Carnivore (21): The Situation is Settled

"Yilin, we must join forces to kill Chang Xu." In the room, Zhu Ling looked into Zhou Yilin's eyes and said earnestly.

Because of the way Qi Si had previously deflected blame, she did not yet know that Zhou Yilin had already allied with him.

After all, if the two had formed an alliance, Qi Si could have simply used his influence to pressure others; there would have been no need to lie to clear his name.

In her view, the sequence of events was clear enough: Qi Si had first allied with Zhao Feng, then killed him to frame him, and had even gone to win over Zhang Licai without batting an eye...

He was simply... a moody, unscrupulous madman!

At the mere thought of the young man in the white shirt, Zhu Ling felt a lingering fear. Previously, she had focused almost all her attention on Yang Yundong, nearly neglecting other opponents and leading to a grave mistake...

"Chang Xu is very likely a Slaughter-type player, wanting to kill us all..."

Halfway through her sentence, the remaining words were swallowed in her throat. Zhu Ling found that her throat felt as if it had been gripped, and she could not utter a single sound.

She struggled in vain, watching in horror as she saw playfulness and mockery in the eyes of the girl before her.

Before she could react, the girl pulled a silk thread from her pocket and flicked it rapidly toward her right hand.

As her little finger was entangled by the thread, her consciousness blurred in an instant, and her limbs were no longer under her control, as if she were a marionette.

Before her, Zhou Yilin was smiling—a smile of satisfaction, like one who had just finished watching a farce.

"Sister Zhu, have you heard of the Gunman's Dilemma? Fools expose their own strength, while the wise are often adept at feigning weakness... By the way, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. I bring you greetings on behalf of 'Sariel'."

"You..." Zhu Ling widened her eyes, suddenly recalling her experience in the previous dungeon.

At that time, she had allied with a young boy, tricked him into revealing his status as a "Sariel member" through conversation, and after much inner turmoil, ultimately chose to push him out to be executed.

It was a team dungeon where players suspected one another due to the so-called "minimum death toll" mechanism. That execution of the Sariel member had perfectly allowed them to set aside their grievances and unite under her call...

"Don't you love playing the good person? Don't you love judging the wicked? Then have you ever thought that one day, you would become the object of judgment?" The girl suddenly leaned close to Zhu Ling, reached out to grab her hair, and whispered into her ear with a gesture of feigned intimacy, "Don't worry, Sister Zhu, I will design a beautiful ending for you."

Zhu Ling's lips trembled as she wanted to apologize, to explain her helplessness, to beg for the other's forgiveness, but she found that she could not produce a single syllable.

She could not even control her own thoughts, expressions, or movements, and could only let the girl lead her, forcing her into all sorts of bizarre postures...

"...If we don't follow the standard route to clear the level, either Zhu Ling or Zhou Yilin will have to trigger the minimum death toll mechanism to kill everyone else."

In the room, Qi Si continued to hold Zhang Licai's hand, smiling faintly, though the warmth never reached his eyes: "When that time comes, you will truly die."

Zhang Licai opened his mouth, deliberating before asking: "Chang... Chang Xu, since you already have a way to crack the worldview, why not make it public?"

Qi Si pulled his hand back, looking at him as if he were a fool: "Naturally, because—I don't want to."

Suddenly, rapid knocking came from the door, and Zhou Yilin's voice, laced with tears, rang out intermittently: "Sister Zhu... she seems to want to kill me! I'm so scared..."

After his conversation with Qi Si, Zhang Licai already knew that the girl's fragility was entirely a facade.

But he would rather have known nothing at all.

At this moment, he had no choice but to pretend to be oblivious and throw himself into this absurd comedy, playing the role of a clown whose fate was not his own.

"Don't panic, lass, come inside!" Zhang Licai had always been a master of playing the fool.

With a look of pure innocence, he pushed the door open, gesturing for Zhou Yilin to enter.

