Chapter 102: The Next Day, Ruining One’s Reputation, Big Bo Q

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PS: Christmas Eve... On the day of Liang Yi’s birthday, I still have to rush to finish my thesis proposal, and I have classes tomorrow. Let me just write one word for now: “miserable”...

“The next day, the exile deliberation council is about to begin. The rules remain the same as on the first day. Timing starts now.”

“What’s going on?” Everyone was scrutinizing the other candidates’ faces, trying to find some clue, but apart from puzzled expressions, they gained nothing.

“Hmph! As expected.” Musashi muttered quietly, closing his one eye with an air of noble coldness, his expression unfathomable.

No one objected to the arrogant Kuroda being exiled—shooting the bird that sticks its head out, after all.

However, considering the second-highest number of votes, Hao Ren was in serious danger. Tomba’s vote was predictable, and Saya’s vote fell within the realm of love-hate rivalry.

The others’ votes were scattered, mostly cast on instinct.

Ai’s vote, of course, was purely out of male jealousy—a meaningless wild shot.

But this blind sniping and blind guarding was quite solid; remarkably, there were no casualties during the first night besides the first.

Hao Ren admired the tacit understanding among those few. He wondered who was so conspicuous as to receive the double attention of both assassins and hunters.

“Kuroenryu, I think you must be the assassin,” Tomba suddenly spoke, aiming directly at Hao Ren.

“Oh? Mr. Tomba, care to explain your reasoning?” Hao Ren remained completely calm, wearing an expression that seemed to say this was inevitable.

“Hehe, no particular reason. You’re a newcomer, and you didn’t say a word on the first day. I think there’s a high chance the warden assigned you the assassin role. What do you all think?” With just a few words, Tomba pushed Hao Ren into the spotlight.

With no obvious clues pointing to anyone, Tomba’s misleading words, while recognized as such, involuntarily directed others’ thoughts that way.

After all, if suspicion isn’t on oneself, why care? If they could take out such a strong foe, wouldn’t that be killing two birds with one stone?

Hao Ren’s expression was composed, showing no panic despite the focused attacks, not even offering verbal rebuttal.

To some, his attitude was tantamount to tacit admission.

“Wait, I have something to say,” Kazemaru, who had been recording throughout the first day, interrupted with his shiny bald head.

As all eyes turned to him, Kazemaru’s cheeks flushed red, looking somewhat excited.

“Ahem, as a ninja descendant, one must not get excited by others’ attention. Ninja are shadows—shadows, shadows,” Kazemaru mumbled to himself, self-hypnotizing.

Regaining his composure, Kazemaru picked up his notebook and began to speak earnestly.

“Based on my observations, Tomba seems to have a grudge against candidate number 213. They have exchanged glances multiple times, all ending with Tomba’s defeat. So, Tomba holds a grudge and has been targeting 213. Everyone here should know Tomba’s character, tsk tsk.” Kazemaru smirked and left that statement hanging.

“Kazemaru! Don’t slander me! If you say I have bad character, bring proof!” Tomba retorted angrily, as if deeply wronged.

“Do you remember the long-haired man you tricked into being the mother snake decoy during last year’s exam when retrieving the Wind Scale Serpent’s egg?” Kazemaru was unfazed.

“Long-haired man? Could that be...?” Tomba was startled, his mind recalling some buried memories.

Kazemaru also drifted into recollection.

Back then, the pink-cheeked rookie Kazemaru, hiding the fact from his elder brother Hanzo, wore a fake long black wig to participate in the hunter exam.

In the third stage test, each person had to acquire an egg from a Wind Scale Serpent living on the Gale Grassland, or lose qualification.

The Wind Scale Serpent is second only to the Horn Scale Bear in rarity. Though over a thousand still exist, their combat ability is nearly on par with the Horn Scale Bear, and they are social creatures.

At that time, Kazemaru and Tomba were hiding in the giant mammoth dung. Tomba treacherously kicked Kazemaru out. If it weren’t for Kazemaru’s agility, he would have become serpent excrement.

It’s worth mentioning that despite fleeing swiftly, that fake wig stayed firmly in place—the effects of the treatment were impressive.

Kazemaru had noted this grudge.

“Still want to argue?” Kazemaru gave a sarcastic smile—ninjas must learn to hide their emotions.

Stay calm, stay calm.

Realizing he had indeed tricked someone, Tomba was at a loss for words.

“Also, when candidate 213 was assigned their identity, they made a slight fist with their right hand. From my judgment, this indicates assignment to the populous merchant faction, which has a higher chance of victory. Therefore, I believe 213 is not the assassin.” Kazemaru concluded confidently, giving Hao Ren the uneasy feeling he might have bribed him.

“So, you’re implying Mr. Tomba is the assassin?” Makoto Ito’s gaze toward Tomba grew hostile. If this guy wasn’t a great actor, he was probably a sneaky merchant-type.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Kazemaru waved his hand.

His response stunned everyone. The previous barrage seemed aimed at Tomba, but now it appeared unrelated, leaving everyone confused.

“I just don’t want infighting among teammates. Regardless, our goal is to root out the assassin. Personal grudges should be kept out of the game—it only clouds judgment.”

Kazemaru’s analysis made some sense. Except for Tomba, everyone wanted to finish the game and proceed to the next test, so it was best to set aside personal conflicts for now.

Hearing Kazemaru’s explanation, Tomba temporarily suppressed his anger toward Hao Ren.

He still wanted to continue testing, watching more newcomers lose their qualifications.

“Well, Kazemaru, who do you currently suspect the most?” Perhaps due to their shared baldness, Shaolin looked at Kazemaru with sparkling eyes.

“I can’t draw a conclusion yet. Everyone’s psychological resilience is excellent; there are hardly any cracks on their faces. If I made rash comments, it would mislead. So, trust your instincts.” Kazemaru cast a meaningful glance at Shaolin.

This shiny bald head had perfectly inherited his elder brother’s loquacious traits and temporarily became an important voice among the eight.

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“Time’s up! The second day’s exile deliberation session is over. Candidates, please choose one person you want to exile. Begin selecting.”

Choosing solely on instinct seemed even harder.

Hao Ren glanced at Saya and Tomba, then pressed the button based on his intuition.

“Voting ends. Now announcing each person’s vote results.”

Yano’s choice: No. 600 Saya.

Tomba’s choice: No. 527 Shaolin.

Musashi’s choice: No. 600 Saya.

Kuroenryu’s choice: No. 7 Yano.

Kazemaru’s choice: No. 527 Shaolin.

Makoto Ito’s choice: No. 527 Shaolin.

Shaolin’s choice: No. 16 Tomba.

Saya’s choice: No. 106 Musashi.

“I’m just a regular merchant, you’ve got it wrong!” The little bald head was stunned. He never expected to be targeted like this.

Leaving that remark, he was exiled in the same manner.

Kazemaru randomly picked a candidate to test the waters; Tomba seemed to have the same mindset. Only Makoto Ito, still jealous, voted against Shaolin.

This unknown boy was thus caught in the crossfire.

“The second night begins. Nighttime activity rules remain the same. Please press the buttons at hand.”

The lights dimmed.

As Hao Ren’s vision darkened, he felt weightlessness and was then placed in a confinement room with only a display screen on the wall.

“The night has passed. No. 16 Tomba and No. 213 Kuroenryu were killed simultaneously.”

“The third day is about to begin.”

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