One hour before her ti stop ended, Rita leapt into another cloud house. This was the window she had given herself — if entering didn’t cancel the pause, she would have ti to check other houses and study their rules.
But just as she had expected, the instant she stepped inside and saw the layout of the ga table, ti resud.
She didn’t even need to read the rules on the wall. One look at the setup and the players’ frantic expressions told her everything.
Turtle Racing.
There was only one massive table, twenty ters long, divided into ten lanes. Each lane had a tiny turtle inching slowly toward the finish line. Every ter or so stood a miniature hurdle.
Around the table, players were shouting their turtle’s na at the top of their lungs.
Even Pine Bloom — the ever-poised, ever-elegant Pine Bloom — was screaming her turtle’s na with raw desperation.
Each ti her voice rose, the turtle in her lane actually jumped.
No way. Were these things voice controlled?
Rita turned her head toward the bar where the turtles were being chosen. Dozens of them sat neatly lined up, shells polished, heads poking curiously from beneath their tiny helts. Each had its own color, number, and naplate.
Her eyes flicked toward the ruleboard nearby. Exactly as she’d guessed: pick a turtle, cheer it on, and whoever’s turtle finished first won a World Graveyard token. Turtles shared their player’s buffs, but attacking another turtle was forbidden.
At the very bottom of the board, a cheery little note read:
"Please shout your turtle’s na loudly to encourage it! Turtles who do not hear their na will fall asleep. The louder you cheer, the higher your turtle will jump!"
Rita wanted to leave. Imdiately.
But when she turned, she hit an invisible barrier.
No exit before completing at least one ga.
For a good thirty seconds, she stood there at the door, staring blankly into the translucent wall, before turning back with the expression of soone marching to their own execution.
Now she understood why the skill was called [Let It Die]. There had never been a truer na.
An orange in a black vest hopped up to her cheerily and gestured toward the lineup of thumb-sized turtles. "Contestant Rita, please choose your companion."
Rita pointed at the nearest white turtle without hesitation. "That one."
Expression flat, she hugged her turtle like a ticking bomb and took her place by the table.
There had been more than nine players in line, but the mont she arrived, several mysteriously went back to switch their turtles. Just like that, Rita found herself ninth in line.
Across the table, Pine Bloom clenched her fists and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Doudou, go, Doudou! Faster!"
She was practically roaring, veins standing out on her neck. Her turtle, Doudou, was struggling over the final hurdle — taller than all the previous ones. It had been stuck there for thirty seconds, and the other turtles were catching up.
Rita shivered. It was terrifying.
She wanted to record it. To send to Lidian.
Her gaze must have been obvious, because Pine Bloom turned her head just long enough to glare, eyes promising murder.
To avoid provoking her and turning herself into the next joke, Rita forced herself to look away.
A few minutes later, Pine Bloom stalked out of the house, clutching her World Graveyard with murder in her eyes — the expression of soone who had won the prize but lost her soul.
That lasted until she heard behind her a strange, desperate sound:
"Aba Aba Aba ba."
Pine Bloom froze. The cold mask on her face cracked in shock. She understood that sentence perfectly. "Jiu Jiu, run or I’ll kill you."
Wait. That voice. Why did it sound so familiar?
She wasn’t the only one who stopped. A few nearby players froze too, halfway to another cloud house.
Then ca another voice, louder. "Aba... Aba ah!!"
The first one might have been an illusion. The second one erased all doubt.
With a flicker of movent, Pine Bloom teleported straight back into the house, reappearing beside BS Rita.
Rita, who had just activated [The Wind Doesn’t Speak], nearly fell out of the ga ring as Pine Bloom materialized beside her.
All around, the other players kept shouting their turtles’ nas, but no one could resist sneaking glances at the scene.
BS Rita. It had to be that BS Rita.
Rita stood rigid, staring at the little white turtle in Lane Nine. The mont she went quiet, it stopped dead — and of course, it had halted right before the very first hurdle.
A soft, lodic voice sounded next to her ear. "You’re about to lose."
Yes, she was. If she didn’t act now, she’d lose — and that ant the future of BlueStar itself.
BS Rita, for heaven’s sake, you’re the arbiter of BlueStar. Is pride really more important than the fate of your world?
Rita shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and bellowed, "Aba—!!!"
"Jiu Jiu!!"
The shout shook the entire cloud house. Every other player fell silent.
The white turtle, eyes snapping open, radiated raw power — an aura of pure invincibility.
It leapt.
It cleared the first hurdle with a single bound.
The audience gaped.
The only word that fit was shock.
Even with soul awakening, Divine Ga had ensured everyone still spoke Arisentna’s common tongue. No foreign languages allowed.
So whatever this sound was, it definitely wasn’t BlueStar speech.
Pine Bloom’s face twisted — halfway between hysterical laughter and an attempt at composure. She knew all too well how much Maple Syrup and Mistblade had suffered because of BS Rita’s bizarre skills.
In the individual match, they had been turned into idiots. That humiliation still burned.
Now it was BS Rita’s turn.
And her level of idiocy far outstripped theirs.
If Maple Syrup could see this, she’d probably die smiling.
But once you started, you might as well commit.
Co on, Rita thought fiercely. You fools have no idea how good a "Dustfire" tier skill feels to use.
You don’t know at all.
When the white turtle slowed again, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and shout, "Aba, Aba!"
"Jiu Jiu, you can do it!"
The turtle began crawling forward at a blazing one centiter per second.
Pine Bloom finally lost all control, laughing so hard she had to grab Rita’s shoulder for balance. "You deserve this!"
Rita smacked her hand away furiously. "Aba!" Let go of !
Across the field, Maple Syrup frowned as her ssage alerts went wild. Who was spamming her?
Pine Bloom: Get to cloud house 555 right now HAHAHAHAHA
Pine Bloom: You’ll regret it if you miss this
She sighed. Well, she had ti to kill anyway, and she had seen 555 earlier nearby.
[Maple Syrup]: On my way.
The mont she stepped into the house, a deafening "Aba—!" rang out, echoing through the air, followed by Pine Bloom’s uncontrollable laughter — loud, hearty, completely undignified.
Maple Syrup froze.
What in the world...
She teleported forward a few ters, just in ti to see BS Rita, face flushed crimson, eyes squeezed shut, slamming both fists onto the table with a resounding thud, and screaming again with all her soul,
"Aba—!!"
Maple Syrup: ?!?
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