Chapter 182: 【Mine】
【Ding! Congratulations to the anchor for completing the reward! The reward points have been credited to your account!】
The brightness of the prop quickly dissipated after reaching its peak.
The surrounding darkness began to move again like a living thing, rapidly growing larger. The man’s body was constructed with crimson threads, his light golden eyes gazing at the young man not far away, like a snake locking onto its prey with its gaze.
“!”
Wen Jianyan instinctively took a step back.
After a brief shock, his blank mind began to rapidly spin again.
How could this be?!
Apart from the emblem of the “Ouroboros,” there was no clue in the entire instance of the Ping An Asylum that could be related to the other party… More importantly, Wen Jianyan felt that throughout the Fantasy Amusement Park, he had maintained a somewhat “good” relationship with the other party; apart from some underhanded actions, at least on the surface, he had completed the task of finding the fragments perfectly.
Since entering this instance, the other party not only had never contacted him, his bishop, but also had not given him any tasks like in the previous instance…
Suddenly, the light went out abruptly, replaced by boundless darkness.
Before Wen Jianyan could make sense of it all, he was fiercely startled by the sudden change in light and shadow. His whole body subconsciously leaned backward, and the back of his head made a dull sound as it hit the wooden board.
“Hmm!”
He groaned.
The narrow space was filled with his rapid breaths, accompanied by the pounding sound of his heart in his ears.
Wen Jianyan, still shaken, lifted his eyes through the cracks in the wooden boards, barely able to discern the dim and cramped space, feeling the hardness of the wooden chair beneath him.
The air carried a heavy, almost metallic scent, like blood-soaked wood.
It was then that he realized he had returned to the initial confession room, away from the previous special scene.
“…”
Wen Jianyan took a long, slow breath, feeling the tension in his muscles suddenly dissipate.
Only then did he belatedly realize that his back was covered in a layer of cold sweat, with the thin fabric clinging tightly to his skin, creating a strange sensation.
Familiar announcements echoed in his ears.
【Ding! the special scene task completed. Special line unlocked: Reward points: 10,000.】
【Exploration progress: 89%; Reward points: 10,000.】
【Current storyline modification level: 94%; Reward points: 80,000.】
【Ding! Congratulations to the anchor for obtaining the hidden item (legendary) in the subplot.】
【Collection rate: 9/10】
Though Wen Jianyan was extremely curious about the legendary-level item in the subplot, his immediate priority was to leave the confession room and meet up with his teammates.
He stood up and walked toward the door of the confession room.
Wen Jianyan raised his hand and pressed it against the door handle, pushing the door outward. Dim light seeped through the cracks, illuminating the back of his hand gripping the handle and the dark sleeve hanging from his wrist.
…Wait.
Wen Jianyan suddenly froze, realizing that his clothes hadn’t changed. He was still wearing the same black priestly robe as before, without reverting to the clothes he had on when he entered.
Something was wrong.
Logically speaking, it shouldn’t be like this…
An ominous feeling surged in his heart, bringing about a strong, almost instinctive sense of panic.
The next moment, a powerful, almost eerie force suddenly seized the wooden door in front of him, pulling it outward!
The immense force sent Wen Jianyan stumbling forward, barely managing to stop himself from plunging forward due to the inertia.
The bright light descended from above, illuminating the church in front of him.
It wasn’t an underground tomb, but…
A chapel.
The dimly lit space was filled with a reddish hue emanating from the large windows overhead, where glimpses of the crimson sky could be seen. Shadows cut through the entire church, casting an eerie atmosphere. Rows of wooden pews stretched out, and in the third row from the edge, Wen Jianyan spotted two familiar figures.
They remained motionless, heads bowed, their foreheads resting on clasped hands, as if deep in prayer.
The moment he saw the two whose lives or deaths were unknown, Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.
He realized that he was now in the peculiar space within the chapel… the same place where Luce and the other person had vanished.
How could this be?!
The task had been completed, and the scene had ended, so why had he not returned to the underground tomb but instead found himself in what was highly likely an extradimensional chapel?
The young man’s face grew even paler, his amber eyes half-hidden beneath his lashes, his lips pressed tightly together, forming a thin, bloodless line.
