Why won't it stick anymore?” Bai Ci asked.
Fu Liu stared at her, the tension and fear in his eyes shifting to astonishment. He tilted his head slightly and brought up something else entirely.
“By now, the poison should have run its course in your body, just like this.”
Fu Liu raised his hand, accurately touching the only patch of skin left intact on his face.
It was near his eye, where his signature tear mole was preserved.
Right now, this patch of skin was slowly turning purple—a clear sign that the poison was taking effect.
Finally, the poison's erosion of Fu Liu's body reached the threshold where his stamina could no longer resist it, and his symptoms began to show clearly.
Fu Liu's gaze gradually grew vacant. The hands that had pinned Bai Ci down so easily just moments ago now struggled to even lift themselves.
Watching the toxin take its toll on him, Bai Ci spoke softly, “The reason it didn't take effect on me is because I had an antidote.”
Fu Liu was stunned for a moment, then the muscles at the corner of his mouth twitched upward as he said with a hint of relief, “Ah, it seems I'm going to die.”
“Not a bad way to go. You must remember that you killed me with your own hands. That will surely leave a lasting impression on you for the rest of your life.”
For a soul trapped in this killing game for nearly ten rounds, his mind had long been tainted by bloodshed. His thoughts and emotional shifts were far more complex and subtle than what he showed on the surface.
But Bai Ci had no intention of delving into Fu Liu's inner world.
She didn't regret striking him down. Her intent to kill in that moment had been real, and whatever recompense he tried to offer couldn't erase what had happened.
The only person she truly felt sorry to was that one individual...
“It certainly is memorable. You're the first former fiancé I've killed with my own hands.”
“Mhm, remember me just like that...” Fu Liu's voice grew weaker, his gaze turning more and more vacant. But right then, as if suddenly realizing something, his eyes widened slightly. “Wait, do you actually have a lot of former fiancés?”
Upon hearing this, a flicker of guilt flashed across Bai Ci's face before being replaced by sheer speechlessness. She remained silent.
“You absolute player.”
Rate on N.U.
