1610

Chapter 1611: The Arduous and Extraordinary Path of Infection

At that, Lin Sanjiu’s hair stood on end, and she s.h.i.+vered with cold—even though she had a faint feeling that things wouldn’t end smoothly, she still couldn’t help but feel full of astonishment and doubt at this moment. The players had transformed, too?

Cuining’s transformation and the players’ transformation were two entirely different matters; she didn’t believe that Wu Yiliu wouldn’t know this. Cuining was controlled, but the players were not; Wu Yiliu could easily end Cuining’s humiliated life before leaving, but he had no way of dealing with the players. So, wouldn’t the transformed players infect an entire world after the pocket dimension ended?

Strangely enough, as her mind was filled with shock and confusion, she could still hear Wu Yiliu’s thoughts at the same time; this man, whom she had become very familiar with, was pondering the same question.

Could the transformation spread?

The answer was it might, or it might not; the latter was more likely.

An even more crucial question was, if this world became gradually occupied by more and more Changelings like his old home world, would he be able to deal with it in the same way?

Wu Yiliu was sitting in a single sofa by the window, his fingers interlaced under his chin, lost in thought as his eyes gazed at the distant mountains covered by a soft, misty sky. The grey sky, light and rolling like fog, contrasted with the thick, stagnant clouds that refused to be carried away, heavily blanketing the forest.

Among the dark and profound woods, like a frozen oil painting that would never change with time, not a single green leaf was moved by the wind. Only on rare occasions could he see half a shadow flash by from the deep shadows of the trees; those were fragments of the players’ shadows, a slight warning and hint from the pocket dimension.

In theory, the further from the camping house, the safer. Yet, the players congregated around two hundred meters from the house, not venturing far.

When they had first entered the pocket dimension, the four of them held an overwhelming advantage, believing they were dealing with fish on a chopping board; none of them expected the situation to be pushed to this point, having to hide in the shadows, biding their time and waiting for the teleportation. Not only had they lost the “meat chickens” (ordinary humans) they could control, but they might also face difficulties from the Zhai Hospital after teleportation; just thinking about it felt extremely unfortunate.

But none of them had antic.i.p.ated that this was far from the conclusion Wu Yiliu had arranged for them.

Changelings all had one overarching goal, and that was to spread the transformation.

Although two of the players had heard Wu Yiliu’s story, they were not firsthand witnesses and likely couldn’t truly grasp this point: once a Changeling appeared in a pocket dimension, it would no longer be a game between players and “meat chickens”—it would become a battle between Changelings and normal people.

When Cuining returned from her walk, Abby locked her back in the transparent box; Wu Yiliu went to the box and, placing a hand on it, smiled slightly and said, “You did well.”

Cuining leaned against the inside of the box, her shoulder tilted. Raising her hand, she pressed it against the gla.s.s where his hand was, and with a sticky and blurry smile, said, “Then come in and give me a reward.”

Wu Yiliu turned a deaf ear. “You told him what I asked you to, didn’t you?”

“You should know better than anyone,” Cuining said, pressing against the gla.s.s so that the hot, damp breath from her mouth was blocked. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? Even from that far, I can feel your gaze…”

Wu Yiliu stared at her for a few seconds. “And?”

Cuining sighed dramatically.

She unb.u.t.toned her collar, deliberately and slowly taking out a folded piece of paper. She had no real reason to hide the paper; it was just another way to tempt Wu Yiliu; Abby looked and involuntarily bit her lip.

“I can’t hear him speak, so I have to communicate like this. It’s such a ha.s.sle,” Cuining said, sticking the paper with the scribbled handwriting on the gla.s.s. “He says he knows and will try to trick other players into coming in the day after tomorrow at this time. But you have to act quickly then, okay?”

Wu Yiliu looked carefully at the writing on the paper, nodding only when he saw no issues.

As he turned to leave, he suddenly stopped, removing his earplugs. His eyes looked at Cuining in the transparent box, but his words were directed at Abby on the side, “You know, if I could, I would surely free her. But I have no other way.”

The woman inside the box was taken aback. “What?”

Abby let out a soft sigh.

“I know,” she said, also looking at Cuining. After enduring these hard two months, her expression was always tinged with an inescapable weariness. “I just… I don’t like seeing her like this. She used to be a quite gentle girl. She even asked me once about where my parents were from in the Twelve Worlds Centrum, and if they were doing well.”

Wu Yiliu had no answer for her — he was the one who had created this situation, though the cause was not on him. Even if Cuining were not infected, she would still be a brainwashed puppet; rather than wasting her, her current state was more advantageous to them.

He had only done what he had to do. He felt regret, but no guilt. Of course, if he could go back two months, he might kill Cuining and choose to keep Pence.

Without another word, Wu Yiliu put his earplugs back in and walked away, sitting down at the far end of the living room, continuing to gaze at the forest outside.

For the past two months, most of his time was spent like this, sitting in front of the gla.s.s window, quietly and patiently gazing at the vast, gloomy, and serene forest. Abby often curled up on the couch in the corner of his eye, either sleeping or daydreaming, sometimes sitting beside him, gazing out the window together.