With silver-white hair and clad in a black priest’s robe, his slender figure seemed to blend seamlessly into the chapel, as if he belonged there.
Drip, drip.
The sound of liquid dripping echoed nearby.
“!”
Wen Jianyan trembled all over, like a startled bird, swiftly turning his head in the direction of the sound.
What met his gaze was “Wu Zhu.”
He still retained his partially shattered appearance, with almost half of his face, chest, arms, and legs appearing as if they were made of void, with faint crimson threads floating, resembling a broken but complete porcelain figure. Through this void, one could see the cross looming behind him.
His face was only half-intact, devoid of any expression, under the blood-red sky, which sent shivers down one’s spine.
Wen Jianyan’s breath caught in his throat.
He seemed to suddenly realize something and sharply turned his head to look behind him.
In the vast, dark confession room, a layer of crimson membrane had covered everything at some point.
The delicate neurons interlinked, pulsating as if they possessed life, covering the wooden panels like a membrane that kept invisible threats at bay, seeping in through the cracks along the edges, akin to roots growing from the depths, firmly anchoring the confession room in place.
At that moment, Wen Jianyan seemed to understand why, despite completing the task, he hadn’t left.
***
Outside the underground tomb, by the confession room.
This was probably the longest ten minutes everyone had ever experienced.
During this time, the anchors waiting didn’t just sit idle. They scattered around, attempting to find any clues they could in the underground tomb during these brief ten minutes. This way, even if Wen Jianyan didn’t leave the confession room after ten minutes, they would have a better chance of survival.
However, as time passed, they couldn’t help but glance toward the confession room, their expressions a mix of anticipation and fear.
These ten minutes were excruciating, each second ticking away like a noose tightening around their throats, making it difficult to breathe.
No matter how complex the emotions swirling in their hearts, or how tense and anxious they felt, the critical moment finally arrived.
With only 20 seconds left until the ten-minute mark, all the anchors instinctively gathered around the confession room.
They held their breath, waiting anxiously.
Although they had agreed upon fifteen minutes with Wen Jianyan, according to Shao Yao’s earlier explanation, the ten-minute mark was the true moment of life and death. Each of them knew this very well. The extra five minutes were just a precautionary measure. If, at this moment, the confession room’s door slid open to reveal emptiness, then the outcome would be sealed.
Several hearts tightened. They started to count down silently, their eyes fixed on the tightly closed wooden door, not daring to blink even as their eyeballs feel dry, fearing to miss even a single second.
…5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Ten minutes passed.
But nothing happened.
Wen Jianyan didn’t emerge from the confession room, and the door didn’t slide open automatically as it had several times before. Instead, it remained motionless, as if welded shut.
The few people exchanged astonished glances, their faces mirroring the same bewilderment.
“What now?” Su Cheng turned to Shao Yao beside him, seemingly hoping for an explanation of the current situation, but Shao Yao looked just as puzzled.
She hesitated, shaking her head. “I… I’m not sure. I’ve never encountered this situation before.”
“Well, isn’t this still a good thing?”
Blond said optimistically, holding onto a glimmer of hope. “At least it didn’t come out empty like it did a few times before. That must mean he’s still alive, right?”
Su Cheng took a deep breath, clasping his sweaty palms.
“It must be.”
It must be.
***
Wen Jianyan turned his head, feeling a chill run down his spine as he looked at the “person” in the distance, goosebumps rising all over his body.
Was that really “Wu Zhu” standing before him?
In the previous instance, he had seen fragments of Wu Zhu without self-awareness, even just a small soul fragment, yet his image had been complete, almost causing Wen Jianyan to mistake him for the real person. But this time… the difference was too great compared to before.
Wen Jianyan’s mind flashed back to the terrifying scene he had witnessed in room 05, causing his heart to race.
In the light of the flare, the huge, crimson brain floated in the liquid, raising and falling with the currents.
Ignoring the overly familiar “male” figure it eventually constructed, the fine details, like neuron-like synapses, and what he had seen in the rooftop laboratory, including the “tentacles” that had gradually engulfed the asylum after the instance mutation, were almost identical.
