Infinite weird games

In the second half of the night, Zhang Yiyu woke up from hunger.

She hadn't eaten for a long time. As a weird, she didn't need to take in human food, and she wouldn't starve to death even if she didn't eat anything.

But after dinner, she felt a strange hunger, as if some hidden desire buried in her heart was aroused, and she couldn't suppress it anymore.

After finishing her plate, she was still not satisfied. Looking at the players next to her who couldn't eat, she really felt that it was a waste of food.

She knew that her feelings were abnormal, so she didn't dare to show too much enthusiasm. She could only solve half of the food of the female player of the Tingfeng Guild in the name of helping to share.

The hunger was relieved a lot at that time. She finally waited until the lights were turned off and tried her best to let herself fall asleep.

She thought she could wait for tomorrow's breakfast peacefully, but she didn't want to lose the suppression of her willpower in her dream, and the hunger grew more rampantly, gradually overwhelming her reason.

I'm so hungry... I 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 know where to find food naturally. Like a flock of sheep being grazed, she climbed down the stairs 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 past the office to the archive room next to it.

The food she had expected was inside. The door of the archive room was wide open, as if a feast had been set up to invite people in.

There was clearly no lighting, but Zhang Yiyu could clearly see the most attractive thing in the scene.

It was a young man lying in a pool of blood. His thin limbs could not bite off much flesh and blood. Half of the back of his head was cut off, and brain matter and blood were still flowing out.

This person was obviously dead, but he was always emitting a seductive aura, just like a dish of half-cooked foie gras that no one had touched yet.

Zhang Yiyu was shocked by her own thoughts, and her rationality briefly recovered, stirring up fear as a human being.

She went out at night and came to the first floor and met a dead person... What is this?

Moreover, why would she have an appetite for corpses?

This can't be done, she has to be a human being, and can't become a real ghost...

However, soon, instinct took the upper hand again, and Zhang Yiyu's eyes were blurred.

Anyway, as a ghost, she couldn't do a live broadcast, so what was wrong with doing something that was not allowed by public order and morality?

The strong smell of blood exuded an alluring fragrance, and 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, just eat a bite, it shouldn't be a problem if you eat a bite...

When Qi Si returned to the dormitory, Chen Lidong hadn't come back yet.

The uninhabited and lightless environment has completely become the territory of ghosts.

On the empty bed, a thin figure lay, and the ghost in the shape of a child looked at him with sad eyes, with condemnation and pain on his face, as if questioning why he was still alive in this world.

Qis pressed the switch of the lighter, and the orange-red flame faintly illuminated a space. The shadow of the ghost disappeared in the moment of negligence, as if it had never existed.

"Is it an illusion caused by 'insomnia'?" Qis had a vague guess and looked down at the fate pocket watch.

The pointer of the pocket watch moved conscientiously, the second hand passed one grid per second, and the gear drove the minute hand next to it to rotate slightly. At first glance, there was nothing unusual.

After seeing the description of "group hallucination" in the record, Qis almost immediately thought of the scene in "The Hopeless Sea" - everyone was trapped in a huge dream, and they needed to find the key to the dream to really wake up.

He vaguely remembered that in the dream of the Hopeless Sea, the pointer of the fate pocket watch was stagnant, because the passage of time in the dream depends on the subjective and cannot be observed by objective things.

But here, the fate pocket watch moves steadily from beginning to end, and the speed of movement is consistent with the speed of time flow, which basically eliminates the possibility that the player is in a dream.

"Is it because the nature of hallucinations and dreams is different? Or... the space I am in now is real?" Qi Si looked at the statement "marking objective time" on the prop description and fell into deep thought.

The time of this copy is undoubtedly very important.

In the records of insomnia, the timeline of children from infection to death is very clear. Players need to understand the time node they are in before they can make rational decisions based on the records.

So, what exactly does "objective time" mean?

The speed of time in the copy is completely different from that in reality, and "objective" is a relative concept. Qi Si tends to think that the time in the copy is similar to a "progress bar" or something like that.

The "Grand Performance" copy gave Qi Si inspiration. Each copy has a potential timeline, and specific events will occur at each time node.

Just like the unshakable reincarnation every three days in "Rose Manor"; in the "Double Happiness Town" copy, the wedding banquet on the second day and the night parade of a hundred ghosts on the third day...

The speed of the pointer of the fate pocket watch is undoubtedly consistent with the scrolling speed of this time axis. So on this basis, is it possible to build an illusion world with the same time flow speed on the bottom of the real world?

Qis took out a white paper from his backpack and looked at the line he had excerpted not long ago: "The collective illusion of the children constructed a new school on top of the school."

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 Medina ladies...

Qisi sat on the edge of the bed, trying to reason along the vines of his thoughts. Thousands of threads were wandering in his mind. All kinds of invalid information and meaningless pictures were flying in front of 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.

Zeis cherishes his thinking ability and is so superstitious that it is almost like worshiping a god, because in his opinion, it is the only thing he can rely on, and it is also the only talent that determines what he is.

Any 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 cut his own throat immediately and end his life...

After thinking about it in such a messy way, Qiss realized that he 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 shown on the destiny pocket watch was exactly two-thirty in the morning, which was 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.

Records can indeed effectively assist thinking. Although Zisi's mind is still filled with all kinds of messy thoughts like vines, 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 would be back soon.

Zeiss folded the paper with the 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. Zeiss 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. 】

But Qisi didn't even have any 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 didn't expect that some people were 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 violently breaking into doors. 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 is built on the door, sealing almost every corner. If you don't look carefully, you won't notice that there is 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 dazed beside him, "Xiao Zhou, don't be stunned. Is there any tool you can use? Take it with you." 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.

After knocking off a few more cement blocks, he saw something, scratched his head, pointed at a line of words on the ground that looked like insects crawling and snakes, and said: "Brother Chen, what do you think this is? It looks a bit like words... "

When Chen Lidong heard this, he 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, which did not belong to any kind of writing in the world he knew, but rather resembled the incantations of a witch in a fantasy worldview.

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 smeared 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 to illuminate.

He saw faint fingerprints scattered around the characters, probably imprinted 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 naive smile.

Delicate... Chen Lidong felt a flash of lightning in his mind, and immediately blurted out: "Nails."

"...It was carved with fingernails. I guess the children lay there and played with it while the cement was still wet."

Chen Lidong said in a nonchalant tone, but 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?