Matryoshka
There was no dust here, no spiderwebs, as if someone devoutly cleaned the place every day.
However, within this eerie tidiness, a scene appeared that utterly shattered the sense of harmony.
On a white wall to the left of the cathedral hall, a large area of extremely chaotic and violent marks of destruction was clearly visible.
It was a wall that should have originally been painted with some kind of mural or inscribed with text.
But now, the wall looked as if it had been frantically hacked with sharp weapons and brutally smashed with heavy hammers. Stone chips littered the floor, and whatever content might have originally been on the wall had been destroyed beyond recognition; not even a single complete character could be discerned.
"Look over there."
Steve and Number Two exchanged glances and reacted instantly. Their figures moved like lightning as they immediately rushed towards the ruined wall.
Steve reached out, gently stroking the scratches that were several inches deep and the broken stone edges on the wall.
He closed his eyes to feel it for a moment.
"This wall looks like it was forcibly destroyed not long ago."
Steve snapped his eyes open, his voice low and certain.
"The stone dust hasn't fully settled yet, and the cracks at the edges are still fresh."
Number Two's expression instantly became extremely grave. Standing beside Steve, he stared fixedly at the ruinous wall.
"Someone doesn't want us to know what clues were originally left on this wall."
There was a chill in Number Two's voice. His mind raced, immediately locking onto the suspects.
"It's those two, Number Three and Number Seven. They headed straight out yesterday; they must have arrived at this cathedral first and discovered some extremely critical secret to clearing the stage on this wall."
"Then, to prevent later players from seeing it, they directly took action to completely destroy the clues."
Listening to Number Two's analysis, Steve couldn't help but nod inwardly.
"Correct."
Steve sighed in his heart.
"The degree to which this wall was destroyed, this ruthless and decisive method—leaving not a single image, not a single word for others to see—it truly fits my style of doing things perfectly."
If Steve himself had been the first to discover an exclusive clue for clearing the stage, he would also have destroyed all traces of it without hesitation, leaving all latecomers blind.
"Since the clues on the wall are gone, where did they go after seeing them?"
Steve stood up, brushed the stone dust off his hands, and looked deep into the cathedral hall toward the white corridor leading to the back hall.
"Let's go, let's take a look inside. There should be other things in here."
Steve analyzed calmly.
"Number Three and Number Seven came out together yesterday, but during this morning's meeting, Number Seven didn't show up, and there was an announcement of a death. If nothing unexpected happened, it's very likely that Number Seven died right here in this cathedral."
Hearing this, the gaze behind Number Two's mask sharpened, and he nodded heavily.
The two of them ignored the destroyed wall and, maintaining a high state of vigilance, walked step by step deeper into the cathedral along the white corridor.
Several doors were distributed along both sides of the corridor, most of them tightly shut.
When they reached the middle of the corridor, Steve's footsteps suddenly stopped.
He keenly spotted a wooden door on the front left that was slightly ajar, with a faint, dim light leaking through the crack.
Steve and Number Two exchanged a look. With great unspoken understanding, they slowed their breathing and crept up to the door, one on each side, hugging the walls silently.
Steve extended two fingers, pressed them lightly against the door panel, and suddenly pushed hard.
BANG!
The door swung wide open.
The two instantly dropped into combat stances, their eyes scanning everything in the room.
No monsters, no ambush.
This was a Study that looked like it was used by the clergy.
But when the two saw the scene inside the room, they both froze.
"This..."
Number Two lowered the dagger in his hand, looking at the scene before him and sucking in a breath of cold air.
The interior of this Study could only be described as a complete mess.
A massive solid wood desk had been brutally split in half from the middle by some terrifying, monstrous force, with wood splinters flying everywhere.
Several tall bookshelves had collapsed onto the floor, and books and parchment were scattered everywhere like leaves in the autumn wind.
There were even several deep gouges on the walls, looking like they were left by some sharp weapon.
Compared to the tidiness of the cathedral hall outside, this place looked as if it had just been ravaged by a typhoon—or rather, as if it had undergone a gruesome life-and-death struggle.
Steve didn't speak. He stepped into the chaotic ruins, his eyes scanning every detail.
Number Two followed him in, looking around with a furrowed brow as he analyzed in a low voice.
"The cathedral outside is as clean as new, yet this Study alone is a mess. There are only two possibilities for this."
Number Two held up two fingers.
"First, Number Three and Number Seven had a fierce fight here while fighting over something, leading to this wretched state."
"Second, someone deliberately arranged this place after killing the other, wanting to cover something up or prevent us from finding the true clues."
Hearing Number Two's analysis, Steve stood in the center of the room, but a deeper level of mental sparring had begun in his heart.
"Since everyone is Steve, that means the person who arranged all this—whether it's Number Three or Number Seven—his IQ and logical thinking are exactly the same as ours right now."
Steve's gaze fell on a torn book as his brain frantically deduced.
"There are indeed some extremely realistic signs of a fight here, but the collapsed bookshelves and these books scattered somewhat deliberately do indeed look like a disguise intentionally set up afterward."
"But."
Steve suddenly caught a blind spot.
"Since he is me, he would definitely realize that as latecomers, we would also be able to see through this artificial disguise at a glance."
"Knowing clearly that it would be seen through as a disguise, he did it anyway."
"This means that the act of arranging this messy scene itself is exactly what he wanted us to see."
"He did it to attract the attention of us latecomers."
Steve paced back and forth in the Study. Although the thousand-man Think Tank wasn't there, his brain, tempered by countless life-and-death trials, was working at its limit.
Still, it would be nice if the Think Tank were here; he could use others' ways of thinking to analyze his own behavior.
Number Two watched Steve pacing, his own brow also furrowed in confusion.
"This is literally a matryoshka doll."
Number Two cursed inwardly.
"The opponent is someone with the same thinking pattern as yourself. Any possibility you can guess might be a trap deliberately set by the opponent after they predicted your prediction."
Synchronization
Steve suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the clean, tidy white corridor outside the door.
"Number Two, did you notice?"
Steve pointed outside the door, his tone low.
"In the corridor outside, there isn't a single drop of blood, nor are there any traces of a body being dragged."
"If the killer murdered Number Seven here, given his cautious personality, he definitely wouldn't have the leisure to risk transporting and hiding a heavy corpse so far away."
"Then the reasonable inference is that if this is the primary crime scene of the struggle, Number Seven's corpse should absolutely be hidden near this Study."
Number Two's eyes lit up upon hearing Steve's analysis, but then he fell into even deeper doubt.
"Do you think..."
Number Two looked at the mess all over the room and asked in a faint tone.
"Could this room full of chaos be a psychological hint deliberately left by the killer? Is he trying to intentionally guide us, to keep our search for the body firmly fixed on this room?"
Steve leaned against a wall that was still somewhat intact, reached out to rub his throbbing temples, and sighed.
"I don't know."
Steve's voice carried a rare trace of helplessness and a headache.
"This is the most painful part of playing chess against oneself."
"The killer, standing at a past point in time, knows exactly what we latecomers will think."
"But we latecomers cannot 100% reverse-engineer what kind of accident that guy encountered in this room that led him to make such an arrangement."
Number Two also leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his gaze under the mask somewhat speechless.
"If he wants to mislead us, then what is his purpose for keeping us here?"
Number Two analyzed.
"Is it simply to delay our exploration time? But what's the use of stalling the two of us? Besides, the game has just begun; we have plenty of time to spend here."