Even more alarming was…
The system determined that the audience’s requested task had been completed by him.
These tasks revolved around the identity and appearance of “05,” and upon seeing “Wu Zhu,” or more accurately, upon seeing the big brain, Wen Jianyan’s ears began to ring with the sound of the reward task points being credited.
In other words, the system determined that he was “05.”
One step, two steps, three steps.
As “Wu Zhu” approached, Wen Jianyan’s body tensed, instinctively retreating until his back hit the confessional room with a muffled thud.
In just a few moments, the figure had already stood before him.
“…”
Wen Jianyan pursed his lips together, staring at him intently. Every muscle and every nerve in his body were adjusted to face the danger. He was evaluating, considering, speculating, and trying to piece together the truth from the scattered clues he had gathered so far.
An unexpected but logical guess emerged in his mind.
Perhaps the one standing before him now wasn’t God the Father, but “05” from this instance.
He had never shown himself; he almost never appeared in the Ping An Asylum. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t “he,” but “it”:
A brain immersed in nutrient solution.
And the face of “Wu Zhu” was just the image it had chosen for itself.
After all, the body before him was precisely what Wen Jianyan has watched being woven together by neurons with his own eyes.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:
[Dammit… What’s going on?!]
[I don’t know either!]
[Is that 05? Or is that brain 05? Why does he look so much like that boss who tangled with the anchor for several insatnces?!]
[I just checked. The bounty mission I posted has been completed, probably around the time the anchor threw the flare. I guess that brain is 05; as for the other question… I’m not sure. Maybe they think this face looks good?]
[Hahahaha, indeed quite handsome!]
05 lowered his head, his face half-missing, as he looked down at the priest in front of him. He opened his mouth, but the vocal cords of this body seemed non-existent. The incomplete lips slowly moved, seemingly attempting to say something.
“…”
Realizing he couldn’t produce any sound, he quickly stopped trying.
05 remained silent and reached for Wen Jianyan’s hand.
The young man’s fingers trembled slightly, as if instinctively wanting to retract, but he forcibly restrained himself, letting the other person hold his hand, while cold fingertips wrote in his palm:
【mine】
He paused, then continued writing:
【eat】
Sensing the strong aversion and almost hostile resistance beneath his palm, 05 hesitated, vigorously wiping Wen Jianyan’s palm with his fingers, as if trying to erase the unintentionally dangerous words he had just left behind.
He wrote again:
【marry】
“???”
Wen Jianyan blinked slowly, staring at the person in front of him with a rare, dumbfounded expression.
Wait?
What is this?
What is this guy writing?
The next moment, deafening bells rang out!
“Dang—Dang—Dang—”
The sound of the bells seemed to have a strong suppressive effect on 05; his expression of pain was evident on his partially missing face.
The humanoid figure, already filled with fragments, began to disperse slightly under the vibrations of the sound waves, almost struggling to maintain its human form. Crimson neurons spread from his body, gradually diffusing outward.
The tolling bells seemed to rapidly weaken 05’s control over the church.
Wen Jianyan had already completed his mission and should have been sent away from the scene after its completion. However, due to 05’s interference halfway through, he was forcefully left behind.
The membrane covering the confession room struggled, writhing and trembling, loosening its grip.
With the change in power dynamics, familiar system alert sounds rang in his ears.
【Reconnecting】
【Scene is ending; please wait patiently】
【10, 9, 8…】
This was a perfect opportunity!
Accompanied by the tolling bells, 05’s body moved backward, creating some distance between them.
Seizing the moment, Wen Jianyan activated his prop, and a slender metal claw shot out toward one of the humans praying with their heads bowed, pulling them up and backward.
05’s humanoid body lost its form, reverting back to its original crimson tentacles formed by neurons. It seemed to want to detain the human in front of it, tightly wrapping around their arms.
Cold and slippery, it slowly coiled around his wrist, palm, and fingers, like the tongue of some creature, licking the patterns in his palm and the thin skin between his fingers.
Wen Jianyan’s pupils contracted.
Oh no!
He suddenly remembered what kind of effect these neurons might have on humans upon contact… this could turn mental illnesses into reality!
