Chapter 85: Puzzle |
Later that evening, Yuna brought the Sleep Aid Soup.
It was two full bowls again, which she placed steadily on the bedside table.
Qi Si asked, "Everyone gets one bowl of Sleep Aid Soup per day, is that right?"
Yuna looked up, her vacant eyes meeting Qi Si's. They were clear and devoid of emotion. "The number of bowls matches the number of people who booked rooms."
Qi Si raised an eyebrow.
Xu Maochun had booked a room last night but received no soup, while he and Chang Xu shared a room and received two bowls. The answer was obvious.
A faint dimple graced Yuna's pale face. "I like you," she said, "so I brought their Sleep Aid Soup to you."
It was a classic manipulation tactic: create a sense of indebtedness by doing something unethical for someone, making them feel guilty, insecure, and anxious.
Too bad for her, Qi Si had never possessed much of a moral compass.
After a few seconds of silence, a crack appeared in Yuna's smile. She raised a hand, gesturing slowly as she spoke. "Pray to the great Sea God. He will grant travelers a peaceful sleep."
[If you wish to pray to Him, please prepare a sufficient offering]
The rule on the system interface was perfectly clear.
Qi Si's eyes narrowed. "What kind of offerings does the great Sea God favor? Or to put it another way, what price must we pay?"
"Wealth, knowledge, life... anything of value can serve as the price." Yuna turned, her body swaying as she walked away, her blue dress flowing behind her like a gentle stream.
"And you?" Qi Si called after her. "What price did you pay, Yuna? If you didn't pay one, then who paid it for you?"
He pitched his voice low, a sinister, bone-chilling coldness lacing his words.
Yuna paused and tilted her head, looking back at him. Her pupil-less blue eyes were as vast and deep as the endless ocean.
She offered no answer, but her lips peeled back into a grin that stretched to her ears, revealing rows of small, sharp teeth.
Before Qi Si could voice his next question, she vanished around the bend in the staircase, the shimmering fabric of her skirt trailing behind her.
...
When Qi Si returned to the room, Chang Xu was staring at the Sleep Aid Soup on the bedside table.
The sound of footsteps brought him back to his senses. He picked up one bowl, gesturing with his eyes for Qi Si to take the other.
Ever since they'd agreed to cooperate, the man had developed a peculiar insistence on doing everything together—even drinking their soup.
Qi Si knew it was because of his own poor reputation; Chang Xu was terrified of any deviation from the plan, fearing he'd be duped again.
He pretended not to notice, offering a sad, bitter smile. "Chang Xu," he began, "do you think Xu Maochun would still be alive if I hadn't been rooming with you?"
Chang Xu shot him a surprised glance, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.
Since when did this guy, who could backstab someone without a second thought, feel sorry for anyone?
Still, he followed Qi Si's lead and considered the question. "Yuna is the one who distributes the Sleep Aid Soup," he remarked. "She was responsible for Xu Maochun's death."
This was a fact, and the most rational perspective.
But Qi Si shook his head. "Have you ever considered, Chang Xu, that when the overall probability of survival is fixed, one person's gain is another's loss?"
"The number of survivors is fixed. For one person to live, another must die. Every person who makes it out alive is a murderer. It's only because of the diffusion of responsibility that the guilt can't be assigned to any one individual... Among all of us players, who is truly innocent?"
Chang Xu's brow furrowed, and he subconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. "We're all guilty. The moment we entered this game, innocence became a luxury we couldn't afford. Our duty is to survive, to clear the Final Instance. When that happens, everyone who has died can be brought back to life."
Qi Si sighed. "But in thirty-six years, no one has ever reached the Final Instance. How can you be so sure it isn't a lie? And even if it is real, what right does anyone have to decide who dies now and who gets to live later?"
Chang Xu fell silent for a long moment before replying, "I'm no saint. My priority is my own survival, but I'll save who I can along the way. I'd save people I know and care about before strangers, of course. But no matter the circumstances, I would never harm someone else just to live. There are lines you just don't cross. Once you do, you're no different from a demon or a wild animal."