Zhou Yilin shook her head slightly: "Sister Zhu's state is a bit strange, I... let's go subdue her together..."

Zhang Licai hesitated, but upon turning to see Qi Si's smiling gaze, he had no choice but to follow cautiously.

He had only walked a few steps out the door when a ferocious-looking Zhu Ling charged at him. Startled, he raised his fists in a near-reflexive reaction, flailing wildly.

The two tangled in a bizarre scuffle for a moment, and then, inexplicably... Zhu Ling collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Although the strength gap between players in the novice pool was not large, Zhang Licai still found it incredible that they had dealt with a veteran player so easily.

He sensed a strange, discordant feeling, but after feeling the direct, piercing gazes of Qi Si and Zhou Yilin beside him, he dared not dwell on it.

"Now, we are accomplices, aren't we?" Qi Si cracked a joke, though it didn't amuse anyone present.

He looked at Zhang Licai and commanded: "Go to the woodshed, find a rope, and tie her up. That will be safer."

Knowing that a pawn on the stage had no choice, Zhang Licai simply summoned the enthusiasm he used to serve his seniors in the troupe and scurried off to do as he was told.

Beside them, Zhou Yilin wiped her eyes, tears streaming down her face: "I'm sorry, she made me stay and change your Travel Guide earlier, saying if I didn't, she'd kick me out at night... I was so scared, I had no choice but to listen to her..."

Hearing this, Zhang Licai spat at the unconscious Zhu Ling on the ground: "That bitch is full of malice. If Brother Yang hadn't lost an arm at night, he wouldn't have met with disaster..."

"It's all my fault, boo-hoo..." Zhou Yilin cried with genuine-sounding sorrow, "Without me, Brother Yang wouldn't have died... boo-hoo..."

The truth was unimportant. By the late stages of a dungeon, there was always a need for a scapegoat to fill the death quota. If the others didn't want to become fish on the chopping block, they were bound to first neutralize the veteran player most capable of controlling the group.

The current situation was nothing more than a tacitly understood slander and a mutually beneficial conspiracy, with the perpetrators standing on the moral high ground to judge an imperfect victim—all for the sake of their own interests.

Qi Si looked toward the west; the sun had already tilted, and it was late afternoon.

He interrupted the two actors' dedicated performance and said: "I gathered some intelligence from Granny Su earlier. I can preliminarily determine that the god's corpse in the dungeon's background is located in the West Village, and the danger in the coming days stems from the ghosts suppressed in the Ancestral Hall."

He repeated what Granny Su had said, taking it out of context, and said in an unquestionable tone: "I suggest we split up. Zhang Licai, you and I will take a wooden bucket to the Ancestral Hall. Considering those ghosts are 'always hungry,' leaving a bucket of meat outside might buy us some time."

He made no mention of arrangements for Zhou Yilin, but the implication was clear.

Zhou Yilin glanced timidly at Qi Si and whispered: "I think I left something at the Ancestral Hall... Brother Chang, let me go with you. It's better to have three people looking out for each other..."

"Together?" Qi Si sneered. "If we encounter danger, we'll just have to see who is lucky enough to be favored by the 'minimum death toll' mechanism."

"Then... shall Brother Zhang and I go together?" Zhou Yilin tentatively suggested. "Brother Chang, you are more capable than both of us. If we run into anything, you'll have a better way to handle it than we would..."

This was her way of firmly deciding against exploring the West Village.

After all, the only two people who had gone to the West Village, Yang Yundong and Allen, were already dead; no one knew what the situation was like over there.

Qi Si seemed persuaded, his brows slightly lowered. "Since that's the case, go quickly and return soon. Once we gather a few more clues tomorrow or the day after, we'll head to the West Village."

"Mm-hmm! No problem!" Zhou Yilin looked as if she had been granted amnesty, reaching out to tug at Zhang Licai's sleeve.

The latter was confused but still allowed himself to be pulled out the door, muttering, "Why the rush? It's not dark yet, is it..."

