Chapter 44: A Night of Terror |
The four lines of poetry that appeared this time were scrawled in a messy hand, several characters smudged with ink blots. The panic behind the words seemed to leap off the page.
"'Two people should not occupy the same room?'" Qi Si narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips as he mulled over the poem's hidden meaning.
Two people couldn't share a room.
There were six guest rooms in total. Not counting the tattooed woman, who was already on the verge of death, that was exactly enough for each of the remaining players to have their own room.
The instruction was clear enough.
Everything was falling into place too easily. That, combined with the note from Zhou Yilin, felt utterly suspicious.
But for Qi Si, it hardly mattered.
He already had a theory about how to clear this instance and was eager for a death trigger to test it. The arrival of an event like this played right into his hands.
Danger and opportunity always went hand in hand. Qi Si had never been one to shy away from risks or gambles. If he won, the rewards would be immense. If he lost... it was only death.
An unknown amount of time passed before a faint, hesitant sobbing echoed from the distance. It was a thin, thread-like sound, haunting and sorrowful, stirring an involuntary pang of grief in the listener's heart.
Qi Si listened for a moment before asking patiently, "What are you crying for?"
There was no reply.
The impenetrable darkness, where one couldn't even see their own hand, was now dotted with faint, yellow points of spectral light. A cold gust of wind swept through, leeching the warmth from his body and leaving a chill that instantly chased away any lingering sleepiness.
The sobbing, which had sounded so distant just moments ago—as if from a far corner of the courtyard—was suddenly much closer. It was unmistakably coming from beneath the bed.
Qi Si lowered his gaze to the space under the bed.
A ghostly hand, as gaunt and withered as a chicken's claw, emerged from the shadows. It gripped the edge of the mattress, using the leverage to haul its skeletal frame out, inch by agonizing inch.
...Pardon the intrusion.
Without a moment's hesitation, Qi Si drew the awl from his bracelet, aimed for the bulging veins on the creature's knuckles, and stabbed.
The sobbing escalated into a sharp shriek. The hand recoiled in pain, and the creature fell stiffly to the floor.
[Side Quest Updated]
[Side Quest (Mandatory): Repel the Starving Ghosts]
Two lines of silver-white text appeared on his system interface, starkly vivid against the dark backdrop of the night.
Qi Si glanced out the window.
In the spectral glow, a series of stooped, emaciated shadows fell upon the dusty window frame, their blurred edges merging into a single, ominous mass.
Something had been drawn here by the creature's sobbing—these must be the "starving ghosts" mentioned in the prompt.
Qi Si held his breath. In the oppressive silence, the whistle of the wind against the windowpane sounded exceptionally shrill.
A chorus of unsettling crunching and grinding noises rose and fell, like a beast gnawing on the bones of its prey, or the webbed feet of some colossal creature splintering hardwood underfoot.
Whatever was outside seemed to have chosen its target. The cacophony of sounds closed in on Qi Si's room from all sides.
"Knock. Knock. Knock."
The window was tapped lightly, followed by a sharp crack. A hole appeared in the glass where it had been struck, and a web of fractures spread out like the veins on a cicada's wing.
Qi Si watched as two hands squeezed through the hole, jostling for space as they entered the room.
The hands were of different sizes, clearly belonging to two separate beings, yet their skin was identical—as dry and shriveled as tree bark, far beyond anything belonging to the living.
A flesh-colored mucus coated the hands, with a fine mesh of blood vessels connecting it to the skin as if it were an extension of the limbs themselves.
The limbs were malleable as tentacles, contorting their shape to squeeze through the hole in the window. Now they were inching closer to Qi Si, barely a meter from his bed in the cramped room.
[Prerequisite Hint: A bloody truth lies buried in the villagers' fragmented accounts. Uncover this truth and recite it at the proper moment, and the villagers will be unable to harm you.]
The prerequisite hint shimmered on his system interface. Qi Si reached under his pillow, grabbed the recorder he had stashed there, and pressed play.
A'Xi's clear, childish voice cut meticulously through the darkness:
"[The year is hungry, the year is long, / With no rice or flour, where all goes wrong.]"
"[By the shrine, 'neath the locust's shade, / A great pot's set, a feast is made.]"
The recorded recitation sounded distorted and muffled, but mingling with the incessant night wind, the poor audio quality only made it sound more authentic.
