Chapter 412: Snow Mountain |
"How much is this prayer wheel?" Qi Si asked the shopkeeper.
This was a shop specializing in Esoteric Buddhist artifacts. On a wooden table directly opposite the entrance was an enshrined statue of Mahakala, its six arms brandished menacingly. On wooden shelves to the side were various ritual instruments: kapalas and bone trumpets, thighbone trumpets and human-skin drums, but most numerous were the prayer wheels.
The shopkeeper, draped in a kasaya robe, sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion. His eyes were shut tight, his left hand thumbing through prayer beads as he chanted under his breath: "Om Ah Hum, may the protector lord bless all living beings; Om Ah Hum, may the god of fortune and virtue grant his grace; Om Ah Hum, may the charnel ground deity watch over the spirits of the dead..."
The low, droning chant, an invocation to Mahakala for blessings, coiled through the cramped room. For some reason, Qi Si could understand it, grasping its purpose. He waited quietly for a moment, but when no answer came, he asked again, "How much for this prayer wheel?"
This time, he picked up a prayer wheel and made a move as if to leave. The shopkeeper finally opened his eyes, his hoarse voice mumbling indistinctly, "Trade it for something you received from the Mother God."
The exact same answer as the bus driver. Qi Si was prepared for this. He retrieved the [Ink Soul Long Scroll] from his inventory and handed it over.
[Name: Ink Soul Long Scroll]
[Type: Item]
[Effect: Opens a door that only spiritual bodies can enter for 60 seconds, suspected to lead to an unknown alternate dimension (24-hour cooldown).]
This item was far from the most useless in Qi Si's possession; in fact, it could be considered quite valuable. If used correctly, it could turn the tide of battle at a critical moment.
Qi Si traded it away with two intentions: to test the instance's mechanics and, in the process, to place a strategic piece on the board.
Yesterday, he had traded the [Ghost Driver's Recorder] for a bus ticket, and that very night, he heard the holy chant being broadcast from a recorder in the inn.
It was a known fact that the holy chant resounded throughout the city when the players entered Shangri-La Town, which meant the NPCs didn't need any items to produce it. The only ones who would need a recorder to capture and play it back were the players.
Qi Si was almost certain that after he'd given it up, the [Ghost Driver's Recorder] had fallen into the hands of another player. As for that person's identity, he had a strong suspicion—
This instance contained "another him." The implication was almost too obvious...
No one knows you better than yourself. Based on this, Qi Si could deduce what his "other self"—let's call him "Zhou Ke" for now—had been up to yesterday.
After getting the [Ghost Driver's Recorder], Zhou Ke would have immediately recorded the full holy chant. Following his usual habits, he would have played it back right after recording and discovered the clue that "the holy chant attracts pilgrims."
A single piece of evidence is never enough, so Zhou Ke would have conducted another experiment at night when the pilgrims appeared en masse. He would have successfully drawn all the city's pilgrims to gather outside the inn, corroborating the conclusion he'd reached during the day.
The players who entered the Final Instance couldn't possibly be limited to just the twenty-two like Qi Si, Fu Jue, and Lin Chen. The other Identity Card holders and their bound followers had to be in this instance as well, just scattered in different places—different timelines or different locations—and had simply not crossed paths with them yet.
Bai Ma had said that twenty-two travelers arrived in Shangri-La twenty-two years ago. Qi Si was inclined to believe that each spacetime contained twenty-two players.
Even if Zhou Ke, Dong Xiwen, and Zhang Yiyu were in the same spacetime, there would still be nineteen others hostile to them—or at the very least, not in the same faction and therefore unable to earn Zhou Ke's trust.
Knowing himself, Qi Si was sure that when faced with such a massive disparity in power, he would inevitably take a risky gamble for a greater prize. His next move would most likely be to seize control through some clever means, forcing the other players to make concessions.
And that means, of course, would be using the holy chant to attract the pilgrims—those very pilgrims who harbored such malice toward players, so eager to "purify" them and redeem their sins.
Once the pilgrims surrounded the inn, the players would be left with only two choices: either compromise with Zhou Ke, or perish along with him. Most rational people would choose the former.
Of course, Zhou Ke's plan had one fatal flaw: given his own combat strength, the other players could simply swarm him and easily shut off the recorder...
And that was where the [Ink Soul Long Scroll] would come in.
Qi Si had never been the kind of narrow-minded person so obsessed with his own uniqueness that he would stop at nothing to hunt down and eliminate another version of himself.