Steve stood up straight, his gaze sweeping over the collapsed bookshelves and heavy solid wood desk in the room.
"Since we can't figure it out, then don't think about it."
Steve made a decision.
"Anyway, since the other party dared to leave the scene like this and even dared to leave the body here, it proves that there are likely no valuable direct clues left on the corpse. Otherwise, he would have found a way to destroy the evidence long ago."
"Since we're already here, let's search the vicinity thoroughly. If we really can't find the body or a mechanism, then let's not waste time and go somewhere else directly."
Number Two nodded in agreement.
"Alright, then let's split up and search."
Having said that, Number Two turned and walked out of the Study, intending to check a few side rooms at the other end of the corridor for clues.
Meanwhile, Steve remained in this messy Study.
He looked at the chaos all over the floor, his gaze becoming extremely sharp.
"Whether it's a real fight or a fake disguise..."
Steve walked to the massive mahogany desk split in half and tapped the thick solid wood tabletop.
"There must be a hidden door in here that someone doesn't want easily discovered."
Inside the dilapidated Study, Steve ignored the books scattered on the floor and instead focused his attention on the surrounding walls.
"Dong, dong, dong..."
He curled his fingers and patiently tapped the wall inch by inch along its texture.
The echoes resonated in the quiet room; the sound was extremely solid, without the slightest feedback of a hollow space.
After tapping a full circle, Steve patted the dust off his hands, his brow under the mask furrowing slightly.
"They are all solid dead walls, with no hidden doors or compartments."
Steve calculated silently in his mind.
"It seems this Study really is just a scene destroyed by a fight, or a pure ruse to divert attention. The real clues and hidden doors should be hidden in other rooms of the church."
Since nothing valuable could be found here, Steve did not intend to waste any more time. He turned and strode out of the Study, preparing to investigate areas like the church's Back Hall and Basement.
At the same time, in the Ancient Mansion's second-floor corridor.
The light in the gallery was dim.
Number Six stood quietly in the center of the corridor, his eyes hidden behind the white mask scanning the surroundings.
In this chess game where everyone was a scheming veteran, he had always maintained a solitary style because he firmly believed that no one was more reliable than himself.
His gaze lingered for a moment on the doors at both ends of the corridor, and a confident sneer suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"The first door, and the last door..."
Number Six snorted coldly in his heart.
He had just carefully checked the last door at the end of the corridor; it was empty inside and very safe.
After confirming his escape route and surroundings, Number Six no longer hesitated. He walked straight to the first door next to the stairs, pushed it open, and stroed inside.
Number Six had a clear goal; he walked directly to the wide solid wood desk, intending to take out the items from the desk drawer.
Just as he bent down, fully focused on rummaging through the drawer.
An extremely subtle sound suddenly arose without warning in the silent Study.
No footsteps, no breathing, no sound of a door opening.
The hairs all over Number Six's body stood on end instantly, and a sense of lethal crisis surged through him like an electric current.
However, it was too close! That attack came too eerily.
*Puchi.*
An extremely sharp knife, as if it had eyes, shot out of thin air from the air behind and to his side, piercing his back ruthlessly at an incredible angle.
"Ugh!"
Number Six let out a suppressed scream and plunged forward onto the desk, clutching his back tightly, his eyes filled with undisguisable shock.
"How is this possible?"
Enduring the intense pain, Number Six struggled to turn his head to look in the direction the knife had flown from—it was from above the bookshelf.
"In this Ghost Domain, spiritual power is suppressed to the death; it's impossible to control objects to kill. This knife was definitely not controlled by spiritual power."
Number Six's brain was racing, and he instantly figured out how this strike had been accomplished.
"It's a Mirror Room; it's Spatial Synchronization."
He gritted his teeth, waves of shock surging in his heart.
"I clearly just checked the last door, and there was absolutely no one inside. That means someone quietly slipped into the Mirror Room at the end of the corridor after I entered this room; he went in at the exact moment I opened the door."
"That person, in the Mirror Room, picked up a knife and made the throwing and stabbing motions towards the spatial position corresponding to me."
"Then, through the room's spatial duplication and synchronization mechanism, this knife materialized in this room and shot straight through my back from mid-air."
"But how did he know my location? Did he know my purpose for coming to this room from the start?"
"Cough, cough..."
Number Six had just tried to stand up when he suddenly felt a sweetness in his throat, and a mouthful of black blood spurted directly onto the desk.
He looked down in horror, realizing that the blood flowing from the wound on his back had turned a thick black, and the muscles around the wound were rapidly necrotizing and numbing before his eyes.
"Damn it, the knife was poisoned."
Number Six felt his vitality rapidly draining away.
"Steve, you're truly insidious."
Number Six cursed wildly in his heart.
Since everyone was Steve, he naturally knew how well this killing game suited his modus operandi.
Ruthless and meticulously calculated.
"No, this poison is too potent, I can't escape..."
Feeling his vision rapidly blurring, Number Six knew he was doomed today.
But the ruthlessness in his bones was completely ignited.
"Even if I die, I absolutely cannot let this bastard who killed me off easily. I must leave some clues for those who come later and thoroughly muddy the waters."
Number Six used his last ounce of strength, dipping his finger in his own black blood, trying to write something on the desk.
Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open, then closed.
Number Six's movements paused.
He knew that the Murderer had come out of the mirror room at the end of the corridor.
Immediately after, unhurried footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching the first door where he was located.
Number Six stared intently at the half-open door in front of him, breathing heavily.
He gave up on leaving a bloody message; he wanted to see with his own eyes which of these seven people was so impatient to take his life.
"Bang!"
The door was kicked open.
A slender figure stood in the doorway.
Number Six's bloodshot eyes widened abruptly the moment he saw who it was, his pupils filled with incredulous shock.
"It's you?"
The person standing at the door was not wearing the white mask that changed identity, nor a loose black robe.
It was a refined, stern face, a face Number Six knew all too well.
It was Steve's original appearance.
The Murderer had actually removed his disguise, the mask.
This move directly shattered Number Six's psychological defenses.
If the other party had been wearing a mask, he might have been able to deduce which player it was from their clothing and build.
But now.
The other party appeared directly with Steve's true face, and in this Ghost Domain where everyone was Steve, this face was, paradoxically, the most perfect, unidentifiable super disguise.
"Which number are you, exactly?"
Number Six asked with difficulty, black blood gushing from his mouth.
Steve's lips curved into a cold and arrogant smile. He walked slowly to Number Six, looking down at the dying man, and did not answer the question.
"Why kill me?"
Number Six clutched the edge of the desk tightly, his eyes filled with unwillingness.
"If you kill me, will you win?"
The Murderer nodded slightly, his eyes revealing absolute rationality.
"Clever. In this game, by killing you, I have already obtained the key to leave this place."
"Clearance condition..."
Number Six's pupils dilated, and he roared with his last breath.
"Can you tell me what the real clearance condition is?"
The Murderer looked at him, slowly bent down, and whispered into Number Six's ear.
"Clearance condition? Heh, you blind fools, just keep playing your game of suspicion here."
Having said that, the Murderer mercilessly raised his foot and delivered a heavy axe kick, stomping fiercely on the back of Number Six's head.
Number Six's body twitched violently, completely losing its vitality, and he slid limply under the desk, dying with his eyes wide open.
