Carnivore (Seventeen) Ancestral Hall

The players emerged from their rooms one by one. Although most had dark circles under their eyes and looked unwell, there were no new wounds on their bodies.

The situation was clear: apart from Qi Si and Yang Yundong, who had stayed in separate rooms, everyone else had paired up just like the first night.

Upon seeing Yang Yundong, whose left arm was severed and whose side was soaked in blood, Zhou Yilin began to wipe the corners of her eyes again. She couldn't string a complete sentence together, looking every bit like a frightened bird.

Yang Yundong raised his right hand to press against the wound on his left arm, scanned the four players who had come out later, and asked, "Did any of you encounter any trouble last night?"

The players looked at each other in silence.

"No, we all ate the God Meat, what kind of trouble could there be?"

"I slept soundly from last night until now."

Everyone wore an expression of appropriate confusion, with not a trace of deception to be seen.

Yang Yundong sighed and said, "Last night, both Chang Xu and I encountered ghosts. If I hadn't accumulated a few life-saving items, I fear I wouldn't have survived until today."

He paused, then continued, "Let everyone disclose the contents of their Travel Guide. I suspect the clues we each obtained are different."

Perhaps it was the gruesome nature of Yang Yundong's wound, or perhaps it was the unquestionable tone of his voice, but no one raised an objection this time. They all returned to their rooms to retrieve their Travel Guides.

Qi Si stood beside Yang Yundong, collecting the Travel Guides one by one.

On the title page of the newly collected Travel Guides, four lines of verse were written in a bold, sweeping hand:

[Do not occupy a room alone, do not stay in the shrine by yourself]

[Do not mourn the newly dead, why weep for sins erased]

"One person" versus "two people"—a difference of a single character, yet it led to entirely different outcomes.

If Qi Si hadn't used the Tape Recorder to break the deadlock in time, and had the Pocket Watch of Fate as a backup, the player faction would likely have suffered more casualties.

Zhang Licai slapped his palm and cursed, "That horizontal stroke above the 'two' was probably added later. Which bastard is so wicked?"

Zhao Feng looked at Yang Yundong, frowning as he asked, "Are you suspecting that someone among us tampered with it?"

The answer was quite clear, but without a signal from Qi Si, he had no kindness to spare for supporting Yang Yundong; and Qi Si did not want to spell things out too early.

Yang Yundong's gaze swept over Zhou Yilin and Zhu Ling, lingering on Zhu Ling for a moment longer.

Zhu Ling noticed this and said with a bitter smile, "It's very likely a fake clue left by the Eerie Game to sow discord. I saw it on the forum a few days ago, saying that some instances deliberately provide misleading information..."

Zhang Licai, whether truly foolish or just pretending, muttered, "That can't be right. If even black-and-white clues can be fake, can this game even be played?"

In the end, he did not question Zhu Ling, whose behavior was clearly suspicious.

Yang Yundong was visibly not long for this world. To offend another "thigh" with obvious strength for the sake of a dying man was not worth the cost.

At this moment, Yang Yundong was already a lone wolf.

"Breakfast is ready, come and eat!" The discussion was interrupted by Granny Su's shout.

It was time for breakfast.

The players generally had no appetite, and after eating a few bites of steamed buns, they left the table one after another.

Watching the others leave, Qi Si lost the desire to continue eating and stood up to walk toward the door.

Yang Yundong stood alone by the door, his shadow, missing one arm, stretched thin and precarious under the morning sun.

Qi Si approached him with a leisurely gait and said with a smile, "Brother Yang, let's cooperate."

Although he could not understand why anyone would be willing to be a good person who does thankless work, in the absence of a conflict of interest, he did not dislike a character like Yang Yundong.

On the contrary, he was very happy to create complications outside of his unchanging plans, just to observe the behavioral choices and endings of these righteous people, so as to add bricks and mortar to his future disguises and layouts.

At this moment, facing Yang Yundong's hawk-like, scrutinizing gaze, he did not retreat: "You must have seen it too. There are three days left, and only six of us remain. Some people are likely already plotting to kill other players to trigger the minimum death count mechanism."

