Chapter 9: The Manor Breakfast |
He acts so aloof, yet he’s completely unguarded in the details?
Qi Si raised an eyebrow, letting a flicker of curiosity show in his eyes.
“This was my reward for a perfect clear on my first instance,” Chang Xu said, his tone flat.
So, it was possible to get items in one instance and carry them over to another.
Qi Si toyed with the Fate Pocket Watch, his eyes crinkling into a smile. “I’m quite envious. A time-related item... couldn’t be more perfect for this instance, could it?”
Chang Xu didn’t take the bait. After a two-second pause, he extended his hand, his expression blank. “Give it back.”
Qi Si knew when to quit. He placed the watch, barely warmed by his touch, back into Chang Xu’s palm.
The name alone told him it was something special. He wanted it badly, but... Chang Xu looked like he could handle himself in a fight.
The guy might not have much of a guard up, but as a veteran player, he was no fool. Swiping an item from him wouldn't be that easy.
“Is that so?” Qi Si offered a polite smile. “You have a sharp eye.” He was impressed that the man could spot the bracelet's hidden nature with just a look.
Chang Xu took it as a comment on his ability to identify items at a glance.
He didn't seem suspicious. With a slight nod, he turned and headed down the stairs.
As Chang Xu’s figure disappeared down the stairwell, the smile vanished from Qi Si’s face.
The bracelet on his right wrist was custom-made in the real world; it couldn't possibly be related to the Weird Game. So why did Chang Xu assume it was an item? Unless...
Qi Si realized that since the instance began, he was the only player carrying a weapon.
At first, he’d assumed the others were just as cautious as he was, keeping their weapons concealed. But now, another possibility occurred to him: perhaps real-world weapons, like cell phones and other electronics, couldn't be brought into the game at all.
Under normal circumstances, the only things one could carry into an instance were items acquired from a previous one.
“So what’s the deal with my bracelet?” he wondered. “A glitch in the game?”
A dozen possibilities flashed through Qi Si’s mind, but this wasn't the time to dwell on them. With so little information, any conclusion would be pure speculation—a waste of time.
He turned to Yezi, who was standing nearby, and offered a faint smile. “Chang Xu’s name is a little clearer now. So, my question is for you. Yezi, why were you so convinced Shen Ming wouldn’t die? Is there something you know?”
Yezi crossed her arms, a sneer on her lips. “And how can you prove you and Chang Xu aren’t working together? That little performance just now was probably an act to clear his name and pin the suspicion on me.”
It was a classic case of turning the tables. Qi Si tilted his head, his smile disarmingly sincere. “Oh, you figured it out. Yes, that’s exactly it. But what are you going to do about it?”
He’d already made his judgment: Yezi and Shen Ming almost certainly knew each other in the real world.
During the initial introductions, they had put on an act, pretending to be strangers, all in preparation to seize control of the narrative and mislead the other players.
Too bad for them, Shen Ming had died before their plan could fully unfold.
Yezi studied Qi Si’s expression and listened to his tone. She could tell he was the kind of person who couldn’t be swayed, so she simply pressed her lips together and fell silent.
Information was the foundation of this game. In a zero-sum contest, any statement could be a lie, and any truth could be deliberately concealed.
Lying was fair game; getting caught just meant you weren’t good enough at it. There was no point in trying to dress it up.
It was nearly time. The players gradually gathered at the long table on the first floor, taking their seats one by one.
Even Lin Chen, scared out of his wits, made it downstairs before the chimes rang out again, nervously adhering to the rules displayed on the system interface.
Shen Ming’s absence drained the room of the lively atmosphere from the previous evening. Yezi’s gaze kept drifting to the empty seat, and Lin Chen quickly pieced together what had happened, his lips pressed into a tight line.
The most experienced veteran of their group was dead, an undeniable omen. The web of suspicion now growing between the survivors was an even worse sign. A heavy silence filled the room, broken only when the mechanical clock in the corner clumsily chimed six times.