After confirming Number Six was dead, the Murderer squatted down and searched Number Six's corpse.
A moment later, he seemed to find what he was looking for and put it away close to his body.
Then, the Murderer stood up and walked out of the first room without any lingering attachment.
But he did not go downstairs immediately; instead, he followed the corridor directly to the last door at the end of the corridor, the mirror room.
Pushing open the door.
As expected, under the absolute rule of spatial synchronization, Number Six was already dead, and a corpse of Number Six was also synchronized.
The posture, the state of death, and even the black blood on the ground were identical.
The Murderer walked to this mirrored corpse and squatted down again.
He placed his hand on Number Six's mirrored corpse and closed his eyes, sensing carefully.
"Found it..."
A satisfied smile appeared on the Murderer's face.
After doing all this, the Murderer put the white mask back on his face, put on his black robe, pushed open the door, and silently disappeared at the staircase on the second floor.
Mist City, outer corridor of the White Cathedral.
Steve and Number Two searched the other side halls of the cathedral and finally met again at the corner of the long corridor.
"How was it? Any clues?"
Number Two leaned against a stone pillar carved with a cross, his tone carrying a hint of obvious disappointment.
Steve shook his head, brushing dust from his sleeves.
"None. I've been to most parts of this cathedral. Besides the deliberately placed Bibles and benches, I didn't even find a piece of paper with writing on it. What about you?"
Number Two also shook his head.
"Nothing at all, it's as clean as if a dog licked it."
Upon hearing this, Steve turned his head, his gaze beneath the mask deeply scrutinizing Number Two.
"Number Two."
Steve suddenly spoke, his tone becoming somewhat playful.
"Do you know some inside information, or hidden information that I don't?"
Hearing Steve's sudden direct probing, Number Two did not panic.
He had long known that with his intellect, he couldn't possibly fail to see that he had been holding back.
"Heh..."
Number Two chuckled lightly, then simply admitted it openly.
"Indeed, I know some information you don't. In this kind of battle royale at the start, each player receives different initial intelligence; some get more, some less."
He paused, his gaze piercing back at Steve.
"Number One, stop pretending. Don't you also have a life-saving method that I don't know about?"
Steve looked at Number Two's inquisitive gaze, secretly amused in his heart.
He naturally knew what Number Two was probing for.
Number Two had sensed the fearlessness towards rules and the confidence of not fearing death emanating from him.
And this confidence originated from the unique heart of faith in his chest.
Number Two stepped forward, lowering his voice to propose.
"How about it? Since we've both laid our cards on the table, should we cooperate and exchange information?"
Listening to Number Two's proposal for cooperation, a hint of mockery appeared at the corner of Steve's mouth beneath his mask.
"Exchange information?"
Steve understood everything perfectly.
He knew himself too well.
This Number Two had no intention of sincerely exchanging core information; this was merely a delaying tactic. He wanted to use some insignificant scraps to fish for the ultimate trump card of why Steve wasn't afraid of death.
"Forget it."
Steve waved his hand and directly rejected the tempting proposal, his tone carrying a hint of condescending pity.
"If I told you the truth, I'm afraid your heart wouldn't be able to take the shock."
Steve grumbled to himself.
"If I told you that the six of you are actually just clones forcibly replicated by the rules because I stepped into this SSS-rank Ghost Domain, and that you aren't even real humans... who could take that? It would be a wonder if your worldview didn't collapse on the spot."
"As for how to prove it? It's too simple. The heart of faith is the ironclad evidence."
Hearing Steve's comment about his heart not being able to take it, Number Two was momentarily stunned.
He stared fixedly at Steve, his brain working frantically as he tried to deconstruct the deeper meaning behind those words.
"Heart can't take it? Could he hold the ultimate secret regarding the identities of us seven? A secret enough to subvert our entire perception?"
The more Number Two thought about it, the more alarmed he became, but he couldn't figure out what that secret could possibly be.
Seeing that Steve had no intention of continuing, Number Two tactfully dropped the subject.
"Fine, if you're unwilling to say, then forget it."
Number Two sighed, looking at the empty church corridor.
"So what now? There isn't even a ghost of a shadow in this church; we've searched for so long for nothing."
Steve walked to the white railing, leaning his hands on it as he gazed at the city ruins shrouded in mist in the distance.
"Then we can only wait."
Steve analyzed calmly.
"Yesterday, the number of people who cleared the stage on the big screen was zero. This means that whoever is pulling the strings behind the scenes, the first day's slaughter didn't satisfy the clear conditions."
"There are only six people left on the game panel now. If the two of us keep an eye on each other and vouch for one another, then our suspicion is cleared."
"Among the remaining four, once we remove the unlucky one who is about to die, only three people will be left."
"One out of three. It shouldn't be too difficult to root out the Murderer from those three."
After hearing this, Number Two's eyes brightened slightly, and he nodded heavily.
"That is indeed a good way."
Number Two agreed, then asked.
"Should we head back to the Ancient Mansion now? I expect the meeting time is almost here."
"No need."
Steve shook his head decisively.
"If we go back now and huddle with the four of them, the Murderer definitely won't be able to strike in broad daylight. Instead of going back to be third wheels, we might as well stay out here."
Steve turned his head, a calculating glint flashing in his eyes.
"Besides, by staying outside, we can naturally draw suspicion to ourselves, preventing others from easily guessing our trump cards and confusing their vision."
Hearing this, Number Two immediately broke into an understanding smile beneath his mask.
"Not bad, that's exactly what I was thinking."
Number Two praised inwardly.
"If we go back now and everyone is gathered together, it would be like indirectly protecting the target. The Murderer would never expose themselves at a time like this. By staying outside, we not only create space for the Murderer to act but also disguise ourselves as suspects who are out and about."
Number Two knew very well that the clear conditions for this game were most likely related to killing.
"If Number Four and Number Five in the Ancient Mansion were the first to figure out the killing pattern, our side would be too passive."
"Therefore, misleading them and muddying the waters was necessary."
The two leaned side-by-side against the railing outside the church, looking toward the Ancient Mansion in the distance like two chess players observing coldly from the sidelines.
"Who do you think..."
Steve suddenly spoke, his voice somewhat ethereal in the breeze.
"...between Number Three and Number Six, will die?"
Number Two pondered for a moment and analyzed seriously.
"Number Four and Number Five have already formed some kind of alliance and are staying together constantly. It would be too difficult for the Murderer to deal with both of them at once. Yesterday Number Seven died, yet Number Three survived unscathed."
"Based on the process of elimination and the Murderer's psychological need for stability, that Number Six, who has always been a loner, should be tonight's sacrifice."
Steve nodded, fully agreeing with this deduction.
"Indeed, I was thinking the same."
Steve said.
"However, that Number Three always gives me a very strange feeling."
Number Two also leaned on the railing and sighed.
"Yeah, overnight, he's like a completely different person—changing from a girl pretending to be submissive to a decisive person."
"But when we tested him in the courtyard, his reaction seemed so innocent yet firm. I can't quite tell if he's acting or if there's really more to it."
Steve's gaze grew deep.
"He said he didn't kill Number Seven. In this kind of pure logical reasoning game, his micro-expressions and tone at that moment didn't seem like he was lying."
"If Number Three didn't kill Number Seven, then the only ones who could have killed Number Seven are..."
Steve extended his fingers, counting them off one by one.
"Excluding a kill by the rules, excluding the two of us, and excluding Number Three, the only ones left are Number Four, Number Five, and Number Six."
