IABI – Chapter 84 A Difficult Choice

In this silent, strangely ordinary night, a group of people wielding crude weapons charged toward the flickering light of freedom.

Chi Xin ran at the very front. In a sense, she was the leader of this entire operation — the one who carried everyone’s hopes. She knew she could not take a single step back; no matter what awaited ahead, there was only one path — forward, and forward again!

“Duang—”

Even the alloy gate that once held back the rioters of the Eastern District had been kicked open by Chi Xin before — how could an ordinary iron door stop her now?

With two powerful kicks, she blasted open the ancient castle’s gate. The morale of everyone behind her surged to its peak.

“Kill them—!”

But as soon as everyone rushed into the castle, they stopped in unison — confusion and bewilderment spreading across their faces.

The once-familiar castle no longer looked the same. The moment they stepped inside, the dark corridor stretched endlessly before them, and torches on the walls ignited one by one. Instead of illuminating the place, the dim flames only made it appear eerier and more sinister.

Chi Xin raised her hand, signaling everyone to calm down.

Her expression turned solemn. This bizarre scene immediately made her think of the psychic powers from the prison. Remembering the communication method Lou Chen had taught her, she silently chanted his name three times in her mind.

“What’s wrong… huh?” Lou Chen’s voice sounded surprised.

“Emergency,” Chi Xin said briefly. “Is this an illusion? If it is, can you break it?”

Lou Chen went silent for a few seconds. The others, tense and on edge, looked at Chi Xin, waiting. Then his voice returned — strained, slightly off.

“No, this isn’t an ordinary illusion,” he said. “If it were, I could break it in a heartbeat. But someone’s using a different kind of power — something I’ve never encountered before.”

Chi Xin’s heart sank, though her face stayed composed. “Can you tell what kind of ability it is?” she asked quietly.

Lou Chen was silent again. In that brief pause, the only sound in the vast space was the collective breathing of the group — the entire castle otherwise dead silent, like a ghost town.

“I just tried probing it with my mind,” Lou Chen said at last, his tone anxious. “Everything that’s changed here is real. Which means if you see a wall stretch out — then it really is stretching out. And there are other life signs inside. But my body isn’t nearby, so my ability is limited. I can’t tell what they are… What the hell are you people doing there? Why would you go to such a place?”

Chi Xin’s pupils trembled slightly. She had known the Warden’s powers weren’t limited to simple mind control — but she hadn’t expected something this terrifying.

“So, in other words,” she said slowly, “if we die here… we die for real. Everything here is real.”

“What do you mean ‘if you die here’?!” Lou Chen shouted, nearly losing it. “Get out now! I might not be able to protect everyone, but I can still keep you alive! The power is confined within the castle — once you’re outside, you’ll be safe!”

Chi Xin didn’t reply.

After a long silence, Jing Xiubai asked softly, “Chi Xin, what do you see?”

The murmurs from behind grew restless. Chi Xin turned around to face everyone — her clear, steady gaze cutting through the fear.

“Listen carefully,” she said. “Every word I say now is important.”

Lou Chen’s voice roared again in her mind. “What the hell are you doing! Did you not hear me?! If you leave now, you can still live! If you stay, I can’t pull you out!”

Chi Xin ignored him for the moment and addressed her people:

“Everything we’re seeing may look like an illusion — but it’s real. Whatever happens here is real. We’re likely to face all kinds of dangers ahead. This entire castle… has turned into a deadly trial ground. Only those who survive will gain their freedom. Your only goal—” her eyes swept across the group, “—is to stay alive. Understand?”

“Chi—Sister Chi, what kind of thing makes you this cautious?” Yu Xiang asked, nearly biting his tongue in fear. “Are you saying this castle’s turned into some giant Transformer that’ll suddenly kill people with hidden traps or something?”

“Maybe worse than that,” Chi Xin said gravely. “There might be something powerful inside. So remember — no matter what, protect yourselves. Survive!”

“Yes, ma’am!” the group roared back.

Yan Lin gritted his teeth. “I might not be good at much, but fighting? Aside from you, I’ve never lost to anyone! Whatever tries to kill me — I’ll kill it first!”

“Good,” Chi Xin said.

Without bothering to hide her strength anymore, she flicked her hand through the air — and several guns clattered down out of thin air, piling into a small mountain at her feet.

The room went dead silent.

“Take them,” she ordered curtly, biting down on a strap and tightening a gun to her arm. “This isn’t the time to freeze — move!”

Her cold shout shattered the stunned quiet. One by one, the others stepped forward to grab their weapons, their gazes toward her filled with both reverence and fear.

