The First Descent

Just then, a gunshot rang out from downstairs. Immediately followed by another shot.

Iver a slight tightening in his heart. But his pace downstairs didn't quicken; instead, it slowed down considerably.

He leaned silently against the wall and tiptoed downstairs. At the same time, he pulled out the pistol from under his coat, lowered it slightly, and hid it in the shadow of his slightly oversized sleeve.

Unlike when Iver arrived, oil lamps were already lit at the entrance.

He saw from afar a young man with brown hair, deep-set and handsome features, standing at the front desk holding a gun. The smoke from the gun had not yet completely dissipated.

The thin young man who had been leaning on the front desk was now twisted and lying backward on the shelf, lifeless. He had been shot in the forehead and chest, blood slowly seeping out.

He seemed to notice something, turned his head slightly, and saw Iver standing quietly by the wall.

The tall, strong, dark-haired man stood ramrod straight, like a sculpture. The hall lights cast shadows on him, obscuring half of his body.

Upon seeing this, the young man's pupils contracted slightly.

He threw the gun he was holding directly onto the counter and spread his hands in a gesture of goodwill.

"Calm down... Mr. Agni. Don't attack me, I've already laid down my weapon."

The young man said in a deep voice, "We're on the same side."

"You know me?"

Agni spoke slowly as she walked down the stairs step by step.

His slow, deliberate steps creaked on the worn wooden floor, creating a sense of unease. This, in turn, exerted immense psychological pressure on others.

Just then, a flash of lightning struck outside, illuminating Agni's face through the window for a fleeting moment. This was followed by a deafening rumble of thunder.

"I am Jacob Alexander, a reporter for the 《Cow and Harbor》 newspaper..."

Seeing that Agni's slow and heavy steps showed no sign of stopping, he subconsciously took a half step back and revealed more precise information. "I mean, I know you on the upper level."

"I know you are different now than you were on the previous level, so I guess we're on the same side. I think you are... a living silver?"

"Continue."

Agni said briefly.

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief.

"Since you put it that way, I think we are indeed on the same side, right?"

He quickly continued, "It's like this... You might not know, but the flow of time, or the point at which you enter, is different in each layer. At least it's asymmetrical. Because in another history, I've already communicated with 'you,' and I've conducted some experiments and established some rules—"

"Have you seen the couple arguing in Room 204? That woman is Jacaranda, but she isn't yet. She came down from a higher floor to my floor, and we've already exchanged information. I think she'll be coming down to this floor soon... She can corroborate what I'm saying."

"My reason for killing this receptionist is simple. Because I thought he was Merlin —or rather, I thought I couldn't let him be Merlin."

"According to my investigation, the people in this hotel are you and your daughter Daya in Room 202, the Old Inspector in Room 203, the couple in room 204, the Dancer in Room 205, and me in Room 206... exactly seven people. Room 201 is empty, and counting the receptionist, there is no one else—there is no one in the kitchen, no one in the basement, I have already searched there."

The reporter raised his hands and said earnestly in a very fast voice, "If that's the case, then this extra receptionist is an unstable factor."

Merlin said he could "enter the body of any character in any layer of the dream at any time." But he didn't say "it will definitely be one of the seven of us," so we can't rule out the foreground.

"Considering that Merlin cannot enter a body that we have already controlled, if someone were to descend, he would be pushed out, and we could immediately tell if he was Merlin. From this perspective, we need to exclude everyone other than the seven of us as much as possible. Because he is an outsider, someone who will not descend upon the 'true self' and therefore cannot be verified... Do you understand what I'm saying?"

As Agni continued to slowly walk towards him, the reporter broke out in a sweat.

He sighed helplessly and lowered his hand, "Fine, if you want to, just kill me. It seems I can't reason with you... This is also a kind of information."

Agni pressed a pistol against his forehead. Feeling the cold muzzle approaching, the reporter closed his eyes.

"--Bang."

Iver mimicked the sound of gunfire with his mouth.

He looked at the "reporter" who had closed his eyes and then opened them in astonishment with a half-smile, "My dear detective, you seem to have very little confidence in my brain."

"...Who are you?"

"I am Fox."

Iver spoke with a smile, seemingly unconcerned about revealing his identity.

"So it was you, kid—"

The reporter said through gritted teeth, "You just like to scare me for no reason, don't you?"

"No one has come down yet."

Iver didn't answer the reporter's question, "They seem quite calm. Or... are they hard of hearing and can't hear the gunshots?"

"Maybe he's scared, so he's hiding in the house."

The reporter calmed down and continued his analysis, "Fox... no, to prevent your identity from being revealed, I'll call you Agni for now."

"Listen carefully, Agni. To make a long story short—since each of us appears in a different dream, it means that there is only one original inhabitant in each layer of the dream. And the appearance of another person means that this is at least not the Top Layer. Similarly, the more people appear, the closer we are to the Bottom Layer."

"Good."