"So it's just utilitarianism, ranking people's lives..." Qi Si mused. He picked up one of the bowls, set it on the nightstand on the other side of the room, and then asked with deliberate gravity, "So, Chang Xu, what if there were only one bowl of soup for the two of us? What would you do then?"
Chang Xu answered without a moment's hesitation. "We'd each drink half."
Qi Si let out a derisive laugh. "If one person drinks the whole bowl, one of us is guaranteed to survive. If we split it, there's a fifty-percent chance we both die. Factor in the reduced dosage and a little something called Murphy's Law, and splitting it almost certainly means we both die."
Chang Xu caught the unspoken implication in Qi Si's words, and his eyes darkened.
He could never make the ultimate sacrifice, and he was accustomed to fighting his way through life's struggles. But his superiors at the Weird Investigation Bureau had drilled it into him time and again: save who you can, harm no one...
"You've already made your choice, haven't you, Chang Xu?" Qi Si said with a smile. "Let me give you some advice. If we ever find ourselves in that situation and you want to sleep peacefully, you should kill me first. You know, just in case I get bored from insomnia and decide to stab you a few times."
The words, spoken so casually, were jarring. Yet Chang Xu knew it was the most logical choice. Any other path would likely lead to the worst possible outcome: both of them dead.
But... to survive, did he really have to kill an innocent person?
Chang Xu lowered his eyes. "If I'd known the number of rooms determined the number of soup bowls," he said quietly, "I wouldn't have agreed to share one."
"Too bad there are no 'what ifs' in life," Qi Si replied. Having successfully manipulated his companion's train of thought, he leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes. "And another thing—if you don't want your soup, just throw it out. Time's running out. It'll be useless soon."
A question flickered in Chang Xu's eyes, but he didn't press the matter. He reached for his bowl and drank it all in one go.
He didn't check to see if Qi Si had drunk his.
Qi Si listened as his roommate's breathing grew deep and steady. The Sleep Aid Soup had clearly done its work.
He silently opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
The grooves between the wooden planks twisted into pitted scars, dotted here and there like the blisters of some grotesque disease.
He let his eyes go out of focus, the world dissolving into a blur of indistinct shapes and colors, and began to replay every event that had occurred since he'd entered the instance.
The distorted timeline, the shipwrecked beach, the white statue, Yuna, Lu Li...
Scenes and characters, images and colors, expressions and lines—he rearranged them all in his mind, replaying them like a stage drama.
He fast-forwarded through some parts, slowed others down, and finally isolated two key moments.
The discussion about cooperation on the first evening. The speculation about the murderer on the second. Other players came and went, each playing their part, but one person always remained center stage, the lead actor...
Qi Si cast the murderer as the protagonist and tried to think from their perspective.
"If I had discovered clues about an altar, I would need to verify them. The easiest way would be to lure other players into testing the danger for me."
"If I tried to stop other players, it would only be because I was already certain the clues were genuine and that there was something there I absolutely had to obtain."
"I have an accomplice—let's assume they're trustworthy for now. I managed to confirm the critical clues on the very first day, which suggests I'm quite capable. Under these conditions, the best way to get what I want from this instance would be to establish myself as the leader..."
"Heh. I really hope it's not you."
The toll of a bell shattered his train of thought. Sensing something, Qi Si lifted his gaze toward the window.
Dong... dong... dong... Ten tolls echoed, one after another, through the silent world before fading just as quickly into stillness.
Qi Si sat up, took his bowl of soup, and with a flick of his wrist, poured its entire contents onto the floor.
He was already a piece on the board, and he had no desire to be maneuvered by the game's master. What he wanted, what he had always wanted, was to overturn the board itself.
A dark stain spread across the wooden floorboards. The light in the room dimmed abruptly as a gray mist seeped through the cracks around the window and door. It carried the briny stench of the sea, clinging to the walls and condensing into fine beads of moisture that soaked into the rotting wood within seconds.
Bang! The window flew open, revealing a sickly, ochre sky looming over the bed.
The clouds roiled, clumping together in uneven masses that looked like the festering pustules on burned skin.
And there, nestled among the clouds, Qi Si saw a colossal golden eye, gazing down in silence.