As dusk deepened toward night, the monks lit candles, set them on the long table, and hurried away.
Wei Yanchi took the initiative to greet him, his voice clear. "Good evening, Mr. 39."
Xie De glanced at him and sat in the nearest empty seat, his gaze sweeping over the other four people present.
Each group had five members. The group caring for the orphans consisted of three men and two women: Xie De, Beiwei, Ying Lin, Wang Peng, and Mo Jingchun.
The food distribution group consisted of four men and one woman: Wei Yanchi, Zhuoerte, Gui Ji, Zhao Junhao, and Zeng Huan.
The group caring for the sick consisted of three women and two men: Yue Xiamo, Lü Yating, Huang Sixin, and two men who needed no introduction here, since they were precisely the two who had failed to appear. Being newcomers, they were probably dead.
People were dying a little fast.
Xie De hardly dared imagine how many people would still be alive on day fourteen. All the newcomers would probably be dead by then, wouldn't they?
He lowered his eyes and stared idly at the tabletop, quietly waiting for the other big shots at the table to speak.
Silence settled over them.
The sky darkened quickly, and soon the last light vanished. Everyone's face flickered in and out of view in the dim candlelight, lending them an air of mystery.
Wei Yanchi began slowly, "This instance tests our ability to trust one another. I'd like us to have less infighting and more cooperation."
He said outright, "I'm a Regressor. I have memories of the first loop."
Everyone turned to look at him, some puzzled, some surprised, some looking as though he had confirmed their suspicions...
Wei Yanchi shrugged. "I have no reason to hide the fact that