Chapter Seventy-Two: You Are Not Good Enough

The group quickly arrived before the Bridge of Flames. The sweltering heat was almost unbearable, and the violet-red flames erupting from beneath the bridge looked deadly at a glance. Everyone turned their eyes to Ye Chen, waiting for their captain to come up with a plan.

"Captain Night, didn't you say you could crack the Bridge of Flames? Go on, show us how it's done. Why are you just standing there?" Left Hand Myth sneered, his tone dripping with mockery.

A trace of disdain flickered in Ye Chen’s eyes. He thought to himself that Left Hand Myth was truly insufferable—if he didn’t let him suffer a bit, he’d be doing himself a disservice. As these thoughts went through his mind, Ye Chen’s face broke into a smile. “We need to test the power of these flames. Since the damage is magical, I think Left Hand should give it a try.”

“Why me? You’re a magic user too—why don’t you go?” Left Hand Myth retorted, glaring at him.

Before Ye Chen could reply, Dragon Soaring Bull stepped in, pointing at Left Hand Myth’s nose. “If the captain tells you to try, you try! Why all the talk?”

“Not unless you give me a reason,” Left Hand Myth snorted.

“The reason is simple. Among all of us, your magic resistance is the highest. With a full set of bronze gear, none of us can compare,” Ye Chen replied with a gentle smile, giving Left Hand Myth his due.

“Well, that’s true. None of you paupers could afford a bronze set. I suppose I’ll do you the favor and give it a try. Just so you know, I’ve crossed the Bridge of Flames on Hard difficulty without a scratch,” Left Hand Myth boasted, lifting his chin arrogantly. His words offended everyone around, even Black Cat’s face darkened, but Ye Chen just smiled and nodded, thinking to himself that once out of this dungeon, he’d make sure to teach this fool a lesson.

Still boasting, Left Hand Myth strutted toward the Bridge of Flames like a victorious rooster. He wasn’t worried; he’d crossed the Bridge of Flames on Hard before, and with his bronze equipment, his magic resistance was off the charts—there was nothing to fear.

Stepping onto the bridge, Left Hand Myth’s luck held; he managed to cross several cracks without being touched by the flames bursting from below. This made him even more smug. He turned back to the others, grinning in triumph, and then strode toward the next gap, just as the flame there subsided. Delighted, he leapt forward—only to see the flame, which had just died down, suddenly roar back to life, engulfing him in violet-red fire.

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From afar, Ye Chen and the others saw a massive damage number float up. When the flames fell away, there was no trace of Left Hand Myth left.

“Damn you, Night Chen! You did that on purpose. You set me up! This isn’t over!” Left Hand Myth’s furious voice rang out in the party channel. Dying in a dungeon didn’t cost him a level, but losing all that experience still hurt.

“Who set you up? Didn’t you say you could handle the Bridge of Flames on Hard? How was I supposed to know the King-level bridge could one-shot people?” Ye Chen replied blandly, though a sly smile played at his lips. He’d known perfectly well that the King-level bridge could kill in an instant—he’d sent Left Hand Myth to his doom on purpose. Ye Chen never considered himself a saint; he believed in payback, plain and simple. Left Hand Myth had crossed him too many times. If he didn’t retaliate, he wouldn’t be Ye Chen.

“You—hmph! Just you wait. I won’t forget this!” Left Hand Myth fumed.

“Say what you want. Are you coming back or not? If not, I’ll just kick you,” Ye Chen said casually. A person like Left Hand Myth would have caused trouble eventually, whether he was set up or not—so why not enjoy himself in the process?

“Of course I’m coming. I want to see you die on this bridge,” Left Hand Myth grumbled, cutting off the team chat. He was probably running back from the dungeon’s starting point. Fortunately, lower-level dungeons didn’t respawn monsters, or his troubles would have been much worse.

“Brother Night Chen, did you really not know the flames would kill instantly?” Dragon Soaring Star asked, grinning as he switched to the local channel—he’d noticed Ye Chen’s strange smile earlier.

Ye Chen spread his hands innocently. “Of course not. I’ve never run a King-level dungeon. How would I know?”

“Oh really? You looked awfully familiar with it,” Dragon Soaring Star said, blinking.

“Ah, haha, I just heard about it, that’s all. Only hearsay,” Ye Chen replied, laughing awkwardly.

“So, in all those stories you heard, none mentioned the Bridge of Flames one-shotting people?” Black Cat asked, smiling.

Ye Chen waved his hand solemnly. “I really hadn’t heard that. You have to trust my integrity. If I had, would I have let one of my own teammates die?”

“Brother Chen, I believe you,” Dragon Soaring Bull said earnestly.

...

After five or six minutes, Left Hand Myth finally returned. He shot Ye Chen a venomous glare and grunted, “Captain Night, it’s up to you now. Tell us, how do we cross the Bridge of Flames?”

“How? You walk across, of course. What, you think you can fly?” Ye Chen replied, looking at him as if he were an idiot.

“You—hmph! Fine, show us. I dare you. If you get across, I’ll eat this bridge,” Left Hand Myth said with a cold face.

“Just because you couldn’t make it doesn’t mean I can’t. There’s a saying: it’s not the road that’s rough—it’s that you’re not up to the task. You just don’t have what it takes,” Ye Chen replied, grinning impishly. Without waiting for another retort, he strode onto the bridge, calling back, “Remember what you said—I expect to see you gnawing on these stones in a minute.”

“Let’s see you cross first,” Left Hand Myth shot back, though his eyes stayed glued to Ye Chen, a look of schadenfreude on his face. He was sure Ye Chen would fall just like he had.

The others grew tense as well. None of them were confident Ye Chen could survive this death trap—the King-level Bridge of Flames could kill with a single blow.

Unlike his anxious teammates, Black Cat watched Ye Chen’s back with a grave expression. He didn’t believe Ye Chen would risk his life on a whim—if Ye Chen dared to try, he must have some confidence in his plan. So Black Cat tracked his every step, silently noting the placement and timing. If Ye Chen succeeded, perhaps the key to crossing the Bridge lay in the pattern of his movements.

If Ye Chen knew what Black Cat was thinking, he’d have praised his keen observation and insight. The pattern of the steps was indeed one of the keys to cracking the Bridge of Flames—but unfortunately, it was not the only one. Mastering that alone would not be enough...