It didn't budge an inch.
"It won't open."
Steve released his hand and looked at the unchanged doorknob, lost in thought.
"It's not locked; it's stuck by the rules."
"Stuck?"
Number Two stepped forward. Seeing Steve's 'as expected' expression, the confusion in his heart grew even deeper.
"Aren't you afraid this is a trap?"
Number Two couldn't help but ask.
Steve turned his head to look at Number Two, a meaningful smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
"If it were a trap, I would have died the moment I grabbed the handle. Since I'm not dead, it means this is part of the game."
"Why don't you give it a try? Maybe it's just my bad luck, or perhaps my identity can't open this door?"
Steve stepped aside and made a gesture of invitation.
This was clearly a probe, or even a pitfall.
But Number Two looked at Steve, and after a moment of silence, he said in a relaxed tone,
"It's fine, I believe you. Since it won't open, it means the conditions for opening this door haven't been met yet, or the time hasn't come."
"Where this game wants us to go, the doors will open themselves without us pushing; where it doesn't want us to go, we won't get in even if we tear the door down."
"Heh."
Steve laughed.
"That makes sense."
He gave Number Two a deep, searching look.
"Then shall we try the others?"
"Alright."
Number Two nodded without any objection, turned around, and continued walking down the hallway.
Steve stood in place, watching Number Two's defenseless back. The smile that had been on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a somber and peculiar expression.
"Strange..."
"Too strange."
The doubt in Steve's heart grew like a rolling snowball.
"Why does this Number Two trust me so much?"
"If our previous cooperation was based on a balance of interests, then letting me test the door just now—and not even trying it himself, just believing me—completely violates the survival laws of this death game."
"He seems like a smart person, maybe even a schemer. How could someone like that actually believe the nonsense on that note about listening to everyone?"
"Unless..."
A flash of inspiration crossed Steve's mind, as if he had grasped a key clue.
"Unless something, or some fact, proved to him that what was written on that note is absolutely correct."
"He is contacting me, observing me, and verifying."
"So what exactly did I show that made him so certain?"
Steve's gaze locked onto Number Two's walking figure.
Watching the center of gravity as Number Two walked, the rhythm of his right hand subconsciously tapping against his trouser seam, the specific angle of his alert glance back when turning a corner...
A thought suddenly flashed through Steve's mind.
That sense of familiarity, that déjà vu as if looking into a mirror.
"So that's it! Identifying himself?"
The gloom on Steve's face instantly dissipated, replaced by the shock of a sudden realization.
"That's how it's proven..."
"No wonder he believes me, no wonder he follows me."
"Because that movement, that habit, that way of thinking—that is me."
Steve finally saw through the mist.
That woman in the red dress with the enchanting figure—the soul beneath that mask was clearly another Steve.
"Not just him..."
Steve's thoughts instantly scattered, recalling the performance of the others in the meeting room.
The burly man's reticence but sharp eyes, the old man's endurance, the young girl's feigned weakness...
"Though their appearances are varied, that calmness when facing the unknown, that instant analysis of pros and cons, that caution etched into their bones..."
"The seven people in this game are all freaking me!"
"Seven days, same day, seven Steves?"
Having figured it all out, Steve couldn't help but feel a hint of admiration for the designer of this SSS-rank Ghost Domain.
"This isn't a battle royale; this is clearly a supreme psychological game of killing oneself."
"If I were an ordinary person with only one life, facing this unknown situation, I would definitely be suspicious, defensive, and might even strike first to kill the other 'me's, falling into a death loop."
"But..."
Steve touched the burning heart of faith in his chest.
"In here, there is only one variable."
"And that is me, the one with the heart of faith."
"The other six 'me's are all ordinary Steves without cheats. They only have one life, so they must be cautious, they must probe, and they must proceed step by step."
"The reason Number Two didn't dare to force the door and why he wanted to follow me is because he saw my recklessness."
"From that 'me's' perspective, someone who can be so fearless in this death game and dare to risk themselves is definitely not a fool; they must have an absolute trump card."
"This ability to break the deadlock is exactly what the other six ordinary versions of Steve lack."
"He saw my uniqueness, so he chose to believe the note and chose to believe in me, the original body."
Having understood this layer, Steve felt as if everything had suddenly become clear.
"Since they're all me, this will be easy."
Steve's lips curled up as he stepped forward to follow.
At this moment, Number Two walking ahead seemed to sense Steve following him.
He didn't look back but deliberately slowed his pace, even purposely exposing his back completely to Steve's attack range as he passed a corner.
This was a signal.
An extremely subtle signal unique to Steves: I know who you are, and I know you know who I am.
Steve looked at that back and silently praised in his heart.
"Smart."
Neither of them broke the silence, but a wordless understanding was already flowing in the air.
This was the way of smart people; no words were needed, just a movement, a look.
Next.
The two of them advanced quickly down the hallway like partners who had cooperated for years.
Steve was responsible for being reckless, while Number Two was responsible for observing.
Door after door was tried, and time after time, they were refused.
Until they walked all the way to the end of this corridor.
This was the end of the hallway and the final door.
Whether in material or pattern, this door appeared exceptionally ancient and heavy.
The two stopped before the door, both stunned at the same time.
"This door..."
Steve narrowed his eyes, sizing it up carefully.
"Number Two, do you feel like this door looks familiar?"
He turned to look at Number Two.
Number Two nodded and said with certainty,
"Indeed. This door is almost identical to the first door we entered at the other end of the hallway."
"And..."
Number Two reached out a finger and pointed at the brass doorknob.
"Look at the position of this handle."
The door handle was not in its horizontal reset position; instead, it was angled halfway down, as if it had been pulled.
"I remember..."
Number Two's voice grew low.
"Just now, when I came out of the study and closed the door, I was in such a hurry to talk to you that the handle stayed in this position without fully springing back."
