Shiller leapt into the swimming pool.
The other three were stunned, they all leaned over the edge of the pool and Cobblepot awkwardly said, "Should we… should we save him?"
"It's a trap, but he must know it, perhaps he had some other plan, let's pull him out before he dies," Jerome said.
Soon Shiller had run out of breath, and Jerome timed it right to pull him out. Fortunately, the pool was shallow, and one could generally pull someone out quickly even from the bottom.
Shiller lay by the edge of the pool, coughing in agony, and after a long while, he wiped his lips and said, "It's no use just killing our way to the hotel's main entrance."
He didn't mention the specifics, but it was probably similar to the first outcome, where it seemed like the hotel issue was resolved, but at most, they could only reach the level of the Avatars. They couldn't affect Nyarlathotep and hence couldn't solve the fundamental problem.
For mortals, it was practically impossible to reach the true form of an Outer God. The Cthulhu Mythos is also complex and abundant, overflowing with talent. Yet, none of the excellent works within it ever mentioned an investigator who could confront a being like Nyarlathotep—it was already a legend within legends just to survive an encounter with an Outer God.
Shiller barely caught his breath before jumping in again, leaving the three on the shore numb. They waited for another interval when Shiller ran out of breath to pull him up again.
"There's nothing between the two hotels," Shiller said, "Jumping down will result in being blown into mere bones."
Obviously, this was from the perspective of an onlooker, but the three tacitly avoided asking whom he had thrown down.
Then Shiller went down over a dozen more times, essentially ruling out all possible ways to break the situation. All the hotel's infrastructure was indestructible. The area outside the hotel meant certain death if one jumped. The anomalies within the hotel were unbeatable, and all the paths that led out of the hotel only offered a superficial peace, eventually leading to being entwined by an avatar of an Outer God.
It seemed the best outcome in this movie was a group of people desperately escaping from the hotel, only to be harassed for decades, reunite in the hotel, and ultimately die tragically.
As tragic as it sounded, in the literary and film works of the Cthulhu Mythos, this storyline was mainstream. Because the primary tone of this mythos is despair; the deepest terror is having no hope.
The other three sat at the edge of the pool, momentarily speechless. The degree of despair was such that even a madman like Jerome didn't know how to resist.
Theoretically, the best revenge against an Outer God who sought amusement was to deprive him of it, which meant a collective suicide.
But they were also very aware that humanity, like them, was endless; humans wouldn't feel sad about the ants in an anthill they played with today committing suicide, because they could just switch to another anthill tomorrow and still have fun.
When you are too weak, all your resistance seems ridiculous, and all your serious postures and expressions, the attitude of serious thinking and striving to survive, and the courage and strength of a desperate struggle, only add three layers of absurdity and another layer of ridicule.
Shiller didn't jump in again, because the pool obviously caused not only pain but also weakened the spiritual power. Shiller's spirit was on the verge of danger; one or two more times could lead to brain death.
"I don't think there are any other options," Cobblepot said, "This is an endless cycle of Hell, just to trap everyone here, and we're not special; perhaps this is our fate."
Shiller didn't blame his negative attitude, because at this point, not going mad was already a sign of considerable mental strength.
To be honest, his teammates weren't very skilled, but their mindsets were very stable.
Actually, Shiller had a few more outcomes he hadn't told them because if he did, it would seem even more hopeless—The Power of Copyright isn't effective here; drawing Mickey Mouse wouldn't work.
All-time effective comedic characters breaking through tough spots also had no meaning. This place would reflect everything's true nature unless you could break through the dimensional barrier and pull over the original forms of these comedic characters, maybe even needing to pull their creators over; otherwise, the blockade was unbreakable.
Heaven was unreachable, which meant, to some extent, that there were flaws in the Universe administrators' management of this area.
However, this further confirmed to Shiller that Nyarlathotep's true body was probably here. If not for the God of Thousand Faces' direct presence, the angels' management of the cosmos couldn't have such a massive flaw.
People always say, "Cthulhu cannot be directly looked at," but facing an Outer God is another kind of difficulty; before you can directly look at them, you first have to find them. And compared to the weak Mr. Ke, all Outer Gods are hexagonal warriors.
Nyarla's edge extends even further because he has completely overcome the weaknesses of blindness, stupidity, and lack of subjective initiative.
How interesting, the Bishop thought after coming back and organizing the clues in his mind only to find that there were just a few paths, all leading to dead ends.
Although it wasn't known whether finding Nyarlathotep meant an endgame, if there was any room for breaking through the situation, it was in trying to find this Outer God's true form.
