Carnivore (18): Murder

Yang Yundong naturally noticed the human faces on the ceiling staring straight at the group.

He furrowed his brows, took three incense sticks from the altar, and said without looking back, "We have all consumed the God Meat and are stained with sin. We must pay our respects quickly before we look for clues."

No one raised an objection; the cautionary tale of the Tattooed Woman was right before their eyes, and no one knew when a mutation might occur within themselves.

Zhu Ling also took three incense sticks, but instead of stepping forward, she waited to the side, watching Yang Yundong with unblinking eyes.

Yang Yundong seemed oblivious, kneeling before the altar on his own. He held the three thin incense sticks in his right hand and bowed three times.

The military coat, soaked through with blood, dripped onto the floor, soon leaving an irregular outline in front of the altar.

Qi Si noticed several wisps of black smoke rising from behind the spirit tablets, coalescing with the human faces on the ceiling.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but he felt those faces were smiling, as if something had happened that played right into their hands.

Yang Yundong finished his worship and rose slowly, swaying as if he might fall at any moment, yet he ultimately steadied himself using the Pu Saber tucked under his arm.

The moment he stood fully upright, a "snap" echoed through the silence; two of the incense sticks in his hand broke simultaneously for no reason and fell to the ground.

In superstition, three long and two short is a taboo; incense burning into two short and one long is an omen of death.

Zhao Feng was the first to react, shouting, "Run!"

He didn't need to remind anyone; the moment the variable occurred, Qi Si had already taken a step back and retreated from the Ancestral Hall.

Zhou Yilin also exited the hall; though the girl appeared soft and weak, her reaction was even faster than Qi Si's.

The others realized something was wrong, but it was too late. The doors of the Ancestral Hall slammed shut behind the two of them with a loud "bang," trapping the remaining four inside.

Under the pale sky, the ancient Ancestral Hall crouched like a monster. The wilderness outside was desolate and vast, with no sign of human life as far as the eye could see.

A biting wind rose from the ground, whipping at the clothes of Qi Si and Zhou Yilin. The cold poured into their collars, making a rustling sound.

Zhou Yilin began to sob again: "Are... are they going to die? I'm so scared..."

"They won't die," Qi Si said coldly. "Now that it's just the two of us, let's talk about how you took the liberty of altering my clues."

Zhou Yilin stopped crying and stammered timidly, "I'm sorry, Sister Zhu forced me to do it... I've always wanted to warn you..."

Qi Si did not look at her, instead gazing quietly at the tightly sealed doors of the Ancestral Hall. Their dark, heavy luster was solemn, yet it inexplicably reminded him of the congealed filth of blood.

He continued, "Zhou Yilin, as far as I know, Zhu Ling wants—and only wants—to eliminate Yang Yundong. Even if she needed to alter another player's clue to avoid exposure, Yin Lina, who is all alone, would undoubtedly have been a more suitable choice than me."

"You acted on your own, altered my clues to drag me into this, and broke the bystander effect by infringing on my interests. Then you gave me hints in advance to convey an intention of cooperation, leading me to become her enemy. I suspect you want to get rid of her, don't you?"

Qi Si's narration was calm, as if he had witnessed the entire process of the event.

Zhou Yilin's timid expression settled, transforming into a composure that bordered on indifference.

In a second, she dropped her crying tone and tilted her head: "So you saw through it. Well then, what is your choice?"

Inside the Ancestral Hall, Zhang Licai quickly recovered from his shock, wailing as he threw himself against the closed doors and pushed with all his might.

The door creaked under his efforts but never budged, not even a sliver, as if a force from the outside was holding it shut.

Zhao Feng kicked the door to test it and concluded, "The door is sealed tight. It won't open."

Zhu Ling maintained a precarious calm and analyzed, "We must have triggered a death point. At least one of us has to die, otherwise, there is no solution."

Yang Yundong turned his head, his deep eyes sweeping over Zhu Ling, but he ultimately said nothing.

In the depths of his mind, Qi Si's words ruminated like a tide.

'Brother Yang, survival and self-interest are the natural laws that best fit biological instincts. Under the new rules of the Eerie Game, the social norms used to maintain collective interests in reality no longer apply. It is a pity that countless tamed sheep are still deluded by this lie, voluntarily surrendering their interests and being exploited by others due to cowardice or conformity...'

'Those who follow the rules starve after paying their grain, while the opportunists hoard the granaries and act like tyrants, using arbitrarily set standards of class, stance, and ideology to tear the group apart, inciting one group to impose tyranny on another. It's ridiculous, isn't it? But that is the essence of what humans call social norms.'

The questions echoed in his memory, the malice behind them bone-chilling and profound, making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

Yang Yundong closed his eyes. The experiences of the past forty-plus years flowed through his mind like a river, fading and thinning inch by inch, only to turn into thick, ink-like congealed blood after a certain point.

He saw a great fire, saw faces full of pain, saw countless broken corpses...

'Brother Yang, it is clear that you still cannot accept this set of rules; the contradiction between truth and experience makes your heart suffer immensely. Since that is the case, why continue to make yourself suffer? Instead of using morality to hold others hostage, why not sacrifice yourself to that outdated, conservative morality? I might even respect you a little more...'

Yang Yundong thought of something, yet it seemed he could think of nothing at all. He raised his eyes, his gaze tightening.