Steve's pupils contracted sharply.
"The position, the angle..."
The two exchanged a look, instantly understanding something.
"Axial symmetry."
"Spatial folding."
Without any nonsense, Steve stepped forward and gripped the door handle that was suspended halfway.
He took a deep breath.
"Open."
He gave it a sudden, forceful pull.
Click!
This time, there was no resistance. The lock clicked open, and the door swung wide.
A familiar scent of old books wafted toward them.
Steve and Number Two poked their heads in to look.
Inside the room, rows of tall bookshelves, a cluttered desk, and even the open County Gazetteer on the table were all in their original places.
"This is... the study?"
Steve was shocked.
"Isn't this the first room we entered at the other end of the corridor? How can it be here at the end of the hallway?"
It was as if you were at the two ends of a straight line, opened two different doors, yet walked into the exact same room.
"Quick."
Steve snapped his head toward Number Two.
"Go to the first door."
"Understood."
Number Two instantly grasped Steve's intention.
Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and sprinted back toward the starting point of the long corridor.
A few dozen seconds later.
Number Two's voice drifted back from the other end of the hallway, carrying a hint of excited breathlessness.
"I'm here! The door is open!"
"Good!"
Number Two shouted.
"I'm closing the door now, watch it!"
With that, Number Two grabbed the handle on his end and gave it a hard push.
Bang!
The door slammed shut.
At the exact moment the door on Number Two's end closed, Steve felt a strange counterforce from the handle in his hand, as if someone on the other side of the door had grabbed the handle simultaneously.
"How is it?"
Number Two yelled.
"Closed."
Steve's voice was filled with shock.
"The moment you closed your door, the door on my end closed automatically as well."
"It really is synchronized."
A sharp light flashed in Steve's eyes.
"Push it open!"
Steve commanded again, while simultaneously pushing his own door open with force.
Both doors opened at the same time.
Steve leaned out and looked toward the end of the corridor.
He saw Number Two also pushing his door open, leaning forward to look back at him.
"Now this is interesting..."
Number Two ran back quickly and stood beside Steve, clicking his tongue in wonder at the bizarre door.
"It seems the spatial structure of this building has properties similar to a Mobius strip or spatial folding. This corridor is an axis, and the rooms on either side are actually different projections of the same space."
"Whatever we do at this end is reflected at that end with zero delay."
"Correct."
Steve nodded, confirming Number Two's analysis.
"This corridor can be seen as an axially symmetric figure; both sides correspond to each other."
But then, his brow furrowed again.
"But..."
Steve looked down the deep, dark corridor, a new question rising in his mind.
"What is the point of this design? Besides proving that the space here is distorted, what is the actual purpose of this corridor?"
"Is it merely to trap us here?"
Number Two was also puzzled, clearly unable to figure out the key to it all.
He looked at the tightly shut door, then at the identical door at the end of the hallway, his brow locked in a frown.
"Number One, do you think this could be some kind of resource replenishment mechanism? Or perhaps a trap?"
Number Two asked in a low voice.
Steve didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted between the two doors while his mind rapidly constructed a model.
"We'll know if we try."
Steve spoke suddenly, and his subsequent actions made Number Two blink in surprise.
Steve fumbled around in the wide sleeve of his Daoist robe and actually pulled out a Cinnabar Brush.
Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist, and the brush accurately flew through the open doorway, landing on the carpet in the center of the room.
Clatter.
The sound of the brush hitting the floor was clearly audible.
Seeing Steve's action, Number Two instantly understood his intent.
He didn't say a word, but immediately turned and sprinted toward the first door at the other end of the corridor.
Steve followed close behind, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
They reached the first door—the entrance to the study from before.
The door was open.
Steve stood at the doorway, his gaze like a torch, looking directly at the carpet in the center of the room.
There, a vermilion brush lay quietly, its position and angle identical to the one Steve had just thrown in.
"As I thought..."
Steve stepped inside and bent down to pick up the brush from the floor.
Meanwhile, Number Two didn't stop; he ran back to the room at the end of the corridor once more.
A few seconds later, he ran back, also holding a Cinnabar Brush in his hand.
The two met in the middle of the corridor and held up their respective brushes.
They were identical.
Even the wear and tear on the brush handles were exactly the same.
"This room..."
Number Two looked at the brush in his hand, a flash of horror in his eyes.
"It's not just spatial folding; it also has the ability to duplicate? No, or rather, the two rooms connected by this corridor overlap on a rule-based level, yet matter can exist in both directions?"
"Now this is interesting."
Steve toyed with the brush in his hand, a meaningful smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
"If that's the case, the potential for utilizing this mechanism is enormous. Resource duplication? Or perhaps, creating an alibi?"
"By properly exploiting the time and space differences between these two rooms, one could even pull off a perfect locked-room murder."
Number Two nodded, his expression solemn.
"True. So what do we do now? We've pretty much explored the room's capabilities. Should we go in and search thoroughly for any hidden compartments?"
Steve shook his head and tucked the brush back into his sleeve.
"No need. Now that we know the mechanism, there's no point in going in now. We wait."
"Wait?"
Number Two was confused.
"Wait for someone to take the initiative to use this room, or see when the other tightly shut doors will open."
Steve's gaze swept across the doors on both sides of the corridor that remained deathly still and shut.
"Since this house is a game venue, it's impossible for there to be only this one mechanism. Let's not bite off more than we can chew; we'll check other places first."
"Alright."
Though Number Two still had doubts, he chose to follow Steve's suggestion.
"Then shall we go check the third floor? It was blocked off before; maybe there's some change now."
"Let's go."
The two reached a consensus and turned to walk towards the staircase leading to the third floor.
At this moment, the light inside the mansion seemed much dimmer than before.
As Steve passed the French window at the end of the second-floor corridor, he inadvertently glanced outside.
