Chapter 4: About How I Might Have Hugged the Wrong Thigh

“The wolf on the bed… did you do that, or did she?!”

Bai Linlin’s voice sounded sharp and thin in the clearing before the cabin.

She pointed at the knife-wielding woman, but her eyes glared at Lin Yan, her face screaming what the hell is going on.

The knife-wielding woman, hearing her question, shifted her icy gaze from Lin Yan to the little one in the red cloak.

That look was strange.

Like appraising, with a touch of… something that made her back prickle.

The woman spoke, her voice not as cold as her expression—almost overly calm.

“Linlin, wait a moment.”

She said.

“Soon, we can be together again.”

Bai Linlin’s mind buzzed.

Wait? Linlin? She’s calling my name?!

“Wait!”

Bai Linlin blurted out, shock plain on her small face.

“You… you know me?”

This woman knew “Bai Linlin”?

Someone the original body knew?

A player? Or an “acquaintance” from this damn game before?

Her mind raced.

Right now, Lin Yan and this woman were at daggers drawn.

Lin Yan was her overt teammate, tasked with protecting her and killing the wolf.

This woman… identity unknown, purpose unknown, but she looked ridiculously strong, and she knew “her.”

A dangerous thought popped up.

If she knew “me” and said stuff like “be together again,” she probably wouldn’t hurt “me,” right?

Glancing at Lin Yan, shotgun in hand, sweat on his forehead—clearly under massive pressure.

Compare that to the woman’s composed demeanor…

Thigh! This is definitely a thicker thigh!

Bai Linlin’s mental abacus clattered away.

As a “cute but useless” combat-five trash in this death game, was relying on one hunter player really safe?

This one before her was obviously higher-level firepower!

Scary as she seemed, but… fortune favors the bold!

Hug the thigh early!

“Wait a second, wait!”

She immediately switched to an urgent yet innocent (she thought) expression, stepping out on her short legs.

Tap-tap-tap as she ran between them, her red cloak fluttering a small arc behind her.

“Don’t fight yet!”

She spread her short arms, as if blocking invisible killing intent, first turning to the knife woman and tilting her small face up, blinking hard.

“Sister, you’re wearing Grandma’s clothes… so you must be my ‘Grandma,’ right?”

The woman looked at her, neither confirming nor denying, her gaze bottomless.

Bai Linlin hurried on, words flying fast.

“Look, our only enemy is that Big Bad Wolf inside! Now it’s… uh, turned into that state by someone.”

She glossed over “human stick.”

“We’re not enemies! We should team up to finish off the Big Bad Wolf and clear this, not infight here!”

She felt her words were logical, evidence-based, full of big-picture thinking.

The knife woman listened, her flat lips suddenly curving up.

That smile was weird.

Not warm, not mocking—just a pure, unsettling “interesting.”

As if Bai Linlin’s words, or she herself, were something worth savoring.

Bai Linlin’s heart chilled at the smile.

This woman… what does she want?

But it seemed to work.

The woman’s wrist flicked, the ominous black-glowing long blade’s tip slowly dropping to point at the ground.

Not fully sheathed, but the aggressive intent clearly lessened.

Across from her, Lin Yan saw and relaxed his tense shoulders a bit, lowering his gun muzzle a few inches, but his gaze stayed locked on the woman, full of wariness.

He looked at Bai Linlin and asked gravely.

“The wolf, confirmed inside? Still alive?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Bai Linlin nodded, her voice dropping at the memory of the horror inside.

“But… it’s too miserable to look at. Can’t move.”

She paused, recalling the weird situation, and added.

“And there must be other ‘things’ around here. This instance isn’t that simple.”

She tried to sound like she was analyzing the situation.

Lin Yan stared at the cabin door, thinking for a few seconds.

“Then… we follow the task prompt first? Finish the wolf, see if the system has next instructions, if we can clear?”

His suggestion fit standard game logic.

Bai Linlin thought it made sense too, though the wolf looked pitiful—but it was the task target after all.

“Yeah, I think so.”

She agreed.

Lin Yan, seeing neither she nor the mysterious woman objected (the woman just watched quietly), took a deep breath, raised his gun, and began inching extremely cautiously, step by step, toward the cabin door.

Most of his attention stayed on the knife woman.

Just as his left foot was about to step onto the first crude wooden step before the door.

Whoosh!

A faint whistle through the air.

A glint of cold light grazed his boot tip, thudding deep into the dirt less than an inch ahead.

It was a dagger.

Small, exquisite, dark hilt, no blood groove, but the edge gleamed chillingly.

Lin Yan slammed to a halt, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.

He hadn’t even seen where the dagger came from!

He jerked his head up, raising the gun again at that direction—the knife woman.

The woman wasn’t looking at the dagger; her gaze was on Bai Linlin.

Clearly, she’d thrown it.

“Don’t move.”

She looked at Lin Yan, uttering two words.

Not loud, but carrying undeniable authority.

Then, she moved.

Straight toward Bai Linlin.

Lin Yan’s finger whitened on the trigger, but he didn’t dare act rashly.

The opponent’s moves were too fast, too casual—this effortless poise brought pressure far beyond facing a beast.

The woman reached Bai Linlin and stopped.

She was tall; Bai Linlin only came up a bit past her waist.

She actually… squatted down.

Now, her gaze leveled with Bai Linlin’s.

They were close; Bai Linlin could clearly see the tiny pores on her face, and those eyes—up close, the pupils deep-colored, like bottomless cold pools.

“You,” the woman looked into Bai Linlin’s slightly panicked light eyes, asking word by word, “don’t remember me?”

Bai Linlin’s heart thumped heavily.

Here it comes! Definitely the original’s acquaintance!

Alarm bells rang in her mind, but her face kept a茫然 with just the right pained touch, saying softly.

“I… I think I’ve lost my memory. Don’t remember anything from before…”

She watched the woman’s reaction as she spoke, gauging if the excuse would pass.

The woman said nothing, just staring at her.

That gaze like scanning her inside out.

Then, the woman extended her hand.

Fingers long, knuckles distinct, skin very pale.

This hand reached straight for Bai Linlin’s cheek.

Cool fingers pinched one side of her cheek flesh.

Gently, pinched.

Moved a bit, like feeling the skin’s texture and underlying bone contours.

Not exactly gentle, but not forceful.

More like… an inspection.

“Seems real.”

The woman released her hand, murmuring to herself in a low voice.

Her gaze lost some of that playfulness, gaining something more complex that Bai Linlin couldn’t read.

“You really lost your memory?”

Bai Linlin nodded like pounding garlic.

“Yeah yeah! Really! Don’t remember a thing!”