Nine Chapters of Strange Cases

Chapter 276 Something's Wrong
At that moment, all four of them suddenly moved at the same time.

Zhou Zhao glanced at the beauty opposite him and the one wearing a bamboo hat, then suddenly turned and lunged towards the white-robed young man on his right.

Almost simultaneously, the sharp blades in the hands of the beautiful woman in the opposite corner and the strange man in the straw hat arrived in front of the man in the white robe.

The man in white robes stared wide-eyed in disbelief. He leaped up like a monkey and climbed straight to the top of the cage.

"Stop! Who said that only one of us four can get out of here alive?"

Just as the second confrontation between the four was about to take place, Zhou Zhao suddenly shouted.

“I don’t remember who I am, nor do I know you, but the two of you, upon seeing each other, immediately and in perfect unison, killed the white-robed young man. Don’t you think that’s suspicious? Furthermore, young man in the bamboo hat, I can’t even see your eyes, so how could I know that you would follow my orders?”
"You, the beauty diagonally opposite, are closest to the young man in white. When we stab him, our backs will be wide open. If the young man in the bamboo hat wants to kill us both first..."

The remaining three paused, their killing moves ceasing.

The four of them immediately retreated to their respective corners without saying a word.

This is really not right, Zhou Zhao thought.

She stared intently at the beautiful woman opposite her and the strange man in the straw hat. "This must be the result of years of fighting synergy. We should have known each other for many years, but we don't know each other at all. This is obviously very strange."

As she spoke, she glanced at the white-robed man with the protruding legs, whose face looked particularly pale.

Clearly, he had no way to break free from the situation where the three of them attacked him simultaneously, trying to kill him first.

"You asked yourself earlier, why did you stab yourself? You didn't slit your throat or stab your heart; you precisely avoided vital organs. What does that say?"

The man in the white robe glanced at the wound he had poked himself in. "It means I don't want to die."

The four of them each occupied a corner. Although they were all thinking along with Zhou Zhao's words, they were all extremely vigilant, fearing that one of them might suddenly break the rules and hurt someone.

Just then, the sound of the flute suddenly changed, becoming more urgent.

Zhou Zhao felt as if the blood in his body was boiling, rushing straight to his head. Kill them, kill them, kill them and you'll live. Zhou Zhao's hand holding the cyan dagger trembled, and the four men, unable to control themselves, simultaneously stabbed towards the center.

The same situation occurred the instant the weapons clashed.

It was still three against one, and this time the man in the white robe couldn't avoid it at all.

"Don't kill him!"

Just when the white-robed man thought he was doomed, Zhou Zhao spoke again, and three sharp blades pierced through his robes at the same time, but he felt no pain. He looked down and saw that a sword, a knife, and a dagger—three different weapons—had all pierced his robes without harming him in the slightest.

The four of them suddenly realized something was wrong.

Zhou Zhao's expression hardened. "Don't listen to the flute music. It's obvious we're being controlled by that sound. The three of us are definitely comrades-in-arms."

As soon as Zhou Zhao finished speaking, the four of them sprang away and returned to their respective corners of the cages, instinctively protecting their minds and trying to avoid listening to the flute music.

“As for you,” Zhou Zhao looked at the young man in white robes, “you are very familiar with killing, so you can avoid vital organs with every stab. Even if you stab yourself thirty-eight times, it will only be a minor injury. You don’t want to die, you want to feel pain.”

You want to use pain to resist being controlled.

The sound of the xiao flute rang out again, this time like the wailing of a hundred ghosts, the sound urgent and shrill.

Zhou Zhao felt her breathing quicken. Even without the bronze mirror, she could sense that her eyes were bloodshot, her expression ferocious like a demon emerging from hell, her bloodlust making her feel like a wild beast wanting to tear everyone apart. Zhou Zhao bit her lip hard, and blood gushed out instantly.

She looked at the handsome man across the corner. She wasn't Nuwa who could mold clay figures. How could there be a beauty in this world whose hair grew according to her wishes?

Although she had no memory, she didn't know her own name, where she came from, or what she was doing there.

But she understood one thing: she would never like someone who wanted to kill her.

Even if someone slaps her, she will retaliate fiercely; that's what fairness is.

Unless, she actually liked the person in front of her from the start.

She liked him very much. It wasn't that the person was born to suit her tastes, but rather that he was the one she loved.

Zhou Zhao was looking at the person opposite her, and the person opposite her was also looking at her. Suddenly, their hands moved at the same time, and the sharp blades in their hands flew towards the direction from which the sound of the flute came like arrows released from a bow.

Clearly, they were in a cage, underground, while the sound of the flute came from outside, as if someone was standing on the moon transmitting the sound.

How could a weapon possibly penetrate the cage, pierce the ground, and then directly strike the flute player?

Their conflict is irreconcilable.

Without weapons, defeat is almost certain.

But the two of them still simultaneously and without hesitation threw out their sharp blades. The young man in the white robe stared blankly at them, his dagger dripping with blood—all his own blood.

He looked at his bright red hands.

He dared not do that, dared not swing his knife at that figure; he only dared to stab himself with the blade.

Should he have brandished his knife too?
As he was thinking, he looked up and his pupils suddenly contracted. The dagger and longsword flew straight out, passing through the cage and across the ground, and disappeared just like that. Then he heard a few buzzing vibrations. He knew that this was the buzzing sound produced by the longsword piercing into a hard object.

The sound of the xiao (vertical bamboo flute) stopped.

Suddenly, the scene changed.

Zhou Zhao stared intently. It seemed that the Northern Army, which Su Changying had arranged to surround the mountain, had searched the forest to the top of the mountain according to his pre-arranged orders. However, they were all affected by the sound of the flute, and now they were engaged in a fierce battle.

The sound stopped, and they all looked at each other, regaining their senses.

Her dagger and Su Changying's longsword both pierced the screen wall, causing it to shatter.

The wailing and howling of ghosts still echoed in my ears, but it was no longer the same tune that could control people's hearts.

The eight Taoist sword formations that had blocked their way at the gate were routed by the overwhelming numbers of Northern Army soldiers, who charged like wild boars. She also saw two Taoist corpses on the ground. Young Master Yu and the others had already disappeared.

Zhou Zhao withdrew her gaze. She, Su Changying, and A Huang were each leaning against a pillar, while in front of another pillar stood a white-robed man covered in blood.

It was the same person who had fallen from the sky and nearly hit her earlier.

"Jingyi".

A look of surprise flashed across Zhou Zhao's eyes. She lowered her voice and called out.