That glance made him stop abruptly.
"Wait."
Steve's voice was low.
"Look outside."
Number Two heard this, immediately leaned by the window, and looked out following Steve's gaze.
Outside the window, it should have been afternoon, with bright daylight.
But now, the sky showed an eerie dark purple, shadows were devouring the light from all directions, and the entire world seemed to have instantly entered dusk, even nearing night.
"This..."
Number Two's expression changed slightly.
"How long have we been in? At most an hour? How did it get dark so quickly?"
"The flow of time is different."
Steve's expression was calm, as if he had expected it.
"The time rules within a Ghost Domain are often independent. It seems a day in this world is not the 24 hours we know; perhaps it's only a few hours."
Number Two's heart tightened, and he turned to look at Steve.
"It's dark? Do you think someone will die today?"
Steve pondered for a moment, then shook his head.
"Probably not."
"The rules haven't been fully announced, and the clear conditions are to be discovered independently. If it started with a massacre, the game would be unplayable. The first day or two should be a safe period for players to explore the map and understand the mechanics."
"Of course."
Steve's tone shifted, his eyes deep.
"If players want to kill each other, that's another matter."
Number Two's heart skipped a beat, before he could fully grasp the meaning of that sentence.
Just then.
"Dong! Dong! Dong!"
A grand, muffled bell chime resounded throughout the entire mansion.
Immediately after, that cold, emotionless mechanical voice echoed in everyone's ears again.
[It's dark, please attend the meeting]
[First day of exploration has ended]
[All players, please proceed immediately to the Conference Room on the first floor to view yesterday's intelligence summary]
"So fast?"
Steve was slightly stunned; this so-called day, in terms of felt time, was probably less than two hours.
"Let's go, to the Conference Room."
The two didn't hesitate, abandoning their plan to go to the third floor, and turned to rush downstairs.
As they reached the first-floor hall, they happened to meet Number Four (in business attire) and Number Five (the old man) walking out from another corridor.
The two were walking side by side, conversing in low voices, and immediately fell silent upon seeing Steve and Number Two descend, their eyes filled with vigilance.
"It seems they've also formed an alliance."
Steve thought to himself.
This also confirmed his conjecture; it was indeed a game of self versus self.
Everyone was looking for allies, and everyone was guarding against betrayal.
The four nodded at each other as a greeting, then tacitly maintained their distance, rushing together towards the Conference Room in the annex outside the mansion.
Conference Room.
Pushing open the door, it was still that dilapidated, dim appearance.
Steve found a corner seat, a position from which he could observe the entire room.
Number Two naturally sat beside him.
Number Four and Number Five sat at the long table opposite.
A few minutes later, the door was pushed open again.
Number Six walked in expressionlessly.
He had some dust on him, looking like he had crawled through a tunnel. After entering, he didn't look at anyone, went straight to the most secluded corner, sat down, and closed his eyes to rest.
"Five people now."
Steve's eyes flickered slightly.
He was waiting, waiting for the remaining two people, Number Three and the fat man, Number Seven.
Earlier, at the second-floor window, he and Number Two had personally seen these two walk out the main door and go outside.
Time passed minute by minute.
Just when everyone was getting a little impatient.
"Tap, tap, tap."
A light sound of footsteps came from outside the door.
The door was pushed open, and a petite figure walked in.
It was Number Three, the girl in the sailor uniform.
But what made Steve's eyes narrow was that although Number Three had no bloodstains on her, her entire demeanor had undergone a drastic change.
Before, she would feign a delicate, fearful expression, and walked cautiously.
But now, her steps into the Conference Room were steady and strong, her eyes cold, and the confidence and composure of a top-tier expert were no longer hidden.
Steve was slightly stunned, 'Is she not planning to act anymore, Steve?'
She scanned the Conference Room, her gaze lingering on all the Steves for a moment, then casually pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Only one person?"
Number Two leaned close to Steve's ear, whispering in a voice only they could hear.
"Number Three is here, why isn't Number Seven? Weren't they together when they went out earlier?"
Steve didn't speak, just narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze fixed on Number Three.
"Could it be that Number Three has already killed Number Seven?"
Number Two's voice held a hint of chill.
"It's only the first day, and they're already making a move without even understanding the rules? So ruthless?"
"Observe first."
Steve replied calmly.
"Whether Number Seven is dead or not, we'll know when we see the screen later."
At this moment, the atmosphere in the Conference Room became extremely strange.
Number Four, the woman in business attire, finally couldn't hold back. She frowned, her gaze sweeping over Number Three, and asked coldly.
"Where's Number Seven? Why don't I see him?"
Her voice broke the silence, and everyone's eyes instantly focused on Number Three.
Facing the question, Number Three merely raised her eyelids indifferently, not even opening her mouth, completely ignoring Number Four's question.
"You."
Number Four was enraged by this attitude and was about to lash out but was pulled by the sleeve by Number Five, the old man beside her, who shook his head, signaling her not to be impulsive.
Fortress Command Center.
"Reporting, Chief!"
The analysis expert, who had been monitoring the screen, suddenly shouted.
"Data anomaly! Data anomaly!"
"Based on the behavioral pattern analysis just now, Director Steve, Number Three, has completely dropped his disguise."
On the screen, Number Three's few steps into the Conference Room were replayed repeatedly.
"The previous delicate girl's gait has completely disappeared, replaced by standard special tactical steps. This gait is exactly the same as Director Steve's original body's habit when in action."
"And..."
The analyst swallowed.
"According to micro-expression analysis, the look in his eyes when he entered and gazed at everyone was that of a predator. He was assessing the threat level of every person present."
"What does this indicate?"
Randy asked in a deep voice.
"It indicates that Director Steve, Number Seven, has most likely been killed."
The analyst gave his conclusion.