Miss Anna emerged from the shadows, clad in a long black gown, followed by the butler, who moved like a lifeless mannequin.
The woman, as tall and thin as a specter, glided to the head of the table and sat with practiced elegance. A smile played on her lips as she surveyed the guests, her gaze slithering over them, damp and unpleasant like a half-rotted palm leaf after a storm.
As the butler pushed a cart forward and began setting the table, her eyes lingered on Shen Ming’s empty seat for a moment. She then covered her mouth with a hand, a smile crinkling her eyes. “My dear guests, I do hope you all had a pleasant evening.”
Her voice was filled with warmth, the typical polite greeting of a gracious host. But given the circumstances, it dripped with malicious glee.
Qi Si broke the silence unexpectedly. “It was a very pleasant night, thank you for your hospitality. But I was wondering, might I be so bold as to ask you a few questions?”
The other players froze, then immediately strained to listen, their attention fixed on the exchange.
In the ensuing silence, Miss Anna gave a slight nod.
Qi Si got straight to the point. “Miss Anna, you’re very fond of roses, aren’t you?”
“Yes, roses. I do love roses,” Miss Anna repeated with a smile. “They are the most beautiful things in this world...”
“And you like them when they’re in bloom, but you hate them when they wither. Is that right?”
A hint of sorrow touched Miss Anna’s smile. “Yes. A withered rose is no longer beautiful... I adore beauty and despise ugliness...”
“You once had a beautiful sister, is that correct?”
“Yes, I once had...” Miss Anna began, but the words caught in her throat as if an invisible hand were choking her, cutting the sentence short.
Her expression instantly shifted to one of panic, like a creature of shadow suddenly dragged into the light. A mixture of bewilderment and resentment twisted her features as she began muttering incomprehensible phrases.
So, NPCs wouldn’t lie, but could they refuse to answer?
Qi Si knew he couldn’t press the matter any further.
If he triggered some special event, he wasn't sure if the others would die, but he had a strong feeling that he wouldn't make it out alive.
The castle breakfast was simple: wheat bread, wine, and an apple—a combination that hardly suited the palates of any of the players at the table.
The atmosphere was already stagnant and oppressive, thanks to the death and the resulting chain of suspicion. With Miss Anna now wearing a menacing scowl after Qi Si's questioning, most of the players found it difficult to stomach their food.
Qi Si, however, had never been a picky eater. No matter how unappetizing the breakfast in the instance was, it was still an improvement on the slapdash meals he usually made for himself in the real world.
He calmly cut his bread into small pieces with his knife and fork, chewing each bite thoroughly. He occasionally took a sip of wine from his glass, looking utterly at ease.
Across from him, Chang Xu was also eating with meticulous care, his jaws working constantly like a hamster’s. Perhaps he genuinely found the manor’s breakfast to be quite good.
The sight of the two eating so calmly had a motivating effect. One by one, the others picked up their cutlery and began to eat as well.
After finishing his own portion, Qi Si wiped his mouth with a napkin and discreetly slipped it into his pocket.
He grabbed an apple, murmured an “excuse me,” and stood. Walking over to the foot of the stairs, he paused at the edge of the shadows and shot Lin Chen a look.
Lin Chen had been on edge the entire time. Seeing Qi Si’s insistent gaze, he hesitated for a moment, anxious, but ultimately got up and followed.
Qi Si led the way in silence. Once on the second floor, he stopped in front of the enormous mechanical clock.
Once he judged they were out of earshot of the others downstairs, he turned to face Lin Chen, his expression serious. “There’s something I forgot to tell you,” he said, his voice low. “The Weird Game has a sort of protective mechanism. After a certain number of players die, the rest can clear the instance safely. And they get better rewards for it.”
He repeated the information he’d gotten from Yezi, then let out a quiet sigh. “I suspect someone among the five of us will try to kill the others.”
Comments 1