...*You want me to solve your riddle? Fine. I'll just recite the riddle back to you. Let's see how you handle that.*
Qi Si turned the volume knob. The chanting grew louder, and within seconds, it completely drowned out the sobbing from under the bed, dominating the small room.
The two ghoulish hands caught in the window froze, as if trying to decipher the message in the sound, hesitating to advance any further.
Immediately after the first, a second nursery rhyme began to play from the recorder in the same chanting tone, cutting through the silence with startling clarity.
"[Sister and brother to Grandma's for a stay, / A child's flesh is tender, a tasty display, / And Grandma's mouth watered to eat them that day.]"
"[That night sister heard a *crunch, crunch, crunch* deep, / 'What is that noise, Grandma, while I'm asleep?' / 'Just some roasted old beans, a secret to keep.']"
"[The next day her brother was gone from the bed, / Sister searched high and low, filled with dread, / Found a pile of his bones in the corner instead.]"
The nursery rhyme, so sinister by day, now filled the night with a bizarrely festive air.
It was, without a doubt, A'Xi's voice, and it began to loop, playing over and over.
"[The year is hungry, the year is long...]"
At last, the ghoulish hands seemed to make a decision. They slid back out through the hole in the window as slickly as eels and vanished into the sprawling shadows outside, as if they had never been there at all.
The dim, yellow lights swayed away like distant lanterns, and the row of stooped figures at the window scattered, melting back into the deeper darkness.
[Side Quest Completed]
Qi Si glanced at the system interface, his fingers brushing against the Fate Pocket Watch in his pocket. He felt an itch of temptation.
He called out suddenly, "Hey, you're leaving already?"
The words had barely left his lips when the ghoulish hands and shadows returned.
The sticky, purulent hands squeezed through the hole once more. The figures pressed their faces flat against the window, their bloodshot eyes practically glued to the glass as their gaze rolled across the room.
Clutching the cool metal of the Fate Pocket Watch, Qi Si met their gaze directly. "If you have a request, or some lingering wish, feel free to speak up. Perhaps we can make a deal..."
His answer was a deafening crash. The entire window exploded inward, showering the floor with shards of glass.
A sinister rustling filled the air, accompanied by a thick, putrid stench that churned his stomach. Qi Si's eyelid twitched. He immediately raised the recorder and cranked the volume to maximum.
But perhaps because he had so blatantly tempted fate, the recording had no effect this time. It didn't even cause the things outside to hesitate for a second.
It was too late. Countless shadows poured through the gaping window frame and lunged for him...
At the last possible second, Qi Si twisted the dial on the Fate Pocket Watch. [Effect Activated: Time Reversal - One Minute. This effect cannot be used again in the current instance.]
A cold, electronic voice echoed in the air. Qi Si held his breath, watching through narrowed eyes as the horde of shadows retreated back out the window in a comical, lurching reverse.
Shards of glass flew up from the floor, tracing their paths in reverse to reassemble in the window frame, leaving only the small, original hole.
Droplets of mucus lifted from the floor and re-adhered to the ghoulish skin as the hands withdrew through the small hole.
The [Fate Pocket Watch]'s single use for this instance was now spent. Qi Si didn't dare push his luck again.
He sat perfectly still, waiting until time had fully rewound to one minute prior.
"[The year is hungry, the year is long...]"
The nursery rhyme, already on its third loop, echoed crisply in his ears.
Qi Si listened listlessly to the [Side Quest Completed] notification, thinking with a profound sense of boredom, *So they can't take a bit of teasing? Not even allowing a conversation with the monsters... what a dull design.*
As if to placate his disgruntled thoughts, new text appeared a moment later.
[Congratulations, you have obtained the clue: "The Starving Ghosts' Lingering Resentment"]
[Did they truly die of starvation? Was their fate a just punishment, or the beginning of another wicked feast?]
[The coming and going of crowds, the piles and stacks of money—who devoured their flesh and blood?]
[The ancestral halls, new and old, the densely packed memorial tablets—who suppresses their souls?]
Qi Si's eyes narrowed as he read the final line.
He suddenly knew exactly how to pry the clues from Su Po.
...
Later that night, a soft rustling stirred Zhu Ling from her sleep.
Sensing Zhou Yilin trembling beside her, she whispered, "Yilin, are you still awake?"
"Zhu Ling, I'm scared..." The girl's teeth chattered, her voice trembling with a fear that sounded all too real. "Yang... is he... going to die?"
