TDU Chapter 166: Significance of Rope
Chapter 166 Significance of Rope
"Su Shan, you’re staking it all on one throw, and this will harm you," Qi Xia said. "When devising tactics, it’s always best to consider the situation from your opponent’s perspective."
"Is that so?" Su Shan replied coolly. "Are you offering me a lesson in strategy now?"
Inside the glass room, a sharp, crisp sound echoed as two bricks dropped from the ceiling simultaneously.
For the first time, Doctor Zhao spotted something he could actually use for defense. He rushed forward and snatched up the bricks. However, before he could fully steady himself, a shadow loomed overhead. Instinctively, he raised one arm to shield himself just as the object came flying toward him.
The impact struck him like a hammer, sending him stumbling several steps backward before he collapsed onto the ground.
Zi Chen’s bloodshot eyes blazed with fury as he straddled Doctor Zhao, raising the brick high before slamming it down with brutal force.
Doctor Zhao panicked, hurling his own brick aside and using his arms to shield his head. Blow after blow rained down, each impact reverberating through his bones. Pain surged through his limbs, and for the first time in his life, he felt the terrifying certainty that something might have snapped.
"AHHH!" Doctor Zhao’s cries turned frantic. "Murder! Murder!"
Zi Chen, like a man possessed, kept smashing the brick, his strikes wild and relentless. Doctor Zhao’s screams quickly crumbled into incoherent sobs, tears streaming down his face as he curled up in desperation.
Suddenly, the voice of Terrestrial Chicken echoed through the air, calm and indifferent. "Time is up, please cease all actions."
Zi Chen froze for a moment, staring down at the pitiful man beneath him. Doctor Zhao lay trembling, his face smeared with blood, eyes swollen, and nose bleeding profusely. Though he had managed to shield his head, the rest of his face bore the brunt of the assault.
"You..." Zi Chen opened his mouth as if to speak but swallowed his words, his rage dissipating into a heavy silence. He slowly rose to his feet, gripping the bloodied brick before tossing it aside.
Qi Xia leaned back slightly and exhaled, a faint trace of disappointment flickering in his eyes. This outcome was inevitable. With identical cards played, Doctor Zhao’s loss had been a foregone conclusion.
While Qi Xia mulled over the implications, Terrestrial Chicken’s voice rang out through the intercom. "Please discard your props immediately."
Qi Xia was stunned and turned his head to look. Doctor Zhao lay sprawled on the ground, groaning as though pain coursed through his entire body. He showed no intention of picking up the brick.
"Hey..." Qi Xia slowly stood up, walked to the glass wall, and tapped it lightly. "Doctor Zhao, are you alright? You need to discard that prop immediately."
"Lǎozǐ quits..." Doctor Zhao's muffled voice drifted from within the glass room. "You've been making a fool of me. If this keeps up, I'm going to die..."
"I am not making a fool of you," Qi Xia said firmly. "If you give up now, we’ll both end up dead."
He understood that the most challenging aspect of this game was the near-total lack of communication between the {Strategist} and the {Combatant}. Both had to operate with their own independent tactics, yet still cooperate seamlessly.
The moment a rift formed between them, survival became impossible.
"May the {Strategist} step away from the glass," Terrestrial Chicken's cold voice rang out.
"Doctor Zhao." Qi Xia's tone hardened. "Get up. Now."
"Then promise me... give me a {knife} in the next round!" Doctor Zhao demanded, still sprawled on the ground. "I want to kill him—give me a {knife}!"
Qi Xia's fingers tensed around the cards in his hand. He did have a {knife}, but it was the linchpin of his strategy and couldn’t be played carelessly.
"Doctor Zhao," Qi Xia said with forced patience, "I decide what card to play. I am the {Strategist}."
"I don’t care if you’re the {Strategist} or not! If you don’t give me a {knife}, I’ll drag us both down in the next round!" Doctor Zhao thrashed on the ground, his voice sharp and unrelenting.
"May the {Strategist} stay away from the glass IMMEDIATELY!" Terrestrial Chicken screeched.
