Once the notification [Contract Signed] appeared, Qi Si retracted the blade and reached down to pull Chang Xu up from the ground.
He couldn't haul him up in one go. With a shrug of indifference, he let go, stood aside with his arms crossed, and briefly explained the cause and effect of the incident.
"The three puppets were Hansen, Ye Linsheng, and Lu Li," he began. "After Hansen died unexpectedly, I suspected Lu Li was one of them, so I went to confront him. To avoid being publicly exposed, he transferred the Puppet Threads from Ye Linsheng to me and misled the other players into suspecting you."
Pushing himself up with his elbows, Chang Xu managed to get to his feet. He challenged, "Why would Lu Li want the others to suspect me? What could he possibly gain from that?"
"Not bad. You're learning to analyze motives," Qi Si remarked approvingly. "As for what he'd gain... for one, it completes his trio of puppets, completely clearing him of suspicion. For another, it would probably leave both you and me stranded on this island, so he wouldn't have to compete with you for a spot to survive."
Chang Xu's intuition screamed that the reason was flimsy, tinged with an oddness he couldn't quite place. He couldn't help but argue, "With Lu Li's capabilities, he wouldn't need such a convoluted scheme just to get rid of me."
"Which is why I figured he was after you for something—he admitted it himself yesterday. For whatever reason, though, he changed his mind and chose to leave on the ship, taking the Normal End route." As he spoke, Qi Si bent down and pulled Liu Yuhan up from the ground. He succeeded this time, restoring a shred of confidence in his own strength.
A beat late, Chang Xu also moved to support Liu Yuhan, pressing his question. "What did Lu Li want from me?"
"You'd have to ask yourself that," Qi Si scoffed. "All I know is that he's studied you inside and out. He has a clear and accurate grasp of your behavior, your choices, your entire way of thinking. Even his decision to make a move on me was calculated with you in mind."
The confusion in Chang Xu's eyes intensified.
Then he heard the young man's sarcastic voice again. "And that's why, more than anything, I detest idiots who livestream. They don't just screw themselves over; they bring everyone else down with them."
So that was it?
It suddenly dawned on Chang Xu why Qi Si had put a blade to his throat and forced him to shut down his stream.
The livestream feature in the Weird Game was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it could make "slaughter-stream" players think twice, but on the other, it exposed your secrets—and the secrets of those around you—to the world.
He and many of his seniors had started streaming for one reason: to document the mechanics of as many instances as possible, helping the Weird Investigation Bureau consolidate intelligence and develop theories. He just never imagined that after only two streams, he'd be targeted by the Sariel Guild.
The Sariel Guild, just as his superiors had suspected, had been lying low for a long time, planning something big...
Qi Si had no idea what wild theories were running through Chang Xu's mind, but one look at his face was enough to know the man had bought his explanation hook, line, and sinker.
He picked up his pace, taking the lead. "Let's check out the altar. If all goes well, we should be on our way to the True End."
Without a word, Liu Yuhan followed, trailing Qi Si as he led them back to the white stone platform encircled by colossal fish bones.
Chang Xu brought up the rear, still persistent with his questions. "Those ghosts... they followed your commands because you gave the statue to Yuna and made a deal, didn't you? But why were they able to harm me when I had more than enough money?"
"Not a bad guess," Qi Si said, tapping his chin, his voice laced with amusement. "Those ghosts couldn't actually hurt you, of course. They only restrained you. If you were mentally tough enough, you could have just laid there all night and taken a nap."
And then you would've killed me, wouldn't you?
Chang Xu added silently, then pressed on. "There's something wrong with the time. You've known for a while, haven't you?"
"Not too long ago. I only figured it out last night," Qi Si explained patiently. "I didn't get any sleep, so I took the opportunity to count the chimes. Turns out the clock tower was cutting corners. The sleep period is shorter than the twelve hours we assumed."
A memory flashed through Chang Xu's mind—the morning of their second day in the instance, when he'd asked the young man for the exact time.
The young man had adjusted the hands on his wristwatch, smiled, and told him it was "eight in the morning"...
Looking back, that gesture—adjusting the hands of the watch—was deeply suspicious.
"You lied to me," Chang Xu's voice held an unconscious trace of resentment. "You led me to believe the clock tower chimed twelve times a day, corresponding to twenty-four hours of real-world time..."
"No, I simply made a misjudgment at the beginning." Qi Si lifted his left wrist, showing its face to Chang Xu. The second hand was perfectly still. "The Fate Pocket Watch is supposed to display 'objective time.' The time on this island, however, seems to fall under the category of subjective time. The moment I arrived here, the watch became useless."
He slipped his left hand back into his shirt pocket and continued, "My initial assessment was the same as yours. Since the rules explicitly stated 'the clock tower chimes once every two hours,' I assumed four chimes naturally meant it was eight in the morning. So I simply told you my conclusion. As it turns out, I was wrong."
A suspicious look crossed Chang Xu's face. "Someone at your level wouldn't make such a basic mistake."
Qi Si laughed. "You give me too much credit, Chang Xu. Everyone makes mistakes. I'm only human, not a god."
