Chapter 169 Red Maple Leaf Boarding School (14) "He seems to have forgotten something"
Later in the middle of the night, Zhang Yiyu woke up from hunger.
She hasn't eaten for a long time. As a weirdo, she really doesn't need to take in human food. She won't starve to death even if she doesn't eat anything.
But after dinner, she felt a strange hunger, as if some hidden desire buried in her heart had been aroused, and she could no longer suppress it.
After finishing the food on her plate, she was still unsatisfied. Looking at the expressions of the players beside her who couldn't eat, she really felt that everything was wasted.
She knew her feelings were abnormal, so she didn't dare to show too much enthusiasm. She could only buy half of the food of the female player from the Tingfeng Guild in the name of helping to share the burden.
The hunger was alleviated a lot at that time. She finally waited until the lights were turned off and tried her best to fall asleep.
She thought she could wait until tomorrow's breakfast in peace, but she didn't want to lose her willpower and suppress her hunger in her hazy dream, growing more crazily and gradually overpowering her reason.
So hungry...I really want to eat something...
Zhang Yiyu muttered silently in her heart, got up from the bed like a ghost, and walked out of the door step by step.
She seemed to naturally know where to go in search of food. She walked down the stairs like a herd of sheep and wandered in the corridor on the first floor.
The smell of food was getting closer and closer. Zhang Yiyu swallowed her saliva and tiptoed across the office to the nearby archives room.
The food that I expected was inside, and the door of the archives room was wide open, as if a banquet had been prepared to invite people in.
There was clearly no lighting, but Zhang Yiyu could clearly see what attracted her most in the scene.
That was a young man lying in a pool of blood. His thin limbs could not chew off much flesh and blood. Half of the back of his head had been cut off, and brains and blood were still flowing out.
This man was visibly dead, but he exuded an aura of temptation all the time, just like a plate of half-cooked foie gras that no one had touched with chopsticks.
Zhang Yiyu was startled by her own thoughts, and her rationality briefly recovered, arousing the fear of being a human being.
She went out at night and came to the first floor, where she met a dead person... What is all this?
And why does she have an appetite for corpses?
Is it because she is a fake person? Why didn't Ning Xu tell her that she still had this characteristic?
She couldn't be like this, she had to be a human being and couldn't become a real ghost...
However, soon, instinct took over again, and Zhang Yiyu's eyes were blurred.
As a ghost, she can’t broadcast live anyway, so what’s the point of doing something that is not allowed by public order and good customs?
The rich smell of blood exuded an alluring fragrance. Zhang Yiyu's consciousness fell into ignorance inch by inch. In the end, there was only one thought left in her mind -
It looks delicious, so just eat it. One bite, one bite should be fine...
......
When Qisi returned to the dormitory, Chen Lidong had not returned yet.
The uninhabited and lightless environment has completely become the domain of ghosts.
A emaciated figure lay on the empty bed. The child-like ghost looked at him with sad eyes, a look of condemnation and pain on his face, as if asking him why he was still living in this world. superior.
Chisi pressed the switch of the lighter, and the orange-red firelight faintly illuminated a space. The shadow of the ghost disappeared inadvertently, as if it had never existed in the first place.
"Is it a hallucination caused by 'insomnia'?" Qisi had a vague guess and looked down at the fate pocket watch.
The hands of the pocket watch move conscientiously, the second hand moves through one frame every second, and the minute hand next to it is rotated slightly through the gear. At first glance, there is nothing unusual.
After seeing the description of "group hallucination" in the record, Ziss almost immediately thought of the scene in "The Hopeless Sea" - everyone is trapped in a huge dream and needs to Only by finding the key to the dream can we truly wake up.
He vaguely remembered that in the dream of Hopeless Sea, the pointer of the fate pocket watch was stagnant, because the passage of time in the dream depends on subjectivity and cannot be observed by objective things.
But here, the destiny pocket watch moves steadily from beginning to end, and the moving speed is consistent with the flow of time, which can basically rule out the possibility that the player is in a dream.
"Is it because hallucinations and dreams are different in nature? Or... is the space I'm in now real?" Ziss looked at the statement "marking objective time" on the prop description and fell into deep thought.
The timing of this copy is undoubtedly important.
In the records about insomnia, the timeline of children from infection to death is very clear. Players need to understand where they are in order to make rational decisions based on the records.
So, what exactly does "objective time" refer to?
The time flow speeds of copy and reality are completely different, and "objective" is a relative concept.
Ziss tends to believe that the time in the copy is similar to a "progress bar" or something like that.
The copy of "The Grand Show" inspired Qiss. Each copy has a potential timeline, and specific events will occur at each time node.
Just like in "Rose Manor", there is an unshakable reincarnation every three days; another example is in the copy of "Double Happiness Town", the wedding banquet on the second day and the Night Walk of Hundreds of Ghosts on the third day...
The pointer speed of the destiny pocket watch is undoubtedly consistent with the rolling speed of this timeline. So based on this, is it possible to build an illusion world with the same time flow rate on the bottom of the real world?
Ziss took out the blank paper from his backpack and looked at the line "The children's group hallucination constructed a new school on top of the school" that he excerpted not long ago.
The direction was too clear, almost slapping the standard answer on the player's face, making him wonder for a moment whether this was just misleading information with no practical meaning.
New school...time...two Ms. Medina...
Sis sat on the edge of the bed, trying to reason along the vines of thinking, with thousands of thoughts in his mind His thoughts wandered wildly, and all kinds of invalid information and meaningless pictures flew before his eyes, making it impossible for him to get the exact information out of them. He couldn't help but have some bad premonitions. For example, "insomnia" would not only affect his sleep, but also affect his thinking.
