The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 306: The Sweetest Cake, The Coldest Knife

Jiang Ci knelt on the ground, extending both hands.

The edge of the bone china plate was cold and smooth,

forming a stark contrast against his rough fingertips.

He took hold of that piece of cake.

Cha Cai's voice held no warmth.

"Eat. Uncle specially ordered this for you. Don't waste it."

Jiang Ci lowered his head, opened his mouth, and took a savage, huge bite.

The cheap vegetable cream, sickeningly sweet, instantly coated his entire mouth.

That chemically synthesized flavor mixed with the scent of blood in the air,

forming a nauseating, bizarre odor.

His stomach churned violently.

He ate frantically, ferociously.

Snow-white cream smeared his lips, the tip of his nose, his chin, making him look ridiculous and pitiful.

But his face never lifted, only his peripheral vision

remained fixed, deadlocked on the vaguely contoured, faintly writhing, bloody figure on the floor not far away.

His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

Every swallow was accompanied by a violent, retching impulse.

But he used every ounce of strength to forcibly suppress that wave of nausea.

It didn't feel like swallowing soft cake.

Beside the dining table, Lei Zhong looked down from above, his face showing not a flicker of emotion.

He was admiring, he was scrutinizing.

He was observing the prey he had captured, the subject learning new rules.

He wanted to see when this beast would break.

Would it be utterly tamed by the cloying sweetness of the cake, or completely driven mad by the bloodshed right before its eyes?

The "traitor" on the floor let out intermittent, faint, dying moans.

That sound, mingled with the bloody froth bubbling in his throat after his bones had been shattered.

And against this backdrop, the sound of Jiang Ci chewing the cake was amplified infinitely.

The screech of the fork scraping the plate's bottom, the squelching sound of cream being crushed in the mouth,

interwove with the faint sound of another man's life fading away, forming a symphony from hell.

Jiang Ci ate faster and faster.

His movements grew rougher and more violent.

He abandoned the fork, reaching out directly to grab the remaining half of the cake, shoving it haphazardly into his mouth.

In the end, he even made a move that made everyone on set hold their breath.

He violently buried his face into the bone china plate holding the cake.

The snow-white, smooth cream smeared across his entire face.

This action concealed all his subtle expressions, and also concealed the single scalding tear

that, the instant his cheek touched the cold plate bottom, slid uncontrollably from the corner of his eye.

The tear vanished into the cream, soundlessly.

No one saw it.

The plate was empty.

Even the last trace of cream clinging to the bottom had been licked clean by his tongue.

He slowly raised his head.

That young face was smeared with ridiculous white cream.

He strained, moving his stiff facial muscles, forcing out an ingratiating smile.

"Thank you, Uncle..."

"It's sweet."

Lei Zhong looked at his clown-like face and finally gave a satisfied nod.

He casually drew a pitch-black dagger from behind his waist.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the dagger casually onto the marble floor in front of Jiang Ci.

*Clang!*

A crisp, metallic sound of impact against the floor.

That sound sliced through all the sticky sweetness and blood in the air.

Cha Cai pointed at the traitor on the floor who was now barely moving.

"Full? Then get to work."

His words were an instruction for a mundane household chore.

"Send him on his way. Consider it your birthday gift."

Jiang Ci lowered his head, looking at the dagger gleaming with a cold, dark luster by his feet.

He slowly reached out and picked up the knife.

It felt icy cold in his hand.

According to the script's setting.

Just three days ago, at a dark alley entrance, this very man now reduced to a bloody pulp had, under the guise of offering a cigarette,

rapidly tapped Morse code onto Jiang He's palm with his knuckles: "The goods are fake. They're cleaning house. Take care."

That was their agreed-upon final contact.

So, the "traitor" being punished for "hoarding goods"... was the "Nail"!

The only comrade-in-arms who knew his identity, his sole point of contact!

A buzzing filled his head.

The dagger's chill spread from his palm throughout his entire body.

At this moment, he *was* Jiang He.

An undercover agent watching his own comrade being tortured to death, then handed the butcher's knife.

His hand began to tremble violently.

The soul of the "police officer" was locked in a final, desperate struggle against the skin of this "undercover" persona.

Jiang He had killed before.

But those were drug dealers, vicious criminals, in life-or-death firefights.

Not like this.

Not executing an unarmed, dying... fellow human being.

Lei Zhong's foot came down heavily on Jiang Ci's shoulder.

The immense force made his whole body sink lower, his knees thudding dully against the floor.

"What's wrong?"

Cha Cai's voice suddenly turned cold, devoid of any trace of the earlier "gentleness."

"Scared?"

He slowly leaned his upper body down, bringing his face close to Jiang Ci's ear.

"Or... do you know him?"

These words stabbed deep into Jiang Ci's nerves.

This was a trap.

The ultimate test.

The "traitor" in Cha Cai's mouth was a tool to test Jiang He's loyalty.

Kill, or don't kill.

There was no third option.

Just then, the "traitor" who had been lying on the floor like a dead dog suddenly, without warning, erupted into action!

Using the last of his strength, he twisted his bloodied, mangled face towards Jiang Ci's direction, his voice a desperate, tearing shriek:

"Jiang He! You piece of trash! You're nothing but a dog raised by Cha Cai!"

That man twisted his bloodied, mangled face,

using the last of his strength, aiming it at Jiang Ci's direction.

The eyes, obscured by blood and grime, held no plea for mercy, no resentment,

only a final, life-burning madness.

His lips moved silently, forming two words—"Do it."

He was using his own life to pave the final step of Jiang He's path!

Every crew member on set, including Jiang Wen behind the monitor, felt their hearts skip a beat.

They hadn't expected this seemingly ordinary background actor opposite Jiang Ci to erupt with such intense emotion,

and Jiang Ci immediately caught the other's performance!

"Aaaah—!"

A beast-like, sharp, strange cry erupted from his cream-smeared mouth.

It was the comrade's final command, the instinct to survive, a faith on the verge of being crushed...

All emotions detonated at this moment!

He lunged forward!

Kill him? No!

Spare him? We both die!

Cha Cai's gaze stabbed into his back.

In that split second, Jiang He's peripheral vision caught sight of "Nail's" arm, trying to push his body up.

There must be blood! He must be incapacitated! He must... survive!

This final thought flashed through his mind.

The dagger in his hand, avoiding all vital points, plunged viciously into the arm of the man trying to struggle and rise!

*Thud—!*