Chapter 30: Flesh Eating - The Village |
"Eleven of us on the bus. That should be everyone. Let's start with introductions, shall we?"
A woman with a friendly, round face was the first to speak up. "My name is Zhu Ling," she said with a smile. "You can laugh if you want, but this is my third dungeon. In my day job, I'm a Taoist master, so I know a few tricks for handling the supernatural..."
She carried herself with an easy confidence, the kind that suggested she was no stranger to the bizarre and wasn't fazed by the game.
Her relaxed demeanor immediately cut through the heavy tension, putting the other players at ease.
A few faces visibly brightened. In a team-based dungeon, having someone who knew how to handle the supernatural was a serious advantage, a clear boost to everyone's odds of survival.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared," Zhu Ling admitted, her tone turning more earnest. "I've heard the third dungeon is where a lot of players bite the dust, and I have no idea what we're up against." She paused, looking around. "But I truly believe that if we stick together, we can handle whatever this place throws at us and make it through."
The other players murmured in agreement, carefully avoiding any mention of a "minimum death count."
Introductions went around the bus, moving from front to back, left to right.
Another third-timer was a man in a military greatcoat named Yang Yundong. He was a veteran, now holding a quiet desk job at the public security bureau.
The other rookie was a girl named Zhou Yilin, a freshman at Blue Whale University. She was trembling like a drenched sparrow, thoroughly terrified.
The remaining players were all on their second dungeon. On average, their outward composure was about what you'd expect from a group of first-timers.
When his turn came, Qi Si stated coolly, "Chang Xu. Taxidermist. Second dungeon."
He had used his real name in the first dungeon out of inexperience, worried the game might somehow use it against him and create unnecessary suspicion.
But after scouring the forums and getting a solid grasp of the game's mechanics, that worry was gone. He certainly wasn't about to use his real name again.
He had no intention of screwing over his teammates only to see a new forum thread pop up with the title: "Beware of Qi Si."
As for using the name "Chang Xu"—that was born from a particular dark humor. There was something amusing, Qi Si thought, about tying a victim's name to the villain's misdeeds.
Zhu Ling surveyed the group, her smile unwavering. "I assume everyone saw the pre-dungeon prompt? It sounds like this one might involve a lot of text-based puzzles. Anyone here have a knack for that?"
Sniffling, Zhou Yilin shyly spoke up. "I'm... I'm in the detective club at my university. I play a lot of murder mystery games and solve lateral thinking puzzles... I don't know if that helps?"
The declaration was a little comical coming from someone with a tear-stained face, and a few of the other players let out dismissive snorts.
But Zhu Ling gave her a serious look. "In that case, Yilin, we're counting on you for the puzzles. If we all put our heads together, I know we can survive this."
The bus slammed to a halt without warning, cutting the tender moment short. With a piercing screech of tires, inertia threw everyone forward.
By a stroke of luck, Zhou Yilin was flung back into her seat, her back cushioned by the padding. Zhu Ling wasn't so fortunate; she didn't have time to react and her shoulder smacked against the hard plastic seat back with a dull thud.
Qi Si reacted instantly, throwing his arms up to shield his face and avoiding injury. The portly man next to him wasn't as quick. His face slammed into the seatback, leaving a pale white mark on his cheek when he pulled away.
Once the jarring motion stopped, the players scrambled to right themselves, looking ahead in a disheveled state.
Through the dusty windshield, a dilapidated village came into view.
It was dusk. The sky was a uniform, hazy gray, the sun nowhere to be seen. Shrouded in the gloom, the village looked like it had been cobbled together from mismatched, crumbling stones. A gust of wind stirred up a cloud of dust, and for a moment, the whole place exuded the lifeless air of a dying old man.
Beside the dusty dirt road at the village entrance stood a stone monument, inscribed with three neat calligraphy characters: Su Clan Village.
This was where they would have to survive for the next five days.
"You have reached your destination. Please exit the vehicle immediately."
With a sharp *click*, the bus doors swung open. A hoarse, androgynous recording crackled from the driver's area, punctuated by the *hiss* of static, its tone insistent.
Not daring to linger, the players scrambled to their feet and filed off the bus as quickly as they could.
Qi Si stayed in his seat until everyone else was off, then casually made his way to the driver's area, as if just taking a look around.
A small recorder sat silently on the driver's seat. Nothing else.
Qi Si snatched the recorder, tucking it inside his coat, and stepped off the bus with a flicker of disappointment.
Behind him, the bus doors hissed shut and it sped away, vanishing in a cloud of dust.
An enthusiastic male narrator's voice resonated deep in their minds, delivering a background story that sounded like a tour guide's script:
[Su Clan Village was once a poor, struggling hamlet. Year after year, the harvests failed, and its people went hungry, often forced to beg for food in neighboring towns with their families in tow.]
[During a great famine, when disaster plagued the land, a god took pity on Su Clan Village and sent down divine flesh to help them survive the hardship.] [Many years have passed. The old villagers have died off, one generation after another, but the legend of the divine flesh is told and retold, drawing tourists from far and wide.]
[You eleven are tourists, drawn here by these tales. You will stay in the village for five days to taste the divine flesh and experience the local culture.]
