Chapter 13

Number Thirteen looked at the face opposite him and nodded. "Number Two, just leave me alone in the car."

Knowing that Number Thirteen needed absolute silence to activate his ability, Number Two didn't disturb him further. He opened the car door, got out, and walked alone to a nearby streetlight.

The dim yellow light stretched Number Two's shadow long, adding a touch of loneliness.

Seeing Number Two leave, Number Thirteen took a deep breath. He was about to begin.

He reached into his pocket and took out a deck of cards.

His expression turned solemn. He pressed his hands together, holding the cards for a few seconds, then scattered them on the seat beside him. He didn't use much force, yet not a single card fell to the ground.

The next moment, a gust of wind blew through the closed car. A white glove appeared out of thin air on Number Thirteen's left hand.

This white glove seemed to possess an inexplicable magic. The cards on the seat were manipulated from a distance, moving in a strange manner.

One by one, the cards fluttered and turned over, until only one remained face down.

The face-up cards were neatly arranged, surrounding the last card.

If anyone were carefully observing nearby, they would notice that there were 52 regular cards and 2 joker cards already flipped over.

A total of 54 cards.

This meant that the card still face down on the seat was extra, not belonging to any card in the deck.

Since this card appeared, Number Thirteen's pupils gradually dilated, his whole person exhibiting an extremely eerie posture, as if dying.

At the same time, a figure was reflected in Number Thirteen's eyes.

It was a tall man, exuding an astonishing aura. A faint black mist lingered around him, a strange mist that seemed to trap even light.

It was Number One, skilled in the power of space.

He was also Number Thirteen's first suspect.

After completing the contract with the thing inside the door, Number Thirteen finally moved. The white glove flipped over the last card.

Instantly, Number Thirteen's face turned even paler. The card depicted a clown-like figure, but far more terrifying and grotesque than any known clown image.

The clown also wore a white glove on its right hand, but its left hand was bare.

It was very similar to the white glove on Number Thirteen's left hand.

To be precise, Number Thirteen's white glove had been stolen from this clown.

The clown on the card stared venomously at the outside world, at Number Thirteen's face. The next second, the clown's mouth split open in an exaggerated grin, as if it had won this gamble. Its body wriggled strangely, and then it suddenly extended its left hand.

An unbelievable scene unfolded. That hand actually reached out from the card, grabbing Number Thirteen's wrist, as if to pull him into the card.

This absurd and bizarre scene was actually playing out in reality.

"Ugh..." Number Thirteen frowned, veins popping on his forehead. He was enduring immense pain.

His hand was being pulled entirely into the card. With a crisp snap, his little finger was bitten off at the base.

"Snap."

"Snap."

…

The clown in the card revealed a satisfied smile, chewing constantly, blood seeping from the corners of its mouth. Its pair of venomous eyes stared fixedly at Number Thirteen's face, as if waiting for its next delicious meal.

After all… one day, it would completely devour the delicious meal before it.

The first attempt had failed.

Number One was not the murderer of Number Ten.

The clown inside his door had the ability to verify. He only needed to imprint the suspected person in his mind, and then use the clown's ability to verify whether it matched the figure that had killed Number Ten not long ago.

This was a gamble. Losing came at a price.

If it matched, then he won, and all was well. If it didn't match, if he guessed wrong, then the clown won, and the price was to devour a part of his body.

Starting with his left hand.

Now, Number One's suspicion had been eliminated. It was time to verify the next person.

Number Thirteen's pale face was covered in cold sweat. He endured the pain and threw the cards again, starting the second gamble.

This time, the person he had chosen was Number Six, Chen Ran.

Number Thirteen absolutely didn't believe that Chen Ran would betray Mr. and them for profit, but even someone as strong as Number Six had a fatal weakness: Number Seven.

If in a critical moment, the Night Watch captured Number Seven and used him to threaten him into killing Number Ten, would he do it? Number Thirteen really couldn't guarantee that.

The white glove operated smoothly and elegantly, giving a sense of falling cherry blossoms.

But as the answer was revealed, Number Thirteen saw the clown's playful face again. The bloody scene replayed, the clown pulling Number Thirteen's hand into its own door world.

Blood flowed down Number Thirteen's hand, which was covered in bite marks, a ghastly sight.

But for some reason, under such pain, a trace of liberating pleasure actually appeared on Number Thirteen's face. This expression enraged the clown in the card.

It wanted despair, because only desperate prey… was the most delicious.

"Not Number One, nor Number Six..." Number Thirteen's lips curled up, his eyes bloodshot. "Really... very good."

Compared to the pain on his body, he really couldn't accept that these two relatives had attacked Number Ten.

He didn't want to see what everyone else would look like after hearing this news.

Everyone would be sad.

The clown in the card was eager to try, staring at Number Thirteen's face with resentment and greed. It was anxious, eager to start the next gamble. It was determined to have a full meal today before it would stop.

Like a wolf that had smelled blood.

Who was next?

Number Thirteen's original choice was Number Eight, or… Number Two. But after he glanced outside, a tremor suddenly surged in his heart. Number Two stood under the streetlight, the dim yellow light making his face appear alternately bright and dark.

Number Two was facing away from him, his body slightly hunched, as if he had aged several decades in an instant.

For a moment, Number Thirteen suddenly felt like a bastard. Why would he suspect his family, Number Two, Number Six, Number Eight, or even… Number One? They were all family.

Number One had once spared Number Three's life, so he would definitely not harm Number Ten.

Definitely not!

Then the next target… Number Thirteen paused, turning his head to look at a building not far away. There… was a guy named Wu.

Could it be him?

Number Thirteen wasn't sure.

But for Number Ten's safety, he had to try.

As the white glove appeared again, the car was once again enveloped in a strange atmosphere…

"Bang!"

Number Two, who was secretly feeling sad, shuddered and immediately turned around. He saw the car door being pushed open. Number Thirteen, whose hand was still dripping blood, staggered out halfway, his eyes bloodshot, and roared in a low voice, "It, it's him!"