"Right, having said so much, why not try the taste? Boys, have a taste?" The aroma of the wine had lingered for a long time, and the old man seemed too impatient to wait and was ready to start pouring drinks for a few people.
It was at this moment that the raiding gang finally showed their true colors.
"Old man, you wouldn't be thinking of using this wine to knock us out, would you?" Someone pulled out a knife.
"Oh dear." The old man wore a face of surprise, "Why would you think that, why... why take out a knife?"
"Kill him first, then drink and take the money. It's the same thing," someone said. "This place is a good hideout, even if the apocalypse breaks out, you could run away with things."
"Hurry it up."
As the young man with the knife stepped forward to attack the old man, he saw a sinister smile appear on the face of the hunched-over elder.
The young man opened his mouth but found he could no longer make a sound.
The aroma of wine hanging in the air grew more intense and intoxicating.
"Bang" "Bang" "Bang"!
Sounds of bodies hitting the floor followed—extremely heavy.
Several people lay on the ground, weapons scattered, their bodies as if paralyzed and completely unable to move.
With his back bent, wearing a sinister smile, the old man resealed the wine and placed his hand on the bar, revealing a deep passageway.
He dragged their bodies, each as limp as a sack of potatoes, one by one, their faces showing utter despair, into the passage.
"Clink."
The candlelight suddenly lit up again, and the night tavern returned to tranquility.
The slightly ajar wooden door resembled the gaping maw of a ferocious beast, waiting for travelers lost in their paths.
…
"…Something's not right."
In the room upstairs, the black-haired girl stood by the window, her face illuminated by the light as she gazed out at the city's night lights.
The wooden bed creaked, and the March air carried the mildew smell of damp wood.
Since it was the resting period, Su Ming'an had temporarily turned off the live broadcast. He sat on the bed, holding his forehead, easing the lingering dizziness.
"…Ah." He lifted his eyelids, revealing eyes filled with red veins, "What did you say?"
"The smell of blood," Yuanyuan said. "It's pretty clear."
"You've got a keen nose," Su Ming'an collapsed back on the bed, "...but this kind of thing basically doesn't need analysis."
"Why?"
"Bringing together all the clues we can deduce," Su Ming'an said, "it's a disease that clearly requires fungal healing to cure, yet the price of the fungus is shockingly cheap. Obviously, those inexpensive fungi are not the kind needed for treating diseases."
Yuanyuan's eyelashes quivered as she suddenly remembered Su Ming'an's horrific description of the scenes in the laboratory.
—Can the ones used to make vaccines be those mushrooms growing out of...those bodies?
"A place like this tavern is probably a fungal cultivation site," Su Ming'an yawned. "The whole city first uses high prices to push out non-resident workers, then lures those unaware, penniless outsiders to this seemingly good resting spot, traps them, cultivates fungi on their bodies... sells the fungi to those sick people to make exorbitant profits. The entire city is like a huge crematorium." He covered his eyes with his hand to shield them from the somewhat piercing light:
"Anything can happen in this world... Using sickness as a basis to segregate a group of people for profit, the benefactors can by this method of labeling others, list those suitable to become sources of fungi and those suitable to be 'saved' by the fungi.
They stride toward sin with faces flushed, thinking themselves noble for it.
—And in places like this, it's never disease that kills people, but their own greed..."
Yuanyuan stood in the cold night breeze for a long time, feeling the chill.
She slightly turned her head, thinking to put on a coat, only to find that the person who had collapsed on the bed had already fallen asleep.
She heard a knock at the door.
The old man's voice, as raspy as a saw cutting through wood, came from outside:
"Young man, young lady, would you like some beverages or snacks? You haven't eaten yet, have you."
As the old man spoke, Yuanyuan smelled a distinct scent of blood.
She did not respond, but tiptoed to the door and gently pressed her face against the peephole.
—She met the old man's eyes, deep and miring like a swamp, pulling one into their depths.
Empty, deathly, like dark, empty sockets with nothing inside.
Startled by her own thoughts, she looked again but saw nothing.
A hair-raising shudder passed quietly up her spine; she swallowed and shifted her step to grab the sword from her backpack.
"…Why aren't you talking? Fallen asleep?" She heard the old man muttering outside.
"Creak."
The wooden board made a crisp sound, stark in the otherwise silent ambience.
The old man outside, his hands stained with blood, held a basket of attractive mushrooms.
Upon hearing the distinct wooden sound inside, his smile stretched instantly from the corners of his mouth to his eyes, the smile as terrifyingly unnatural as that of no human.
"…Ah, so you are in there."
Yuanyuan's body jolted, as she immediately thought to wake Su Ming'an, only to discover that the door, which had been securely locked, was somehow open.
"Creak——"
The old man, his eyes ablaze like ghostly fire and his body covered in swathes of dark, fresh blood, smiled through the slowly widening door gap at her.
Suddenly, "Bang" went a sound, as a metal pipe missed Yuanyuan's hair by inches and struck the old man squarely.
[——HP-120!]