"He's no longer acting, because he feels there's no need to act anymore?"
Randy's brows furrowed upon hearing this, and he paced back and forth in front of the command console.
"These Steves are too complicated."
"Since they all figured out that the other person was themselves through behavioral analysis, why did no one choose to reveal the truth? Shouldn't they all have received that note to trust everyone?"
"Why don't they trust each other? Why are they fighting amongst themselves?"
Randy was utterly bewildered.
"Is this what they call being too clever for one's own good? Everyone thinks they are the only savior, and everyone else is a variable that must be eliminated?"
"What kind of game is this, anyway..."
Randy sighed, looking at the Steve on the screen who remained silent, his heart filled with worry.
Weird World, Conference Room.
Steve sat on the chair, his fingers lightly tapping the table.
His gaze swept across everyone, finally landing on Number Two beside him.
"This guy..."
Steve sneered inwardly.
Number Two's question just now, and the series of whispers he leaned in to make earlier, seemed like he was exchanging information, but in reality, he was probing.
"He's testing my reaction to this matter, and also testing whether I know the inside story."
"What's even more interesting is..."
Steve glanced at Number Two out of the corner of his eye.
"This guy, just like me, already saw that Number Three was acting strangely and deduced Number Seven's fate, but why didn't he point it out in public? Why did he remain silent?"
"I'm silent because I'm confident, but what about him?"
"Does he want to kill with a borrowed knife? Or does he want to reap the benefits?"
Steve turned, leaned closer to Number Two, and whispered.
"It seems these people all have something off about their minds. After the meeting, how about we two go 'greet' Number Three privately?"
Upon hearing this, Number Two's eyes behind the mask lit up slightly, then he nodded.
"Alright."
Actually, Number Two's original idea was to directly raise this question at the meeting, using everyone's panic and suspicion to direct all the blame towards Number Three, and eliminate this unstable factor with the help of the others.
But Number One Steve's suggestion made him change his mind.
"Why does Number One want to resolve it privately?"
Number Two looked at Steve, quickly analyzing in his mind.
"This doesn't fit my usual style, unless Number One is absolutely confident he can suppress Number Three? Or perhaps, he wants to find out something from Number Three?"
"This Number One is indeed the most special."
Number Two remembered the note, and the scales in his heart tilted again.
"He has a trump card, and it's a trump card that will absolutely protect himself."
Number Two understood the key point.
"He's not afraid of Number Three suddenly lashing out and killing, because he knows he won't die. On the contrary, he wants to know why Number Three kills."
"Because in this game with unclear rules, killing might also be a condition for clearing the game?"
"And Number Three is also Steve. Everything Steve does is purposeful. If someone was killed, then what was the purpose of the killing?"
"He's seeking verification."
Having understood this, Number Two's evaluation of Steve rose again.
"As expected of the game-breaker I picked."
Just as the two privately reached an agreement.
Number Four and Number Five opposite them clearly couldn't sit still.
"Hey!"
Number Four spoke again, a hint of impatience in her tone.
"What exactly happened to Number Seven? If we don't figure it out, how can we proceed?"
"Could it be that he's really dead?"
At these words, Number Six, who had been resting with his eyes closed, also opened his eyes.
"How is that possible? The game has only just begun less than two hours ago, and someone has already died so quickly?"
The atmosphere in the Conference Room instantly dropped to freezing point.
Everyone realized the seriousness of the problem; death had begun, and it was among them.
Steve and Number Two exchanged glances, both seeing the amusement in each other's eyes.
"You two, you don't seem very surprised, do you?"
Number Four keenly noticed Steve and Number Two's calmness, and immediately turned her aggressive tone towards them.
"Could it be... you know some clues?"
"Heh heh."
Steve chuckled lightly, his tone calm.
"This beautiful lady is joking. Number Two and I have been in the study on the second floor looking at material the data, we haven't even gone downstairs. How could we know what happened outside?"
"Indeed."
Number Two also chimed in appropriately, her voice charming.
"We've been together the whole time, we can vouch for each other. As for you, I heard you stayed in the lobby on the first floor for a long time. Didn't you see Number Seven either?"
This light remark instantly kicked the ball back, and also sowed a seed of doubt in everyone's hearts.
Number Four's face froze, just as she was about to retort.
Beep!
The huge display screen on the wall suddenly emitted a short flash.
Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to it.
The numbers on the screen changed without warning.
[Total Players: 6]
[Deaths Yesterday: 1]
[Players Cleared:]
"Dead..."
Number Four's eyes widened, her voice filled with unconcealed astonishment.
"Number Seven... is really dead."
The atmosphere in the Conference Room instantly dropped to freezing point.
If before it was just speculation, now, the system's cold numbers had pronounced Number Seven's death sentence.
It was only the first day, and in this Ghost Domain with no rule prompts, there had already been a reduction in personnel.
Steve and Number Two exchanged glances, both instinctively looking at Number Three, who was sitting not far away.
However, facing the system's confirmed death notice and everyone's gaze, the girl in the sailor uniform, Number Three, showed no trace of panic or fear on her face.
She just sat there quietly, her eyes as cold as ice, even carrying a hint of imperceptible mockery.
"This guy..."
Steve looked at Number Three's expression, a slight doubt arising in his heart.
"This reaction doesn't seem like feigned callousness; she genuinely doesn't seem to think Number Seven's death has anything to do with her?"
Just as everyone harbored their own thoughts and the atmosphere in the Conference Room was tense.
"Ding dong."
A cheerful chime came from the loudspeaker on the ceiling, completely out of place with the oppressive atmosphere.
[Night ends]
[A new day has begun. All players, please explore on your own.]
Hearing the prompt, Number Three stood up without hesitation, the first to do so. She decisively pushed open the Conference Room door and strode out.