Qi Si watched it all with a smile, seeing through Zhou Yilin's psychology as clearly as if it were reflected in a mirror.

As experienced veteran players, Zhu Ling and Yang Yundong were the targets that had to be eliminated first; as for him, Qi Si, the current leader, was he not the same?

To deal with Zhu Ling, Zhang Licai's presence was actually optional. Even if Qi Si and Zhou Yilin were to make a move in public, Zhang Licai would never dare to speak up for justice.

Qi Si knew that Zhou Yilin insisting on keeping Zhang Licai behind was merely an excuse to stage a formal curtain call for Zhu Ling; her real goal was likely to prepare for dealing with him.

If he had no backup plan, that would be perfect; if he did, she could use Zhang Licai's life to test it out.

Just as in the Rose Manor instance, where Qi Si kept Chang Xu and Lin Chen to hold back Zou Yan.

Zhou Yilin thought she had laid out a flawless trap, unaware that Qi Si was also a master screenwriter behind the scenes.

Under the guise of splitting up, Zhou Yilin wanted to unexpectedly turn Zhang Licai to her side.

In her view, Qi Si would never imagine that she would act so ruthlessly when there was no conflict of interest.

But Qi Si was nothing if not a complete lunatic, a pervert with hands stained in blood.

He intentionally created opportunities to act alone and never intended for his teammates to survive.

Watching Zhou Yilin and Zhang Licai walk out the gate one after the other, their figures gradually shrinking until they were swallowed by the jagged, interlocking houses of the East Village, a hint of tenderness appeared in Qi Si's gaze.

He counted the time silently, estimating that the two were far enough away, before dragging the unconscious Zhu Ling, stepping over the threshold, and heading toward the West Village.

Both Zhou Yilin and Zhang Licai suffered from a cognitive bias; they never imagined this instance could be ended early, nor did they think a player's stance could deviate from the human faction.

Qi Si had indeed intentionally deepened their misunderstanding, creating sufficient time and information gaps to make tonight the perfect moment to break the game.

Gray fog permeated the roads of the West Village, and dry dust was kicked into mid-air by a wind from nowhere, dispersing, separating, and recombining, mixing with the mist to pull up a grand curtain.

The grayish-white sunlight diffused through refraction and reflection, and the sky and earth to the west began to fade in his vision, gradually presenting a vast, white expanse.

Qi Si dragged Zhu Ling toward the densest part of the fog. He walked for an unknown amount of time, only stopping when the outlines of scenery and objects were no longer visible, whispering to an invisible presence:

"All the mechanics are clear. I only need to consume the God Meat every day and pay respects at the Ancestral Hall on the final day to clear my sins and safely clear the instance. But that is too boring; I don't like it."

"If I were to leave just like the players before me, you would likely have to wait in bitterness for many more years. And I have always been a greedy person, happy to demand repayment for favors and kick people when they are down."

"I must gain greater benefits for paying extra costs to be willing—I just wonder, what kind of price are you willing to offer for this?"

The sun had not yet set, and the dangers of the night had not yet descended; yet, the dangerous creatures were already half-closing their eyes, waiting for the night to arrive to carry out a long-planned ritual.

Without vision or reference points, Qi Si held the Pocket Watch high, placing it against his ear.

Listening to the steady, calm "tick-tock," he felt as if he could hear his own heartbeat, or perhaps it was just an illusion.

Countless boundaries blurred and swirled along with the vast fog, then dissipated into the wind and frost like flowing mist in the mountains.

Qi Si's eyes were lowered, half-asleep and half-awake. He enjoyed this chaos, emptiness, and tranquility, just like closing his eyes to pretend to sleep in a dark room filled with evil spirits and ghosts, pretending that he, too, was a member of the non-human collective.

In the deathly silence of the gray-white, he heard the "click" of the hour hand falling into place, slightly more distinct than the movement of the second hand.

It told him that the sun had set.