"If Number Six is the one who dies tonight..."
Steve's voice carried a hint of excitement.
"Then it gets interesting. That would mean the Murderer has actually been hiding inside the Ancient Mansion all along; it was Number Four and Number Five who teamed up to kill Number Seven, and they are currently killing Number Six."
"Those two guys..."
Steve sneered, giving a precise evaluation of Number Four and Number Five.
"The feeling they give me is that they know a lot of clues, but none of them are of much use."
Hearing the evaluation of 'knowing a lot but being useless,' the corner of Number Two's mouth under his mask couldn't help but twitch violently.
Wasn't this damn well throwing shade at him?
"Cough..."
Number Two cursed inwardly.
"Number Four and Number Five entered before me and got first-hand information earlier; what can I do? I'm already pushing my limits here."
The setting sun was like blood, dyeing the thick mist on the horizon into a layer of reddish-brown.
Steve and Number Two leaned side-by-side against the white marble railing. Neither spoke, both silently watching the distant Ancient Mansion that seemed ready to devour everything.
"It's about time."
Steve glanced at the sky. That heart-palpitating sense of oppression surged from all directions once again, signaling that night was about to fall.
He stood up straight and brushed the dust off his Taoist robe.
"Let's go. We'll head back and see which unlucky soul dies tonight."
Number Two nodded and, without a word, silently followed behind Steve.
Their silhouettes stretched long under the setting sun, appearing somewhat desolate.
...
Ancient Mansion, Conference Room.
When Steve and Number Two pushed open the heavy wooden door, the air in the Conference Room seemed to freeze.
Under the dim yellow light, Number Three, Number Four, and Number Five were already seated in a triangular formation.
They sat far apart, their eyes filled with wariness; clearly, the atmosphere just moments ago had not been harmonious.
Steve and Number Two exchanged a look, understanding the situation.
"It seems Number Six is the one who died today."
Number Two signaled with a glance.
After all, Number Six always kept to himself, making him the best target.
The two didn't greet anyone and walked straight to their respective seats.
Before they could even get settled, Number Four's voice rang out.
"Number One, Number Two, you two have been outside all day without a soul in sight. Do you have any leads? Did you find anything on Number Seven's body?"
Her tone was aggressive, her eyes fixed intently on Steve's mask, trying to find even a hint of panic.
Steve lifted his eyelids, gave her a nonchalant glance, and spoke calmly.
"We found nothing, and Number Seven's body wasn't located either. Outside, there's nothing but mist and ruins."
After speaking, he quietly looked at Number Four with a cold indifference that signaled for her to get to the point and stop beating around the bush.
"Ahem..."
The old man, Number Five, coughed twice, breaking the deadlock.
His cloudy eyes swept over everyone, and he spoke in a meaningful, earnest tone.
"Actually, Number One, I don't think it's necessary for us to be so wary of one another. We all know that since we are all ourselves, we should possess the same intelligence and goals. Perhaps we could share our clues and find a path where everyone can survive?"
"Heh..."
Before Steve could speak, Number Two suddenly let out a sneer.
He turned his head, his eyes beneath the mask full of mockery as he looked directly at Number Five.
"Do you even believe that yourself, Number Five?"
"You know we are all ourselves, so you should know best what our kind is like. Why do people die? Why do they kill? Isn't it because it's tied to clearing the game?"
Number Two's voice suddenly rose, carrying a sharp edge.
"Do you think cooperation means no one has to kill? Stop playing the saint. You talk a good game now, but once you learn the killing conditions for clearing the stage, I bet you'll be the first one who can't help but stab someone in the back."
These words were like a resounding slap across Number Five's face.
His thoughts exposed, Number Five's face turned pale and then flushed. He opened his mouth but couldn't find a single word of rebuttal, finally closing it with a grim expression.
Number Two didn't stop there. He turned to Number Four and sneered.
"And you, Number Four, why have you gone quiet? Weren't you quite talkative just now?"
"I see you and Number Five have been inseparable inside this mansion. Now that Number Six hasn't shown up, could it be that the two of you teamed up to kill him?"
"You!"
Hearing this, Number Four slammed her hand on the table and stood up, pointing at Number Two and cursing.
"Number Two, don't you dare slander us! You and Number One have been outside this whole time; who knows what you were up to? Why wouldn't you have killed him? You're suspects too. Maybe Number Six died outside."
"Tch."
Number Two shrugged, spreading his hands with an air of indifference.
"I didn't say Number One and I were above suspicion. I'm just reasonably doubting you. What? Can't handle it? Did I hit a nerve?"
"You..."
Number Four was speechless with rage.
Amidst the chaotic argument, Number Three remained silent throughout.
She sat there quietly, hands folded over her knees, but a depth of thought lurked within her innocent-looking eyes.
Her gaze drifted past the bickering crowd and settled on the empty seat that belonged to Number Six.
"It seems Number Six really is dead," Number Three calculated inwardly.
Number Three was secretly making her own calculations.
"Then it could only be one of those two groups. Which one?"
Her gaze slowly shifted, eventually landing on Number One, who sat beside Number Two like an outsider watching a play.
"Is this guy really that relaxed?"
A trace of wariness rose in Number Three's heart.
"He hasn't offered a single word of defense against the accusations and suspicion. With such absolute confidence, could he really be holding a winning trump card?"
While the others were still arguing incessantly and the tension in the Conference Room grew thicker,
Steve, who had been silent all along, suddenly reached out and grabbed Number Two, who was about to continue his verbal assault, and forced him back into his seat.
"What is it?"
Number Two was startled and looked at Steve in confusion.
Steve didn't look at him; instead, he fixed his gaze on the closed doors of the Conference Room, his voice low and firm.
"Someone is coming."
"Number Six... might not be dead."
"What?"
As soon as those words were spoken, the entire Conference Room fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone seemed to have been hit by a freezing spell; the arguing stopped abruptly.
Number Four, Number Five, and Number Three all turned their gazes toward the door in unison, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief.
*Clomp, clomp, clomp...*
Heavy footsteps echoed from outside the door, each one feeling like a stomp on everyone's hearts.
The door was slowly pushed open.
Under the horrified gazes of the crowd, a burly man with knotty muscles walked in with steady steps.
It was indeed Number Six.
Though there was some dust on him, there were no visible wounds. He appeared completely unharmed and full of energy.
"What? Surprised to see me?"
Number Six scanned the room, his gaze passing over everyone's faces before settling on the shocked Number Four and Number Five, a cold sneer curling his lips.
"Are you disappointed? Did you think I was already a dead man?"
"You..."
Number Four's mouth hung open, unable to utter a word for a long time.
She was truly shocked.
In this game with such a high mortality rate, a lone wolf could actually survive?
And that too, when everyone had already assumed he was dead.
"Since Number Six isn't dead,"
Steve spoke up at the right moment, breaking the awkward silence.
"Then there's no need for everyone to argue. Now that everyone is here, let's look at the data and move on to the third day."
Hearing this, everyone nodded and returned to their seats.
Although their hearts were still filled with doubt and suspicion, since no one had died, their previous mutual accusations lost their footing.
"Since no one died, it means today's data shouldn't have changed..."
Number Five secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It was good that no one died; at least it proved the current situation was still within control.
However.
Just as everyone was about to stand up and leave, ending this farce,
*Beep!*
The massive display screen on the wall suddenly made a sound, glowing with a brilliant red light.