He said it with such sincerity, yet Chang Xu couldn't shake the feeling that he was being played for a fool.
Qi Si had a knack for telling lies that sounded like the gospel truth, all while maintaining a look of perfect innocence and insisting on his version of events.
Looking at his expression, listening to the cadence of his voice, it was impossible to tell which of his words were true and which were lies.
Chang Xu knew he wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him, so he returned to the point. "So, what's the real timeline?"
"During the prescribed sleeping period, the clock tower skips three chimes: the ones for eleven o'clock, one o'clock, and three o'clock. In a twenty-four-hour cycle, that means each day is short by six hours," Qi Si explained. "In other words, what you perceive as a full day is actually only eighteen hours."
Chang Xu quickly ran the calculation in his head.
The second diary entry stated, "Keep track of the time from the moment you land on the island. An opportunity to leave presents itself every three days."
Lu Li had proposed leaving tonight because he believed it was already the third day.
But if a day only lasted eighteen hours, then a full fifty-four hours had passed at most—just two days and six hours.
They would have to wait one more day to reach the seventy-two-hour mark, the true third day by a twenty-four-hour count...
Chang Xu rubbed the back of his neck with his thumb. "What happens if you don't leave at the designated time?"
"Who knows? Maybe they'll die," Qi Si said. At some point, he had pulled Liu Yuhan to stand behind Chang Xu. "What are you so worried about? Who can be a hundred percent certain that the days are calculated using a twenty-four-hour system? Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Maybe a 'day' is just the period between waking and sleeping."
Chang Xu's brow furrowed. He stated calmly, "But if the days *are* counted in twenty-four-hour increments, then they'll all die for leaving early."
Qi Si's eyes crinkled into a smile. "Ah, well, that's just bad luck for them. A fifty-fifty shot, and they bet wrong."
Chang Xu didn't understand. "You knew there was a problem with the time. Why didn't you say anything?"
"I was going to mention it at dinner, but Lu Li didn't exactly give me the opportunity," Qi Si said, lowering his gaze with a sigh. "I don't want to die, and I'm not enlightened enough to sacrifice myself for others. In a situation like this, one has to keep an escape route open."
"Let me ask you, Chang Xu," Qi Si continued. "If they knew there were two possible timekeeping methods, do you think they'd all just randomly pick one and risk their lives? Or would they choose a few unlucky bastards to test the waters first?"
The answer, of course, was the latter.
Chang Xu knew that if the other players were aware of this, they would likely act more cautiously. They'd probably pick four people to test the waters first.
And he, under a cloud of suspicion, along with the "controlled" Qi Si, would undoubtedly be among the guinea pigs.
"Now, don't tell me you're a utilitarian who believes those four lives are more important than ours," Qi Si quipped, coming to a halt before a stone tablet.
The altar wasn't as level as it appeared from a distance. Stepping onto the stone platform revealed an inner sanctum split into two tiers. A deep groove, about half a step wide, encircled a circular area that seemed to be the altar's core. The stone tablet stood crookedly at the edge of this trench, a line of strange characters carved into its center:
[THE DEAD STOP HERE]
The phrase felt like a sacred commandment, imbued with a natural, ancient gravity that compelled one to stop, to bow their head in solemn reverence.
Chang Xu raised his eyes and saw a towering white statue at the center of the altar. Three fish heads, packed tightly together, bared rows of fine, sharp teeth. Below where the heads joined was the scaled upper torso of a human, and from its waist sprouted countless tentacles, spreading outward in all directions with a bizarre, symmetrical beauty.
"Chang Xu, there should be another tablet in front of the statue, with instructions on how to clear the instance. Go over and follow them. And remember to find a white scepter and bring it back," Chang Xu heard the young man's calm, unhurried voice behind him.
A thread of unease wove itself into his thoughts. Chang Xu turned, half-facing the young man, and looked him straight in the eye. "Why don't you go?"
"The one who knows more should have some privileges, don't you think?" The voice was familiar, but the sense of strangeness was intensifying.
A flash of inspiration struck. Chang Xu's pupils constricted. "You can't cross, can you? 'The dead stop here.' You're one of 'the dead.' The Puppet Master's puppets... they would be classified as 'dead'..."
The answer was about to burst forth. "You're not Qi Si," he declared, his voice firm with conviction.
"It seems my performance is not yet credible enough to support my plans prior to deep infestation," the young man stated, his voice now a flat monotone. His vacant, unfocused eyes reflected nothing and no one.
He turned to face Chang Xu directly, but his right hand came to rest on Liu Yuhan's shoulder, pale fingers closing around her neck. "Let me rephrase this in a way your mind can comprehend. Chang Xu, bring me the Sea God's Scepter, and I'll release this girl and your friend."
Chang Xu's gaze hardened. He watched as the young man's eyes cleared for an instant, his tone shifting completely. "I see. So you're controlling me to force Chang Xu to get that thing for you."
"I'm guessing this 'Sea God's Scepter' is a powerful item that can be used instantly. That's why you couldn't just trick a random person into the altar and had to scheme like this... But did it ever occur to you that Chang Xu and I have only met twice? We barely know each other."