【3, 2, 1】
***
Time passed in waiting, and so did faith and hope.
One minute, two minutes, three minutes.
The tightly closed confession room still showed no sign of change.
Soon, five minutes came to an end, marking the signal for their parting ways according to their agreement with Wen Jianyan.
Su Cheng’s eyes were fixed firmly on the closed door in front of him, not saying a word.
If the door had slid open as Shao Yao had said, he would fulfill his promise without hesitation. But… the current situation gave him an inexplicable hope.
“Just a little longer,” Su Cheng said with some difficulty. “Three more minutes.”
“…”
Shao Yao took a deep breath and nodded.
She understood Su Cheng’s current feelings. If her own teammate was trapped inside, she wouldn’t be able to let go either.
Suddenly, without warning, a heavy tolling bell rang from above.
“Dang—Dang—Dang—”
The sound was penetrating, coming from the ceiling, causing the ground to tremble slightly.
Everyone was startled, subconsciously looking up.
Oh no, here it comes again!
Although Wen Jianyan had warned them that the pace of the instance would accelerate, they hadn’t expected the bell to come so quickly this time!
Just as they were tense, expecting the worst, something even more unexpected happened!
With a loud “bang!” the door of the confession room was forcefully pushed open from the inside.
The next moment, a young man stumbled out from within.
His face was pale, with beads of sweat dotting his forehead and strands of silver-white hair sticking to his cheeks. His chest heaved rapidly, and he looked particularly disheveled. In his hands, he still held a limp figure, its condition uncertain.
The few waiting outside the confession room were startled by the sudden appearance.
“!!” Su Cheng’s eyes lit up, his excitement causing his words to jumble and his speech to become chaotic. “I knew it, I knew it…”
“Hurry…”
Wen Jianyan released his grip, allowing the body to collapse with a thud at his feet.
He lifted the pale face with brows furrowed and pupils slightly dilated, as if enduring something, constantly resisting against some unknown enemy. His voice was hoarse, his speech sluggish, as if every word required considerable thought.
“In my pocket… antidote!”
—Antidote!
Chapter 182: 【Mine】
【Ding! Congratulations to the anchor for completing the reward! The reward points have been credited to your account!】
The brightness of the prop quickly dissipated after reaching its peak.
The surrounding darkness began to move again like a living thing, rapidly growing larger. The man’s body was constructed with crimson threads, his light golden eyes gazing at the young man not far away, like a snake locking onto its prey with its gaze.
“!”
Wen Jianyan instinctively took a step back.
After a brief shock, his blank mind began to rapidly spin again.
How could this be?!
Apart from the emblem of the “Ouroboros,” there was no clue in the entire instance of the Ping An Asylum that could be related to the other party… More importantly, Wen Jianyan felt that throughout the Fantasy Amusement Park, he had maintained a somewhat “good” relationship with the other party; apart from some underhanded actions, at least on the surface, he had completed the task of finding the fragments perfectly.
Since entering this instance, the other party not only had never contacted him, his bishop, but also had not given him any tasks like in the previous instance…
Suddenly, the light went out abruptly, replaced by boundless darkness.
Before Wen Jianyan could make sense of it all, he was fiercely startled by the sudden change in light and shadow. His whole body subconsciously leaned backward, and the back of his head made a dull sound as it hit the wooden board.
“Hmm!”
He groaned.
The narrow space was filled with his rapid breaths, accompanied by the pounding sound of his heart in his ears.
Wen Jianyan, still shaken, lifted his eyes through the cracks in the wooden boards, barely able to discern the dim and cramped space, feeling the hardness of the wooden chair beneath him.
The air carried a heavy, almost metallic scent, like blood-soaked wood.
It was then that he realized he had returned to the initial confession room, away from the previous special scene.
“…”
Wen Jianyan took a long, slow breath, feeling the tension in his muscles suddenly dissipate.
Only then did he belatedly realize that his back was covered in a layer of cold sweat, with the thin fabric clinging tightly to his skin, creating a strange sensation.
Familiar announcements echoed in his ears.
