Chapter 46: Flesh Eating |
Yang Yundong, of course, had also noticed the faces on the ceiling, staring down at them with an unnerving stillness.
His brow tightened. He took three incense sticks from the altar and spoke without turning around. "We’ve all eaten the divine flesh, and now we're tainted by that sin. We need to pay our respects immediately, then we can search for clues."
No one disagreed. The tattooed woman’s fate was a stark warning, and no one knew when the strange transformation might take hold of them.
Zhu Ling also picked up three sticks of incense, but she didn't step forward. Instead, she lingered to one side, her eyes fixed on Yang Yundong.
Seemingly oblivious, Yang Yundong knelt before the altar, holding the three slender incense sticks in his right hand. He bowed three times.
Blood dripped from his soaked military greatcoat, forming an irregular pool on the floor before the altar.
Qi Si noticed several wisps of black smoke curling up from behind the memorial tablets, twisting together as they reached the faces on the ceiling.
He wasn't sure if it was just a trick of the light, but he had the distinct feeling that the faces were smiling, as if something had just occurred that played right into their hands.
Yang Yundong completed his obeisance and rose slowly. He swayed, on the verge of collapsing, but managed to steady himself using the broadsword tucked under his arm for support.
It was a terrible omen. For people, "three long and two short" signified death. For incense, "two short and one long" was just as dire.
Zhao Feng was the first to react. "Get out of here!" he yelled.
But his warning was unnecessary. The moment things went wrong, Qi Si had already stepped back and slipped out of the ancestral hall.
Zhou Yilin had also darted out of the hall. She looked fragile, but her reflexes were even quicker than Qi Si's.
The others realized something was wrong, but it was too late. The doors of the ancestral hall slammed shut with a deafening *bang*, sealing the remaining four people inside.
Beneath a pale sky, the ancient hall crouched like a monstrous beast. Outside, the fields stretched out, desolate and empty, with no sign of another soul as far as the eye could see.
A biting wind swept up from the flat ground, rustling Qi Si's and Zhou Yilin's clothes. The chill seeped in through their collars, the fabric whispering around them.
Zhou Yilin began to sob again. "Are... are they going to die? I’m so scared..."
"They won't die," Qi Si stated, his tone flat. "It's just the two of us now. Let's talk about the matter of you altering my clue."
Zhou Yilin's sobs hitched. She stammered, "I-I'm sorry. Zhu Ling made me do it... I kept trying to find a way to warn you..."
Qi Si didn't look at her. His gaze remained fixed on the tightly sealed doors of the ancestral hall. Their dark, somber hue was thick and imposing, and for some reason, it brought to mind the image of congealed blood.
He continued, "Zhou Yilin, from what I gather, Zhu Ling wanted one thing and one thing only: to get rid of Yang Yundong. Even if she had to alter another player's clue to cover her tracks, the solitary Yin Lina would have been a far more suitable target than me."
"You took it upon yourself to change my clue and drag me into this, infringing on my interests to shatter the bystander effect. Then you gave me a hint beforehand, signaling an intention to cooperate and setting me against her. My guess is, you want to eliminate her. Am I right?"
Qi Si spoke calmly, as if he had witnessed the entire sequence of events firsthand.
The timid look on Zhou Yilin's face dissolved, replaced by a composure that bordered on cold indifference.
The tearful quaver vanished from her voice in an instant. She tilted her head. "So you figured it out. Well then, what's your decision?"
...
Inside the ancestral hall, Zhang Licai was the first to recover from the shock. With a wail, he threw himself against the heavy doors, pushing with all his might.
The wood groaned under the strain, but the doors didn't budge—not even a crack appeared. It was as if some immense force was holding them shut from the other side.
Zhao Feng aimed a kick at the door, then drew his conclusion. "It's sealed tight. We're not getting out this way."
Zhu Ling, maintaining a fragile composure, offered her analysis. "We must have triggered a death condition. At least one of us has to die, or there's no way out."
Yang Yundong turned his head, his deep-set eyes sweeping over Zhu Ling, but he said nothing.
In the depths of his mind, Qi Si's words churned like a relentless tide.
"Yang Yundong, survival and the pursuit of self-interest are the most fundamental laws of nature. Under the new rules of this bizarre game, the social norms and morals that maintain the collective good in the real world are obsolete. It's a shame that countless tamed sheep are still fooled by that lie. Out of cowardice or a herd mentality, they willingly surrender their own interests, only to be exploited...’"
"'The rule-followers hand over their grain and starve, while the opportunists guard the granaries, living like kings. They use arbitrary standards—class, stance, ideology—to splinter the group into fragments, inciting one faction to enact tyranny upon another. It's laughable, isn't it? But that is the true nature of what humanity calls social order.’"
The questions echoed in his memory, each one laced with a bone-chilling malice that made him feel as though he'd been plunged into a pit of ice.
Yang Yundong closed his eyes. Over forty years of his life flowed through his mind like a river, the memories fading, growing faint, until they reached a certain point and congealed into something as thick and black as ink.
He saw a great fire. He saw faces contorted in agony. He saw countless mangled corpses...
"'Yang Yundong, it's clear you still can't accept these new rules. The truth of this world conflicts with your life's experience, and it's tearing you apart. Since that's the case, why prolong your suffering? Instead of trying to guilt-trip others with your morals, why not just become a martyr for that outdated code? I might even respect you more for it...'"
Something flickered in Yang Yundong's mind, yet it felt as if he couldn't grasp a single coherent thought. He looked up, his gaze hardening.