Quite the contrary, when competing against "others," he was more than happy to form a temporary alliance with himself. Once all the boring, irrelevant people were eliminated, then he could slowly enjoy a game against himself.
He would even welcome the existence of countless versions of himself in the world. For one, playing against himself was far more interesting than playing against others. For another, it would allow survival of the fittest to determine the most superior version of him, increasing the probability that "Qi Si" as an entity would be the ultimate winner.
He suddenly felt a flicker of curiosity about just how far that "Foolish Trickster," Zhou Ke, had managed to go.
...
Tension in the inn was stretched to a breaking point. Weapons were drawn, and a dozen players lunged at Zhou Ke, the cold glint of their blades weaving a deadly web in the air.
In a flash, a long landscape scroll materialized in Zhou Ke's hand. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it soaring upward. In seconds, it unfurled to cover the entire hall, blanketing the ceiling like a pall of gray haze.
The flowing ink-wash landscape floated overhead, its edges blurring into mist, rendering the surrounding walls and furniture with the quality of an ink painting. Zhou Ke's figure became nearly transparent, and all attacks passed through his silhouette as if through empty space, dissipating completely.
"Look at the thighbone trumpet, glistening with blood; the so-called mandala, so gaudy and bright; the so-called dancing beads are beads of bone; the so-called messenger's body, bare and shining..."
The eerie chant droned on, low and deep, like the accompaniment to an ancient shaman's ritual dance. It swirled through the inn's main hall in overlapping layers, drifting outward like a tide.
More and more pilgrims gathered at the inn's entrance, their rhythmic prostrations creating a series of thuds—*thump, thump*—that seemed to make the very earth resonate with them.
The front row of pilgrims had already crossed the threshold, pressing forward toward the hall in a dense crowd. The players could see bone beneath their robes and smell the stench of decay clinging to them. Zhou Ke's figure, along with the recorder playing the chant, had vanished completely. Only the scroll overhead now contained a new ink-drawn silhouette, the faint outline of a young man in a white shirt.
To subdue him, they would likely have to pursue him into the scroll itself. But that was Zhou Ke's home ground; to enter would be like a lamb walking into a tiger's den.
A young man in a black suit reversed his grip on a longsword and pressed it to Dong Xiwen's neck. Tilting his head back slightly, he called out in a cold voice, "Zhou Ke, turn off the recorder now, or I'll kill your companion."
Dong Xiwen had anticipated this move the moment Zhou Ke made his challenge against Lin Jue and the others, so he had immediately started moving toward the edge of the fray. He hadn't been fast enough.
He wanted to cry but had no tears left, wanting only to scream at the young man: "Taking me hostage is useless! I'm just disposable livestock to Qi Si! We're both in the same miserable boat! Does he look like he gives a damn whether I live or die?"
Zhang Yiyu reacted even more slowly than Dong Xiwen. Only when a player named Alexei lunged at her with a dagger did she curl her fingers into claws and block the attack.
The ghostly energy within her surged, coursing through her veins. Purple-black vascular patterns surfaced on her face, and the color of her dark irises bled outward, staining the whites of her eyes an eerie, bruised black.
Alexei took half a step back but recovered quickly. Nimbly dodging Zhang Yiyu's claws, he tightened his grip on the dagger and thrust it toward the girl's heart.
Dong Xiwen watched helplessly as the two fought, a wave of despair washing over him. He couldn't help but complain to Dong Ziwen in his mind: "Hey bro, was our boss this much of a justice warrior when he was young? By the way, does helping the Ark Guild count as betraying the Balance Church?"
Dong Ziwen: "..."
Yes, this Alexei, the [Calamity High Priest], was none other than "Yuan," one of the leaders of the Balance Church—only a younger version who had lost twenty-two years of memories. Who could have imagined that this hot-blooded youth would one day become a scheming politician and a subversive element secretly working against the Federation?
Outside the inn, fierce gusts of wind rattled the wind chimes and bone fragments hanging from the eaves, their clattering creating a restless cacophony. Icy shards blew in through the cracks in the door and walls, sending waves of cold that seeped into everyone's bones.
"Everyone," Zhou Ke's voice drifted down from above, muffled and distorted as if passing through a thick medium. "I think now, perhaps, we can talk things over calmly. I'm not some world-weary nihilist bent on global destruction, nor am I a madman who'd enjoy seeing everyone die together. At least, it was never my intention for us all to perish—and I hope you won't push things in that unfortunate direction."
Xiao Fengchao let out a sharp "Ha!" a corner of his mouth twitching. "After all this, you really think we can still trust you? You're shameless, deranged, a monster in human skin! The ghouls are already gathering at the door. I suppose our next step is to die together on the same day, same month, same year..."
