Flying Colors

After taking a few steps, Zheng Wuyou, bruised and battered, looked down at the new shadow on her elbow in pain.

If only this X-ray vision could be added to games!

She could only grope her way forward like a blind person trying to understand an elephant.

Countdown: 00:13:21

The countdown on her palm continued to tick away.

But why did it still affect her three-dimensional senses even after becoming two-dimensional!

It still hurt!

What kind of broken setting is this!

"...It seems I've found something that doesn't quite fit this world."

Ben Yu mumbled to himself, a hint of confusion and curiosity in his tone.

Having had a smooth start since entering, Ben Yu had only taken a short minute to successfully search through four top cabinets with only black knobs.

Finally, under a window that showed no azure sky, he found a box with the words "oil painting brush" written on it.

Besides the title on the ceiling.

This was the only thing with writing in this world.

This discovery struck him as both strange and logical.

They were in a black and white world that had been drawn, yet here was a box of colored paints.

This contradictory feeling made Ben Yu fall into thought. Could this world be more than just a painting?

Just then, he suddenly felt all eyes on him.

These gazes came from all directions, including the wavy-haired woman who hadn't moved.

Ben Yu's heart tightened, and he felt a bit lost. He suddenly noticed three large black question marks floating above his head.

These question marks seemed to mock his ignorance and confusion, making him feel incredibly awkward.

What was going on?

Just because he had a small doubt, these huge question marks appeared above his head.

Wasn't this embarrassing enough?

Zheng Wuyou, having made a discovery, looked at the question marks gradually appearing above Ben Yu's head with surprise and secretly rejoiced, "You found it!"

"Hey, what's so difficult about this? It's like playing a game with a child."

Seeing this, the curly-haired woman nimbly got off the warm bed, glanced dismissively at Yuan Ling, and with a light step and a proud expression, walked towards Ben Yu, who held the oil painting brush.

As everyone's attention was focused on the brush in Ben Yu's hand, no one noticed the black lines of the shadow behind them gradually disappearing.

As if... the owner was unhappy with this painting, And picked up an eraser.

What does a box of oil paints have to do with the sweet honey of dreams?

Seeing that the countdown on her hand hadn't ended, Yuan Ling knew it was best not to celebrate too early. She immediately nudged Zheng Wuyou with her elbow, signaling her to look at her palm.

She didn't have time to deal with that woman who only knew how to stir up trouble.

While waiting for Zheng Wuyou to think, she continued to look around the environment, trying to discover any other changes.

"Wuyou, do you see the blackness in the corner fading a bit?"

Unsure if it was her imagination, Yuan Ling worried that her eyes were playing tricks on her from being in the black and white environment for too long, so she rubbed her eyes.

But when she opened them again, the darkness was clearly different from before she closed them.

More white began to spread slowly from that corner, like growing vines.

Zheng Wuyou turned her head, watching Yuan Ling's arms sweep across her face, and then looked at the corner she mentioned.

This was not Yuan Ling's imagination.

The entire room was disappearing!

If a corner of a painting suddenly faded until only white remained on the canvas, what would that mean?

Obviously, It meant everyone would disappear here...

Along with this room.

"What does a box of oil paints have to do with the sweet honey of dreams!"

Zheng Wuyou muttered to herself, frowning, as she pulled Yuan Ling towards Ben Yu, trying to stay away from the crumbling corner.

The last time she did this kind of open-ended puzzle was when she went to play a script murder game with Yuan Ling and the others.

"Wait, Wuyou, I get it. If this painting was drawn by a child, then the superficial meaning lies in the oil paints. He needs colored paints to sketch more colors. If there's a deeper meaning, it would be in something that needs color to be adorned into the sweet honey of dreams."

Zheng Wuyou hadn't expected to overlook the most basic logic, which Yuan Ling had pointed out in just a few sentences.

Since there was an out-of-place oil painting brush, she decided to start with it.

Ultimately, it was because there were people she cared about that she had panicked.

"I get it."

Zheng Wuyou's eyes lit up. She let go of Yuan Ling's hand, which she had been holding, and walked straight towards Ben Yu.

Seeing the two of them approach, Ben Yu shoved aside the curly-haired woman and the plaid shirt beside him with great force, then handed the oil painting brush in his hand to Zheng Wuyou.

"Ben Yu! The colors of this oil painting brush, the most basic ones, are used for what part of a painting. Don't go for complicated designs; just the simplest color combinations!"

Zheng Wuyou glanced back worriedly at the black corner that had completely vanished, leaving only a blinding white. She urged Ben Yu to hurry.

Although Ben Yu was confused as to why he was suddenly being asked to paint, he complied.

Ben Yu glanced at the color palette in the box, looked around, picked up the first oil painting brush, and quickly and evenly smeared it onto the colorless window.

The sky?

The sky outside the window? Was it the sweet nectar of dreams?

Or was it the protagonist's longing?

Zheng Wuyou didn't care anymore. She mobilized everyone to pick up brushes and paint whatever they could.

The curly-haired woman watched these people with disinterest. It was just kids playing house, even painting.

"Tch, I don't believe a blue sky and white clouds will actually appear just because you finish painting," the woman said, leaning against a nearby wall, mockingly watching two elderly people hunched over.

She hadn't expected these two old people to be so engrossed in the game.

The youth with the lip piercing, knowing he wasn't good at painting, heard the woman's remark and looked as if he didn't want to be around stupid people.

He shot her a fierce glare, walked past the two of them, and chose to stand behind the busy figures, observing the situation in the room.

"Should we go help too?"

The man in the plaid shirt, somewhat intimidated by the youth with the lip piercing, looked at the beautiful woman with her hands behind her back and hesitantly asked.

After all, everyone else was doing it, so maybe there was some sense to it?

"Help with what? Are you a child too? Right now, we should be figuring out how to get them to let us out. This is all just some charade," the curly-haired woman said haughtily. She walked over to the white stool Zheng Wuyou had been sitting on and, with a surge of anger she couldn't vent, plopped down onto the stool.

The crowd, racing against time and diligently filling in the colors on the window, only heard a mixed scream of male and female voices.

Then, a sharp cry for help abruptly stopped behind them.

Everyone was startled and turned to look in the direction of the sound.

They saw a trace of bright red spreading from the white stool, whose outline was no longer discernible.

Like a blooming rose, it burst forth in this world of only black and white.

A brilliant red bloomed amidst the black and white...

Exceedingly beautiful