Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Belated bonus chapter
Zhao Yicheng and Sun Xiaoyan’s complexion immediately became a little bad, and they glared at Mo Yi. “What do you mean?”
Mo Yi didn’t directly answer the question. Instead, he took a step forward, perfectly composed, remaining calm and unruffled in the midst of chaos and looked at the two of them, and said, “When the side mission is opened, only the person who opened the mission has the ability to see it. Am I right, ba?”
The complexion of the two people on the opposite side looked green and red, and they didn’t reply for a while.
“So, who can tell me how you figured out that I opened the side mission, ne?”
Complexion gloomy, Sun Xiaoyan replied, “That … of course it was redeemed for in our in-game store. I was precisely afraid that you, this kind of pig teammate who isn’t cautious, would not be careful and open a side mission, causing all of us to die —”
“Then, shouldn’t you have redeemed something that prevented a mission from opening? Why did you want to redeem this sort of prop that looks like it gives advice after the event?” Mo Yi narrowed his eyes, his tone a little sharp.
Sun Xiaoyan was stunned, immediately agape and tongue-tied, unable to come up with a response.
Mo Yi continued to speak without regard for others, “Is what you want to say that if we open a mission that we are unable to complete, you’d conveniently take over and save all of us, ne?”
Sun Xiaoyan’s face turned a bluish white. She took a step forward impulsively and blurted out, “You …”
However, she had only said one word when, from out of the corners of her eyes, she came into contact with Song Qi who had been silent since the beginning.
An inexplicable fear surged within her heart, and the words that were on the verge of slipping out were blocked in her trembling throat.
Song Qi indifferently withdrew his gaze, still not saying a word.
Mo Yi stood beside him with a peaceful face, emotions unable to be made out. He smiled and said, “If I’m not mistaken, that “newcomer” before who was about to open the door was one of your people, ba.”
Prior to entering the game, Jiang Yuanrou had once introduced to him the three types of senior players in the game.
One type was completely ignorant of the hidden missions — or even if they did know, they were unwilling to take the risks. They were satisfied to just get through it, passing copy by copy. This kind of player had a relatively high survival rate, so the proportionate amount was the highest in comparison.
The second type was small in numbers. They walked on the edge of danger and opened hidden missions in order to earn higher points. This type of player generally had a very high casualty rate. Thus, the number was also smaller.
And the other type were extremely vile people.
They took advantage of the use of props to roam around in low-level copies. After the newcomers and highly experienced senior players opened the side mission, by means of threats and promises, they forced the other party to include them in the side mission, exhausting all means to forcibly grab the chance to get points.
At the very beginning, Mo Yi had some doubts about them.
Zhao Yicheng’s desire to take control was too strong.
He took the initiative to establish an image of being a saviour, and then through words and actions, he subtly instilled the image of himself as the ruler and leader into the hearts of everyone.
He instructed everyone to look for clues yet didn’t share the slightest amount or degree of information of his own. Blindly digging up roots and inquiring at the base, he and Sun Xiaoyan discreetly questioned the other players for information, even unscrupulously using the manner of playing good cop bad cop to interrogate where the information originated from.
And what made Mo Yi truly connect Zhao Yicheng and other people with the third sort of senior players was during mealtime.
He noticed that the “newcomer” who opened the door and courted death, for two whole days including up to now, hadn’t taken a piece of black bread — then, where did the newcomer get her source of food?
These little bits and pieces of doubt, similar to scattered beads, accumulated more and more in Mo Yi’s mind.
And the behaviour of Zhao Yicheng and Sun Xiaoyan just now was like a long intact thread connecting all the beads, bringing things together.
Zhao Yicheng and Sun Xiaoyan had stiff expressions, faces ashen, looking at Mo Yi with anxiety and doubt.
Zhao Yicheng coughed twice, mechanically tugging up the corners of his lips as a reluctant smile appeared on his face. He opened his mouth, seemingly still wanting to explain.
Mo Yi immediately curbed the smile on his face.
His expression was indifferent. His expressionless face held a deterrence force. “Well, it’s almost time to rest. After all, the difficulty of the copy is about to increase, so it’s better to go back as soon as possible.”
Zhao Yicheng was intimidated by the emotion showing from within Mo Yi’s eyes, and a layer of cold sweat suddenly seeped from his back.
After a few seconds, he realized that he was actually frightened by a young man during the first round of talks.
Zhao Yicheng flushed, flying into a rage of humiliation, no longer assuming that kind of hypocritical smile. He glared at Mo Yi with hatred, and finally said resentfully to Sun Xiaoyan in a low voice, “Go.”
Sun Xiaoyan’s lips unwillingly curled, a bitter expression of resentment on her face.
One in front, one in the back, the two walked to the resting area.
Watching from behind as their figures were swallowed by the darkness deep in the corridor, Mo Yi lowered his head and looked at his watch: 8:45.
There were still fifteen minutes until the lights turned off.
Mo Yi appeared to have a lot pressing on his mind. He turned his head, somewhat absentminded, to look at Song Qi who was next to him. “You be careful tonight. When all is said and done, no one knows what changes will occur to this copy.”
He thought for a while, and continued to add, “Also, you have to be careful of these two people. They are very unlikely to give up just like that.”