Iver nodded. "But there's another problem. As you said—on the one hand, the time flow rate is different at each level, or rather, the starting point is different. This will lead to inconsistent progress."

"Furthermore, what if some of us appear at the higher levels but lack the courage to come down... like Lu Lu? Could that lead us to believe that we haven't reached the bottom yet, when in reality it's just that some people haven't arrived yet?"

"Then we'll have to use the process of elimination."

The reporter thought for a moment and said seriously, "Because I considered that if I didn't quickly explain the principle to others... someone might kill everyone on this floor. So I decided to descend quickly... In fact, I've already descended two floors."

"On my first floor, I didn't see anyone. To avoid meeting anyone else, I immediately committed suicide and went down to the next floor. On the previous floor, I saw Jacaranda. At that time, I suspected that the person at the front desk was Merlin... because he was deliberately stalling for time and making excuses to make me wait a little longer."

Young Jacob squinted. "I wanted to conduct an experiment. So after I made arrangements with Jacaranda, I first killed the receptionist and then committed suicide to get to your floor."

"You're verifying whether the two front-ends are the same, right?"

Iver replied, "If the two receptionists are different, then it means that one of them is Merlin."

"That's right. And if we go down one more floor, we can see which one is the proper reception desk."

"But you've overlooked another possibility—the person at the front desk could also be one of us."

Iver said slowly, "And with your verification, Merlin may be able to disguise himself as the receptionist even more perfectly."

"—So, I chose to kill the receptionist."

The reporter replied, "In any case, we can reduce variables. Not only that, I will also kill off the front desk staff at every level. If he is a promoted candidate, then let him tell me himself."

"... I see. I understand what you're thinking."

Iver squinted.

If the person in front is not an Ascended One, killing the person in front can increase Merlin's possession cost; if the person in front is an Ascended One, then if he is killed, he will fall to the next level with his memories.

"Following this line of thinking, we can kill anyone in the same way. Since we were born on floors 1-7 and our target is floor 0, it means that even if I'm on floor 1, we can at least die again."

Iver pondered, "As long as one has memories after death, it can prove that one is real, right?"

"But we need to exclude one variable here."

The reporter then calmly stated, "If someone claims to have committed suicide and descended to this level, but no one on the level above him can verify his identity—then there is a possibility that he is Merlin, who is faking his descent and actually impersonating the descenter."

"I considered this issue, so I established a secret order when I communicated with the Jacaranda. This confirms that we did indeed communicate with each other, and that we both came down from the upper level."

"But even so, there will be another problem..."

"—Time difference."

Iver continued, "Your waiting for the Jacaranda to come down is also a delay. And according to our previous reasoning, the longer the delay, the more unstable the lower levels become."

The reporter snapped his fingers and smiled contentedly, "Exactly."

So what are your plans?

"Iver asked."

"—It's very simple."

The journalist, who shared the same name as Iver's grandfather, replied, "We'll die together, we'll live together."

As he spoke, he picked up the revolver from the table and pointed it at Iver's forehead.

"If you're not Merlin, you're the real Fox."

The reporter calmly stated, "We'll go straight to the next level—once the Jacaranda comes down and sees us like this, she'll definitely understand what happened. She'll also find someone to kill each other with, to verify each other's claims."

"Jacaranda and I can corroborate each other, you and I can corroborate each other, and she can bring one person. In this way, we have confirmed the identities of four people... We just need to eliminate Merlin from the remaining three."

"... Heh, a two-person team? Okay, then I'll do as you say. Let's go to the next floor and investigate further, partner."

Iver chuckled lightly, fearlessly raised his pistol, and pointed it at the reporter's forehead as well. Then, with his other hand, he moved the gun from the reporter's forehead to his heart.

"You shoot first."

Iver said calmly, "Even if I'm shot in the heart, I can still fire a gun instantly."

"Good."

The reporter's lips curled into a slight smile.

After a brief pause, two gunshots rang out in the hall.

Just like at the beginning of the ritual... Iver felt his consciousness slowly sinking into the dark Deep Sea.

Then, he suddenly felt a little suffocated. He awoke with a start, as if emerging from the water and creating a splash.

—He seemed to have taken a nap, then opened his eyes.

A very soft voice came from behind him: "Dad...?" "... Why aren't you dressed?"

Iver looked at the soaked clothes he had changed out of and laid them in front of him, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up.

He turned around, opened his arms, and showed off his new clothes. "I'm dressed properly, aren't I, Daya?"

Daya paused for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Oh right..."

How could you think I wasn't wearing clothes?

Iver wasn't angry; he simply asked patiently.

"...I have no idea."

Daya covered her forehead in distress. "I think I had a nightmare... I dreamt that my dad was swimming naked in the river..."

Iver walked over and gently touched her hair.

"It's okay."

He said gently, "Sleep well, goodnight."

Between his fingers, Daya's brown hair was fine and soft, giving a warm feeling to the touch.

Update complete, meow!