The faces on the ceiling dissolved into black smoke, which swirled around the four trapped players. Within the coalescing vapor, countless eyes seemed to peer out—eyes filled with pain, greed, resentment, and sorrow, layered one upon another like the scales of a fish.
Howls of varying pitches merged into a single, plaintive cry:
"Flesh... Flesh... Give us flesh..."
Zhao Feng was the first to be targeted. The smoky faces scraped against his arm several times.
He swore under his breath, then took out his blade, carved a chunk of flesh from his own arm, and tossed it into the black smoke.
A wet chewing sound lasted for a moment, then stopped. But the howling didn't cease. The faces were like insatiable beggars, relentlessly demanding more. Zhao Feng's expression soured. Just then, Qi Si's words echoed in his mind:
"'Everyone only has so much flesh to give. The optimal solution is to choose a sacrifice...'"
"'As long as we eliminate the strongest among us and gain a numerical advantage, we can decide anyone's fate...'"
A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. Zhao Feng deliberately quieted his footsteps, silently circling behind Yang Yundong.
If he could just kill this self-righteous leader, the alliance between him and Qi Si could seize control...
Zhao Feng glanced around. Zhang Licai was still crouched by the door, trying to figure a way out, oblivious to what was happening. Zhu Ling, however, was looking right at him, her gaze conveying a silent, mutual understanding.
And Yang Yundong, through it all, never once turned around.
...
[Rules have been updated]
[3. The spirits of the ancestral hall are perpetually hungry. Before paying respects, it is best to prepare an ample offering of flesh—the total amount equivalent to one adult human. No more, no less.]
Qi Si saw the new text appear on the system interface, and the faintest of smiles touched his lips.
Beside him, Zhou Yilin immediately dropped into a crouch, hugging her knees and trembling like a leaf as she wept.
Qi Si glanced at her. "Always putting on this weak, timid act. Is that some kind of twisted hobby of yours?"
Zhou Yilin sniffled and nodded. "Mhm. It's fun."
"..."
A few seconds later, the doors to the hall were pushed open from within. Zhao Feng emerged first, covered in blood, followed by Zhu Ling.
Zhang Licai was slumped on the floor beside a skeleton, looking as if he'd been frightened out of his mind.
Qi Si could see that aside from the head—which was intact and clearly identifiable as Yang Yundong's—the skeleton had been picked clean. From the torso to the limbs, not a single shred of flesh remained.
It was obvious what had happened inside the hall. Yang Yundong had died at Zhao Feng's hand, his body offered up as sustenance for the hungry spirits.
Qi Si had foreseen Yang Yundong's end as early as the bus ride, right after the players had finished introducing themselves.
In a zero-sum game, a player like him—stronger than the rest in both prestige and ability, but without an overwhelming advantage—was inevitably going to be targeted and eliminated by a coalition.
The only real question was when and where he would die to ensure the maximum benefit for everyone else.
All Qi Si had done was use his words to turn Yang Yundong into a common enemy, stoking Zhao Feng's resentment and nurturing Zhu Ling's fear.
With the stage set, it was only a matter of time before someone seized the opportunity to strike the fatal blow, while the others implicitly agreed to stand by and let the murder happen.
"'And now you know," Qi Si murmured, his eyes on the skeleton on the floor. He let out a sigh. "Good people don't last long."
Things could have turned out differently. If Yang Yundong had simply agreed to cooperate, Qi Si could have controlled Zhou Yilin and Zhang Licai ahead of time, and it would be their lives being fed to the spirits right now.
But unfortunately, Yang Yundong chose a different path, creating a stalemate between two opposing pairs and making Zhang Licai the crucial swing vote.
"Willing to die just to give the 'innocents' a chance to live... How interesting."
Qi Si tapped a finger against his chin. Looking at Yang Yundong's remains brought him no sense of excitement. Instead, he felt a strange urge to dissect the man's brain and see how it was wired.
Fortunately, he always built flexibility into his plans. This unexpected turn of events didn't significantly disrupt his overall strategy.
The dark-haired young man raised a hand to hide the peculiar smile spreading across his face. In a voice meant only for himself and the empty air, he murmured, "Everyone has to die eventually. And I never said my allegiance was with the players."
The sun had risen above the treetops. Its rays slanted through the open doorway of the hall, casting pale light and long shadows on the ground. A few beams fell upon the skeleton, but they offered no warmth, remaining as cold as ice.
As if aware of its own death, the skeleton of Yang Yundong ceased its pointless struggles. Instead, it propped itself up, straining to turn over.
Qi Si watched for a moment, intrigued. He found that, for some reason, he understood exactly what the man wanted.
He lowered his hand and walked over. He mouthed a silent question to the briefly animated corpse, asking if it wanted to see the sun one last time. From the empty sockets of the skull, he read a clear affirmation.
And so he bent down, ignoring the filth and gore, and gently turned the ruined skeleton over.
Yang Yundong's skull now lay facing the sky, its empty eyes staring upward. It made no sound, offered no last words, much like the young man, Allen, who had died in the village chief's house.
Qi Si crouched beside it, quietly watching as the last flicker of animation subsided, until it finally became nothing more than a corpse.
After a long silence, Zhu Ling wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "The death trap is over," she said. "Let's go back inside, pay our respects, and then search for clues... We can't let Yang Yundong's sacrifice be for nothing."
No one objected.
The players filed silently back into the ancestral hall. One by one, they took incense from the altar and knelt, their movements as devout as true believers.
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