Chapter 49 Carnivore (21) Ancestral Hall

Yang Yundong gripped the plain blade with his single arm and walked in front; five players followed closely behind him.

Passing through ruined, collapsed houses and low walls, and treading upon weeds heavy with dew, the large locust tree they had seen yesterday came into view.

The fog had not yet had time to rise on the road, allowing the players to see the scenery ahead and behind; fifty meters beyond the locust tree, a building hung with red lanterns stood prominently. They didn’t know why they hadn’t been able to find it yesterday despite searching for so long.

The blue tiles on the building’s roof were incomplete, with several holes exposing rotting rafters, but the plaque under the eaves was clean, with the words “Su Family Ancestral Hall” written in gold ink.

“We’ve reached the ancestral hall.” Yang Yundong came to a halt before the tightly closed doors, looking at the almost entirely peeled-off vermilion lacquer, slightly dazed.

Qi Si stepped forward, skillfully pulling a wire from his bracelet to pick the bronze lock on the door rings.

He raised his hand to pull the vermilion doors of the ancestral hall, expecting to need some effort, but to his surprise, the doors opened on their own with just a tug on the rings.

It was as if… they had been blown open by the wind.

A smile curled at the corners of his lips: “I didn’t expect them to be so hospitable, so eager to invite us in.”

Yang Yundong’s face was a dusty gray due to excessive blood loss, and his figure swayed slightly, but he did not show too much obvious fatigue.

He glanced indifferently at Qi Si, turned his gaze forward, and stepped over the threshold.

Qi Si followed closely behind with a light smile.

The ancestral hall was less than a hundred square meters in size, with candle stands lining both sides. Candles of various heights were lit, yet they could not dispel the darkness in the slightest.

The doors of the ancestral hall faced away from the light, leaving most of the space submerged in gloom, creating a strong sense of unease, as if countless pairs of eyes were hidden in the corners.

Behind the altar in the ancestral hall, rows of ancestral tablets were enshrined, stacked one after another. At a glance, there were probably dozens or even a hundred of them.

A wooden bucket sat in front of the altar—the very one Granny Su had been carrying.

The rim of the bucket was covered in messy bite marks that looked like human teeth prints; only a few scraps of meat remained in the bucket, having been eaten quite clean.

Glancing around, there was no Idol to be seen, nor any signs related to a god.

The players signaled each other with their eyes, all seeing doubt in one another’s gaze.

Zhang Licai blinked a few times: “Doesn’t the Village History say the villagers built the ancestral hall to worship a deity? Why isn’t there even an Idol? What are these tablets for?”

Qi Si’s gaze lingered among the tablets.

Every tablet enshrined in the hall began with the surname “Su.” Their birth years varied, but their death years were identical—without exception, it was the year the villagers first began to undergo their transformation.

He walked around to the back of the wooden rack holding the tablets.

There was no shrine there either; instead, a massive yellow talisman was pasted there, with the word “Suppress” written in red ink, exuding a palpable sense of evil.

Zhu Ling also walked over, frowning as she stared at the yellow talisman: “This is a Soul-Suppressing Talisman, used to suppress the souls of those who died a wrongful death. With this talisman, as long as they are regularly worshipped and the blood-food is never cut off, the vengeful souls won’t be able to break free from control.”

The records in the Village History matched the physical evidence before him. Feeling a sense of realization, Qi Si smiled: “No wonder it’s said that someone must guard the ancestral hall or something will go wrong. Is it because they’re afraid of these villagers who died during the transformation causing trouble?”

“It’s not just those who died from the transformation.” Zhu Ling shook her head. “These people were likely had their flesh harvested by other villagers to be used as God Meat, passing it off as the real thing. Only ghosts who were murdered could have such heavy resentment and become such great malevolent spirits…”

Zhang Licai craned his neck, puzzled: “If that’s the case, Granny Su and these ghosts are all victims. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, so why don’t they team up for revenge? Even if Granny Su doesn’t want revenge herself, why does she help guard the ancestral hall?”

“Who knows? Perhaps the person who killed Granny Su is among these ghosts.” Qi Si walked back to the front of the altar and noticed a few black-and-white photos interspersed among the tablets.

The men and women in the photos had their lips pursed, appearing at first glance to be smiling, but upon closer inspection, one would find their faces all drooping, looking as if they might burst into tears at any moment.

The victimizer will eventually become the victim. In the jungle law of egoists, if one does not wish to be devoured by others, one must stand at the top of the food chain and devour others.

Qi Si backed away toward the door step by step, looking up to see that Zhou Yilin had been standing there for a long time, cowering against the door panel as if she didn’t dare take another step into the ancestral hall.

The girl had naturally overheard their discussion and murmured softly: “It’s just a habit. Under a set of rules, since one has already suffered so much, why not let those who come after feel the same?

“If only you suffer while others don’t, that would be far too unfair. So, it’s better if everyone is equally miserable.”

“Indeed.” Qi Si cast her a knowing look. “For an anti-social maniac, if they are about to die, it’s best if the whole world dies with them to put their mind at ease. After all, the human species loves to compare; only by observing the misfortune of others can they be satisfied with their own luck.”

“Drip.” Something fell onto the floor, forming a viscous puddle.

Zhang Licai was studying the talisman behind the wooden rack with Zhu Ling. Hearing the sound, he slowly looked up, a “he-he” gasping sound coming from his throat.

Human faces of various sizes were neatly arranged on the ceiling. Their shriveled skin looked as if it would turn into tree bark and fall off at a touch, yet they all wore peaceful expressions, which seemed incredibly eerie in this setting.

Yang Yundong also noticed the faces on the ceiling.