Only Pei Jiade looked different. When the guns appeared out of nowhere, he froze, eyes wide, body trembling slightly.

But it wasn’t fear — it was the tremor of someone gripping the weapon too tightly, trembling with deep disgust and guilt.

Under normal circumstances, Chi Xin would have noticed such a reaction instantly. But now, there was no time. Seeing that everyone was armed, she drew a deep breath, turned back toward the seemingly endless corridor, and stepped forward.

Lou Chen was so furious he could barely speak — all that came through their connection was his harsh breathing.

“Lou Chen,” Chi Xin said quietly, “thank you.”

“I told you to leave! What are you thanking me for?” he snapped. “If you die, I’ll turn you into a zombie just so you’ll finally listen to me!”

The words were meant to be frightening, but the tone — half angry, half desperate — somehow sounded endearingly flustered.

Chi Xin smiled faintly. “Then I suppose you’ll have to wait a long time.”

“I’m serious,” Lou Chen’s voice dropped, raspy between the pitch of youth and adulthood. “My body’s not near there. I can’t use my full power. If something happens to you, I—”

Chi Xin was already walking when she interrupted, asking lightly, “You what?”

After a pause, Lou Chen said softly, “Chi Xin, I know you’re someone who keeps your word. You said I’d get the chance to turn you into a zombie one day… I’ll remember that.”

At that, Chi Xin suddenly realized — this child had grown.

He was no longer the boy who only hated or feared the world. The desire to protect something… that was the first sign of becoming an adult.

After that, Lou Chen’s voice faded away. The situation left no room for distraction — Chi Xin focused fully on her surroundings, every sense alert.

The corridor was narrow and deep. The fire along the walls flickered as if stirred by invisible wind. Suddenly, a loud crash came from the side wall, making the nearby prisoners yelp in fright.

Chi Xin immediately turned — just in time to see something like an octopus tentacle burst through the wall, wrapping around one of the fallen men and pulling him back.

“What… what the hell is that?!”

Panic spread instantly. The others opened fire, bullets striking the tentacle — but instead of recoiling in pain, it only shuddered slightly, then tightened its grip around the man’s neck, dragging him toward the wall.

The man’s face turned purple; he was seconds from suffocating.

“Move!”

In that crucial instant, Chi Xin shoved her way through the crowd. Just as the man was about to be pulled into the wall, she reached him.

While everyone else hesitated in terror, Chi Xin showed none — she stomped down hard on one of the tentacle’s joints and ground her heel with full force.

Her kick was powerful enough to break alloy doors — it was no surprise that the tentacle jerked to a halt, a piercing, shrill cry echoing from within the wall.

There was a sound?

Great — that meant it had a body!

Chi Xin’s eyes narrowed sharply. She lifted the heavy machine gun slung over her shoulder, aimed at the small hole the tentacle had dug out, and da-da-da!—fired a fierce round of bullets!

“Raaagh—screeech—!”

A sharp and chilling scream came from within. The tentacle left outside suddenly weakened, then began to frantically recoil!

At that exact moment, Chi Xin reacted swiftly. She lunged forward and grabbed the prisoner’s arm. Just before the tentacle completely withdrew, she managed to snatch the person back by sheer force.

“Cough, cough! Cough!”

The rescued prisoner collapsed to his knees, coughing violently, his eyes flickering with a mix of pure terror and awe.

Just like everyone standing behind him.

“Chi… what was that?”

Yan Lin asked cautiously. He didn’t even dare to say Chi Xin’s full name anymore — showing just how high she now stood in his mind.

“A monster.”

Chi Xin replied briefly. She reached out to pull the collapsed prisoner to his feet, then raised her eyes to the group. “This proves what I said earlier was right. This building is now full of all sorts of dangers. What we can do is stay calm when the next crisis comes.”

“Who could possibly stay calm in front of something like that!?” The thin man they called Monkey squatted down, clutching his head and trembling. “I regret it! That thing really has demonic power — no one can beat it! We’re done for! We’re all going to die here!”

Chi Xin had expected this reaction. Her expression darkened, and just as she was about to step forward, a pair of arms as thick as tree trunks suddenly bulged with veins and yanked Monkey up by the collar.

“At a time like this, you’re still spewing crap?!” Yan Lin roared furiously, his voice echoing through the corridor.

“Other than this chance, when else do you think you’ll have the luck and courage to fight back? Look around you! Look at all these brothers still here! Chi Xin is here! This is our only shot! Don’t you want freedom? Remember how you felt when you realized you were trapped in this prison! And you still dare to say you regret it?!”