Chis cherishes his thinking ability and is so superstitious that it is almost like worshiping gods, just because in his opinion, it is the only thing he can rely on, and it is also the reason why he is what he is. His only gift.
Any slight decline in his thinking ability is enough to make him uneasy and nervous. If this decline is irreversible, he will be in extreme pain.
He once thought that if one day he found out that he had become a fool, he would slit his throat immediately and end his life...
After thinking about it in such a messy way, Qisi Realized I was distracted.
Perhaps due to the mental exhaustion caused by a sleepless night, he is now easily distracted by various thoughts that suddenly pop up like bubbles, and is unable to focus on effective areas.
The time displayed on the destiny pocket watch is exactly two-thirty in the morning, which is still early before the second bedtime check at four o'clock.
Zeiss picked up the pen and, using the dim light of the lighter, wrote down line after line of information on the paper, from known clues, inferences about the copy, to his own identity.
——He clearly remembers that after the "insomnia" becomes terminally ill, the patient will forget who he is.
Recording can indeed effectively assist thinking. Although there are still all kinds of messy vine-like thoughts in Qisi's mind, he can finally sort out a relatively clear thread from them.
The hands reached three o'clock in the morning, and I estimated the time. Chen Lidong was coming back soon.
Qisi folded the paper with writing on it and stuffed it into the compartment of his backpack.
It seems that something has been stuffed there, so that when the new paper is stuffed in, it feels sluggish.
His fingertips touched another piece of paper that was folded squarely and flattened. Qisi took it out with two fingers and flattened it in front of his eyes.
I saw it clearly written in his handwriting:
[There is a calendar in the left corner of the school's main entrance, today's date is June 1, 1869. 】
As for Qisi, he had no impression of this.
...
On the second floor of the school, Chen Lidong and Zhou Datong each held a torch and walked towards the bottom corner of the corridor one after the other.
After coming out of the dormitory, Chen Lidong used the communication function of the ring to call Zhou Datong, and the two went to the first floor together.
He originally wanted to enter the office to search, but he did not expect that some people were one step ahead of him and had already met inside the office.
He had no intention of joining in the fun, and with the idea of "come out, come out", he turned around and led Zhou Datong to the second floor.
Zhou Datong said that there are two rooms on the second floor that cannot be opened, so no one has gone in to see them. One can imagine that there must be a lot of good stuff in it.
Chen Lidong happens to have weapons and props that are convenient for violent break-ins. If he doesn’t go now, when will he wait?
Not long after, Chen Lidong and Zhou Datong stood between two rooms sealed by cement.
The two rooms are arranged on two walls, facing each other, and have a sense of axial symmetry. A thick layer of gray cement was built on the door, sealing almost every corner. If you didn't look carefully, you wouldn't even notice that there was a door here.
Chen Lidong took out the [White Blade] from the toolbar and held it in his hand. The silver-white dagger flashed faintly in the dim light. Without hesitation, he thrust the tip of the knife into the solid wall with his backhand and slashed downwards, creating a crack.
"As expected of the boss's props, they are really cutting iron like clay." Chen Lidong sighed and looked at Zhou Datong, who was standing beside him blankly. "Xiao Zhou, don't be stunned. Is there any tool you can use? The handle."
Zhou Datong woke up from a dream, hurriedly took out a crowbar from his backpack, and knocked on the cement on the door in a decent manner.
A few more cement blocks were knocked off, and he saw something. He scratched his head, pointed at a line of words on the ground that looked like insects crawling and snaked, and said: "Brother Chen, what do you think this is? Look at it. It's a bit like a word..."
Hearing this, Chen Lidong stopped what he was doing and looked in the direction he was pointing.
On that small patch of cement floor, hair-thin strokes carved out a series of delicate symbols. They did not belong to any kind of writing in the world that he knew, but rather resembled those of witches in a fantasy world view. incantation.
The cement used as a writing board was obviously built later, probably from the same period as the cement used to build the door, because it overflowed from the crack in the door and was wiped directly on the ground by the builder to save trouble.
Chen Lidong squatted down, reached out to brush off the dust on the characters, lowered the torch to the ground, and brought it close to the lines of characters to illuminate.
He saw faint fingerprints scattered around those characters, probably printed with his fingers when the cement was still wet.
But why would someone lie down on the ground and print fingerprints on the cement?
"Brother Chen, what did you use to carve this word on? Why is it so delicate?" Zhou Datong asked with a smile.
Delicate... Chen Lidong felt a flash of lightning in his mind, and immediately blurted out: "Fingernails."
"...It was carved with fingernails. It was probably a child lying there while the cement was still wet. Just for fun."
Chen Lidong said in a nonchalant tone, while his triangular eyes stared at the words on the ground.
He intuitively felt that it was a crucial clue, but no matter how long he stared at the text on the ground, no corresponding translation appeared on the system interface.
Is it because the content of the text is not important, or is it for some other reason?
Thank you for giving Chang Xu the little chicken drumstick! Thanks to Alexandre Dumas 6, Book Friends 20220117215624184, Konglan Tu, and Book Friends 20220918124115390 for the 2 monthly passes! Thanks to book friends 20210301105260496052, Hungry Old Silverfish, Know-It-All, Day Without Dreams, Qing Qiao, and Immortal Sword of Immortality for your monthly votes!
(By the way, I recommend a book, thank you to the Swordsman of Sichuan for the chapter recommendation!)
(End of this chapter)