"As the de facto leader, you will inevitably bear the brunt of it. Opportunists, in order to create the chaos they desire, will certainly find a way to deal with you first for holding the situation together. Of course, there is also me, whose background they cannot fathom."

"This time, you and I escaped by luck; next time, we probably won't be so fortunate."

Using the same predicament to resonate and create a context of being isolated and helpless; a portion of recognized facts, combined with appropriate exaggeration, made it easy to convince others.

Yang Yundong was silent for two seconds, then retorted, "I cooperate with you, and then what? Exclude the other players first, and then you and Zhao Feng restrain me?"

Qi Si showed no embarrassment at being exposed; instead, he beamed: "As expected of Brother Yang, it seems you aren't entirely ignorant of conspiracies."

"But so what? Cooperate with me to end the instance early, and at least four people can survive. Survival is always the priority; does the method really matter that much?"

Yang Yundong said in a deep voice, "I cannot see through you, but I can feel that you have no reverence for public order and good customs, nor do you have the bottom line or self-awareness of a human being. Someone like you surviving is extremely dangerous to other players."

Qi Si did not refute him, only looking at him with a half-smile: "Brother Yang, let me ask you a question. If there were a terminally ill young man in Eagle County across the ocean who needed your full set of organs to be saved, would you be willing?"

Yang Yundong suddenly raised his eyes, staring into Qi Si's, seemingly judging the purpose of his words.

The smile remained on Qi Si's face: "If your answer is no, then what standing do you have to demand that I abandon survival for the sake of a so-called bottom line? If your answer is yes, why don't you die for me right now?"

"Or are you just a boring utilitarian who uses location, age, education, and health to measure the value of every person before deciding whether to sacrifice them? Or perhaps you are the same as me, both accustomed to deciding whether to save or kill based on personal preference?"

Before undergoing targeted cognitive training, few people could manage to separate a tangled mess of issues one by one and analyze specific problems individually.

Logical traps like the fallacy of presumption, ad hominem, and false dilemmas worked repeatedly on most people.

As the questions continued, Yang Yundong's expression grew increasingly ugly; he was clearly being led into the paradox Qi Si had meticulously woven.

Qi Si counted on his fingers, speaking in the tone of someone settling accounts: "Of course, I believe you have already prejudicially placed me in an adversarial position, and you are likely unwilling to believe the facts I've stated. In that case, I can stick to the matter at hand and offer you a few viable options."

"First, you uphold the principle of ridding the people of harm and kill me, then die due to the procedural justice of a group verdict. Zhao Feng, as my ally, would inevitably be targeted for elimination next."

"Second, you go and trade lives with Zhu Ling. The result would be much the same; I guarantee I would root out her entire alliance. As for the remaining three, if luck is on their side, they all survive; if not, I survive."

"Third, you take away the most innocent one, Zhang Licai. That leaves exactly four people, two alliances, reaching a Nash equilibrium where we all survive."

Qi Si tilted his head, stating his conclusion—which could not be distinguished as truth or lie—with the attitude of a serious analyst: "According to the principle of utilitarianism, the third option is the most economically efficient—wouldn't you agree?"

Yang Yundong said coldly, "Players of the 'slaughter style' who benefit themselves at the expense of others deserve no pity."

"Slaughter style" was a generalized concept; such players possessed certain antisocial tendencies and upheld an absolute zero-sum mindset, preferring to kill other players to gain more benefits rather than seeking win-win cooperation.

Qi Si knew well that such labels were merely human-made definitions; kill one person and you are a criminal, kill ten million and you are a god.

He smiled, his eyes curving into crescents: "But life is precious, isn't it? You are not a god, so what right do you have to judge the right or wrong, the good or evil, of a choice in behavior?"

Yang Yundong said, "Those who kill should pay with their lives, and those who harm others should also meet their retribution."

Qi Si acted as if he hadn't heard, drawing out his tone and asking word by word: "So, what is your choice?"

Before long, the players gathered outside the residence.

A crisis of trust had already emerged, but everyone tacitly remained silent about it.

Still led by Yang Yundong, the six players followed the direction indicated on the map toward the Ancestral Hall.