【Ding! the special scene task completed. Special line unlocked: Reward points: 10,000.】
【Exploration progress: 89%; Reward points: 10,000.】
【Current storyline modification level: 94%; Reward points: 80,000.】
【Ding! Congratulations to the anchor for obtaining the hidden item (legendary) in the subplot.】
【Collection rate: 9/10】
Though Wen Jianyan was extremely curious about the legendary-level item in the subplot, his immediate priority was to leave the confession room and meet up with his teammates.
He stood up and walked toward the door of the confession room.
Wen Jianyan raised his hand and pressed it against the door handle, pushing the door outward. Dim light seeped through the cracks, illuminating the back of his hand gripping the handle and the dark sleeve hanging from his wrist.
…Wait.
Wen Jianyan suddenly froze, realizing that his clothes hadn’t changed. He was still wearing the same black priestly robe as before, without reverting to the clothes he had on when he entered.
Something was wrong.
Logically speaking, it shouldn’t be like this…
An ominous feeling surged in his heart, bringing about a strong, almost instinctive sense of panic.
The next moment, a powerful, almost eerie force suddenly seized the wooden door in front of him, pulling it outward!
The immense force sent Wen Jianyan stumbling forward, barely managing to stop himself from plunging forward due to the inertia.
The bright light descended from above, illuminating the church in front of him.
It wasn’t an underground tomb, but…
A chapel.
The dimly lit space was filled with a reddish hue emanating from the large windows overhead, where glimpses of the crimson sky could be seen. Shadows cut through the entire church, casting an eerie atmosphere. Rows of wooden pews stretched out, and in the third row from the edge, Wen Jianyan spotted two familiar figures.
They remained motionless, heads bowed, their foreheads resting on clasped hands, as if deep in prayer.
The moment he saw the two whose lives or deaths were unknown, Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.
He realized that he was now in the peculiar space within the chapel… the same place where Luce and the other person had vanished.
How could this be?!
The task had been completed, and the scene had ended, so why had he not returned to the underground tomb but instead found himself in what was highly likely an extradimensional chapel?
The young man’s face grew even paler, his amber eyes half-hidden beneath his lashes, his lips pressed tightly together, forming a thin, bloodless line.
With silver-white hair and clad in a black priest’s robe, his slender figure seemed to blend seamlessly into the chapel, as if he belonged there.
Drip, drip.
The sound of liquid dripping echoed nearby.
“!”
Wen Jianyan trembled all over, like a startled bird, swiftly turning his head in the direction of the sound.
What met his gaze was “Wu Zhu.”
He still retained his partially shattered appearance, with almost half of his face, chest, arms, and legs appearing as if they were made of void, with faint crimson threads floating, resembling a broken but complete porcelain figure. Through this void, one could see the cross looming behind him.
His face was only half-intact, devoid of any expression, under the blood-red sky, which sent shivers down one’s spine.
Wen Jianyan’s breath caught in his throat.
He seemed to suddenly realize something and sharply turned his head to look behind him.
In the vast, dark confession room, a layer of crimson membrane had covered everything at some point.
The delicate neurons interlinked, pulsating as if they possessed life, covering the wooden panels like a membrane that kept invisible threats at bay, seeping in through the cracks along the edges, akin to roots growing from the depths, firmly anchoring the confession room in place.
At that moment, Wen Jianyan seemed to understand why, despite completing the task, he hadn’t left.
***
Outside the underground tomb, by the confession room.
This was probably the longest ten minutes everyone had ever experienced.
During this time, the anchors waiting didn’t just sit idle. They scattered around, attempting to find any clues they could in the underground tomb during these brief ten minutes. This way, even if Wen Jianyan didn’t leave the confession room after ten minutes, they would have a better chance of survival.
However, as time passed, they couldn’t help but glance toward the confession room, their expressions a mix of anticipation and fear.
These ten minutes were excruciating, each second ticking away like a noose tightening around their throats, making it difficult to breathe.
No matter how complex the emotions swirling in their hearts, or how tense and anxious they felt, the critical moment finally arrived.
With only 20 seconds left until the ten-minute mark, all the anchors instinctively gathered around the confession room.
They held their breath, waiting anxiously.