Everyone's steps suddenly halted, and they looked back in horror.
The blood-red numbers on the screen were frantically jumping, finally settling on a result that sent shivers down everyone's spines.
[Total Participants: 6]
[Deaths Yesterday: 1]
[Cleared Participants: 1]
Boom!
"Cleared participants: 1?"
Number Four was stunned.
Steve suddenly stood up and quickly walked to the display screen, staring intently at the line of numbers.
Number Two followed closely, also looking as if he had seen a ghost.
"How strange..."
Steve's brows were tightly furrowed, and his voice carried a deep chill.
"One person died, but everyone is clearly still sitting here. How did the number of cleared participants become 1?"
"Does that mean someone has already left?"
"But..."
Steve suddenly turned around, his gaze like a knife sweeping over everyone present.
"Why is the total number still 6?"
"Yesterday's total was 6. One died, one cleared. Logically, there should only be 4 people left."
"Why are there still 6 people sitting here?"
After hearing Steve's analysis, Number Two felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.
He looked at Number Three, Number Four, Number Five, and Number Six sitting opposite him, feeling as if a devil's face was hidden beneath each mask.
"Who are the two extra people?"
Everyone was in shock.
Except for Number Six.
Number Six, sitting in the corner, also feigned a shocked expression, but a faint, eerie glint flashed deep within his eyes.
The entire Conference Room fell into a deadly silence again, but this time, the quiet was more oppressive, more suffocating than before.
"Everyone..."
Number Three suddenly spoke, her voice a little dry, as if trying to break the fear.
"Shouldn't we say something? Staying here until dawn isn't a solution..."
No one responded.
Who dared to speak?
Now everyone looked at each other as if they were a Paranormal World inhabitant.
Who knew if the person sitting opposite you was human or a Paranormal World inhabitant?
Fortress Command Center.
Randy stared intently at the data on the screen and said to the analysis team beside him.
"What's going on? What does this data mean? What's wrong with Steve and the others? Why aren't they talking?"
A Chief Analyst stood up, sweating profusely, holding a newly released emergency report, his voice trembling.
"Reporting, Chief, according to the emergency analysis by the Think Tank, the identities of the six Director Yes in the Conference Room may have a critically serious problem."
"What problem? Speak."
"Based on data reversal..."
The analyst swallowed.
"Originally, there were only four real Director Yes left: Number One, Number Two, and two others unknown. But now, not only has the dead position been filled, but the person who cleared has also been replaced."
"That is to say, among those six people, two things that are not Director Steve have infiltrated."
"These two things have taken over the original positions, possessing the exact same appearance and disguise as Director Steve."
"This..."
Randy felt a dizzy spell.
"Two Paranormal World inhabitants have infiltrated?"
"Yes."
The analyst continued.
"The situation is very delicate now. Director Steve and Number Two have been together, which means that among the four people sitting opposite them, two are already impersonated by Paranormal World inhabitants, or possibly even more."
"In this game where everyone is supposed to be 'himself,' once outsiders infiltrate, especially Paranormal World inhabitants who can perfectly disguise themselves, sharing information becomes the most deadly poison."
"Because you simply don't know who you're sharing with."
Randy took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, his gaze fixed on the screen like a torch.
"Has the analysis result come out? Who has a higher possibility of being a Paranormal World inhabitant?"
"Comparing now."
The analyst's fingers moved rapidly.
"We cross-compared the behavioral patterns of the six individuals."
"The current suspect groups are as follows: Number Four and Number Five have always been together. These two mutually corroborate each other, so their suspicion is relatively low, or both of them are Paranormal World inhabitants."
"The biggest suspects are Number Three and Number Six."
On the screen, the images of Number Three and Number Six were enlarged.
"According to the Think Tank's latest time trajectory analysis report, the time Number Three appeared last night and the time Number Six appeared tonight show a high degree of consistency in certain behavioral logic."
"Consistency?"
Randy was startled.
"Yes, it's like the same actor entering a place again at different times."
After hearing this, Randy felt a chill run through his body.
"Who was the one who cleared? They are all clearly here. Who cleared?"
"The Think Tank's analysis..."
The analyst's voice became extremely low.
"It is highly possible that someone was replaced by a Paranormal World inhabitant the moment they met the clearance conditions."
"The real Steve has already left, or died, and the one sitting there now is a Paranormal World inhabitant wearing his skin."
...
Paranormal World, Conference Room.
Silence spread.
Time seemed to stand still here.
Everyone was scrutinizing others from the corner of their eyes.
Finally.
The notification sound symbolizing dawn rang again.
[Night ends]
[A new day has begun, all players please explore on your own]
The door automatically sprang open, revealing the grayish-white fog outside.
However, this time, no one rushed out as they did yesterday.
Everyone remained seated in their chairs, like clay figures or wooden sculptures.
"Since no one is leaving..."
Number Six, sitting in the corner, suddenly stood up.
He expressionlessly tidied his clothes and let out a cold snort.
"Then I won't be accompanying you."
With that, he strode towards the door, his back appearing exceptionally resolute.
Watching Number Six leave, a glint flashed in Steve's eyes.
"Let's go."
He whispered to Number Two beside him, then also stood up and quickly followed.
Number Two said nothing, silently following behind Steve.
Only three people remained in the Conference Room.
Number Three looked at Steve's departing back, a hint of hesitation appearing on her masked face.
"Where are they going?"
Number Three mused inwardly.
"Following Number One might be the safest option right now..."
Thinking this, she no longer hesitated, stood up, and followed them.
The remaining Number Four and Number Five exchanged glances.
"Let's go."
Number Four sighed and stood up.
"Let's also go outside and take a look. Staying here is too oppressive."
"Where to?"
Number Five asked.
Number Four pointed in the white direction.
"To the church. I always feel there's something wrong with what Number One said."
"Hehe, alright."
Old Man Number Five chuckled sinisterly and also stood up.
Soon, the six people dispersed again, disappearing into the fog.
Only this time, no one could tell who was human and who was a Paranormal World inhabitant.
Steve walked at the very front, his azure Daoist robe faintly visible in the mist.
Number Two, wearing that striking red dress, followed closely behind.
The two walked one after another, neither of them breaking the suffocating silence first.
Suddenly, Steve, who was walking in front, stopped without warning.
He didn't turn back, just stood with his back to Number Two, his voice sounding particularly eerie in the empty street.
"The situation is becoming increasingly complex. Not only did someone die yesterday, but today there's even an extra clearance slot. What do you plan to do?"
Hearing this question, Number Two's eyes under his mask flickered slightly. He looked at Steve's unguarded back, rapidly calculating the other party's intentions.
"Don't you suspect that the person killed outside was me?"
Steve slightly turned his head, sweeping his gaze over Number Two with the corner of his eye, his tone carrying a hint of probing.
"At the church, we briefly separated to look for clues. During that time, both you and I could have been replaced, or killed."
Number Two was first startled by these words, then took a deep breath and nodded frankly.
"Indeed, in this unpredictable Ghost Domain, even a second out of sight could mean being swapped. That possibility certainly exists."
But he changed the subject, his eyes under the mask staring intently at Steve's back, his tone extremely certain.
"However, I don't think you've been replaced."
"Oh?"
Steve finally turned around completely, facing Number Two, arms crossed, and asked with interest.
"So confident? Why?"