Number Four (the woman in business attire) and Number Five (the old man) exchanged glances. The two seemed to have reached some unspoken agreement, and also stood up, leaving the Conference Room right after her.
Steve remained in his seat, his gaze turning to the window.
Through the dusty glass, he noticed that the dark purple sky outside had faded at some point, replaced by a hazy, grayish-white light.
"It seems the flow of time in this Ghost Domain is indeed much faster."
Steve thought to himself.
"Just the time it took for one meeting, and what they call 'one night' has already passed directly."
At this moment, Number Six, who had been resting with his eyes closed, also stood up.
He straightened his slightly disheveled clothes and strode towards the door.
As he reached the door, he suddenly stopped, turned his head slightly, and looked intently at Steve, who was still deep in thought in his seat.
Steve keenly noticed his gaze, raised his head, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth under his mask, and nodded slightly in response.
However, Number Six merely glanced at it indifferently, made no comment, and turned to walk out the door.
"This Number Six is also quite strange."
Number Two, who had been sitting next to Steve, took in all of Number Six's actions and couldn't help but stroke his chin, lost in thought.
"In this situation where everyone is acting like a fool, why did he choose to go it alone? Was it arrogance, or did he possess some crucial information that we don't know about?"
Steve looked at the empty conference room, stood up, and stretched.
"Let's go."
Steve glanced at Number Two.
"Let's go meet that Number Three. You've sensed it too, haven't you? This matter isn't as simple as it seems. I feel that Number Three is very suspicious."
"good".
Number Two stood up as well, his voice behind the mask carrying a hint of inquiry.
"This number three seems like a completely different person. She was so cautious in the lobby before, but now she's showing her sharp edge. Let's go ask her."
The two walked out of the Conference Room, one after the other.
Outside the old house, in a courtyard shrouded in mist.
Outside, the grayish-white mist still enveloped the surroundings.
Numbers 4 and 5 have disappeared; they've probably gone to explore other parts of the mansion.
Number Three was standing alone in front of a dried-up fountain in the courtyard, quietly observing his surroundings, as if searching for something.
Hearing footsteps behind him, Number Three did not turn around.
Steve and Number Two walked straight up behind her and stopped.
"Number Three".
Steve lowered his voice and asked directly in the hoarse voice characteristic of an old Taoist priest.
How did Number Seven die?
Number Three slowly turned around.
She looked at the old man and the young woman in front of her, the Taoist priest and the woman in the red dress, and a mocking smile appeared on her lips.
"I have no idea".
She answered calmly.
"have no idea?"
Upon hearing this, Number Two immediately sneered, his tone aggressive.
"We saw you and Number Seven walk out the door together yesterday. Now you're back unharmed, but he's dead. You didn't even bring back his body. Doesn't saying you don't know anything prove anything?"
Faced with Number Two's questioning, Number Three not only did not panic, but his smile became even wider.
"Yes, since you all know that I went out with Number Seven..."
Number Three crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Steve and Number Two, his tone tinged with amusement.
"Then why didn't you bring it up in the Conference Room in front of everyone? Why wait until everyone left before coming here to stop me?"
He paused, his eyes sharpening.
"It seems I hold some secret you're looking for, don't you?"
Upon hearing this, Number Two felt a chill run down his spine.
"Indeed, dealing with my own intelligence is troublesome."
Number Two thought to himself.
"They can react immediately to the slightest hint and take the initiative."
Steve looked at Number Three, ignoring her question, and directly asked the core question.
"What was your motive for killing? Was it related to clearing the game?"
Upon hearing this question, Number Three suddenly paused for a moment.
Then, as if she had heard the funniest joke, she started laughing out loud.
"kill?"
Number Three stopped laughing, his eyes suddenly turning extremely cold as he stared intently at Steve.
"If I said I didn't kill Number Seven, would you believe me?"
After saying that, she ignored the two people who were still standing there, turned around and walked into the mist deep in the courtyard, leaving only her back view.
Steve and Number Two stood there, watching Number Three's receding figure, lost in deep thought.
"How much of what she said do you think is true?"
Number Two couldn't help but ask.
"I can't tell."
Steve shook his head, his brows furrowed tightly beneath his mask.
He's really feeling overwhelmed right now.
Playing a game against yourself is even more painful than fighting a group of high-level monsters.
We all think the same way; if you try to test him, he can instantly test you in return.
You simply don't know which of the other person's words are true and which are false.
And in the distant mist.
Steve, who had already walked away, felt the two pairs of eyes that had been staring at him intently disappear. His originally indifferent face showed a deep sense of doubt and seriousness.
"These two were clearly testing me just now."
Number Three secretly made his own plans.
"They asked me about the connection between my motives for killing and clearing the game. It seems that they still don't know what the real conditions for clearing this dungeon are."
"So, why did Number Seven suddenly try to kill me back then?"
"And that note..."
In Number Three's mind, a note he had seen on that platform at the start of the game came to mind.
The contents of that note were completely different from what Steve had seen.
My name is Steve.
[By the time you read this letter, I will already be dead...]
Don't trust anyone! Especially...
"I am already dead, don't trust anyone..."
Number Three muttered to himself.
"What exactly does this note mean? Could it be that one of these seven people..."
Number Three did not say these words aloud.
If Steve and Number Two, who were following behind, heard this heartfelt message, they would be absolutely shocked.
The hints that each person receives at the start of the game are different.
Meanwhile, Fortress Command Center.
"Reporting to the commander."
In front of a supercomputer, an analyst stood up, sweating profusely, holding a freshly printed thermal report.
" As for Director Steve, the results have been analyzed."
Randy, who had been staring at the big screen, suddenly turned his head and asked urgently.
"So? Did Number Three lie?"
"Reporting to the commander, based on our deep AI analysis model comparing Director Steve's behavioral habits, micro-expressions, and voiceprint fluctuations over tens of thousands of hours..."