Qi Xia's eyes darkened, a flicker of realization crossing his mind. It was indeed unwise to trust someone like Doctor Zhao—he clearly wouldn't believe in him.
Or could it be that...? A thought crossed Qi Xia's mind, and he hesitated before speaking. "Alright, Doctor Zhao. I understand. Get up first."
At these words, Doctor Zhao slowly rose, grabbing the brick from the ground. He trudged toward the opening, muttering curses under his breath.
Once he turned around, the pain on his face disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, unreadable expression. He shot Qi Xia a look that spoke volumes. ‘Punk, you get it now, don’t you?’ Doctor Zhao thought to himself.
Seeing the change in his expression, Qi Xia's lips curled into a faint smile. ‘I knew it...’
Doctor Zhao threw his brick aside, and Qi Xia resumed his seat at the square table.
The fifth round was about to begin.
"Please draw a card," Terrestrial Chicken instructed, extending his hand.
Su Shan, who had been quick to draw cards in previous rounds, hesitated this time.
Qi Xia raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What's wrong?" he asked, observing her.
"You go first," Su Shan said coldly, "It seems unfair that I always go first."
‘Unfair?’ Qi Xia mused, but he didn't argue and, without hesitation, reached for a card.
As expected, it was {rope}, the most common prop.
Was it a bad card?
No, it was actually the perfect card.
Qi Xia shuffled the cards in his hand and, with deliberate precision, placed the {rope} on the table.
Doctor Zhao, being a neurologist, was no fool. His earlier trick of injuring himself to gain the enemy’s trust had been a calculated move, designed to make the opponent exhaust all their {Shields}.
Now, with the {rope} drawn at just the right moment, it was poised to play a role far beyond its usual function.
Su Shan paused, her eyes narrowing as she considered her next move. Finally, she placed a card on the table, her expression sharp and cautious.
"Please reveal your cards."
The two revealed their cards simultaneously, and both turned out to be {ropes}.
"Qi Xia, I’ve finally read you," Su Shan said quietly, her tone laced with a sense of triumph.
Qi Xia cast a brief glance at her card, his expression unperturbed. He had anticipated that Su Shan, with her keen intellect, would easily unravel Doctor Zhao's stratagem. However, it was a pity that this insight had allowed her to deplete a {rope}.
Doctor Zhao, for his part, was not foolish enough to risk their lives for a knife, but his strategy had been a bit too hasty.
Two ropes fell in the glass room.
Doctor Zhao picked up his rope without a hint of expression. He understood that Qi Xia knew exactly what he was trying to convey. But why had the other side also played a {rope}?
Did this mean they no longer had a {shield}? Or had the girl seen through the plan?
Zi Chen, on the other hand, held the {rope} awkwardly. It was his first time drawing it, and his face reflected his discomfort. In the previous four rounds, his props had been knives or stones—lethal items—but now, he was stuck with the least threatening prop: a rope.
Just as he hesitated, Doctor Zhao swung his rope with a swift motion, bringing it down hard.
Before Zi Chen could raise his arm to block, the rope cracked across his skin, sending a sharp sting that felt worse than being struck with an iron rod.
"Ah!!" Zi Chen screamed in pain, nearly losing his grip on the rope. "You motherfucker..." He seethed, folding his rope and storming forward with fury. "You dare whip me?!"
Knowing that he couldn’t maneuver the rope as effectively as his opponent, Zi Chen shortened its length, using it like a whip. With a quick, sharp flick, he lashed out at Doctor Zhao, landing several strikes.
Doctor Zhao, refusing to be outdone, swiftly blocked with his arms before folding the rope and retaliating with a decisive lash.
Qi Xia watched the scene unfold, nodding thoughtfully.
It became evident that the {rope} was far from useless. When both parties wielded it, an unspoken force compelled them to maintain a wary distance. This dynamic necessitated the swinging of the ropes in order to strike one another, and once such a rhythm took hold, the game teetered dangerously toward chaos.