"A moderate deviation is within the margin of error. Even if you and Chang Xu were complete strangers, it would have no bearing on the outcome." The light vanished from the young man's eyes again, his expression turning into a blank mask.
He paused for a second before continuing in an analytical tone, "Chang Xu, you're an intuitive creature who operates on a simple code of justice. To you, a tangible human life is far more important than an abstract artifact. A teammate who's been through thick and thin with you, an innocent and oblivious bystander—you could never abandon them with a clear conscience."
The next second, the young man's voice changed again, refuting the first. "From a utilitarian standpoint, entrusting a powerful item to someone like you could lead to even greater casualties. A terrible loss. But I suppose an idiot might not consider that, so never mind..."
An utterly bizarre scene unfolded before Chang Xu's eyes—
The face of the once-handsome young man contorted, shifting between expressions. A smile became a terrifying grimace as he muttered quickly under his breath, like a lunatic in an asylum lost in conversation with himself. All the while, his right hand never left the girl's throat, its grip tightening with every passing moment.
Danger, madness, mania... These unsettling sensations, combined with Liu Yuhan's face—pale and ashen from suffocation, like a corpse—created a surreal sense of impending death.
Should he give in to the villain's coercion, trading the artifact for two lives at the risk of some greater, unknown consequence? Or should he sacrifice the two people in front of him to ensure the safety of many more?
If he refused, Qi Si and Liu Yuhan would certainly die. If he agreed, there might still be a chance to remedy the situation later...
After two seconds of silence, Chang Xu made his decision. He turned toward the center of the altar. "Let her go," he said. "I'll get the Sea God's Scepter."
Just as Chang Xu's figure vanished behind the stone tablet, Qi Si regained control of his body.
He smiled and sighed. "Does Lu Li know you'd sacrifice his life just to put up a smokescreen, to make everyone think the Puppet Master's influence was gone?"
In the crimson palace of his mind, two figures—one in black, one in red—stood facing each other amidst the roiling fog.
The black-robed figure, the manifestation of "Lu Li," faced Qi Si, its eyes reflecting nothing. "He became my puppet willingly," it said. "To deceive all of you, to lead you to bring Chang Xu to this altar... he died a worthy death."
"Is that so?" Qi Si, clad in a red suit, let out a cold laugh. "I can see you fancy yourself a master manipulator, a sage of the human heart."
"All that advance intelligence gathering, thoroughly researching this instance's mechanics, inserting three puppets to gain a numerical advantage and lay your cards on the table... A grand scheme built on such a mountain of information, and all of it aimed at a rookie like me, who's barely a full-fledged player. It's quite a joke."
"The 'Lu Li' persona tilted its head, feigning confusion. 'Even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit. And is not the volume of information a parameter in the calculation of intellect?'"[Note]
Qi Si laughed, a wild, uninhibited sound. "Well said. But have you ever considered that you rely far too much on information? The moment an information gap appears, your grand scheme becomes riddled with holes, ready to collapse at the slightest touch."
The "Lu Li" persona fell silent for two seconds before adjusting its gold-rimmed glasses. "I understand now. You're far more insane than I imagined. To uncover my plan, you were willing to gamble everything on a low-probability bet, throwing yourself right into the trap..."
Qi Si loosened the five fingers choking Liu Yuhan. His right hand fell away from her neck, dropping casually to his side. A grin stretched his lips, almost reaching his ears.
"Are you certain your Puppet Threads were wrapped around my little finger?"
The fog-filled palace of his mind began to tremble violently. The mist churned, coalescing one moment and scattering the next, its surface uneven and turbulent like a stormy sea.
The young man in red bent over, roaring with laughter as if he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
On the little finger of his right hand, the gleam of crystalline white bone flashed and vanished.
[Name: Evil God's Finger Bone]
[Type: Item]
[Effect: ...]
...
Far beyond any measurable distance, within a pitch-black, cubical space, a man in a black suit opened his eyes.
He sat reclined in a high-backed chair, his right hand gripping an exquisitely engraved identity card. The card's face depicted a figure in a white robe, nailed upside down to a black cross.
Before him lay a chessboard of black and white squares, covered with an array of bizarre idols of all sizes. There was one of the Sea God, one of Qi, and many others whose venerable names were unknown...
The man casually tossed the chess piece shaped like the Sea God's idol onto the floor. The white porcelain shattered on impact, its fragments quickly devoured by black smoke that billowed up from the ground.
"Intellect places him in the top tier. His actions are random and highly unpredictable. Willing to take extreme risks for uncertain gains..."
"Qi was willing to cheat to guarantee his victory, yet didn't give him the [Scarlet High Priest] card in the beginner's pool. At the same time, Qi couldn't pull him directly into the game..."
"The situation grows more bewildering."
The man's lips moved, his glasses glinting with a cold, white light.
He pinched a chess piece between two fingers—one carved in the image of a figure with red eyes and a red coat—moved it forward one square, and set it down.
..................
[Note] Intellect Formula: Intellect (Z) = Number of Participants (Y) * Accumulated Information (L) * Sagacity (H)