The expert swallowed hard and read out the conclusion aloud.
" Director Steve just said that if I said I didn't kill Number Seven, the rate of falsification in his physiological and psychological characteristics would be 0.4%."
"What?"
Upon hearing this, Randy gasped in shock.
An adulteration rate of 0.4% is almost equivalent to absolute truth in behavioral psychology.
"Number Three wasn't lying?"
Randy's brain was working at lightning speed.
"If Number Three didn't kill Number Seven, then the one who killed Number Seven must have been someone else."
"Now Steve is with Number Two, Number Four is with Number Five, and Number Three has been cleared of suspicion. So now, the only one with the time and motive to commit the crime is Number Six, who has always been alone."
However, new questions arose one after another.
"That's not right..."
Randy frowned.
"Number Three and Number Seven went out together. If Number Seven was killed by Number Six, why did Number Three return unharmed? Did Number Three and Number Six make some kind of deal to trick Number Seven? Or did Number Seven trigger some kind of Ghost Domain's 'inevitable death rule'?"
"Quickly, get all the computing power groups together to analyze and list out all the possibilities."
Randy roared at the command center.
"Yes, sir!"
Everyone immediately obeyed, and the sound of keyboards clicking filled the air.
Just as the Command Center was extremely busy.
Muriel, who had been standing quietly in front of the big screen, suddenly changed her expression.
"Hmm..."
She suddenly clutched her chest, a look of pain and panic appearing on her beautiful face.
She staggered forward two steps, gripping the edge of the control panel tightly with both hands, her eyes fixed on Steve's perspective on the screen.
"Steve..."
Muriel's voice trembled slightly.
Upon hearing the noise, Randy immediately turned around, quickly walked to Muriel's side, and asked with concern.
" Murie, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? What Steve..."
"Steve's things are lost."
Muriel clutched her chest, her heterochromatic eyes filled with anxiety and unease.
"I don't know how to describe it, but my heart of the angel just felt an extremely special power of rules forcibly pulling something out of the depths of Steve's soul."
"Now, that thing has been completely removed."
Randy was stunned for a moment, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
"Extraction? What was extracted? What the hell is this Ghost Domain that can directly affect the soul?"
As Muriel watched Steve on the screen, still discussing countermeasures with Number Two, her unease grew stronger, as if Steve would disappear forever in the next second.
"no".
Muriel suddenly turned around, and the uncontrollable phantom image of eight wings of light and darkness appeared behind her.
"I'm going to save Steve."
After saying that, she transformed into a streak of light and was about to rush out of the Command Center.
" Murie, are you crazy?"
Randy was shocked and quickly stepped in front of her, pressing his hands firmly against her shoulders.
"When Steve went into that Ghost Domain, he was suppressed to a blank state. It was a place of rules that transcended conventional understanding. Moreover, it was surrounded by a huge Ghost Domain where time and space were frozen. All creatures that entered were instantly frozen in place."
"What's the point of you going now? You'll just be throwing your life away."
"Let me go."
Muriel's usual docility had vanished, replaced by a stubbornness in her eyes.
"I have to go. I can feel that if I don't go, Steve will never be able to get out."
"I don't care about time standing still, I have the heart of the angel, I can find him."
After saying that, Muriel unleashed a powerful holy light that directly blasted Randy away.
She rushed out of the Command Center without hesitation, transforming into a dazzling aurora, and sped towards the Portal of Weird World.
Watching Muriel's departing figure, Randy was so shocked that he took a few steps back, a bitter smile on his face.
"This girl has a really strong personality."
Randy knew that with his current strength, he was no match for Muriel, who had already reached the seventh rank.
"Never mind, let her be."
Randy sighed, but didn't feel too desperate.
"Fortunately, the global phenomenon was just a time-freezing Ghost Domain. At most, she would be frozen in place if she went in, but her life would not be in danger."
"May her heart of the angel work a miracle."
Randy shook his head and fixed his gaze on the big screen again.
Weird World, at the gate of the old house.
Steve and Number Two walked side by side to the open vermilion gate, gazing at the gray, endless city outside.
"This world is quite strange."
Number Two crossed his arms and looked at the towering buildings that were faintly visible outside, his tone tinged with a hint of mockery.
"The house behind us is antique, like an old Ming or Qing dynasty artifact, but outside, it's a modern city scene. The contrast is too stark, isn't it?"
"The outside world is so vast, and the fog is so thick. If we try to find Number Seven's body, it'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
Upon hearing what sounded like a complaint from Number Two, Steve stopped, turned around, and looked at him coldly from behind his mask.
"Alright, stop pretending."
Steve bluntly exposed his lie.
"Now that everyone has figured out who we are and what we're here for, why are you still asking such stupid questions like looking for a corpse?"
Upon hearing this, Number Two couldn't help but let a smug smile curl up at the corner of his mouth beneath his mask.
"As expected, I couldn't hide it from myself."
Number Two thought to himself.
"However, this just proves that my mind is still working perfectly."
He shrugged, his tone becoming serious.
"That's true, the corpse is meaningless, but I still want to ask, are there really any clues to passing through here?"
"Of course."
Steve spoke with certainty.
"If there are no clues to pass through outside, why would Number Three kill Number Seven?"
"Based on our understanding of ourselves, without an absolute purpose, we would never rashly kill someone of equal strength in this place where the rules are unclear."
"Number Three must have seen some crucial clue that we don't know about, or triggered some hidden mechanism that requires killing to complete, which is why he attacked Number Seven."
Steve pointed to the mist outside the door.
"Moreover, Number Three and Number Seven went straight to the outer area as soon as they left. It's hard to say that one of them didn't know some information in advance. Otherwise, since everyone here is a newbie, why would they dare to rush out so recklessly?"
"The key to breaking the deadlock must be hidden outside."
