Chapter 7 — Becoming One with the Devil

The girl shook her head: "No, it's a newborn, it will cry, it will be a burden to us." "Then shut it up." The leather jacket guy's voice was cold. The girl was stunned: “What do you mean…” “What should I say?” He glanced at her, "I'm just saying, shut her up. Whatever method you use, it'll be fine until then." No one said another word. But something has changed in the atmosphere. Lam Niem was still playing happily in the teenager's arms, completely unaware that someone was plotting against him. The girl grabbed the teenager's finger and stuffed it into her mouth. The finger was too long, so she changed the angle and bit the boy's knuckle. The teenager let the girl bite him, his gray eyes staring at the seven people whispering loudly in the other corner. They thought they had lowered their voices very low, but he heard them all. Every word, clearly. His eyes darkened. In the afternoon, the group of seven people went into action. They pretended like nothing happened and spread out across the living room, slowly approaching the sofa. The guy in the leather jacket took the lead, his hands hidden behind his back, clutching the knife he stole from the kitchen. The teenager was looking down, seemingly dozing off, holding the baby in his arms. One step. Two steps. Three steps... The teenager suddenly raised his head. Gray eyes locked on the leather jacket man. His steps stopped. "What's the matter?" The teenager asked, his voice flat and emotionless. He smiled awkwardly: "No, nothing. Just wanted to ask... well, where is the bathroom?" The teenager stared at him for two seconds. Then he pointed his chin toward the hallway: “Over there.” "Thank you, thank you." He turned around and walked towards the hallway. The others also scattered awkwardly. But their eyes still occasionally glanced towards the newborn. When it was dusk, the woman returned. The man also returned. The whole family gathered around the dining table. Lam Niem sat on the woman's lap, holding a bottle of milk and gurgling. The seven players were still huddled in the corner of the room, with identical portions of rice in front of them, but no one could swallow them. Because today's bowl of soup changed color again. It's not red anymore, but it's a grayish-opaque white color, with a few pieces floating around... that look like pig brains. The woman took a sip and smacked her lips in satisfaction: "Today's soup is delicious." The man nodded and continued to slurp. The teenager did not sip the soup, just bent down to serve the rice, occasionally looking up at Lam Niem. After drinking milk, Lam Niem started to feel sleepy again. The woman put the girl in the crib and carefully covered her with a blanket. " Go to sleep." She said softly. Lam Niem opened his eyes dreamily, glanced at her and then closed his eyes again. A day passed like that. For Lam Niem, this is a very normal day: drinking milk, sleeping, being held and playing. But for the other seven players, this was a day as long as a century. Just overnight until day two. They only had twenty-two hours left. Twenty-two hours later, they were able to leave this dungeon alive. The leather jacket guy lay on the bed, glaring at the ceiling, repeating the day's plan over and over in his head. Kidnapping that baby. Use it to threaten monsters. As long as they have a little bit of interest in the child, they will have a chance. What if they don't care? It doesn't matter, you have to die anyway. Thinking endlessly, he drowsily fell asleep. Midnight. The door to the room opened quietly without a sound. The teenager stood loomed in front of the door, his gray eyes sparkling a little light in the dark night. He entered the room, approached the leather jacket guy's bed, and looked down. The leather jacket guy slept very soundly, breathing regularly. The teenager reached out and gently flipped up the edge of his blanket. Under the blanket, the knife he stole from the kitchen lay right next to his hand, the blade glinting coldly in the moonlight. The teenager stared at that knife for a few seconds. Then, he bent down, leaned close to the leather jacket man's ear, and whispered a sentence. The leather jacket guy was startled and opened his eyes. In the dark night, a pair of gray eyes locked on him. Those eyes were empty and lifeless, like two shallow wells with no bottom in sight. "You..." The teenager raised a finger and placed it across his lips: "Shh." The leather jacket man's mouth was open but he couldn't say a word. The teenager stood up straight, glanced at the man, then turned and walked out of the room. The door closed as quietly as when it opened. The leather jacket man gasped for breath, cold sweat drenching the back of his shirt. He instinctively groped for the knife next to his pillow, it was still there. But he knew, that monster just wanted to kill him. He just didn't understand, why didn't he act? The next morning. Sunlight flooded the living room. The seven players scrambled up from the corners, their faces all gray. The two dark circles under the leather jacket man's eyes were clearly visible. He stayed up all night just thinking about that teenager's words. The words whispered into his ear. Not a threat, not a warning. That sentence is... "She is my sister." The leather jacket guy couldn't understand what this sentence meant. That newborn child is clearly a player, clearly an outsider, why does that monster call her little sister? Unless… Unless that kid is no longer a player. Since when? Since he hugged that woman's leg? Since he helped the man clean up the blood? Or was it the first word "mother" he babbled out? He didn't dare to think anymore. All he knew was that the child was now considered by this monster family as his own. As for real players like these guys, they are the outsiders. “We must act quickly.” He lowered his voice and said to the others, "Today we have to act. If we wait like this, she will completely become one of their side." "But..." The ponytail girl hesitated, "She's inherently a player." ”Is it still a player now?”