[Enjoy your stay.]
Qi Si's eyebrow twitched at the mention of a "god."
He already knew the Weird Game had a so-called Main God, and the Rose Manor dungeon had featured a deity pulling the strings from behind the curtain. He wondered what kind of entity the "god" in this dungeon would turn out to be.
"Took pity on them? And sent down divine flesh?" Qi Si mulled over the narrator's words. A single phrase surfaced in his mind, unbidden—
"God loves not the world."
Was this dungeon a different beast from the last, he wondered, or was it just the same old filth wearing a mask of serenity?
Straightening her hair, which the sudden stop had disheveled, Zhu Ling offered her own theory. "This talk of 'divine flesh' reminds me of a story. It's said the Buddha once saw a hawk hunting a dove. The dove flew to him for protection, but the hawk argued it would starve without its meal. So, to save both, the Buddha carved a piece of his own flesh and gave it to the hawk."
"Well, if that's the case, this god sounds like a pretty decent fellow," the portly man with the white mark on his face chimed in, rubbing his bald head with a chuckle. "Maybe I can say a prayer and ask him to make me rich."
Qi Si recalled the man's name was Zhang Licai, a crosstalk comedian. His goal in the Weird Game was to pay off the loan sharks and finally buy his own place.
Hearing this, a young man with glasses nearby cut in. "I've spent the last three days reading thousands of forum posts, and the biggest takeaway is this: never trust the game's good intentions. Whenever a god shows up in the lore, you're better off assuming it's the villain."
He then changed tack. "Speaking of which, did anyone find a guide for this dungeon? I don't recall seeing anything about it."
Everyone shook their heads. Qi Si remained impassive.
He'd only bothered with guides that analyzed the game's fundamental mechanics and patterns. He hadn't wasted a single second on walkthroughs for specific dungeons.
The reason was simple: the time investment far outweighed the potential payoff. For Qi Si, if a venture didn't turn a profit, it was a loss—and there was nothing he despised more than a bad deal.
At the head of the group, Yang Yundong, whose stern expression had screamed 'don't mess with me' from the start, looked like he was about to speak. He habitually reached a hand into his greatcoat pocket, fumbling for something.
Finding it empty, he let his hand drop with a flicker of embarrassment, his expression growing even more irritated. "It's a new dungeon," he announced. "In the novice pool, there were four hundred and twenty-nine dungeons that start with the letter 'S'. This is number four hundred and thirty."
Yang Yundong spoke with absolute certainty, and between his confidence and his status as an experienced player and a veteran, the others immediately trusted his assessment.
A grim mood fell over the group. A few players began to swear under their breath.
Every piece of information, every warning for a dungeon, had been bought with the lives of players who came before. Being in the first wave for a new one meant you were the guinea pigs, the cannon fodder sent in to trip the mines. They were going in completely blind, and survival would come down to pure luck.
Zhou Yilin, who was already shaking like a leaf, sensed the shift in atmosphere and burst into tears again. "I don't want to die... *sob*... I didn't know clicking 'Yes' would actually send me here..."
"What's the point of crying? Crying's not gonna do a damn thing!" a disheveled man behind her finally snapped, his voice a harsh bark. "If you're gonna keep blubbering, then get the hell away from me! You're just getting in the way!"
The outburst made Zhou Yilin flinch. She instantly choked back her sobs, but her shoulders continued to tremble. Zhu Ling quickly stepped in, putting a comforting arm around the girl and patting her back while whispering reassurances.
Qi Si watched from the sidelines, completely uninvested. He had already come to a conclusion: while this group might have the same average experience level as his last one, their caliber was worlds apart—and not for the better.
At least Lin Chen hadn't spent half an hour weeping. Chang Xu hadn't berated a rookie. And Shen Ming and Yezi had been far better at hiding their emotions.
"Enough," Yang Yundong cut in, his voice sharp, breaking up the pointless argument. "What kind of man bullies a young girl? Save it. We can talk once we're inside the village." He shot a warning glare at the disheveled man.
The man glanced around. Seeing no one on his side, he fell silent, his expression sullen.
Then Yang Yundong turned to Zhou Yilin. "He's not wrong, you know. You're here now. Crying won't help. You can cry all you want after you make it out of here alive."
Zhou Yilin wiped her eyes and fell quiet. And so the first squabble ended, with both sides getting a mild rebuke.
The sky had already grown dark. Mist swirled just outside the village, and through it, they could make out clusters of dark, swaying shapes that stirred uneasy thoughts. The fog formed a solid ring around them, and it was slowly, steadily closing in, rolling toward them like a tide.
Lingering outside the village was clearly no longer an option.
Without a word, Yang Yundong took the lead and strode into the village. After a moment's hesitation, the others followed suit.
Qi Si hung back, bringing up the rear of the group. He was silently replaying the events since the dungeon began, analyzing each player's reaction.
Eleven people. It was too many, too chaotic. Stepping into the spotlight this early would only expose his own weaknesses and paint a target on his back.
When you lacked the strength to back it up, putting yourself at the center of the storm was nothing short of digging your own grave.
He understood this perfectly. And he was more than happy to hold a gun to the heads of the "good guys" while they dug.
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