The human faces on the ceiling turned into bursts of black smoke, circling the four trapped people. Within the gathering smoke, there seemed to be countless eyes—painful, greedy, resentful, sorrowful—layered like fish scales.

Howls of varying tones converged into the same message, sounding like a grievance:

"Meat... meat... give us meat..."

Zhao Feng bore the brunt of it, his arms scratched several times by the human faces.

He cursed, took a blade, carved a piece of flesh from his own arm, and threw it into the black smoke.

The chewing sound lasted for a while before stopping, but the howling of the faces never ceased, like insatiable beggars, pestering them for more.

Zhao Feng's expression turned ugly. At the right moment, Qi Si's words rang in his ears:

'The amount of meat on everyone is limited; the best solution is to choose a sacrificial lamb...'

'As long as we deal with the strongest ones and form an absolute numerical advantage, we can decide the life or death of anyone...'

A flash of ruthlessness crossed his eyes. Zhao Feng intentionally lightened his footsteps, step by step, silently circling behind Yang Yundong.

As long as he killed this self-righteous leader, the alliance formed between him and Qi Si would be able to vie for the position of leadership...

Zhao Feng looked left and right; Zhang Licai was still squatting in front of the door trying to think of a way, paying no attention to his side. Zhu Ling, meanwhile, looked in his direction, giving him a look of tacit understanding.

As for Yang Yundong, he had not turned back once from start to finish.

[The Rules have refreshed]

[3. The ghosts in the Ancestral Hall are always in a state of hunger. It is best to prepare sufficient meat before coming to pay respects—a total of one adult human's worth of meat. More is acceptable, but no less.]

Qi Si saw the new text refresh on the system interface, a faint smile curling the corners of his lips.

Beside him, Zhou Yilin immediately crouched down, hugged her knees, and trembled like a sieve while sobbing.

Qi Si tilted his head to look at her: "Is constantly putting on this cowardly and timid act some kind of perverse hobby of yours?"

Zhou Yilin sniffled and nodded: "Mm, it's very interesting."

"..."

A few seconds later, the door to the Ancestral Hall was pushed open from the inside. Zhao Feng, covered in blood, walked out first, followed by Zhu Ling.

Zhang Licai sat slumped beside a skeleton, looking as if he had been scared out of his wits.

Qi Si saw that apart from the head being intact—which allowed one to identify the deceased as Yang Yundong—the skeleton had been picked clean from torso to limbs, not a scrap of flesh remaining.

What had happened inside the Ancestral Hall was obvious: Yang Yundong had died at the hands of Zhao Feng and become the meat used to fill the ghosts' stomachs.

Back on the bus, as soon as the players finished their self-introductions, Qi Si had already foreseen Yang Yundong's ending.

In a zero-sum game, a character who surpassed others in prestige and strength but lacked an absolute advantage was destined to be jointly eliminated.

The only thing to consider was when and where to let him die to maximize the benefits.

All Qi Si had done was use his words to push him into the crosshairs, inciting Zhao Feng's resentment and making Zhu Ling wary.

In this way, as soon as an opportunity arose, someone would strike a lethal blow, while the others would tacitly agree to stand by and watch the murder.

"Now you know, good people don't live long." Qi Si lowered his eyes to gaze at the skeleton on the ground and sighed.

There had been room for maneuver; if Yang Yundong had agreed to cooperate with him, he could have controlled Zhou Yilin and Zhang Licai in advance and sacrificed their lives at this moment instead.

It was a pity that Yang Yundong chose the fourth path, creating a stalemate between the two pairs and making Zhang Licai the deciding factor.

"To give the innocent a chance to survive, he was even willing to die himself... Interesting."

Qi Si tapped his chin with his finger. Looking at Yang Yundong's corpse, he didn't feel much excitement; instead, he felt a strong urge to cut open this man's brain to see how it was constructed.

Fortunately, he always left room for maneuver when laying out his plans, and the current unexpected situation did not significantly hinder his overall scheme.

The black-haired youth raised a hand to cover the strange smile on his face and, in a voice only he could hear, spoke to the existence in the void: "Everyone has to die. I never said my stance was among the players, did I?"

The sun had risen to the treetops, slanting through the cracks in the Ancestral Hall's door and casting pale light and shadows onto the ground. A few beams of light fell upon the skeleton; they held no warmth, cold as ice.

As if knowing he was already dead, Yang Yundong stopped struggling in vain and instead braced his body, laboriously trying to flip over.

Qi Si watched with interest for a while, finding that he inexplicably understood the man's thoughts.

He lowered his hand and walked over, forming his lips into a shape to silently ask the dying corpse if it wanted to see the sun one last time. He soon read an affirmative meaning in the eyes of the severed head.

So, he bent down, disregarding the filthy bloodstains, and gently flipped the broken corpse over.

Yang Yundong now lay on his back, eyes wide as he stared at the sky. He, too, made no sound and left no final words, just like the white youth named "Allen" who had died at the Village Chief's House.

Qi Si squatted to the side, quietly watching Yang Yundong's pulse fade until he became a true corpse.

After a long silence, Zhu Ling wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and said: "The death point has passed. Let's go into the Ancestral Hall to pay our respects first, then search for any important clues... Let's not waste Brother Yang's sacrifice."

No one raised an objection.

The players returned to the Ancestral Hall in silence, taking incense from the altar one by one to kneel and bow, as pious as believers.

Friends who haven't joined the group yet might want to join; I have a feeling the book is almost over...