Monkey’s eyes went blank, his pupils shrinking as snot and tears streamed down his face. Yan Lin’s words seemed to strike a nerve, making his whole body tremble violently as he let out a choked sob.

“I… I want to… but I’m scared…”

“No one isn’t scared, Monkey.” Yu Xiang’s voice turned unusually firm. “But the old man was right — this is your only chance to break free from this prison’s control. If you’re bound to die, you can either die now — fighting for freedom and meaning — or die slowly and miserably, stripped of dignity, without even your sense of self left. Which would you choose?”

“You guys don’t need to be scared. We have Xin Xin.” Jiang Congyun’s gentle voice flowed like a cool breeze through the darkness.

“You know how strong she is. How many life-and-death moments have we made it through thanks to her? Without her, we’d have died dozens of times over.”

Chi Xin thought to herself — dozens was a bit much. And besides, they were the main characters. Even without her, a supporting role, they probably wouldn’t have died that easily.

Instinctively, her gaze drifted toward the film’s original protagonist, the most powerful — Jing Xiubai.

His eyes were dark and unreadable, his expression mixed with pride and worry. When he caught Chi Xin looking at him, he met her gaze briefly — and in that brief glance, there was an emotion she could almost understand.

But before she could dwell on it, Jing Xiubai looked away.

Chi Xin didn’t pursue the thought. Seeing that everyone’s emotions had steadied somewhat from the previous exchanges, she resumed walking forward.

This time, she was even more alert. After her daring rescue, the group followed her tightly, united by an unspoken agreement.

She was the only hope they had left.

When the walls suddenly began to move, pressing inward from both sides, Chi Xin noticed the anomaly immediately.

The second her system alarmed a warning, Jing Xiubai shouted, “Run!”

The view ahead began to twist. The walls around them shook violently. Everyone knew the corridor’s crushing distance was massive — the only way to survive was to run for their lives!

Chi Xin was incredibly fast. When she realized she had left the trembling and crushing walls behind her, she stopped abruptly and turned back to check on the others.

Everyone was sprinting desperately, but the passage was just too long — and there were too many prisoners. When the walls had squeezed down to barely a meter or two of space, some people still hadn’t escaped.

They screamed and wailed, their expressions frozen in terror — like figures in a painting of despair.

Just then, a glacial blue light flared from the ceiling. A massive wall of ice materialized, solidifying between the crushing walls, holding them back — guarding that last sliver of space.

“Go!” Jing Xiubai barked.

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock, but those still running didn’t care what force had saved them — they just kept running.

And just when everyone thought they might make it out safely —

Crack… crack!

The ice wall fractured under the pressure, splitting into deep, jagged cracks!

The same dread of being crushed into pulp surged back into everyone’s hearts. Those still trapped began shoving the ones in front of them frantically. In the face of death, human nature turned paper-thin — but even that chaos couldn’t stop the walls from closing in again.

Jing Xiubai tried using his power again, but in such a dry environment with little moisture, his ability was far weaker than usual.

The moving walls were like unstoppable mountains — intent on harvesting the lives of fragile humans. Nothing seemed strong enough to resist.

Just as those trapped inside screamed in despair, and those outside squeezed their eyes shut—

A slender figure shot forward like an arrow straight toward the most dangerous point!

Those who had closed their eyes quickly opened them again — just in time to see Chi Xin kick off the wall and launch herself upward.

Now caught between the two crushing walls, she spread her legs wide midair — into a perfect split.

The falling momentum stopped abruptly.

Chi Xin’s feet pressed against both walls. The same walls that had shattered an ice barrier like paper were now stopped dead — unable to move even an inch further.

She looked down at Monkey, who was trembling so hard he could barely stand, and curved her lips slightly.

“Get up. Keep going.”

Monkey stared up at her blankly. The only light in his eyes reflected her silhouette.

“Go!” Chi Xin urged.

Her leg muscles trembled with strain — the pressure of the walls was immense. Even for her, she couldn’t hold it for long.

Just then, thicker, sturdier ice pillars formed before her, reinforcing the space she held open. Together, they created a bridge of life.

When the last of the prisoners escaped, Chi Xin flipped backward in midair, landing solidly in the safe zone.

The instant she left, the ice pillars shattered, and the two walls slammed together with a thunderous crash.

Boom!

A massive barrier formed behind them, cutting off their way back completely.

In the dim flicker of firelight, they could see each other’s faces — twisted from exhaustion, fear, and the realization they’d survived yet again.