After that, Mo Yi turned and walked into the corridor.
He had just walked two steps when he felt that his arm was grasped.
Mo Yi turned his head in surprise and looked at Song Qi.
His face was still unruffled by the great waves, and his lips, already bloodless, were pressed tightly, as if carved out of marble.
His complexion appeared to be even more pale, and his eyebrows were faintly twisted.
Song Qi closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and hesitantly said, “What they said just now, don’t take it to heart.”
Mo Yi stared blankly for a few seconds, and only reacted a moment later when he realized that Song Qi was referring to Sun Xiaoyan’s remarks just then.
He smiled, the general facial appearance indifferent. “Every mechanism in this game is to force the players to compete. However, it doesn’t display its intentions by putting it on the table. Rather, it resembles a frog being slowly stewed in lukewarm water. It’s similar to killing people with blunt knives, making players either follow its intentions for freedom and life, or for the massive benefits of the points store.”
And regardless of what the player was struggling for, in the end, everyone was voluntarily or involuntarily thrown into the game.
— After all, no one would want to be trapped for eternity in one never ending horrifying copy after another.
Mo Yi raised his eyes and looked at Song Qi.
The colour of his eyes was especially deep. Under the light, it was a heavy black, like an approaching abyss. In this moment, he appeared to be calm, almost to the point of cruelty, “And for those who don’t accept the rules of the game, death is only a matter of time.”
Song Qi let go of his grip of Mo Yi’s arm.
He watched Mo Yi’s straight back as he strode into the dark corridor without hesitation and was swallowed by the deep darkness.
Song Qi slowly curled the corners of his lips, his facial expression was soft, almost affectionate. In the next second, his entire figure was hidden in the darkness and then completely vanished.
Mo Yi walked along the narrow and remote corridor alone, and the wooden floor creaked under his feet.
He held his breath with rapt attention, carefully listening to any sounds of activity from behind him.
Song Qi did not follow.
Mo Yi didn’t know whether to relax or let out a deep tense sigh. Under his long eyelashes, his gaze was somewhat complicated.
When he was underground, he noticed that in the end, when the side mission was opened, Song Qi’s name was no longer listed.
There was only one explanation for this situation.
Song Qi was not a player.
In order to not beat the grass to startle the snake, Mo Yi covered up how guarded he was from the beginning, putting great effort into pretending that business was as usual on the surface. Yet, the bottom of his heart was like a tempestuous storm that was set off.
The previous clues had almost been completely strung together.
All the doubts surrounding this “person”, Song Qi. as well as his unexpected attachment to himself.
Perhaps, to add to that, during the end of the last copy, a sudden madness abruptly arose, making him drink the mist’s blood.
Therefore, Mo Yi had reason to suspect — this “Song Qi” was the mist from the last copy when it was on the verge of closing.
In this game, for the first time, he hesitated a little.
It was similar to a coding error that exceeded his expectations, so stark and arupt, harshly running all the way through his plans, representing danger and uncertainty.
The other party hadn’t shown malicious intentions towards him before today, but how could he believe that the other party would never show ill will? This was the equivalent of putting one’s trust and life in the hands of an unknown factor that was out of one’s control.
The most sensible thing to do was to stay as far away as possible or find a way to “get rid” of it.
It was like deleting that chaotic and messy line of error in the ranks of orderly and elegant code, returning the grace and smoothness back into the workings of the world.
However, Mo Yi was slightly wavering now.
Just now, before asking him the question, “Song Qi” obviously wanted to tell him something, but the entire game seemed to prevent it — just as it prevented Jiang Yuanrou from revealing information about it to the outside world.
In connection with “Song Qi”‘s gradually paling complexion, it seemed that it started after he saved himself.
Mo Yi guessed that the entire game framework had restrictions on him. He was afraid that he, who existed outside of this copy, was not allowed to take part in the entire copy, and he was further not permitted to intervene as he wished in the way the players operated.
Mo Yi subconsciously rubbed the joints of his thumb, eyebrows closely knitted together, appearing deeply worried and sick at heart.
What was more, Mo Yi still hadn’t figured out why “Song Qi” was so amiable towards him.
After all, he was pretty sure he hadn’t had any social interactions with similar “creatures” in the last twenty years.
The dim corridor was about to come to an end, and the door of his own room was in front of him.
Mo Yi let out a sigh of relief, dispelling the chaotic thoughts within the bottom of his heart, and settled his thoughts.
Then he reached out and held the door frame, turned around, and walked in.
He stopped in place.
In this absolutely empty room was another person.
A short little girl stood with her back to him, standing in front of the window sealed by wooden beams, gazing out the window, spellbound.
Tiny, slender, thin hands rested on the window.
Mo Yi couldn’t help but hold his breath.
Seemingly sensing Mo Yi’s arrival, the little girl slowly turned her head.
One side of her cheeks was badly mangled and caved in. One could practically see the shattered skull and streams of overflowing brain. The long blond hair was stained with blood. She swivelled a pair of damaged blue eyes and looked at Mo Yi.
Using a soft, childlike voice, and asked, “Have you seen my bunny?”
— At this moment, the ear-piercing bell for lights off rang.
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