This young man named Du Lai smiled cheerfully and extended his right hand toward Yan Qingwen.

Yan Qingwen gave him an indifferent look and did not extend his own.

“Good wariness.” Du Lai raised his palm, revealing a razor blade pinched between two fingers.

Lu Ang was immediately furious. “You—!”

“Easy there, big guy — look at these two ladies, they’re far calmer than you are.” Du Lai laughed, flipped his hand — and the blade that had been between his fingers vanished without a trace.

Zhu Shu’s eyes widened in surprise.

Lu Ang was also startled: “What the?! A prop?”

“It’s a magic trick,” Bai Youwei said, coldly. “And the most street-level kind — relies on fast hands and fast eyes, but lacks artistic and technical merit.”

Du Lai’s smile stiffened slightly. His gaze landed on Bai Youwei, and he spoke in a slow, drawn-out tone edged with a subtle threat: “Little miss, talking that sharp — not very cute~”

Bai Youwei gave a small smile, watched those two hands of his, and said without any rush: “Every magician I’ve ever seen takes great care of their hands — not a trace of grime under their nails. But your hands… are filthy.”

She raised her eyes slightly, smiling at him. “So, are you a street performer… or a thief?”

Du Lai looked as though he’d been jabbed. The smile on his face froze.

He stayed silent for several seconds, then fixed a long look on Bai Youwei and took half a step back.

“You people really aren’t friendly at all…”

Du Lai pulled the corner of his mouth into a rueful smile:

“Fine. I’ll come out and say what I’m here for. I’ve got a claw machine game going, two players short of one. I have a strategy. I need a partner with decent skills.”

His gaze lingered on Lu Ang for half a second, and he added: “And they can’t be too big.”

Lu Ang: “Damn!”

Yan Qingwen laughed despite himself: “What’s going on — are game strategies just wandering all over Shanghai’s streets?”

“Of course not.” Du Lai gave a light shake of his head. “Strategies are in the hands of the game evaluation team. After we book a game slot, the team’s specialist tells us the detailed strategy. But don’t expect too much from it — because most games are competitive, and even knowing the strategy doesn’t mean you’ll come out alive.”

Saying this, he leaned sideways against the trunk of a tree at the edge of the sidewalk, his eyes drifting toward the young man who’d called out to Lu Ang earlier.

“Take the guy who just called to you — he actually wanted to con you into being cannon fodder. Russian Roulette, as a game — someone has to die before you can clear it.”

“And what about you?” Yan Qingwen asked. “Why come to us?”

“Because the people around here are all too dim.” Du Lai sighed. “I value my life. I don’t want a useless teammate dragging me down. You can relax — the claw machine game isn’t competitive between players. It requires cooperation between two people. Of course, if the cooperation fails and you die in there, that’s not something I can help.”

Bai Youwei frowned. “With stakes this high, why are people still trying to get others into games?”

“Obviously for props.” Du Lai said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “A good prop can save your life in a critical moment. And the people who live here — every single one of them has to enter games. Having a few extra props gives you more confidence going in.”

“Every single person has to enter games?” Bai Youwei was somewhat taken aback.

“Ah… looks like you really are newcomers — you haven’t figured anything out yet.” Du Lai smiled. “The people in the game evaluation team feed us and house us, and regularly provide us with game strategies. That’s obviously not a free service. Their only requirement of us residents is… to enter the games on schedule.”

—