Chapter 173: Chizuko |
At that moment, the piano music upstairs gradually ceased.
The notes echoed in the decayed air.
It even created a strange illusion—
As if, even after it completely dissipated, it still lingered imperceptibly.
Lingering within this unvisited manor.
Or perhaps echoing eternally within Chizuko's nightmares.
"You are a good child, Chizuko."
Ming Po smiled, his voice deep and magnetic.
Lowering his gaze, he slowly sat down at the piano.
"I know you don't want to kill me—
"You don't even want to hurt anyone.
"You only wish for me to leave this place as quickly as possible.
"You exploited the mechanics to trap yourself on the absolutely safe second floor. Without the intervention of the Domain of Force, that door is indestructible—"
With every sentence he spoke, Ming Po slowly struck a key.
Unknowingly, the roles of the "performers" in this game had swapped.
His keystrokes progressed into the second measure.
His right hand struck the bloodstained C key.
A-flat—C—E-flat.
It was a timeless classic—Chopin's "Nocturne in E-flat major."
However, this time, Ming Po wasn't sent back to the dungeon entrance despite having violated the "taboo."
This meant his test was a success.
The dungeon's loop mechanism wasn't fixed—or rather, as the master of this nightmare, Chizuko could influence the dreamscape's composition and rules to a certain extent.
It was also possible Ming Po had been continuously looping earlier simply because the photograph hadn't yet been removed.
Chizuko didn't want to see her mother's photograph "severed" by the piano's performance—even if she was the one who had placed it there.
But once Ming Po removed the photograph, her "trial" was over.
Ming Po's playing grew increasingly fluid.
Sitting elegantly at the piano in the first-floor lobby, he played the soul-healing, lyrical nocturne.
He didn't speak.
For Chizuko, music was a far superior language.
Ming Po hadn't played the piano in a very long time.
He was surprised he could actually play this piece so well. He had originally only intended to play a few measures, but the moment his hands touched the keys, they began moving on their own.
Of course, Ming Po remembered knowing how to play. Yet over a decade had passed since then—he hadn't expected to remember the complete sheet music, let alone retain the muscle memory to play it.
Unless—
At this thought, Ming Po's heart stirred.
It wasn't him playing the piano; the piano was singing on its own.
Could this be—a Treasure?
As the song concluded, even Ming Po felt his heart settle into tranquility.
Only then did he speak, his voice soft and calm. "You did nothing wrong, Chizuko. You were never wrong, right from the very beginning.
"In the beginning, you only wanted your mother and father to stop arguing.
"You just wanted them to live happily together.
"And now, you only wish to protect your fortune."
Ming Po's voice was low and rhythmic, carrying a strangely relaxing and captivating charm.
"Of course you did nothing wrong."
He spoke quietly, like a low murmur in her ear. "You are a good child, Chizuko.
"You certainly know how arduous and dangerous the Game of Deception is. Every single chip is stained with blood; not a single one is free from sin.
"When you chose to alter the past, correcting history to resurrect the 'you' who never became a Deceiver of the World—you were destined to remain here forever.
"Deceivers of the World embody that exact saying: the happy me ascends to heaven in blissful ignorance, while the suffering me is consciously imprisoned in hell.
"She obtained everything you ever wanted. Your parents living together in deep affection; while not incredibly wealthy, there is no pain, misunderstanding, or arguing. Your father isn't overly busy, and your mother isn't jealous. Your life is comfortable—and you don't bear so much pressure.
"The price is that you must be trapped here, almost eternally. Yet if you ever leave this prison, it means the illusory dream you so desperately yearned for has shattered; she has once again become a Deceiver of the World and needs to utilize the Treasure you have so bitterly guarded.
"Are you jealous of her? Are you jealous of—yourself?
"Are you jealous of that blissfully ignorant version of yourself—who abandoned you yet lives the life you always dreamed of?"
"—No."
A childish yet cold voice rang out. "She is also me. Her happiness is my happiness."
It seemed she had finally been swayed by Ming Po's words.
A girl slowly walked over from the direction Ming Po had just taken.
She possessed a delicate, youthful face and straight black hair that reached her waist. She wore the same white dress as the girl in the photograph. She walked with her chest out and her head held high, as if she had practiced dance. That upright posture brought gardenias to mind.
The only issue was that beneath Chizuko's feet, there was no shadow.
The light passed right through her body to cast on the floor, and she made absolutely no sound as she walked.
A ghost.
This was not Chizuko's true nature—a Paradox was a real, existing entity, not a ghost or monster.
It was just that Chizuko believed her state of existence was closer to a ghost. Thus, within this space formed by her own lingering obsession, she became an untouchable phantom, exactly as she desired.
Chizuko looked incredibly small.
If Ming Po had married right after graduating from university, his own daughter probably wouldn't be much younger than Chizuko.
Yet at such a young age, she had already engaged in life-and-death struggles with others in the Game of Deception.
Ming Po looked at her with pity and affection.
He reached out and gestured, inviting Chizuko to sit beside him.
The seat by the piano in the first-floor lobby was a bench designed to accommodate two people playing a duet.
Chizuko hesitated briefly, then obediently walked over slowly and silently.
She carefully sat down next to him.
There was a gap of at least two seat widths between them.
Clearly, she was still wary of Ming Po—though, naturally, not by much.
Ming Po merely smiled and shook his head. Lowering his head like a gentle teacher, he asked, "If that's the case, why do you refer to that child as 'she'?"
Chizuko's eyes widened slightly.
Momentarily at a loss for words, she was unsure of how to defend herself.
"Don't feel guilty, and don't suffer. It isn't your fault."
Ming Po spoke slowly, reaching out to press two keys. "This—is."
Chizuko looked at the piano, her mood sinking. "I know."
"Taking your anger out on it, right?"
Ming Po smiled faintly, uttering incredibly cruel words: "After all, no matter how much you torture this piano, your father will never come back."
Bang!
The moment Ming Po's words landed, an irritable, chaotic discord erupted as the piano lid suddenly slammed shut on its own!
Carrying the dangerous momentum of a guillotine, it nearly snapped Ming Po's fingers clean off!