The pocket dimension would occasionally reveal glimpses of the players, serving as a tip and warning against the puppets. The two of them had seen many fragmented images of players and even managed to reconstruct four incomplete portraits.

However, merely discovering the players’ locations and piecing together their images was not Wu Yiliu’s main goal.

From the next day on, they did not show their faces at the window for two consecutive days.

The puppets were the only thing the players could see; they had appeared behind the gla.s.s every day, and their sudden absence would surely be noticed.

Wu Yiliu wasn’t sure if the players’ “vision” could see through the house and directly see them; to be safe, he and Abby each used a Special Item to conceal their figures. They hid outside the kitchen back door, peering at the living room — their line of sight crossed the kitchen sink, just able to see Cuining’s gla.s.s box, tinted with the changing colors of the flickering television.

They could not see or hear the players; only under one condition would they know that the players had entered the house.

“Do you think…” Abby whispered, leaning in, “the players will really fall for it?”

“They have no reason not to,” Wu Yiliu answered in the same low tone, “They’re already worried that we lied about the teleportation date and would sneak away earlier. Our sudden disappearance is almost confirmation of their fears. How can they not come to check?”

Abby nodded.

Since the pocket dimension was clearly not over, it meant that at least all the puppets hadn’t been teleported away; according to their agreement, Cuining had already transformed, so she could stabilize the pocket dimension like a Sea-anchoring Divine Needle, preventing it from ending — but when Cuining couldn’t control her transformation, Wu Yiliu never let her out, instead tightly covering her with the four brainwas.h.i.+ng garments.

In other words, since they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, the players couldn’t be one hundred percent certain that Cuining had really transformed. They didn’t know the content of the disc, so they naturally couldn’t be sure that what Cuining recounted during her walks was indeed on the disc — for all they knew, everything might be a deception.

At this time, if someone among the players suddenly proposed to check if Cuining had really transformed to confirm the situation, the suggestion would be quite reasonable and wouldn’t encounter much resistance or opposition.

Once they entered the camping house, there was only one way to confirm that Cuining had really transformed — it would be for a player to whisper a suggestion to her to remove her face mask.

Wu Yiliu was waiting for this signal.

After an unknowable time of breathless waiting, the expressionless Cuining inside the transparent box slowly raised her hand to her forehead, bit by bit pulling the skin from her scalp with a hissing sound.

The unseen players had already gathered in the room, watching intently as Cuining removed her face mask.

Now was the time.

As Abby softly drew in a cold breath, Wu Yiliu closed his eyes and activated [Human Concerto].

Chapter 1611: The Arduous and Extraordinary Path of Infection

At that, Lin Sanjiu’s hair stood on end, and she s.h.i.+vered with cold—even though she had a faint feeling that things wouldn’t end smoothly, she still couldn’t help but feel full of astonishment and doubt at this moment. The players had transformed, too?

Cuining’s transformation and the players’ transformation were two entirely different matters; she didn’t believe that Wu Yiliu wouldn’t know this. Cuining was controlled, but the players were not; Wu Yiliu could easily end Cuining’s humiliated life before leaving, but he had no way of dealing with the players. So, wouldn’t the transformed players infect an entire world after the pocket dimension ended?

Strangely enough, as her mind was filled with shock and confusion, she could still hear Wu Yiliu’s thoughts at the same time; this man, whom she had become very familiar with, was pondering the same question.

Could the transformation spread?

The answer was it might, or it might not; the latter was more likely.

An even more crucial question was, if this world became gradually occupied by more and more Changelings like his old home world, would he be able to deal with it in the same way?

Wu Yiliu was sitting in a single sofa by the window, his fingers interlaced under his chin, lost in thought as his eyes gazed at the distant mountains covered by a soft, misty sky. The grey sky, light and rolling like fog, contrasted with the thick, stagnant clouds that refused to be carried away, heavily blanketing the forest.

Among the dark and profound woods, like a frozen oil painting that would never change with time, not a single green leaf was moved by the wind. Only on rare occasions could he see half a shadow flash by from the deep shadows of the trees; those were fragments of the players’ shadows, a slight warning and hint from the pocket dimension.

In theory, the further from the camping house, the safer. Yet, the players congregated around two hundred meters from the house, not venturing far.

When they had first entered the pocket dimension, the four of them held an overwhelming advantage, believing they were dealing with fish on a chopping board; none of them expected the situation to be pushed to this point, having to hide in the shadows, biding their time and waiting for the teleportation. Not only had they lost the “meat chickens” (ordinary humans) they could control, but they might also face difficulties from the Zhai Hospital after teleportation; just thinking about it felt extremely unfortunate.

But none of them had antic.i.p.ated that this was far from the conclusion Wu Yiliu had arranged for them.

Changelings all had one overarching goal, and that was to spread the transformation.

Although two of the players had heard Wu Yiliu’s story, they were not firsthand witnesses and likely couldn’t truly grasp this point: once a Changeling appeared in a pocket dimension, it would no longer be a game between players and “meat chickens”—it would become a battle between Changelings and normal people.