Su Ming'an, who had been sitting up from the bed rubbing his still aching head and appearing drowsy, picked up another intact metal pipe, walked a few steps to where the old man was struggling under the pipe, and thrust it down with a "slish," splashing a large splash of blood onto the wall.
[——HP-600! (Fatal wound, penetrating injury!)]
As a few drops splashed onto his face, he wiped them off with his hand and mercilessly delivered another blow.
Yuanyuan stood by and watched him create a trail of blood with each move, said nothing, and turned to start tidying up the bedding.
Su Ming'an didn't even glance at the old man's pitiful death. He walked to the bed, cleaned the blood-stained steel pipe with a curtain, stuffed it into his backpack, and then went to pick up the corpse.
[Item Acquired (Mature Mushroom)]
[Mature Mushroom: A mushroom that looks delicious. Perhaps you have already begun to uncover some truths about this world.]
[Plot Hint: "They say the noblest revenge is to forgive."]
[You have successfully found the antibody.]
[*Advanced Task: Find the Apocalypse's antibody—Completed]
[Reward points have been recorded and will be liquidated after the world ends.]
[Please continue to explore and discover the secret story of the Apocalypse's outbreak.]
[*Hint: "Perfect Pass" provides unexpected benefits to players. Please look forward.]
...
A series of message notifications popped up the moment Su Ming'an was collecting mushrooms.
"Mushrooms that can be made into a vaccine?" Yuanyuan glanced over while holding the blanket, "…It has a very obvious smell of blood."
"A vaccine made from others' lives, called a vaccine for salvation." Su Ming'an held the mushroom, from which not tender juice, but bright red, bloodlike liquid flowed: "Quite ironic… Wait, what are you doing with the blanket?"
Su Ming'an looked at the girl twisting in the large blanket.
"Switching rooms." Yuanyuan said.
She yawned, tears glinting at the corner of her eyes, lazily stepping forward.
"Oh, right." She turned back and said, "The hopscotch game."
Su Ming'an was initially confused, then, after a moment, he understood what she was referring to.
Yuanyuan had been his friend for several years, lived nearby, and he would also get her to play some games with him like Mario, Overcooked… but she always played terribly, and was extremely bad at them, soon he no longer wanted to play with her.
But this girl, as if she had no other friends, clung to him as though she had seen the gates to a New World, constantly clamoring to play together.
He knew Yuanyuan's family was not well-off and she was a loner, probably hadn't been exposed to these games before, leading to her addiction for a while.
But he refused to play with a lousy gamer.
So, he had previously tricked her by saying there was a "hopscotch game" coming out soon, way more fun than Overcooked, and he would look her up to play once it was released.
Of course, he decided when that would be.
But unexpectedly, before this made-up game could officially launch—the World Game had begun.
"…" Su Ming'an was at a loss for words.
"…"
The girl was also staring at him, her eyes sparkling.
But soon, she turned away:
"Never mind." Holding the blanket, she slipped away to another empty room: "Tired, good night."
"…Good night." Su Ming'an glanced at her and temporarily put aside these useless thoughts in his mind.
He went out, walked across the creaky staircase, searched around for a while, and then he opened the dark passage leading underground.
Carrying a candle, he went down, seeing many corpses with tragic deaths along the way; the air was thick with a stifling scent of blood and decay.
At the end of the road, he saw a few relatively fresh corpses, still youthful looking with eyes open wide in horror and disbelief, fresh mushrooms growing abundantly in all corners of their bodies—these were the hopeful growths of the city.
Morbid hope.
Sacrificial hope.
He glanced at the bodies, then, holding the candle, quietly walked back.
"Good night."
With a light puff, the candle was instantly snuffed out.
...
Today was the second day of the World Game.
Already, many players had died at the hands of their own kind in struggles and marauding gangs.
They never thought that the most unexpected blade would come from their own brethren, not from the impending Apocalyptic crisis.
This group of players entered the forum filled with resentment, breaking the monotonous theme of "Players, keep it up."
[It's a game of mutual annihilation from the start, it couldn't possibly become peaceful.]
[All players having low points will lead to collective failure… stop being sentimental. To vie for the final victory, elimination is necessary.]
Subsequently, they saw the post directly pinned by the Organizers: [(Essential) Brief Analysis on How Players Can Save Themselves].
The comments below reached the billions and were continuously refreshed, both approvals and criticisms were abundant, but unanimously, people agreed on the rules proposed by the thread starter.
Many former business tycoons and top celebrities from old Zhai Xing spoke up, attracting a lot of attention to their posts.
People acknowledged one viewpoint—for the ultimate victory, appropriate sacrifices are necessary.
Under the premise that players still maintain their moral baseline, there shouldn't be too much criticism of competitive behavior in the game.
The game, which does not involve real death and cultivates both physical strength and intelligence quotient, is also an opportunity for humanity itself.
However, players still had concerns,
In such a life-and-death game, ambitions and desires could be amplified limitlessly.
In the end ... the players who had gained everything, those whose disparities had been immensely magnified, what would they become, and whether … might they become like the Organizers, becoming the new tyrants dominating all of humanity?
...
[World Game·Remaining Players: 940,689,521]