Upon hearing Steve's meticulous analysis, Number Two paused slightly.
He didn't reply immediately, but instead looked at Steve with an extremely complex expression, peering deeply through his mask.
"He... didn't know?"
Number Two screamed wildly in his heart, stirring up a storm.
"What does he mean by that? He actually deduced it from the actions of Number Three?"
"Could it be that he arrived later than me? Or... is the amount of information each person receives at the start completely different?"
Number Two hadn't expected that Number One, who seemed to be in complete control, was actually an information blind spot.
"Since he doesn't know, then I can't expose myself."
Number Two made up his mind instantly.
In this deadly game where casualties have already begun, intelligence is life itself.
He would never reveal his trump card to any of himself before he had a complete understanding of the conditions for passing the level.
That makes sense.
Number Two nodded calmly, his tone revealing no weakness, as if he had truly been persuaded by Steve.
However, Steve was an extremely perceptive person.
In the half-second that Number Two was stunned, Steve caught a subtle fluctuation in Number Two's emotions.
"Was he shocked just now?"
Steve sneered inwardly.
"Sure enough, this number two does know some inside information that I don't know, and he's hiding it."
Since no one is telling the truth, we have no choice but to resort to underhanded tactics.
"We need to find a way to get this guy to talk or get him to say something."
Steve turned around without making a sound and stepped out of the door first.
"Let's go."
His deep voice echoed in the gray mist, and the hem of his blue Taoist robe fluttered gently in the cold breeze.
The alluring figure in the red dress followed closely behind, and the two of them stepped into this unknown world, one after the other.
However, just a dozen steps after Steve stepped out of the old house, his steps suddenly stopped without warning.
Steve stood frozen in place like a statue, his eyes slightly narrowed beneath his mask, revealing an extremely solemn expression.
"What's wrong?"
Upon seeing this, Number Two, who was following behind, immediately stopped and instinctively assumed a defensive stance. His right hand had already silently reached for his waist, and his tone carried a hint of vigilance and inquiry.
"What have you found?"
Steve did not answer immediately; he stood there, his brows furrowed.
Just a moment ago, he clearly felt a very faint, yet absolutely undeniable, sense of something amiss.
This feeling did not come from an external physical threat, but rather from the depths of his soul.
The moment he stepped out of the gate and officially left the old house, he felt a very subtle tremor.
"Something seems off..."
Steve turned his head, his gaze hidden behind his mask fixed on Number Two beside him, his voice low.
"Didn't you feel it?"
Upon hearing this, Number Two's brows furrowed slightly beneath his mask.
He closed his eyes, trying to catch the feeling that Steve was talking about.
A moment later, Number Two opened his eyes and shook his head in confusion.
"No".
Number Two spoke very frankly, because there was no point in lying about such intuitive questions when facing fellow Steves.
"I didn't feel anything, not the airflow, or even any sense of danger. I felt that everything outside was normal except for the thick fog."
Upon hearing Number Two's confident answer, Steve's pupils contracted slightly.
"Didn't he notice?"
Steve's heart was instantly filled with turmoil, but he remained calm on the surface.
His brain began to work at an extraordinary speed, deducing and analyzing.
"Since he is also Steve, he has the same soul origin, the same way of thinking, and the same keen intuition as me."
"If there really is some kind of hidden rule suppression or spatial distortion in the outside world, I can detect it, and he has no reason not to."
"But he insisted that he didn't."
What does this tell us?
Steve took a deep breath and slowly turned his gaze to the gray-white sky.
"This means that the strange feeling I just experienced was not detected by my own perception ability, but because I have something in my body that he doesn't have."
" heart of faith ".
Steve finally understood.
In this bizarre seven-day-on-one instance, all players are clones, stripped of their external characteristics, becoming Steve.
Their starting point, IQ, and thinking logic are absolutely equal.
This means that this is a competition without any cheat codes, a pure contest of brainpower and strategy.
However, the mastermind behind creating this SSS-level Ghost Domain overlooked one crucial detail.
He can perfectly replicate Steve's soul, Steve's memories, Steve's abilities and personality, but he can never replicate that heart of faith that doesn't belong to this world and even transcends the concept of gods.
This heart is the only variable that Steve's original body has just merged with in the outside world.
"Because they lack heart of faith, their senses are perfectly shielded by the rules of this world. As for me, because of the existence of heart of faith, the rules of this world have a slight rejection and aversion to me, which is why I felt something was wrong."
It was a strange feeling, but also incredibly wonderful.
In this deadlock where everyone is a cunning schemer and everyone is suspicious of each other, he finally realized that he held an ace in his hand that no one else could possibly have, or even have imagined.
"This is not only my trump card for survival, but also my key to breaking this seven-day impasse."
Number Two watched as Number One stood there, looking up at the gray sky. Although Number One's expression was hidden behind the mask, Number Two could keenly sense that Number One's aura had become extremely deep and unpredictable in that instant.
This was the first time he had seen Number One in such a heavy state since he entered the game.
"What did you find? Are you really alright?"
Number Two couldn't help but try to probe again.
"call..."
Steve withdrew his gaze, perfectly concealing all his thoughts beneath the white mask.
He turned his head, looked at Number Two, and shook his head slightly.
"It's nothing, it's probably just my imagination. Let's go and keep going."
Having said that, Steve didn't linger. He took the lead and his figure gradually blended into the thick fog.
Number Two stood still, watching Steve's back as if nothing had happened, his eyes flickering uncertainly beneath the mask.
"Illusion? I don't believe you for a second."
Number Two snorted coldly in his heart.
"As a fellow Steve, when have you ever had such a thing as a delusion? You must have discovered some extremely crucial clue, but you don't want to tell me."
"But it doesn't matter. As long as I stick to you, you'll eventually slip up."
Number Two suppressed his suspicions and quickly followed.