But upon further consideration, even finding him wouldn't help, because Nyarlathotep could not be looked at directly. Humans couldn't communicate directly with his true form; otherwise, their brains would explode, so after all the detours, it still led to a dead end.
Shiller made a decision, and that was to wait.
Yes, he planned to do nothing and just wait, because he knew now he was alone, but he was not just one person any longer.
During the waiting process, Shiller began to ponder Nyarla's purpose. While the Humans were content just to be entertained, they didn't mind seizing a bit of profit if the opportunity arose.
Shiller always felt that some of the words spoken by Black Pharaoh were true, which meant that Nyarla's major disturbances weren't just for Little Bruce—there was at least a part of it meant for him.
But what about him would draw Nyarla's attention? It couldn't just be because of The Nameless Fog, could it? If so, he should have gone after The Gray Mist instead of coming after him, right?
No, Shiller suddenly had a realization; The Nameless Fog wasn't important to Nyarla, or rather, it was very important to him.
Otherwise, why would he come looking for him as soon as he separated from The Gray Mist? During the time he was above Barbados, he had dealt with Nyarla several times, so why didn't he act then?
In the Cthulhu Mythos, there were few descriptions of The Nameless Fog, but Shiller guessed that Nyarla probably couldn't deal with The Gray Mist, which is why he was well-behaved while The Gray Mist was around and only approached him once The Gray Mist had left.
But if the first outcome was indeed an outcome, The Gray Mist had come and left without burden, which suggested that Nyarla didn't intend to harm him, or even if he had entangled him again later, there probably wasn't any real danger; otherwise, The Gray Mist wouldn't have left so easily.
What exactly did this guy want to do?
Could it really just be about clinging to him for a drink?
They already had the drink, it should have been enough, so why put on a recurring show keeping him trapped here?
Thinking this, Shiller pretty much hit a dead end in his thoughts, estimated it was about time, and lit a white candle.
Greed arrived, picked up a notepad immediately to write something, but didn't write much before leaving just one sentence and then left.
The Bishop came back utterly baffled, and became even more confused upon seeing the words on the note. Greed had written, "Summon Mediocrity."
Shiller looked left and right, up and down, and still couldn't understand where the genius in this tactic was. If both himself, Morbidity, and normalcy were unable to handle the situation, inviting Mediocrity over? Wouldn't he be scared to death on the spot?
But Shiller had no other bright ideas; he simply lit another white candle and silently recited Mediocrity's name in his mind.
When Shiller opened his eyes again, his face was filled with perplexity. Mediocrity hadn't intended to manifest in a separate body; he had been sleeping in the High Tower, and somehow, someone had opened his door and dragged him here.
He looked around, first startled by Gordon's condition, then hesitantly glanced at Cobblepot's legs, and only then realized he was standing on the edge of a large swimming pool.
Very predictably, he startled, slipped, and fell directly into the pool.
Accompanied by a splash, Jerome was a bit puzzled, and said, "Why such a commotion this time? Does he think a different diving posture might reveal new clues?"
Unlike the last time, Shiller wasn't quiet falling into the pool. Although the water wasn't deep, he couldn't swim at all, struggled to maintain his balance, and swallowed several gulps of water.
The previous times he entered the water were near the poolside, but this time Shiller slipped and fell into the middle of the pool, and his restless legs kicked about. The pool wasn't deep, and after flailing a couple of times, Shiller felt his left foot kick off something.
Jerome looked shockingly at the whirlpool forming on the water's surface.
Had Shiller dislodged the drain plug from the pool's drainage valve???
Sure enough, the water in the pool was draining away quickly, heading down the drainage pipe while Shiller, soaking wet in the middle of the pool, still had a look of having survived a disaster on his face.
After he stood up, he stared at the drain and said, "That's not right, aren't professional pools supposed to have water tanks to pump out water? Where does this drain lead?"
Upon hearing this, the others realized that most swimming pools do not replace water the way most people imagine—with one outlet draining out and another inlet flowing in. Most undergo chemical cleaning, and even if the water is changed completely, it involves attaching a hose to a water truck to pump the old water out and bring new water in, not draining into the hotel's plumbing system.
So where was the water going?
The group jumped into the pool for a closer inspection and discovered that the drain wasn't built-in but seemed to have been drilled by someone, and Shiller had kicked off the cap that was blocking it.
On further inspection, they realized there wasn't a pipe under this hole; meaning the water from the pool had probably flooded the highest level of the hotel by now.
Shiller inhaled sharply and then said, "You can't blame me for this. The hole is so small, ordinary water wouldn't flow out this quickly unless it was much heavier than normal."
Jerome, being a PhD in physics, understood this; he hesitated a bit and said, "This water is indeed not ordinary water. Should we go down and check?"