“There’s no way back now,” Jing Xiubai said, his voice clear between heavy breaths. “The only way to live… is to defeat Holay.”

“Are you still afraid?” Chi Xin asked.

A moment of tense silence followed — then someone spat fiercely.

“Hell no. Not after all that!”

“The one who should be afraid is Holay!”

“We’ve come this far already — to hell with it!”

Extreme fear, after passing through the gates of life and death, seemed to twist into a stronger emotion. That emotion was like adrenaline — it could awaken a person’s potential and turn into a blade that cut through thorns.

“I’m… scared,” the thin monkey muttered.

He was standing very close to Chi Xin. When Chi Xin turned to look at him, she found his eyes locked firmly on her, his small frame no longer trembling.

“For freedom!” he suddenly shouted. Then, avoiding her gaze, he whispered the last half of the sentence so softly it was drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

“For you.”

Chi Xin didn’t hear it.

She had already stepped forward again, ready to reorganize the team — when suddenly, her pupils contracted.

“Careful—!”

She had barely shouted the warning when the entire space around them began to shake violently!

This wasn’t like before, when only the walls shifted — this time, Chi Xin could clearly feel it wasn’t just the walls. Even the floor beneath their feet was cracking apart from deep within. Some people couldn’t keep their balance and fell hard to the ground.

“Chi Xin!”

Amid the chaos, she couldn’t tell who was shouting her name — maybe several people. Before she could respond, the wall behind her suddenly opened. A powerful suction force came from within, as if a giant hand had reached out and grabbed her, dragging her straight into the darkness!

At the same time, the entire surrounding space shattered before everyone’s eyes.

The world broke apart into countless floating fragments.

People stood on separate shards of space — even if they stretched out their hands, they could no longer touch one another.

With several sharp cracking sounds, the edges of those fragments began to fold, like paper creasing into layers.

If someone could have seen it from afar, they would have realized that the entire ancient castle was folding like a Rubik’s cube being twisted by invisible hands. In just an instant, all the blocks returned neatly to their original places.

The corridor that had just been filled with people fell silent, as though no one had ever been there.

Chi Xin, sucked into the darkness, was momentarily stunned — she hadn’t expected that after surviving thousands of meters in the air without being blown away by the wind, she would fall into a trap like this.

But her reflexes were quick. The instant she hit the ground, she crouched down, steadied herself with a hand, and cautiously scanned her surroundings.

Black. A darkness so absolute she couldn’t see her own fingers.

It wasn’t an exaggeration — with her sharp eyes, she still couldn’t make out anything.

Since she couldn’t determine what she was facing, Chi Xin kept low, slowed her breathing, and stayed alert.

The darkness didn’t last long.

With a sharp “snap,” as if someone had flipped a switch, the room was suddenly flooded with light.

Chi Xin squinted, and in the next second, the sight below her caught her attention.

The ground had turned into a massive water mirror, rippling outward from where she stood.

The walls around her were also mirrors, enclosing her on all sides, each reflecting her image perfectly.

In this kind of 360-degree mirror chamber, it was easy for ordinary people to feel as if they were being watched — to grow uneasy about their own reflection, until fear broke their composure.

But Chi Xin only gave her surroundings a calm glance before standing up from the mirrored surface.

From any reflection, there wasn’t a trace of fear on her face. She was calmer than the mirrors themselves.

“Holay,” she said flatly, “playing the same trick twice is enough. What do you want now?”

Her voice echoed through the chamber, reverberating like it came from the depths of a canyon.

That echo made her pause for a moment.

After a few seconds, she said again, “Since you’ve decided to pick us off one by one, let’s see what you’ve really got.”

As soon as the words left her lips, a red laser point suddenly appeared from one of the mirrors.  Chi Xin’s hawk-sharp eyes immediately tracked it — a red beam was emerging, sweeping rapidly toward her!

Her body moved before thought. Just as the beam was about to reach her, she leaped into a high side flip, landing smoothly on the mirrored floor again.

A few strands of her hair, sliced off by the beam, drifted down — still curling with smoke.

Chi Xin watched them fall and gave a cold smile.

“So this is your little trick?” she murmured. “Fine then — let’s dance.”

She lifted her arm; a red hair tie hung loosely from her fingers. Clamping it between her teeth, she tilted her head, arching her slender neck — as if completely unconcerned by the deadly beams that could appear at any moment — and slowly began tying her hair.

She didn’t know that everything inside this mirrored room was being live-streamed to countless viewers outside. Even if she had known, she wouldn’t have cared.