Although they had agreed upon fifteen minutes with Wen Jianyan, according to Shao Yao’s earlier explanation, the ten-minute mark was the true moment of life and death. Each of them knew this very well. The extra five minutes were just a precautionary measure. If, at this moment, the confession room’s door slid open to reveal emptiness, then the outcome would be sealed.
Several hearts tightened. They started to count down silently, their eyes fixed on the tightly closed wooden door, not daring to blink even as their eyeballs feel dry, fearing to miss even a single second.
…5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Ten minutes passed.
But nothing happened.
Wen Jianyan didn’t emerge from the confession room, and the door didn’t slide open automatically as it had several times before. Instead, it remained motionless, as if welded shut.
The few people exchanged astonished glances, their faces mirroring the same bewilderment.
“What now?” Su Cheng turned to Shao Yao beside him, seemingly hoping for an explanation of the current situation, but Shao Yao looked just as puzzled.
She hesitated, shaking her head. “I… I’m not sure. I’ve never encountered this situation before.”
“Well, isn’t this still a good thing?”
Blond said optimistically, holding onto a glimmer of hope. “At least it didn’t come out empty like it did a few times before. That must mean he’s still alive, right?”
Su Cheng took a deep breath, clasping his sweaty palms.
“It must be.”
It must be.
***
Wen Jianyan turned his head, feeling a chill run down his spine as he looked at the “person” in the distance, goosebumps rising all over his body.
Was that really “Wu Zhu” standing before him?
In the previous instance, he had seen fragments of Wu Zhu without self-awareness, even just a small soul fragment, yet his image had been complete, almost causing Wen Jianyan to mistake him for the real person. But this time… the difference was too great compared to before.
Wen Jianyan’s mind flashed back to the terrifying scene he had witnessed in room 05, causing his heart to race.
In the light of the flare, the huge, crimson brain floated in the liquid, raising and falling with the currents.
Ignoring the overly familiar “male” figure it eventually constructed, the fine details, like neuron-like synapses, and what he had seen in the rooftop laboratory, including the “tentacles” that had gradually engulfed the asylum after the instance mutation, were almost identical.
Even more alarming was…
The system determined that the audience’s requested task had been completed by him.
These tasks revolved around the identity and appearance of “05,” and upon seeing “Wu Zhu,” or more accurately, upon seeing the big brain, Wen Jianyan’s ears began to ring with the sound of the reward task points being credited.
In other words, the system determined that he was “05.”
One step, two steps, three steps.
As “Wu Zhu” approached, Wen Jianyan’s body tensed, instinctively retreating until his back hit the confessional room with a muffled thud.
In just a few moments, the figure had already stood before him.
“…”
Wen Jianyan pursed his lips together, staring at him intently. Every muscle and every nerve in his body were adjusted to face the danger. He was evaluating, considering, speculating, and trying to piece together the truth from the scattered clues he had gathered so far.
An unexpected but logical guess emerged in his mind.
Perhaps the one standing before him now wasn’t God the Father, but “05” from this instance.
He had never shown himself; he almost never appeared in the Ping An Asylum. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t “he,” but “it”:
A brain immersed in nutrient solution.
And the face of “Wu Zhu” was just the image it had chosen for itself.
After all, the body before him was precisely what Wen Jianyan has watched being woven together by neurons with his own eyes.
In the “Integrity First” live broadcast room:
[Dammit… What’s going on?!]
[I don’t know either!]
[Is that 05? Or is that brain 05? Why does he look so much like that boss who tangled with the anchor for several insatnces?!]
[I just checked. The bounty mission I posted has been completed, probably around the time the anchor threw the flare. I guess that brain is 05; as for the other question… I’m not sure. Maybe they think this face looks good?]
[Hahahaha, indeed quite handsome!]
05 lowered his head, his face half-missing, as he looked down at the priest in front of him. He opened his mouth, but the vocal cords of this body seemed non-existent. The incomplete lips slowly moved, seemingly attempting to say something.
“…”
Realizing he couldn’t produce any sound, he quickly stopped trying.
05 remained silent and reached for Wen Jianyan’s hand.