And so, each with their own ulterior motives, the two headed towards the city deep within the mist.
Meanwhile, in the main hall of the old house shortly after the two left.
Number Four and Number Five stood side by side in the shadows of the hall, coldly watching Steve and Number Two disappear into the mist through the gap in the door that was not yet fully closed.
The hall was deathly silent.
"Number One and Number Two went outside together."
Number Four broke the silence first. Her voice was cold and sharp, with a hint of feminine sharpness, but the logic in her tone was exceptionally meticulous.
Do you think either of them will die out there?
The old man, number five, with his hunched back, let out a sinister sneer upon hearing this.
"Hehe, I don't know, but these two people definitely have more information than we do."
Did you notice?
A shrewd glint flashed in Number Five's cloudy eyes.
"When we were in the Conference Room, Number One and Number Two were whispering in the corner. As soon as the meeting ended, they tacitly blocked Number Three's way."
"It seems they've figured out some tricks about the rules of the game, or about the death of Number Seven."
Number Four nodded, crossed his arms, and frowned.
"That's certainly possible, but what's giving me the biggest headache is, who killed Number Seven?"
"We've always been together, and we each have an alibi. Number One and Number Two are also inseparable. If they make any moves, they'll definitely know each other."
"So... the remaining targets can only be Number Six, who has always been a loner, and Number Three."
The old man number five waved his hand dismissively and said indifferently.
"Don't worry about that. Who killed him isn't important. Remember that screen?"
[Number of people who passed through customs: 0]
"The number of people who passed the level is 0, which means that even after the murderer killed number seven yesterday, the conditions for passing the level were still not met."
Number Five's eyes turned extremely cold, revealing a cruel disregard for life.
"Since he has already started killing, it means that he believes that killing is one of the conditions for passing the level, or at least a way to obtain clues. Since he has not passed the level, he will definitely kill again."
"What we need to do now is wait."
"When he shows his true colors again, as long as he dares to make another move, we can reap the benefits."
Number Four's eyes lit up after hearing this, and he nodded in agreement.
"That makes sense. The enemy is in the open while we are in the dark. We just need to stick together and watch them fight like dogs."
Just as the two in the lobby thought they had the situation under control...
They did not discover it on the third floor of the old house.
At the end of the dimly lit corridor, behind the tightly closed carved door, stood a tall, slender figure.
The man was neither wearing a mask nor a black robe.
If anyone else were standing here at this moment, they would be shocked to discover that this figure looks exactly like Steve in the real world.
His face was stern, his gaze deep and unfathomable. He looked down at everything happening in the courtyard through the dusty window at the end of the corridor.
He watched Steve and Number Two walk out the door, and watched Number Four and Number Five whispering behind the door.
A cold glint suddenly flashed across that face that was exactly the same as Steve's.
He slowly turned around, his back to the gray world outside the window, and walked step by step into the deeper darkness of the third-floor corridor.
"Soon..."
His deep, hoarse voice echoed in the empty third floor, carrying an indescribable madness.
"These idiots are still playing games of suspicion down there..."
"Just one more, just one more, and I can leave..."
As his words fell, his figure completely melted into the darkness of the third floor, as if he had never existed.
A city shrouded in mist, its streets.
Steve and Number Two walked side by side through the deserted ruins of this modern city.
The surrounding buildings towered into the clouds, but without exception, all the windows were broken and the walls were covered with dark gray ivy.
Rusty cars were parked haphazardly on the road, but there was not a single body or a trace of blood.
The city seemed to have been instantly drained of all its vitality by some force, leaving only a huge empty shell.
Where are we going?
Number Two looked around warily as he asked the question.
Where do you want to go?
Steve didn't answer directly, but instead asked a question in return.
At this moment, Steve understood everything perfectly.
Since we are all Steve, our ways of thinking about problems must be extremely similar.
Given this completely clueless start, where would you choose to investigate if you were in that situation?
"The places I want to go are, to a large extent, the other places I would choose."
Sure enough, Number Two only hesitated for a moment before raising his hand and pointing in a certain direction deep in the mist.
"Where shall we go?"
Number Two's voice carried a hint of certainty.
"Look at those buildings; they seem a bit out of place among these modern skyscrapers."
Steve looked in the direction of the second finger.
Hidden by the thick fog, a towering white spire stood several hundred meters ahead.
It was an extremely magnificent white church.
Unlike the surrounding drab, dilapidated modern buildings.
The church is built entirely of pure white stone, and the walls are carved with intricate reliefs.
In this desolate, empty city, the sudden appearance of a church symbolizing redemption and holiness creates a striking visual contrast that serves as an extremely eye-catching clue.
"It's quite unusual that there's a church like this in the city."
Steve nodded.
If he were exploring alone, this place would definitely be his first choice.
"Let's go take a look."
The two reached a consensus and immediately quickened their pace, heading straight for the white church.
As we walked, the surroundings remained deathly silent, without even the slightest sound of wind.
"Is there nobody here?"
Number Two walked down the church steps, looked around, and frowned under his mask.
"This is like a ghost town abandoned by the world. Is there not even a single NPC or monster in this Ghost Domain, besides us few players?"
"It's not that simple; something fishy must be going on."
Steve stood on the high steps, looking up at the two tightly closed white carved doors.
"Let's go in and see what kind of monsters and demons are hiding inside."
As he spoke, Steve stepped forward, placed his hands on the heavy door, and pushed it hard.
Unexpectedly, the door was not locked, and with Steve's effort, it opened very smoothly inward.
The two walked into the church side by side.
The moment they stepped inside, the sight that greeted them made them both pause for a moment.
In stark contrast to the gloomy, dilapidated, apocalyptic scene outside, the interior of this church was remarkably clean.
Rows of spotless solid wood benches and a marble floor as smooth as a mirror.