"Don't be afraid, Yilin." Zhu Ling wrapped an arm around the girl, patting her back soothingly. "Only you and I know about this. And besides, our goal was always to clear the instance quickly so more people could survive, right?"
"To clear the final instance, sacrifices are inevitable. All we can do is follow the Kyushu Guild's example: remember those who have fallen and carry their hopes forward with resolve."
Zhu Ling spoke with an air of noble conviction, the pen-shaped item in her pocket a stark, solid presence.
[Name: Plain Pen]
[Type: Item]
[Effect: Writes or alters strokes]
[Note: Some use it to record stories. Others use it to weave lies.]
It was at Zhu Ling's instruction that Zhou Yilin had insisted on staying behind at the residence.
The clue in the travel brochure was ambiguous; altering a single stroke could drastically change its meaning.
*Chang Xu has already missed his chance to build any authority, Zhao Feng's performance has been pathetic, and Zhang Licai clearly has no mind of his own...*
If Yang Yundong died tonight, the scales of this deadly game would tip entirely in her favor. With four other players under her thumb, how could she fail to clear the instance?
Even if Yang Yundong managed to survive, it wouldn't matter. He was alone and had no proof. The only thing he could do was swallow this silent defeat and wait for the inevitable.
*I'm sorry,* Zhu Ling thought, a silent apology forming in her mind. *I have no other choice. I just want to live...*
She didn't consider herself a bad person. In her previous two instances, she had used her knowledge to save quite a few players. But this instance, she told herself, was different.
This was her third instance. Facing a staggering eighty percent mortality rate, she had to resort to extreme measures to be safe.
In the enveloping darkness, Zhu Ling failed to notice the lips of the girl beside her curl into a sarcastic, taunting smile.
...
Qi Si awoke naturally as the clock struck six.
The languid morning sun slanted through the window, casting a milky-white film over every surface.
Using the faint light, Qi Si glanced under his bed. There was nothing there. The ghoulish hand and the sobbing from the night before felt like a half-remembered nightmare.
He took the travel brochure and stepped outside, his eyes scanning every corner of the courtyard.
The tattooed woman had died after dinner the previous evening. Her body had been left in a corner, but now, only a puddle of viscous slime remained.
Even with no further losses, their group was down to six players. They had lost nearly half their number in just two days. The next three would surely be even more perilous.
Qi Si walked directly to Yang Yundong's room and gave the door two firm knocks.
"Just a second!" a muffled voice called from within. Then, silence.
Qi Si waited patiently. Five minutes later, the door creaked open from the inside.
The metallic tang of blood assaulted his senses, flooding his nostrils.
Yang Yundong was drenched in blood. His left arm looked as though it had been violently torn from its socket, taking the entire sleeve of his army coat with it.
At the mangled stump, slick with gore, the stark white of bone was clearly visible.
"Two nights ago, I promised them meat. Last night, they came to collect." Yang Yundong's eyes were sunken, but his voice was strangely flat. "It's fine. These injuries don't carry over outside the instance. Another two or three days, and this will all be over."
Qi Si studied the man's horrific wound, his tone detached. "Sustained pain and blood loss can send a person into shock. Even with your willpower, endorphins can cloud your judgment. With an injury that severe, you won't survive until the end of the instance."
"I know," Yang Yundong breathed out, a look of grim acceptance settling over his features. "This is my third instance..."
The third instance... a death rate of eighty percent. Crises that struck without warning, and the strongest players were often the first to die for no reason at all. It was as if the Weird Game was deliberately culling the player base, weeding people out before they could get too powerful...
After a long silence, Qi Si offered a wry smile. "Yang, we were both in separate rooms last night, and we both ran into trouble. Don't you think it's possible... that the clue we got was wrong?"
"I think Zhou Yilin was trying to warn me about something yesterday, but I didn't take the hint..."
The young man lowered his head, his expression a perfect blend of frustration and regret, as if he blamed himself for Yang Yundong's injury.
Yang Yundong looked away, his brow furrowed in thought. "The clue I received was: *Let no two souls a single chamber share, / Nor enter the hall but with another there. / Grieve not for the ghost who has newly died, / Why weep for the sin that is cast aside?* Are you saying that clue was fake?"
Qi Si's eyes shot up, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Changing a single character isn't hard... if you have the right item."
Comments 2