Number Two didn't back down; instead, he took two steps forward, closing the distance between them. He lowered his voice and said, word by word.
"Because you are still, as always, not afraid of death."
"Here, all the people, the souls hidden beneath the masks, are Steve. We possess the same intelligence, the same caution, the same suspicion."
"No Steve could display that almost reckless fearlessness of yours in this deadly game where death could strike at any moment."
"You dared to twist an unknown door with your bare hands, you dared to ignore everyone's hostility in the Conference Room. This confidence isn't faked."
Number Two took a deep breath, as if a great weight had been lifted.
"So, you definitely haven't been killed, or rather, in this game, no one can kill you at all!"
Hearing this remarkably accurate analysis, the corners of Steve's mouth under his mask slowly curved upwards.
"Indeed."
Steve lightly clapped his hands, admitting it generously.
"A very accurate guess. Indeed, no one can kill me."
His deep eyes, peering through the mask's holes, stared at Number Two with a condescending scrutiny.
Steve wanted to see what expression this doppelganger, possessing all of his wisdom and logic, would show upon realizing that he was merely a copy.
To Steve's surprise, Number Two showed no despair or jealousy upon hearing this confirmation.
On the contrary, he smiled slightly, his tense shoulders visibly relaxing, like a drowning person finally grasping a solid piece of driftwood, letting out a long sigh of relief.
"May I ask one last question?"
Number Two looked directly at Steve.
"You may."
Steve nodded.
Number Two swallowed, asking the most crucial question that had long lingered in his heart.
"Is your trump card, that fearlessness of death, a special item granted to you at the start of this game, or was it originally part of Steve's main body?"
This was an extremely critical question.
If it was given by the game, it meant everyone still had a chance to contend.
If it came with the main body, then the outcome of this game was already decided at the start.
Steve looked at him, his gaze unwavering, and calmly uttered a few words.
"Originally, it was mine."
Boom!
Number Two's body trembled slightly, but he quickly calmed down.
"Good."
Number Two nodded heavily, his eyes under the mask becoming clearer and more resolute than ever before.
"Since you are the true main body, then in this game, I will help you clear it. I will do my best to ensure you walk out alive."
With that, Number Two deliberately stepped aside and moved to Steve's rear-left, completely handing over the initiative to Steve.
Watching Number Two's decisive action, as their figures crossed, Steve couldn't help but turn his head and ask softly.
"Aren't you afraid I'm lying to you? Perhaps that trump card is really just a smokescreen given by the game?"
Number Two continued walking, replying without looking back.
"It doesn't seem like it, and besides, as Steve, I know myself too well. In the face of an absolute power gap, futile struggle is the most foolish. Since only you can break the deadlock, then protecting you is protecting the greatest interest of the existence that is Steve."
"Let's go."
Looking at Number Two's back, Steve couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion.
As expected of himself.
This ultimate rationality and self-interest, and the decisive ability to sacrifice the smaller self for the greater self when necessary, was indeed Steve's way of doing things.
Steve took a step and followed.
The two walked side by side in the mist.
"Since you've confirmed that I am the main body."
Steve said as he walked.
"Now, spill all the information you've been holding back."
Number Two turned his head, glanced at Steve, and said in a deep voice.
"Yesterday in the church, you speculated that everyone was a newcomer, all on the same starting line. In fact, this premise was wrong from the beginning."
"What's the problem?"
Steve raised an eyebrow.
"We didn't all enter at the same time."
Number Two's tone was grave.
"To be precise, some people entered early."
"Actually, before the game officially started, that is, before you entered the Conference Room, I had already been in this Ghost Domain for a full day."
Number Two's words were astonishing.
"During that day, the house was dead silent, nothing happened. I just observed near the Conference Room for a day. Then, with a flash of golden light, the mechanical voice prompted the game to begin, and you, along with the others, appeared one after another in the Conference Room."
Hearing this, Steve's pupils suddenly contracted, and he instantly stopped walking.
"You mean..."
"Exactly."
Number Two nodded, his expression severe.
"I suspect that not only did I come in early, but Number Three, Number Four, Number Five, Number Seven... they must have all come in early too, and they've definitely been here longer than me."
Steve's mind raced, and countless previously overlooked details instantly connected.
"No wonder..."
Steve suddenly understood.
"No wonder Number Seven and Number Three, on the first day of the game, dared to walk directly into the perilous misty city outside without even exploring the interior of the house."
"Because they had already entered this world ahead of time. Before the game officially started, they had already turned the Ancient Mansion upside down. Knowing that the mansion didn't contain what they wanted, they headed straight for the exterior with a clear objective."
Number Two nodded.
"I suspect that's the case as well. This is definitely an unfair game."
"Do you know exactly how much earlier they arrived?"
Steve followed up.
Number Two shook his head.
"I don't know. I entered one day before you. Personally, I suspect the mechanism of this game follows a certain sequence, inserting people day by day. Some might have been here for three days, some for four, or even longer."
Steve leaned against a broken billboard by the roadside, his gaze deep.
"If your hypothesis holds true..."
Steve said coldly.
"That means even before the first shot of this seven days together game was officially fired, someone had already gained insight into the clear conditions."
"Remember that destroyed wall in the church?"
Steve spoke faster and faster, his thoughts crystal clear.
"Suppose that person who entered early saw the clues on the wall, but didn't destroy them immediately because the game hadn't started yet. He didn't know what that wall signified."
"However, the moment the game officially began and the mechanical voice prompted [Clear Condition: Discover for yourself], that person immediately understood that what was written on that wall was the true clear condition."
"Thus, he unhesitatingly led people out of the Ancient Mansion and rushed straight to the church. After completing some kind of murder condition, he took the opportunity to completely destroy the wall, not wanting to leave any clues for the subsequent players."
Listening to Steve's analysis, Number Two nodded repeatedly, his eyes filled with admiration.
"Exactly. And yesterday, the only ones who rushed out at the very start were Number Three and Number Seven."
"This indicates that the one who saw the information on that wall must be the very first player to enter this world. Otherwise, it would be impossible for only the two of them to head straight for the church. Other players who entered later hadn't explored the outside at all because they had so little time."
"Correct."
Steve continued to deduce based on the logic.
"Seven people. You are Number Two, one day early. I am Number One, the last to enter with no lead time. If we arrange them in reverse order..."
"That Number Seven might have already been here for a full six days."
"Number Seven discovered the secret of the wall and then sought out Number Three, taking her outside. But strangely, if Number Seven wanted to kill to keep the clues for himself, why did Number Three return alive for yesterday's meeting? That is the crux of the matter."
Just as the two fell into a logical dead end, unable to find an answer...
"No."
A cold, familiar voice suddenly drifted from the thick mist ahead.
"Number Three is already dead."
"Who's there?"
The hair on the bodies of Steve and Number Two stood on end as they both whipped their heads around.
The greyish-white mist churned, and a petite figure wearing a sailor suit slowly emerged from the fog.
It was precisely Number Three.
"What do you mean by that?"
Steve narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the approaching Number Three.
If Number Three was already dead, then what was this lively thing in front of them? A ghost?
Number Three stopped five meters away from them, her gaze behind the mask deep.
"I heard your analysis just now."
Number Three's voice was exceptionally calm, without a hint of hostility.
"Your reasoning is brilliant, and the general direction is correct, but you overlooked one of the most critical game mechanisms."
