Chapter 147: Sisyphus |
Ming Po knew this ancient Greek myth.
Sisyphus, the king of Corinth, was once arrogant enough to deceive the gods. As a mortal, he chained up the God of Death, ensuring that mortals on earth would no longer die. Later, when Zeus ordered Death's release, Sisyphus faced the reckoning and was dragged into the Underworld. Yet, he deceived the Queen of the Underworld once more, managing to escape back to the realm of the living unscathed.
But this time, he was caught by the gods again. He was condemned to the Underworld to endlessly push a massive boulder up a hill. The punishment would only end when the boulder reached the peak. However, it was a trap—on those steep, jagged cliffs, the moment the heavy stone reached the top, it would inevitably roll down the other side. It was an eternal, inescapable torment.
How similar this was to the Game of Deception.
Those cunning individuals who deceived the gods had usurped their authority, rewriting the fate that "all mortals must die." They had tried to escape death, only to fail in the end.
Furthermore...
"Kill all Deceivers of the World."
Was this not also a Sisyphean... act of futility?
Even if he could kill one person, or a hundred... even if he managed to kill a thousand or ten thousand, he could not stop them from killing more people and creating even more Deceivers.
If they could not be wiped out in one fell swoop, their numbers would only multiply.
Was the myth of Sisyphus not a metaphor for the Game of Deception itself?
"One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
The words suddenly slipped from his lips.
The moment he spoke them, Ming Po himself paused in surprise.
He knew the quote belonged to Albert Camus, but he wasn't entirely sure what it meant. It was almost as if... someone had repeatedly spoken those words to him in the past.
Thinking about his missing memories, Ming Po suddenly felt... rather displeased.
Why was he missing so much of his past?
What kind of person had he been?
The more Ming Po thought about it, the more agitated he became.
Even under the suppression of the "Detective" title, a murderous urge gradually began to well up within him.
He wanted to crush something, or tear someone apart.
And, entirely unnoticed by Ming Po himself... his deep blue eyes flickered with an unsettling, dim yellow glow.
"...Hmm."
Suddenly, Ming Po had an idea that might help him sort through his chaotic memories.
Once he made up his mind, the erratic flickering in his eyes quietly dissipated.
He first poured himself a glass of alcohol.
Because the proof was exceptionally high, Ming Po poured only a tiny amount, roughly a bottle cap's worth. The peridot-colored liquid looked quite beautiful. Hovering over it, he could smell faint traces of lemon and mint, along with an overwhelmingly pungent scent of anise, mixed with a strange, unidentifiable odor. He leaned in to take a sniff, and the sharp smell made him slightly dizzy.
Ming Po couldn't help but frown.
...It smelled like it would taste absolutely terrible.
This stuff seemed worse than traditional herbal medicine...
"I remember... isn't absinthe supposed to be mixed with something before drinking?"
He thought for a moment but couldn't recall.
Whatever, he would just mix it with cold cola.
So, Ming Po walked into Ai Shiping's room, grabbed a can of cold cola, and poured it into his glass.
The ratio of cola to alcohol was at least five to one. That was enough to mask most of the strange flavor.
This was also a good opportunity to test if the alcohol's effects would still trigger when mixed with ice or water.
Otherwise, if he obtained strong spirits like vodka later on... Ming Po really wouldn't be able to stomach them straight.
Closing his eyes, Ming Po downed the mixture in one gulp.
After finishing it, he couldn't help but shudder.
The taste was incredibly bizarre, like a handful of fennel and a vial of herbal heatstroke medicine had been dumped into the cola. He didn't know if it was the natural taste of the absinthe or the result of adding the soda.
Right then, a surging wave of madness rose from his stomach, crashing into his brain in an instant.
He snapped his eyes open, his deep blue pupils instantly dyed a dim yellow. The power of the [Detective] title failed to hold it back for even a second. That cold, rational... even somewhat sluggish and depressive feeling instantly turned into restless agitation.
It was like a bookworm in a foul mood being forcibly dragged into a nightclub by a friend. Covering their ears against the deafening music, they could no longer maintain their aloof demeanor.
As the nose-tingling harshness gradually faded, he felt the heavy burden in his mind start to lift.
"...This feeling is much more comfortable," Ming Po sighed, rubbing his forehead.
His whole body felt refreshed, his mind clear. It felt like stepping out of a shower, with every pore on his body breathing.
A faint coolness lingered on his forehead—the influence of the Detective had not yet completely vanished. It felt like the sensation left in the throat after swallowing a sip of iced mint water.
With the blessing of the [Madman's Silver Crown], Ming Po was very confident that he could clear the Promotion game.
But, before that...
Ming Po took out an Hour's Red Copper.
He had something to verify.
Those chaotic memories in his mind could only suddenly resurface under specific circumstances—like encountering a related event. Other memories had been swallowed whole, impossible to recall no matter how hard he tried.
It was like a forgotten elementary school classmate.
Sometimes you forget their name, sometimes their face. But sometimes, you don't even remember they ever existed in your class.
For some reason, Ming Po's subconscious had always been restraining him from using the Time Chips.
And now, having realized this, even that "restraint" had become part of his "rebellion."
He truly didn't know when he died, so he couldn't accurately return to the exact moment before his death.
However...
He didn't need to return exactly to that point.
In Ming Po's remembered timeline, he died in 2023.
But when Ming Po altered the cause of Ai Shiping's death, the time in this world suddenly shifted to 2026.
Therefore, he really only needed to try returning to some point between 2023 and 2026.
If he had already become one of the Wronged Dead during that time, the chip would fail to activate because he was already dead. Conversely, if he wasn't dead yet, he could jump straight back.
He didn't need to change anything; he only needed to confirm that he could return! As long as he came right back immediately after landing, he wouldn't alter the past, and thus wouldn't affect his transformation into a Deceiver of the World or cause Ai Shiping and Gao Fan to inexplicably vanish.
As long as he had enough chips, Ming Po could use a process of elimination to pinpoint the exact time of his death!
And then, jump straight back to right before he died!
That way, Ming Po could finally figure out exactly what had happened!
Ming Po didn't want to be pushed around in the dark anymore, nor did he want to listen to any more riddlers coming to him with vague nonsense. He had had enough.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he had become someone else's pawn.
And now, it was time for him to jump off the chessboard...
Or perhaps, flip the board entirely.
"Let's start the test then."
Ming Po held up the chip, gazing at it.
His pupils shone with a dazzling, dim yellow light.
He solemnly declared, "[Let me return to January 1st, 2026, at twelve noon.]"
As he spoke, Ming Po crushed the chip in his hand.