"Enough," Lin Jue said, gesturing for the others to be quiet. A bitter smile touched his lips. "It seems we have no other choice now but to negotiate peacefully. Zhou Ke, I want to know what your purpose is in doing all this."
"My purpose... As I said before, it's a way for all of you to clear this instance directly." Zhou Ke's voice was unhurried, as if he were discussing a trivial matter. "Lin Jue, if I remember correctly, your Identity Card is the [Dark Judge], isn't it?"
Lin Jue nodded. "That's right."
He seemed to understand something then, a flicker of resignation in his eyes. "The effect of this card is to declare a player guilty and cause the instance to continuously generate bounty missions targeting that player."
Zhou Ke smiled. "It seems you know what I'm going to say. The main quest for this instance hasn't appeared yet, and it's possible there isn't one at all. The former is trouble enough; the latter would be far worse, basically meaning this is an unbeatable, fatal instance.
"Crises keep emerging. Many of us have already been affected by the instance's mechanics, showing signs of age regression. We might have a slim chance now, but the longer we stay here, the more our minds and memories will decay to an irreversible point. Even if we cleared the instance then, we'd be nothing but empty shells. Pitiful, isn't it?
"We don't have any survival experts, and our physical fitness certainly can't compare to professional athletes. Crossing the snow mountain on our own is unrealistic. The ideal solution is to create a main quest as soon as possible, and then complete it."
Zhou Ke paused, then his tone shifted. "Of course, we don't have to do this. The result will simply be failure, and we'll be trapped in this instance forever. Rather than struggle in vain in this godforsaken place for another seven days only to die a miserable, painful death, it would be better to die today. At least it would be quick."
Having personally experienced the *Colosseum* instance and witnessed the chain of mechanics triggered by the [Dark Judge]'s effect, Dong Xiwen understood Zhou Ke's plan in an instant.
After the [Dark Judge] declares someone guilty, the instance generates a main quest to kill that person. Completing it means clearing the instance.
An incredibly complex instance would be instantly transformed into a trolley problem: kill one to save everyone. And the blame would fall solely on Qi Si, who proposed the idea, and Lin Jue, who named the guilty party.
For every player except the sacrificed scapegoat, this plan had everything to gain and nothing to lose. The only problem was that the Ark Guild, led by Lin Jue, prided themselves on their righteousness and would never stoop to sacrificing an innocent person.
But in the face of survival, reputation and morality are meaningless.
Zhou Ke smiled, his tone coaxing. "President Lin, what are your thoughts? Sacrifice one person so the rest may be saved, or everyone dies together? From either a utilitarian or a pragmatic perspective, the choice shouldn't be difficult, should it?
"I'm sure you aren't the kind of egoist who cherishes his reputation so much—clinging to it like a bird to its feathers—that you'd let everyone die with you just to maintain your selfless persona."
It was blatant moral blackmail, but it was extraordinarily effective. All eyes turned to Lin Jue. Some hoped he would activate the effect and end this game quickly; some, being mere acquaintances with him, worried they would be chosen as the sacrifice; and still others felt a pang of pity, hesitating, wondering if they should volunteer themselves.
"Fine," Lin Jue said calmly, a black and gold Identity Card materializing in his hand. The next second, he clenched his fist, and the card crumbled into dust.
Black specks of dust rose, mingling with the ink-wash scroll and forming tendrils of gray smoke across the ceiling. A figure appeared, a judge clad in black with golden eyes, standing between heaven and earth. The black-covered book in its hands flipped rapidly, releasing a torrent of golden characters into the air.
The characters swirled around Lin Jue like the bars of a cage. For an instant, the world seemed to fall silent and still. The gaze of every living thing converged on this spot, waiting for the young man's judgment as if awaiting a king's decree.
"I choose... to judge myself." Lin Jue met the judge's gaze, speaking slowly and deliberately, each word sharp and clear. "I am guilty. 'Lin Jue' is guilty."
The players saw astonishment mirrored in each other's eyes. The golden characters filling the air rippled like water disturbed by a stone, as if they, too, were shaken by his words.
A sigh seemed to drift down from the heavens. A black cross slowly descended, hovering as a spectral image above Lin Jue's head—a mark of his "sin."
At the same time, two lines of silver-white text appeared on everyone's system interface, accompanied by a cold, mechanical system announcement.
[Main Quest Updated]
[Main Quest (Optional): Kill the sinner, Lin Jue.]