The young man’s fingers trembled slightly, as if instinctively wanting to retract, but he forcibly restrained himself, letting the other person hold his hand, while cold fingertips wrote in his palm:
【mine】
He paused, then continued writing:
【eat】
Sensing the strong aversion and almost hostile resistance beneath his palm, 05 hesitated, vigorously wiping Wen Jianyan’s palm with his fingers, as if trying to erase the unintentionally dangerous words he had just left behind.
He wrote again:
【marry】
“???”
Wen Jianyan blinked slowly, staring at the person in front of him with a rare, dumbfounded expression.
Wait?
What is this?
What is this guy writing?
The next moment, deafening bells rang out!
“Dang—Dang—Dang—”
The sound of the bells seemed to have a strong suppressive effect on 05; his expression of pain was evident on his partially missing face.
The humanoid figure, already filled with fragments, began to disperse slightly under the vibrations of the sound waves, almost struggling to maintain its human form. Crimson neurons spread from his body, gradually diffusing outward.
The tolling bells seemed to rapidly weaken 05’s control over the church.
Wen Jianyan had already completed his mission and should have been sent away from the scene after its completion. However, due to 05’s interference halfway through, he was forcefully left behind.
The membrane covering the confession room struggled, writhing and trembling, loosening its grip.
With the change in power dynamics, familiar system alert sounds rang in his ears.
【Reconnecting】
【Scene is ending; please wait patiently】
【10, 9, 8…】
This was a perfect opportunity!
Accompanied by the tolling bells, 05’s body moved backward, creating some distance between them.
Seizing the moment, Wen Jianyan activated his prop, and a slender metal claw shot out toward one of the humans praying with their heads bowed, pulling them up and backward.
05’s humanoid body lost its form, reverting back to its original crimson tentacles formed by neurons. It seemed to want to detain the human in front of it, tightly wrapping around their arms.
Cold and slippery, it slowly coiled around his wrist, palm, and fingers, like the tongue of some creature, licking the patterns in his palm and the thin skin between his fingers.
Wen Jianyan’s pupils contracted.
Oh no!
He suddenly remembered what kind of effect these neurons might have on humans upon contact… this could turn mental illnesses into reality!
【3, 2, 1】
***
Time passed in waiting, and so did faith and hope.
One minute, two minutes, three minutes.
The tightly closed confession room still showed no sign of change.
Soon, five minutes came to an end, marking the signal for their parting ways according to their agreement with Wen Jianyan.
Su Cheng’s eyes were fixed firmly on the closed door in front of him, not saying a word.
If the door had slid open as Shao Yao had said, he would fulfill his promise without hesitation. But… the current situation gave him an inexplicable hope.
“Just a little longer,” Su Cheng said with some difficulty. “Three more minutes.”
“…”
Shao Yao took a deep breath and nodded.
She understood Su Cheng’s current feelings. If her own teammate was trapped inside, she wouldn’t be able to let go either.
Suddenly, without warning, a heavy tolling bell rang from above.
“Dang—Dang—Dang—”
The sound was penetrating, coming from the ceiling, causing the ground to tremble slightly.
Everyone was startled, subconsciously looking up.
Oh no, here it comes again!
Although Wen Jianyan had warned them that the pace of the instance would accelerate, they hadn’t expected the bell to come so quickly this time!
Just as they were tense, expecting the worst, something even more unexpected happened!
With a loud “bang!” the door of the confession room was forcefully pushed open from the inside.
The next moment, a young man stumbled out from within.
His face was pale, with beads of sweat dotting his forehead and strands of silver-white hair sticking to his cheeks. His chest heaved rapidly, and he looked particularly disheveled. In his hands, he still held a limp figure, its condition uncertain.
The few waiting outside the confession room were startled by the sudden appearance.
“!!” Su Cheng’s eyes lit up, his excitement causing his words to jumble and his speech to become chaotic. “I knew it, I knew it…”
“Hurry…”
Wen Jianyan released his grip, allowing the body to collapse with a thud at his feet.
He lifted the pale face with brows furrowed and pupils slightly dilated, as if enduring something, constantly resisting against some unknown enemy. His voice was hoarse, his speech sluggish, as if every word required considerable thought.
“In my pocket… antidote!”
—Antidote!
