A pale seabed stretched out before him, with a Lighthouse made of lines standing tall upon it. Yet from the outside, Deathstroke seemed to vanish the moment he entered the structure.
Still, he did not care what this painting might become in the Future. He remained focused on solving the puzzle. What he had said earlier meant exactly what it sounded like, and it was easy enough to understand.
No matter how many times the interior of this Lighthouse changed, no matter how much it might change in the Future, and regardless of whether it was influenced by the Observer's subjective will, it had always been a Lighthouse.
It had not become a water tower, a blast furnace, or a huge smokestack. That was enough.
Lighthouses had one defining trait: their tops could shine, meaning they contained a light-source structure. Thus, Su Ming concluded that the answer he sought was at the top of the Lighthouse.
So he was climbing the stairs.
This Lighthouse looked practically like a ruin, and its wooden stairs creaked under his feet as though they could no longer bear the strain. But that was only a minor issue. There was a reason he had deliberately chosen such a dilapidated Lighthouse instead of leaving and resetting the scene.
The interiors of the previous two Lighthouses had certainly looked nice, but they had been cluttered with far too many scattered decorations. There was no telling how many little ornaments and knickknacks sat on a single floor alone.
In a point-and-click puzzle game, this sort of setting was the most annoying. The more information crammed into the screen, the harder it was to find the items needed to solve the puzzle.
But this one? There were not nearly as many distractions. On the first floor, aside from broken