He furrowed his brows, picked up three sticks of incense from the altar, and said quickly: “We’ve all eaten God Meat and are stained with sin. Let’s hurry and pay our respects before looking for clues.”

No one objected. With the tattooed woman’s example fresh in their minds, no one knew when the transformation would happen to them.

Zhu Ling also took three sticks of incense but did not step forward. Instead, she waited to the side, her eyes fixed on Yang Yundong, clearly wanting him to test the waters first.

Yang Yundong seemed oblivious, kneeling before the altar and holding the three long, thin sticks of incense in his right hand as he bowed three times.

Blood dripped from his blood-soaked military overcoat, soon leaving an irregular red outline in front of the altar.

Qi Si saw several wisps of black smoke rising from behind the tablets, intertwining with the faces on the ceiling.

He couldn’t tell if it was an illusion, but he felt those faces were smiling, as if something had happened exactly as they wished.

Yang Yundong finished his worship and slowly stood up with the help of the altar. He swayed as if he might fall at any moment, but ultimately supported himself with the plain blade tucked under his arm.

The moment he stood fully upright, a “snap” rang out in the silence. Two of the incense sticks in his hand broke simultaneously and fell to the floor.

People fear “three longs and two shorts,” while incense fears “two shorts and one long.”

Zhao Feng was the first to react, shouting: “Something’s wrong! Run!”

He didn’t even need to give the warning; as soon as the change occurred, Qi Si had already taken a step back and retreated out of the ancestral hall.

Zhou Yilin had also exited the ancestral hall. This girl looked frail, but her reaction was even faster than Qi Si’s.

Zhao Feng rushed to the door in a few steps, grabbing the door panels with both hands and pushing them outward, his muscles bulging with hard veins.

Then he saw Qi Si stop in his tracks and mouth three words to him: “Kill him.”

Kill whom? Wait, I see!

‘He’s useless now. If you get the chance, kill him.’ Qi Si’s words echoed in the depths of Zhao Feng’s mind.

He suddenly understood; this was the opportunity Qi Si had been waiting for. In the chaos caused by the sudden situation, he could easily seize a weakness and kill Yang Yundong.

As expected of a member of the Sera Guild, he even calculated this! Filled with awe, he let go and stepped back, allowing the doors to slowly close.

The others finally realized something was wrong, but it was too late. The doors of the ancestral hall slammed shut with a “thud,” locking four players inside and leaving Qi Si and Zhou Yilin outside.

Under the pale sky, the ancient ancestral hall loomed like a monster. The fields outside were lonely and vast, with no sign of human life as far as the eye could see.

A gust of biting wind rose from the ground, fluttering the clothes of Qi Si and Zhou Yilin as they stood outside. The cold air poured in from their collars, making a rustling sound.

Zhou Yilin began to cry again: “Are… are they going to die? I’m so scared…”

“They won’t all die,” Qi Si said indifferently. “Now that it’s just the two of us, let’s talk about your plans.”

Zhou Yilin stopped crying and stammered hesitantly: “Wh… what plans? I don’t understand what you’re talking about…”

Qi Si didn’t look at her but quietly gazed at the tightly sealed doors of the ancestral hall. The dark, heavy color felt solemn, reminding him inexplicably of clotted blood.

He continued: “Zhou Yilin, you clearly have plenty of experience, yet you still pretend this is your first instance, acting helpless to lure Zhu Ling into approaching and using you.

“Yesterday morning, Zhu Ling intended for you to stay at Granny Su’s house to do something, but you deliberately showed suspicious signs, causing her plan to fail. Last night, you shared a room with her and came out unscathed… I suspect you want to get rid of her, don’t you?”

Qi Si’s narration was very calm, as if he had witnessed the entire process.

Zhou Yilin’s timid expression settled, turning into a cold composure: “So you saw through me… You’re not exactly a good person either, are you?

“On the first day, you took an extra piece of God Meat, which indirectly led to Zhu Dafu’s death. Yesterday morning, you gave Lu Keliang a false hint that the ‘dry well is the exit,’ and this morning, you got rid of Yin Lina.

“You cooperated with Zhao Feng to have him stay in the ancestral hall because you wanted him to kill Yang Yundong, didn’t I guess right?”

“Correct,” Qi Si admitted openly. “In the Novice Pool, the individual strength of players doesn’t differ much, so numerical advantage is crucial. Ensuring your own team’s numbers don’t decrease while facilitating the reduction of other teams is a perfectly normal tactic, don’t you think?”

After realizing that many players had their own agendas, he no longer insisted on wearing a mask of kindness and instead preferred to demonstrate his advantage through his duo alliance with Zhao Feng.

This way, as soon as Yang Yundong died and the shackles on the egoists were shattered, the others would quickly form alliances based on shared interests.

Qi Si smiled as he looked into Zhou Yilin’s eyes: “You’ve clearly had your eye on Zhu Ling for a long time, but you haven’t made a move because you were wary of Yang Yundong, an uncertain factor.

“You knew that once he discovered you were a Slaughter-path player and had indeed killed someone, he would eliminate you without hesitation for the sake of the people; at the very least, he would cause you trouble.

“In the Boxed Pig Game, the weak can only profit by learning to wait. You remained still, simply waiting for our side to make a move. Why bother putting on an act of being oblivious?”

Zhou Yilin also smiled: “True. I knew you had pushed Yang Yundong into the leadership position to construct a Gunman’s Game model. His death was only a matter of time for you, so I simply waited a bit longer.”

Qi Si asked, knowing the answer: “After Yang Yundong dies, you’ll move against Zhu Ling as soon as possible, right?”

Zhou Yilin nodded slightly and tilted her head: “So, what is your choice?”