She took a deep breath and dropped a piece of information enough to overturn everyone's perception.
"Actually, I didn't enter this game at the same time as you."
"When I was deployed into this Conference Room, you had already completed the first day of the game."
"What?"
Number Two turned pale with shock.
Number Three continued.
"At that time, you were still in the Conference Room suspecting each other, thinking the one who died outside was Number Seven. But in reality, based on the clues I quietly gathered in the mansion yesterday and the profiling of certain traces..."
"Although I currently hold the code name Number Three, the real Number Three who attended the meeting and played the game with you on the first day has long since become a corpse."
"I was deployed to take her place only after the real Number Three died."
Boom!
These words were like a magnitude ten earthquake, raging wildly through the minds of Steve and Number Two.
"So that's how it is!"
Steve and Number Two were instantly enlightened, their scalps tingling.
"I understand. I completely understand the mechanism of this game now,"
Steve said.
"Once a player dies in the game, the system doesn't leave the seat vacant. Instead, it immediately pulls in a new Steve to join the game seamlessly under the identity of the deceased."
"You are the replacement who joined after the real Number Three died. In other words, the one who died outside yesterday wasn't Number Seven at all, but the real Number Three."
Steve's mind whirred rapidly, instantly thinking of another person.
"That Number Six!"
Steve, Number Two, and Number Three almost shouted the name in unison.
"Yes."
Number Three nodded.
"That Number Six who has been acting all brooding and deep is actually already dead. He was just replaced by a new Steve, just like you."
"Like you, he was deployed into the Conference Room after nightfall, when it was assumed the casualties were set. This also explains why the two of you entered the Conference Room at almost the same time."
Number Two analyzed.
"Meaning, the one who truly died at the church yesterday was Number Three, and the Murderer was Number Seven."
"But..."
Number Two suddenly got stuck.
"If Number Seven didn't die and Number Three was replaced, why did the big screen show 6 people yesterday? Even after a replacement, there should still be seven people."
The three looked at each other, seeing the confusion through the eye-holes of their masks.
"Since the number decreased by one and Number Seven isn't dead..."
Steve took a deep breath.
"That means that blood-stained Number Seven is still hidden in this game, and..."
"Clearance Count: 1."
Steve spat out those words.
"Number Seven has already cleared the game."
Steve looked at the two of them and immediately inquired.
"Number Three, after this morning's meeting ended, was it you who killed Number Six?"
"It wasn't me."
Number Three shook her head decisively.
"I've only just been brought in as a replacement. I haven't even figured out the basic rules yet. How could I rashly kill a Number Six whose background is unknown? We are all Steve; you should understand my style of doing things."
"If it wasn't you..."
Steve's eyes were as cold as knives.
"Then it means the one who killed Number Six is still that Number Seven, who has already figured out everyone's trump cards."
"But why would he kill two people in a row?"
Number Two was puzzled.
"Could it be that the condition for clearing the game is that you must kill two players in a row?"
"I don't know."
Number Three shook her head.
"Only Number Seven, who has already left, probably knows the real way to clear the game now. But since he's already cleared it and disappeared, where are we supposed to find the answer?"
The three of them fell into silence.
Facing such a situation with a severe information imbalance, even with three Steve Tians gathered together, they felt a deep sense of powerlessness.
Suddenly.
Steve seemed to remember something extremely important, and his gaze snapped toward Number Two and Number Three.
"Wait a minute."
Steve asked at a very fast pace.
"When the game just started and you appeared in front of that stand with the masks and black robes, did you receive an envelope or a note?"
Hearing this, Number Two and Number Three nodded at the same time.
"Yes."
Number Two said.
"I saw it too."
Number Three echoed.
"Can you tell me exactly what was written on your notes?"
Steve stared intently at the two of them.
"I'll go first."
Number Two spoke without hesitation; he now fully trusted Steve.
"The note I saw said: [My name is Steve, I have survived, please be sure to trust everyone here]."
Hearing this, Number Three's brow furrowed slightly under her mask.
After Number Two finished, both of them turned their gazes toward Number Three.
Number Three took a deep breath and said in a heavy voice.
"What I saw was completely different from yours."
She recited the text word by word.
"[My name is Steve. When you see this letter, I am already dead. Please do not trust anyone, especially Number Seven]."
Hearing these words, Steve and Number Two were instantly stunned.
The hints were actually different.
Moreover, the hint Number Three received actually pointed out Number Seven specifically.
"Wait..."
Steve's brain connected all the clues together.
"This envelope, this note..."
Steve's voice was shocked.
"Could it be that these were really left by ourselves?"
"Are these clues left by the Steve Tians who either successfully cleared this loop or died miserably here, using some kind of loophole in the Ghost Domain for the Steve Tians who would replace them later?"
"For the first batch of players who came in, perhaps the notes all said to trust everyone, because everyone was a novice then and held onto the fantasy of cooperating to clear the game."
"But when someone was betrayed and killed, that dead Steve modified the hint left for the next successor, telling him not to trust anyone and that Number Seven is the Murderer."
Listening to Steve's deduction, which was both crazy and logically sound, Number Two and Number Three both gasped and nodded heavily.
"It's highly likely that's the case."
Number Two's voice trembled.
"If that's the case..."
Number Three quickly cleared her thoughts, a sharp light flashing in her eyes.
"Then the top priority now is to find the corpse."
"Don't worry about Number Three's corpse. Since Number Seven didn't want us to know the rules, he must have disposed of or hidden Number Three's body long ago, but..."
"Number Six's corpse."
Number Two interjected excitedly.
"Number Six was just killed by Number Seven yesterday. Since Number Seven could meet the clearance conditions by killing Number Six, he would have just left immediately after clearing it. He definitely wouldn't have the spare time to hide Number Six's corpse."
"The secret of how Number Seven killed someone to clear the game must still remain on Number Six's corpse."
The three looked at each other, seeing the fervor in each other's eyes.
"Let's go."
Steve made a prompt decision.
"Go into the Ancient Mansion and turn it upside down if we have to, but we must find Number Six's corpse."
Steve turned to Number Three and asked urgently.
"Number Three, think back. Do you know where Number Six went yesterday?"
Number Three frowned and thought carefully for a moment.
"I don't know."
Number Three shook her head.
"After I left the Conference Room yesterday, I was just wandering around the first-floor hall and the courtyard of the Ancient Mansion. I'm certain I never saw Number Six come down from upstairs."
"In other words..."
Steve's gaze was like a torch as he looked at the second floor of that Ancient Mansion deep in the mist.
"Number Six's corpse is definitely still upstairs."
Number One, Number Two, and the replacement Number Three exchanged a solemn look. Then, with perfect tacit understanding, they turned side-by-side and walked directly toward the second floor of the Ancient Mansion.
Footsteps echoed on the bluestone slabs.
However, just as they stepped out of the area where the side-room Conference Room was located and officially entered the brick path connecting the courtyard to the main house.
Steve, who was walking in the lead, suddenly stiffened, his footsteps coming to a dead halt.
"What's wrong?"
Seeing this, the girl in the sailor suit, who was Number Three and following closely behind, furrowed her delicate brows under her mask. She immediately stopped and looked around alertly, asking in a low voice.
"Did you find something?"
Number Two was slightly startled, his gaze fixed on Steve's back, the look in his eyes behind the mask flickering.
"Is it that same feeling from yesterday, Number One?"