Shallow footprints were etched into the village's dirt paths, dotted with specks of blood that looked like lacquer.

The sun had not yet fully risen above the rooftops, and under the pale, vast sky, dust swirled along the dirt road.

The residential houses on both sides were dilapidated, and the further they went, the more decayed and aged the structures became. Weeds submerged the crumbling mud walls, and fragments of brick and tile were scattered in the dirt.

The players bypassed the shade of a locust tree and stopped in front of a building.

They had reached the Ancestral Hall.

The Ancestral Hall of Su Village was built tall and beautiful, with two bright red lanterns hanging under the eaves; their vivid colors were completely out of place in the ruined village.

The door pillars and window lattices were exquisitely carved, and even the paint was clearly brand new, yet from a distance, it gave off a cold and sinister feeling.

Zhu Ling frowned and said, "The feng shui of this Ancestral Hall is very strange. Planting a locust tree in front of the door invites evil spirits; the door facing east-west keeps the vengeful spirits from dispersing. It looks like it's suppressing something."

Zhang Licai shivered at her words: "Big sister, don't scare me. I don't know anything about feng shui..."

While the two were chatting, Qi Si had already walked to Yang Yundong's side and used a piece of wire to pick the lock on the door ring.

He raised his hand to pull the vermilion gate of the Ancestral Hall, expecting it to take some effort, but to his surprise, the moment he tugged on the ring, the door swung open on its own.

It was as if it had been blown open by the wind.

Qi Si curled the corners of his mouth into a smile and made a joke that wasn't very funny: "I didn't expect them to be so hospitable, rushing to invite us inside."

Yang Yundong's complexion was an earthy, ashen gray from excessive blood loss, and his figure swayed slightly, though he did not show any overly obvious signs of fatigue.

He glanced at Qi Si indifferently, turned his head to look straight ahead, and stepped over the threshold.

Qi Si pursed his lips and followed closely behind.

The interior of the Ancestral Hall gave one a strong sense of discomfort, as if countless pairs of eyes were watching the visitors from every angle, unashamedly, making one's entire body feel uneasy.

Behind the altar in the Ancestral Hall, densely packed spirit tablets were enshrined, stacked row upon row; a rough glance suggested there were dozens or even hundreds of them.

There was no statue of a god, nor any sign related to divinity; the players looked at each other, all seeing confusion in the others' eyes.

Qi Si thought of the clue he had obtained last night and basically had a judgment.

He saw a wooden bucket placed in front of the altar—the very same one Granny Su had been carrying yesterday.

Only a few scraps of meat remained in the bucket, and the rim was covered in messy tooth marks that looked like human bites.

The size and angle of the tooth marks varied; one could almost imagine a group of hungry things—whether human or ghost, it was unknown—lunging at it, tearing at the meat in the bucket like wild beasts from every angle, regardless of anything else, even accidentally biting into the wood.

"Plop."

Something dripped onto the floor, congealing into a sticky puddle.

Zhang Licai, following closely behind Qi Si, looked up at the sound. Upon seeing what was above his head, he gasped, a wheezing sound escaping his throat.

Dozens of human faces of varying sizes were neatly arranged on the ceiling. Their wrinkled skin looked as if it would peel off like tree bark at the slightest touch, yet every corner of their mouths hung in a joyful smile, appearing incredibly eerie in this setting.

Qi Si glanced up, then shifted his gaze, letting his eyes linger among the fully packed spirit tablets.

These tablets all began with the character "Su." Their years of birth varied, but their years of death were identical—without exception, they were all from the year the villagers first began to mutate.

The records in the village history corresponded one-to-one with the objects before him. Qi Si had a sudden realization; he stepped back a few paces to the side of the door and flashed an innocent, harmless smile at Zhou Yilin, who was also standing by the entrance.

Zhou Yilin kept her eyes lowered, carefully shifting to the side to make room for him to move more easily.

Regarding certain matters, the two of them had a tacit understanding.

The surgery is done, it was benign, but I still have to be on an IV drip... I'm currently typing this one-handed, feeling quite miserable.