When Cuining returned from her walk, Abby locked her back in the transparent box; Wu Yiliu went to the box and, placing a hand on it, smiled slightly and said, “You did well.”

Cuining leaned against the inside of the box, her shoulder tilted. Raising her hand, she pressed it against the gla.s.s where his hand was, and with a sticky and blurry smile, said, “Then come in and give me a reward.”

Wu Yiliu turned a deaf ear. “You told him what I asked you to, didn’t you?”

“You should know better than anyone,” Cuining said, pressing against the gla.s.s so that the hot, damp breath from her mouth was blocked. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? Even from that far, I can feel your gaze…”

Wu Yiliu stared at her for a few seconds. “And?”

Cuining sighed dramatically.

She unb.u.t.toned her collar, deliberately and slowly taking out a folded piece of paper. She had no real reason to hide the paper; it was just another way to tempt Wu Yiliu; Abby looked and involuntarily bit her lip.

“I can’t hear him speak, so I have to communicate like this. It’s such a ha.s.sle,” Cuining said, sticking the paper with the scribbled handwriting on the gla.s.s. “He says he knows and will try to trick other players into coming in the day after tomorrow at this time. But you have to act quickly then, okay?”

Wu Yiliu looked carefully at the writing on the paper, nodding only when he saw no issues.

As he turned to leave, he suddenly stopped, removing his earplugs. His eyes looked at Cuining in the transparent box, but his words were directed at Abby on the side, “You know, if I could, I would surely free her. But I have no other way.”

The woman inside the box was taken aback. “What?”

Abby let out a soft sigh.

“I know,” she said, also looking at Cuining. After enduring these hard two months, her expression was always tinged with an inescapable weariness. “I just… I don’t like seeing her like this. She used to be a quite gentle girl. She even asked me once about where my parents were from in the Twelve Worlds Centrum, and if they were doing well.”

Wu Yiliu had no answer for her — he was the one who had created this situation, though the cause was not on him. Even if Cuining were not infected, she would still be a brainwashed puppet; rather than wasting her, her current state was more advantageous to them.

He had only done what he had to do. He felt regret, but no guilt. Of course, if he could go back two months, he might kill Cuining and choose to keep Pence.

Without another word, Wu Yiliu put his earplugs back in and walked away, sitting down at the far end of the living room, continuing to gaze at the forest outside.

For the past two months, most of his time was spent like this, sitting in front of the gla.s.s window, quietly and patiently gazing at the vast, gloomy, and serene forest. Abby often curled up on the couch in the corner of his eye, either sleeping or daydreaming, sometimes sitting beside him, gazing out the window together.

The pocket dimension would occasionally reveal glimpses of the players, serving as a tip and warning against the puppets. The two of them had seen many fragmented images of players and even managed to reconstruct four incomplete portraits.

However, merely discovering the players’ locations and piecing together their images was not Wu Yiliu’s main goal.

From the next day on, they did not show their faces at the window for two consecutive days.

The puppets were the only thing the players could see; they had appeared behind the gla.s.s every day, and their sudden absence would surely be noticed.

Wu Yiliu wasn’t sure if the players’ “vision” could see through the house and directly see them; to be safe, he and Abby each used a Special Item to conceal their figures. They hid outside the kitchen back door, peering at the living room — their line of sight crossed the kitchen sink, just able to see Cuining’s gla.s.s box, tinted with the changing colors of the flickering television.

They could not see or hear the players; only under one condition would they know that the players had entered the house.

“Do you think…” Abby whispered, leaning in, “the players will really fall for it?”

“They have no reason not to,” Wu Yiliu answered in the same low tone, “They’re already worried that we lied about the teleportation date and would sneak away earlier. Our sudden disappearance is almost confirmation of their fears. How can they not come to check?”

Abby nodded.

Since the pocket dimension was clearly not over, it meant that at least all the puppets hadn’t been teleported away; according to their agreement, Cuining had already transformed, so she could stabilize the pocket dimension like a Sea-anchoring Divine Needle, preventing it from ending — but when Cuining couldn’t control her transformation, Wu Yiliu never let her out, instead tightly covering her with the four brainwas.h.i.+ng garments.

In other words, since they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, the players couldn’t be one hundred percent certain that Cuining had really transformed. They didn’t know the content of the disc, so they naturally couldn’t be sure that what Cuining recounted during her walks was indeed on the disc — for all they knew, everything might be a deception.

At this time, if someone among the players suddenly proposed to check if Cuining had really transformed to confirm the situation, the suggestion would be quite reasonable and wouldn’t encounter much resistance or opposition.

Once they entered the camping house, there was only one way to confirm that Cuining had really transformed — it would be for a player to whisper a suggestion to her to remove her face mask.

Wu Yiliu was waiting for this signal.

After an unknowable time of breathless waiting, the expressionless Cuining inside the transparent box slowly raised her hand to her forehead, bit by bit pulling the skin from her scalp with a hissing sound.

The unseen players had already gathered in the room, watching intently as Cuining removed her face mask.

Now was the time.

As Abby softly drew in a cold breath, Wu Yiliu closed his eyes and activated [Human Concerto].