"Huh? Blocked again?"
Walter, still on his mobile phone, continued swiping away at the screen, looking for the previous post, but the post had disappeared like a stone sinking into the ocean.
"Why do you say again?" Charlie asked.
"Because I heard that there have been similar incidents in the past. Someone posted about people drowning in places without water or getting half-stuck in walls, and as soon as such posts appear, they get quickly blocked."
"Really?" Charlie asked.
In this information age, where the beginning of a story is all based on making things up, a few words from netizens can't really be trusted.
No, to be precise, this blame should not be placed on the Internet. Long before the Internet was popularized, various newspapers and magazines were full of strange stories. But with the popularization of mobile phone cameras, ghosts no longer come out of the mountains, UFOs no longer fly around, and water monsters no longer bubble up.
"Yes, of course," Walter said. "But this kind of post wasn't blocked before."
When Charlie thought about it, he felt that the statement was true. In the past, ghosts and alien stories were all over the Internet without being restricted by anyone. But now that these posts are being blocked, it feels suspicious.
It would be fine if it was someone else watching the fun, but Charlie was different. After all, the Klein Group building in the posted picture looked exactly like the one he saw in the game last night. Even the news matched the content of the game. It is too far-fetched to say it is a coincidence.
There must be something wrong.
After finally getting out of class, Charlie was not in the mood for the next class and wanted to go straight home to see what was wrong with the game.
As soon as the get-out-of-class bell rang, Charlie asked his good friend Walter to help him sign in for the next class. Then, he got up and squeezed out of the crowd.
As he left the teaching building, his eyes were drawn to a scene happening in the square outside.
A large group of people had gathered there; the scene was a bit chaotic, and emotional scolding could be heard inside.
Charlie leaned over, took advantage of his height of nearly 1.8 meters to look inside, and soon understood what was happening.
Surrounded by the group of onlookers were two young individuals, a man and a woman. They both looked like students and were undergoing a heated exchange of words.
"WHAT THE F*CK DID YOU SAY?! THAT GUY IS JUST A CAB DRIVER. I DON'T KNOW HIM AT ALL! CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND ENGLISH?!"
"I don't fucking know him!"
"Wǒ tā mā bù rènshí tā!"
"Je ne le connais pas putain!"
"No lo conozco!"
"Watashi wa kare no koto o mattaku shirimasen!"
The woman's mouth seemed to be endowed with Google Translate.
"Nonsense!
"Do you take me for a fool? You hang out with dubious people all day long. You really think I'm a fool who doesn't know what's going on, right?"
"Alright, you wanna go there? I haven't exposed you for the sake of our relationship, but you don't think I don't know about your drug-dealing friends? You think I don't know about your stolen car? You say I hang around dubious people, but aren't those crackhead strippers you call "friends" dubious?
You always question why I'm no longer interested in sleeping with you; you say I'm cheating, but isn't the truth simply that you can't even last longer than a minute. Even when you take medication, what's the result? Another minute? What a joke!"
"..."
After listening for a bit, Charlie understood.
In short, it was a classic case of a couple breaking up and airing their dirty laundry.
Normally, Charlie might be interested in watching, to see how the drama ends, but today, he had something on his mind and was in a hurry to get back home to his game. He lost interest after a few glances and prepared to leave.
But what happened next was beyond his expectations.
Slap.
There was a loud, crisp sound. The man had slapped the woman on the cheek.
This sound was like the bell ringing for the start of a competition, announcing the official start of a WWE Smackdown.
The woman quickly got the upper hand, but the man's reaction was quicker. He immediately followed up with a punch, but it didn't seem to have the desired effect. The woman grabbed the man's hair with her hand, but it was too oily to grasp...
"…"
After a brief stalemate, the woman made a deadly shot. The onlookers seemed to hear the sound of something cracking...
At this moment, Charlie realized that something was a little strange.
He thought that if he took such a hit, temporarily losing mobility would be inevitable. Even watching from the sidelines, he felt a kind of indescribable pain.
However, the man took the hit firmly and immediately launched a counterattack as if nothing had happened.
Upon seeing this scene, even Charlie started to view the man in awe.
The man punched the woman in the face without holding back. Half of the woman's cheeks swelled immediately, and a trickle of blood began to ooze from her lips.
But she was also unmoved and counterattacked with her nails, leaving bloody scratches on the boy's face.
Charlie was stunned.
It was as if the altercation had suddenly escalated into a life-and-death struggle. The two young individuals wrestled together crazily as if they were mortal enemies.
What's even more strange is that as the scene slowly became increasingly bloody and out of control, the crowds of onlookers were indifferent.
No one stepped forward to dissuade them, no one called for help, no one even exclaimed, and most remarkably, no one picked up a mobile phone to take a picture.
It was as if this was an ancient arena, and the onlookers were cold judges.
Looking at these mechanically indifferent faces, Charlie suddenly remembered that he had seen similar expressions before.
It was the faces of the men in the meeting room from the game last night.
The horrified faces in the conference room overlapped with the expressions of the students watching, making Charlie feel a chill sweeping over his whole body.
He had a strong premonition that if he continued to stay here, he might also become abnormal.
He must leave quickly.
He turned his head and left the ranks of onlookers.
He needed to stay away from here and should probably call someone for help. Maybe he should contact the school security department or the sheriff's department... but this kind of thing seemed to be beyond the scope of a mere sheriff's department.
But such a thought barely had time to flash through his mind when…
Swoosh.
Suddenly, he felt a chill running down his spine.
He turned to look, only to find that the man and woman suddenly stopped fighting, and the students gathered around them suddenly stopped watching.
They were like puppets pulled by strings on a stage, and the puppeteer had just moved the strings from backstage, causing…
Crack, crack, crack.
…all the puppets to simultaneously look at Charlie, their necks snapping in his direction.
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