The Righteous Player(s) Chapter 39: Nightmare: It’s brittle and easy to swallow
【Falling into a nightmare, the copy is being generated...】
[Detected that the current copy has special properties: replay]
[The copy is being regenerated...]
[The difficulty of the dungeon is twisted, and there is no limit to the number of entries]
[The current purification rate is 38/350]
[The current total erosion rate of the team is 8%, the difficulty of the dungeon has increased by 8%, and the probability of nightmare distortion has increased by 8%]
[This copy has a total of 6 save points, and each death increases the erosion by 2%]
[This copy does not provide introduction to the plot, but there are decryption rewards]
[Rewards for clearing the dungeon: the first two floors - any self-chosen profession below the bronze level (including bronze level) will increase by 1 to 2; the last four floors - any self-chosen profession below the silver level (including bronze level) will increase by 1 to 4 level]
[Copy Decryption Reward: Unknown]
[Loading completed]
The world in front of Annan's eyes was pitch black, and data flowed downwards rapidly.
At this moment, he suddenly felt a strong feeling of vomiting in his stomach... This seemed to be no illusion. At least for Annan, he rarely felt delusional.
After the data flow completely faded away, a ethereal and illusory whisper suddenly sounded in his ears:
"Don't look back..."
That was the voice of an old man: "Never look back..."
The voice came from behind Annan, very old and weak, but extremely clear.
It was as if he was sticking close behind him and whispering in his ear.
Before Annan opened his eyes, he opened his own panel with a sudden thought.
In the dungeon, all Annan can see is health and erosion, but this is enough...
When Annan entered the country before, he heard about the overall erosion rate of the team, which made him a little uneasy.
This is a one-person book, could it be...
After Annan opened the panel, two lines of numbers were displayed in front of him:
Health: 56%
Erosion degree: 8%
... Sure enough, he has died twice without knowing it.
"I really have no memory at all..."
Annan frowned slightly.
It's a bit troublesome. Death cannot inherit memories...which means that mistakes can happen again.
If someone else were here, they might be panicking about this kind of death cycle that they can never escape from.
However, although Annan felt a little troubled, he was not afraid.
If you want to ask why...
That is, he knows himself very well. To use a strange metaphor to describe it... it's like the audience.
His understanding of himself is like the audience's understanding of a character in a TV series, movie, or animation. Because he is aware of everything that happened in the past but is detached from it, he can understand why his feelings exist and what influences his decisions are based on.
Even if there is no inherited memory. But as long as it is "Annan" who takes action in the first two weeks, then he will have the confidence to decipher the message he left for himself——
Annan opened his eyes.
What appeared in front of him was a long gallery with bright lights. The corridor is wide enough to accommodate ten people walking side by side, with no decorations on either side.
There is a crystal-clear chandelier on the ceiling, and the burning candlelight shines through the chandelier, illuminating the entire corridor. Only the open door at the end of the corridor was dim.
He looked down at himself, unable to identify himself based on his clothing. It can only be roughly determined that the age of this body is that of a male, in his thirties, with clean hands and no calluses. The clothes are simple and clean but the material is quite comfortable. There should be at least no financial pressure.
"Gallery...am I a painter?"
Annan speculated.
There are no prompts and no plot introduction.
"Let me think about it..."
He murmured quietly.
Annan noticed that blood was slowly leaching from his abdomen.
Judging from the pain, this should have been stabbed with a dagger not long ago. Judging from the location, the possibility of damage to internal organs cannot be ruled out.
"Ah, I'm hurt. I'm bleeding all over the floor."
He said calmly and expressionlessly.
When he lowered his head to check his injuries, he accidentally discovered by observing his own shadow that the firelight in the room was extremely stable.
There is absolutely no disturbing sense of light and shadow caused by the faint trembling of the candlelight as it passes through the airflow.
Annan narrowed his eyes slightly and walked inside immediately without any hurry.
He recalled the strategy given to him by Padre Lewis.
Just in case, Padre Lewis wrote a lot over and over again. But Annan can basically sum it up in three sentences:
First, don’t focus on any painting, but don’t close your eyes either.
Second, at all forks in the road, go to the side with the paintings.
Third, no matter what happens, never look back.
According to Priest Lewis, as long as Annan strictly abides by the above strategy, he should be able to leave safely.
... Then here comes the problem.
Why did Annan die here twice?
"According to my habit, when I download a copy for the first time..."
Annan murmured: "I will definitely follow the strategy completely."
He knew in advance that death in this copy would lead to memory loss, so all his actions during the week must be "standard behaviors" that would provide reference for his future self.
The question is...how did he do it the second time?
When did he die both times?
"...It's a bit interesting."
The corners of Annan's mouth raised slightly.
When the crisis came, he clearly felt the joy and excitement deep in his heart.
He did not look at any painting, but walked forward slowly.
It's not that he doesn't want to go faster, but because the wound in his abdomen keeps dragging him. And when Annan wants to forcefully walk fast, his health will suddenly decline.
"Is the movement speed limited..."
Annan murmured in a low voice.
If he were to design this level...
He will definitely arrange a chase, which will force the player character to trot. Suppress players through the dual fear of rapidly losing health and the danger behind them.
He narrowed his eyes slightly~IndoMTL.com~ and walked to the end of the corridor.
Annan controlled his pace and measured the length with his own steps instead of his eyes.
"...exactly one hundred meters."
After he pushed open the door at the end of the corridor, he found an L-shaped corner in front of him. The end of the corner turned right.
This short corner is very dark, without any lighting, and very narrow, less than three meters wide and short in length.
But there was a hazy light at the end of the corner, which seemed to attract Annan to pass here quickly.
Everything here is very dark, Annan can only be sure that there are still many picture frames hanging on both sides. Almost every painting is a portrait.
He glanced around with his peripheral vision and was sure that the people in these frames were all looking at him.
"This time it's twenty meters."
He whispered.
When Annan walked through the first corner, he still didn't find anything special. On the other side of the corner is a narrow space of less than ten meters. It houses a collectibles display case on the left and a clothes rack on the right.
But there was nothing in the display cabinet or on the hangers. Everything was empty...as if it had been rolled over by a player.
And there is a door at the end of this narrow space. The door was brownish-red and looked a little worn, but otherwise nothing special.
Annan smiled slightly and opened the door calmly.
Then he saw the familiar, long and brightly lit gallery.
It was as if he was back to square one.
"...Ha. Hahahaha!"
But looking at this weird and horrifying scene, Annan couldn't help laughing.
After he finished laughing, he walked into the gallery with a smile on his face and closed the door behind him.
"PT... I'm familiar with this."
Annan murmured in a low voice.
The corners of his mouth raised strangely.