Right now, there was only one thing in her mind — the enemy she needed to defeat.

Though her movements appeared casual, every nerve in her body was on high alert. Not a single sound escaped her notice.

So when the faint zzzz sound of another laser forming reached her ears, her half-lowered eyes flashed with killing intent.

Her hands didn’t stop — even as she tied her high ponytail, she calmly took the hair tie from between her teeth.

A cross-shaped X of red beams suddenly appeared from the nearest wall, slicing toward her with furious speed — as if enraged by her defiance.

Without even raising her head, still focused as though on perfecting her hairstyle, Chi Xin moved — too fast for the eye to follow — stepping back just once.

That single step took her out of the laser’s crossing center, placing her precisely in the narrow gap between the beams.

At the same time, she bent her knees and sprang upward, her back curving in a beautiful arc — fitting perfectly through the deadly lattice of light.

Zzzz—!

The laser beams shot past her. Chi Xin landed steadily, not a thread of her clothing touched.

Lowering her hands, her freshly tied high ponytail flicked behind her, revealing sharp eyes and a faint, knowing smile.

“Come on,” she said. “Keep going.”

No matter from what impossible angle the next lasers appeared, Chi Xin moved like a boneless cat — always finding the one safe path through.

During her dodges, she flung several throwing knives at the mirrored walls. They clanged and fell without leaving a mark — or so it seemed.

After a few rounds, Chi Xin began to grow bored of this game.

This strange castle — it was no longer just a trap, it was a formation. And the simplest way to break a formation… was to destroy its creator.

She narrowed her eyes, fixing her gaze on one particular wall.

Holay, apparently making a decision, changed tactics. Instead of a few beams, an entire net of red lasers appeared — an interwoven grid covering the whole room, closing in to slice her apart.

Chi Xin didn’t flinch. Instead, her arms suddenly manifested two heavy machine guns.

Without hesitation, she aimed at the wall she had marked and opened fire!

Ratatatatata—!

Under the recoil that could have knocked down any normal person, Chi Xin sprinted forward through the deafening barrage.

Crack!

The wall shattered.

Without looking back, Chi Xin charged straight through into the world beyond.

Was she afraid?

In that instant, she asked herself —

Yes.

She was still afraid of death. She was still the same Chi Xin who feared dying. But now, more than death itself, she refused to meekly step into the grave Holay had dug for her.

Shards of broken glass surrounded her as she burst through, soaring like a butterfly breaking free from its cocoon.

Darkness again.

Then — a gust of night wind brushed her face. She realized — she’d guessed right.

The wall she had targeted with her throwing knives earlier — it had been the only one without a reflected distance.

That meant there was another space behind it.

Thud.

Chi Xin hit the ground, rolled several times, and stopped in a half-crouch.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Applause came from ahead, followed by Holay’s voice — slightly unsteady but amused.

“To make it this far, Chi Xin… I really underestimated you.”

She didn’t bother replying. She rose to her feet — and froze.

Before her was a cliff, dark wind howling up from below.

Holay stood at its edge, surrounded by huge floating bubbles.

Inside each bubble was a trapped criminal, each in their own crisis. And as Chi Xin looked at them, they looked back — their gazes meeting through the thin bubble walls.

A chilling realization struck her. Her breath caught.

“They… can all see this?”

Holay smiled faintly. “You’re clever. Yes — this is the appetizer I prepared especially for you.”

Chi Xin’s hand quietly tightened around her gun. Her voice remained steady. “Since this is the appetizer, there must be a main course, right?”

Holay kept smiling, glancing at her raised gun. “See? You’re clever. But let me give you a warning — don’t be too clever. Sometimes, it hurts you more than it helps.”

A sense of dread tightened in Chi Xin’s chest.

“Do we really need to keep exchanging polite nonsense?” she said coldly. “Stop stalling — you’re just making yourself look weak.”

“I hope you can still say that a few seconds from now,” Holay replied.

With a wave of her hand, several bubbles drifted aside — revealing what had been hidden behind them.

Chi Xin involuntarily stepped forward — then, catching the hatred mixed in Holay’s gaze, forced herself to stop.

Behind Holay, two thick tree trunks jutted out over the cliff’s edge.

Tied to them were two people — Yu Xiang and Jiang Congyun.

“Their lives,” Holay said softly, “now hang on your decision.”

She pointed, first at Yu Xiang, then at Jiang Congyun, and finally turned her finger — straight toward Chi Xin.

“Will you save him? Save her? Or… save yourself?”