Steve didn't answer immediately. He stood there, his brows tightly locked together.
The moment he stepped out of the Conference Room's range, he clearly felt as if his soul was being tightly wound by some extremely cold silk threads, and then something incredibly minute was forcibly pulled away.
That feeling wasn't like physical pain, but rather a sense of emptiness originating from his very essence.
It was as if a tiny fragment of a memory, or some emotional anchor, was being silently stripped away by the rules of this world.
"Yes."
Steve took a deep breath, suppressing that tremor deep in his soul. He turned around, his eyes behind the mask reflecting a heart-chilling coldness as he spoke to the two behind him.
"I felt it again. Something is being pulled out of my body—to be precise, out of my soul."
Hearing this, Number Three was instantly bewildered and looked at her hands in confusion.
"Pulled out? How come I didn't feel anything?"
Number Two looked solemn. He walked quickly to Steve's side and said in a low voice.
"Number One, tell us about this feeling in detail. You suddenly stopped outside the church yesterday saying you felt something strange, and now it's happening again as soon as we leave the Conference Room? We are all Steve, so why is it that only you have this reaction while we sense nothing?"
"Because I have a trump card that you don't."
Steve naturally knew it was because of the heart of faith, whose status transcended the rules of this Paranormal World, that allowed him to be alert to this subtle stripping process.
Number Two and Number Three were merely mirror images created by the Ghost Domain's rules; their soul origins had long been assimilated by this domain, so they naturally couldn't feel this slow, frog-in-boiling-water style of deprivation.
"I can't say exactly what it is, but anyway, after leaving the absolute safe zone where the Conference Room is, it feels like something is draining from my soul."
"Like memories?"
Hearing this description, Number Two's expression under the mask instantly turned extremely grim.
"Yesterday at this time too..."
Number Two muttered to himself, his brain beginning to perform frantic logical deductions.
"As long as one leaves the Conference Room, this extraction begins? Could it be that this is also part of the clear conditions? Or is this the core killing rule of this SSS-rank Ghost Domain?"
"Number One."
Number Two suddenly looked up, his tone urgent.
"You must pay close attention to this feeling; it's definitely related to clearing the domain. This Ghost Domain isn't just forcing us to kill each other, it's invisibly erasing some part of our existence."
Steve nodded heavily.
"I understand."
The three of them set off again, heading deeper into the main building of the Ancient Mansion.
Meanwhile, at the Fortress Command Center.
The entire hall was silent; everyone's gaze was fixed intently on the largest holographic screen in the center.
Randy stood with his hands behind his back, his brow furrowed deeply into a frown.
Looking at Steve's words on the screen, a storm of emotions surged in his heart.
"Something is being extracted from the soul?"
Randy recalled the scene where Muriel suddenly clutched her chest and said with a pale face that Steve's things were lost, and a layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.
"The heart of the angel and the heart of faith are embryonic forms of godhood from the same source; there is a cross-dimensional resonance between them. Muriel's heart of the angel felt it, and Steve felt it too."
Randy turned abruptly and inquired at the communication desk.
"What exactly did Steve lose? Does the Think Tank have any analysis results?"
A leading psychology expert from the Think Tank stood up.
"Chief, based on Director Steve's description of memory or emotional loss, combined with the name of the Ghost Domain, 'seven days together', we speculate that this is a soul assimilation rule."
"If Director Steve stays in this Ghost Domain for the full seven days, what he loses might be all his memories, emotions, and personality as Steve. By then, he will completely become a walking corpse."
"Hiss."
The sound of collective gasps echoed through the entire Command Center.
"Quickly, switch the surveillance to Muriel's perspective immediately."
Randy made a prompt decision and shouted the order.
"See where she is now. She rushed out recklessly just now; we absolutely cannot let anything happen to her as well."
"Yes, sir."
The operator's fingers turned into a blur on the keyboard.
Soon, a new image was split onto the left side of the large screen.
In the image, a dazzling golden light was streaking through the night sky of the wasteland at a terrifying supersonic speed, leaving a long trail behind it.
It was none other than Muriel, who had already unfolded her Eight Wings of Light and Darkness and pushed her speed to the limit!
Her goal was very clear, pointing directly at that cross-world Portal emitting a grayish-white light that led to the Paranormal World!
"She has arrived."
On the screen, Muriel's figure paused abruptly for half a second before the Portal, her beautiful yet cold face filled with determination.
Then, without any hesitation, she plunged headfirst into that bottomless vortex.
"Quickly, switch to the perspective of the Zombie on the side of the Paranormal World Portal."
The screen flickered again.
This time, the perspective came from a Fifth-Order Zombie left near the Paranormal World Portal as a surveillance scout.
At this moment, this Zombie was like a statue, frozen in place, maintaining its posture of looking toward the Portal.
Around it, falling leaves were suspended in mid-air, and raised dust remained motionless.
This was the SSS-rank time-space stasis domain that covered the entire world.
"Buzz!"
Just as everyone was staring intently at the screen, the originally dead-silent Portal suddenly rippled with intense spatial fluctuations.
Immediately after, Muriel's figure, enveloped in divine golden light, charged directly out of the light screen.
"She's in."
Someone in the Command Center exclaimed.
However, in the next second, everyone's hearts sank to their lowest point.
As soon as Muriel stepped out of the Portal, the invisible force of rules covering the entire world crashed down like Mount Tai.
The dazzling golden light on her body suddenly dimmed, and her high-speed charging body seemed to hit an invisible wall, instantly becoming frozen in mid-air.
Her wings stopped flapping, and even her flying hair froze at that moment.
"It's over..."
Randy closed his eyes in pain, his fists clenched tightly.
Could even Muriel, who had already broken through to the Seventh-Order, not move under the absolute stasis rules of this SSS-rank Ghost Domain?!
If even she was restricted so tightly, who else could save Steve, who was trapped in the deepest part?
"There's no hope; these rules are too overbearing."
Several staff officers' faces were ashen.
However.
Just as everyone fell into despair, Muriel, frozen in mid-air, was roaring frantically in her heart.
"Move! Move for me!"
She could clearly feel that as time passed, the throbbing from the heart of the angel in her chest grew weaker and weaker—that was the signal that Steve's soul was being extracted again.
"Steve is waiting for me; he's still waiting for me to go back and marry him..."
"If I don't go now, and Steve stays here for five days, he will forget me forever."
"Never!"
Muriel's eyes instantly turned blood-red.
Under extreme anxiety and longing for her lover, the perfectly balanced power of light and darkness within her body suddenly began to run wild violently.
Buzz!
Amidst the pure divine golden light on her body, a sliver of profound darkness suddenly and eerily seeped out.
That darkness was not evil, but a form of ultimate fall, willing to become an Asura to protect the love in her heart.
The golden light and black light began to interweave and fuse frantically.
A chaotic power that was both divine and evil, both compassionate and full of destructive aura, awakened explosively within Muriel's body.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The heart of the angel in her chest began to beat frantically at a frequency that exceeded all limits.
Every beat felt as if it were striking against the barriers of the world's rules.
"Break for me!"
As Muriel let out a heart-wrenching roar in her heart.
Boom!
A visible golden shockwave erupted from her body, slamming fiercely against the viscous static space around her.
Crack.
Accompanying an extremely faint yet clear cracking sound that was like thunder in the dead world.
The time-space stasis domain binding the three-meter radius around Muriel actually showed spiderweb-like cracks.