Chapter 155: Grand Performance (18) “Faust”

Most games in this instance are unfair, and this unfairness becomes more obvious as time accumulates.

The initial unfairness was that Hansen, clearly not the most sinful or worthless person, was voted out first simply because of his high combat power.

The existence of Role Cards is another layer of unfairness.

Players were assigned various roles without knowing it; those with roles like cannon fodder or Supporting Roles don’t get their Role Cards and can only wait for death, while the Protagonist and Villain have a chance to be resurrected.

The Protagonist’s resurrection is unconditional, while the Villain’s resurrection depends on the Protagonist being alive. Players were divided into classes from the start, with survival probabilities and death orders predetermined.

After that, games like Catch the Fox and blackjack are inherently unable to achieve absolute fairness and can only balance the odds through multiple rounds… Qi Si looked at Cynthia: “In this round, let’s both vote for Dong Xiwen. Once he’s dead, we’ll each rely on our own abilities.”

Cynthia nodded and simply said “Okay,” her dim eyes looking even darker at first glance.

“Hey! Is it really okay for you two to say these things in front of me?” Dong Xiwen wanted to cry but had no choice but to express his dissatisfaction through words.

Two votes against one, the outcome was decided; he would have to die once no matter what.

More terrifyingly, after Hansen was voted out, he seemingly truly died. If he was voted out, would he also die completely?

“Let’s begin.” Qi Si picked up the quill and wrote a name on the white paper.

Charlie urged at the right time: “Ladies and gentlemen, I believe you’ve communicated enough. Quickly write your choice on the paper! I’ve designed many interesting ways to die, just waiting for the results of your vote!”

Cynthia didn’t dawdle, grabbed the pen, and wrote a name.

Dong Xiwen’s gaze shifted between Qi Si and Cynthia for a while before he finally made a decision, gritted his teeth, and wrote down his choice stroke by stroke.

After all three put down their pens, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, waiting for death.

Time passed second by second, but the expected pain didn’t come. He was a bit confused and tentatively opened one eye a crack.

He saw an Arabic numeral formed from black smoke appearing above everyone’s head. Cynthia had a 0, and above Qi Si’s head was—

3!

Qi Si got 3 votes, which was a unanimous vote!

Dong Xiwen’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He voted for Qi Si because Qi Si had publicly claimed that if he died, Cynthia would die too.

A chance to take down two people with one vote, even if slim, was worth a try.

What surprised him was that Cynthia didn’t vote for him as promised, but also cast her vote for Qi Si.

But thinking about it, this woman was unwilling to be controlled by others and naturally had her own plans.

She only needed to keep Dong Xiwen in this round and then kill him with an item during the Battle Royale phase, so the only surviving players would be her and Qi Si.

Then, she could use an item to kill Qi Si.

With the minimum death count mechanism in place, no matter how powerful Qi Si’s soul contract was, it couldn’t bypass the fundamental rules of the Eerie Game to take her with him… But no one expected Qi Si to vote for himself.

“Unanimously passed! The result is clear! Congratulations to Mister No. 1 for being chosen as the sinner who most deserves to die!” Charlie announced excitedly.

Dong Xiwen stared at Qi Si, dumbfounded: “Wait, man, what’s the deal? Self-killing?”

After Hansen was voted out, he didn’t appear in the birdcage, and his fate was unknown; how was “Zhou Ke” so brave as to self-kill during the execution phase?

Wait! Did Cynthia not mention Hansen?

Dong Xiwen finally noticed the blind spot, his pupils shrinking slightly.

Perhaps Hansen didn’t fail to appear in the birdcage, but was killed by the two newcomers with items… Doesn’t this mean these two humanoid apes might actually kill people?

Dong Xiwen had a long face, thinking hopelessly: “It’s over, it’s over. When the Battle Royale phase comes, I’m afraid I’ll be directly killed…”

On the other side, Cynthia looked at the number above Qi Si’s head and immediately understood everything.

A person like Qi Si naturally couldn’t have the kindness to sacrifice himself; he voted for himself only because he wanted to leave the play early to do some small things that couldn’t be seen… He likely knew something and was fully confident he could clear the instance, which is why he dared to show his true face and expose his intentions now… And as an egoist like him, after clearing the instance, he certainly wouldn’t be kind enough to leave clues for those who followed.

If he lived on, it would be equivalent to “swallowing” the minimum death count mechanism. Cynthia knew that by then, even if she killed Dong Xiwen, she might not be able to clear the instance.

Thinking of this, she pulled a short knife from the interlayer of her dress and made a move to stand up and stab Qi Si across the table.

However, the next second, an invisible force descended from the sky, pinning her firmly to the chair.

This play was the same as the last one; except for the Battle Royale in the third act, players couldn’t attack each other in the other parts.

Cynthia couldn’t move and could only glare at Qi Si: “Zhou Ke, there is no absolute conflict of interest between us. Tell me the clues you know, and consider it that Jiuzhou owes you a favor.”

The execution had begun. Qi Si leaned back in his chair, letting his flesh be bitten off and eaten piece by piece by an invisible presence.

He actually had no special interest in eating people, so he didn’t have an excessive level of disgust toward being eaten; reading books that described this as wonderful and alluring, he couldn’t feel any empathy.

As far as he knew, appetite was often linked to eros, and he was a monster without the trait of “love”… Blood blurred his vision, flowing from his wounds into his ear canals; Qi Si only vaguely heard Cynthia’s persuasion.

The woman’s voice sounded calm, but if one listened carefully, the fear behind it could be detected.

She couldn’t do anything to Qi Si and had deduced the outcome if Qi Si’s plan succeeded.

At this moment, she was in a weak position, and the only way to break the situation was to persuade Qi Si to share clues with her so she could survive as well.

But unfortunately, Qi Si never had the kindness to save people, nor did he want to get too involved with Jiuzhou.

“Zhou Ke, I am a high-ranking member of Jiuzhou. Cooperating with me will be beneficial and harmless…” Cynthia was still persuading.

Feeling the dense pain all over his body, Qi Si let out a cold laugh through his nose: “As far as I know, that ridiculous guild values face more than life. They wouldn’t dare identify themselves after harming someone.”

“Although I haven’t joined them, I am very familiar with their higher-ups…”

Qi Si could no longer hear Cynthia’s words clearly. His consciousness began to separate from his body and, at a certain moment, dropped like a ripe fruit, drifting toward the boundless high sky.

He vaguely saw his Role Card for this play; the word “Villain” was exceptionally clear.

This time, he was still the Villain.

The game was no longer hiding its “unfair” nature.

Qi Si understood everything, felt enlightened, and wanted to laugh out loud, but ultimately made no sound.

In the silence, a bright red page slowly turned in the darkness… 【Main Quest has been refreshed】

【Main Quest: Escape the Scarlet Theater】

…When Charlie calmly said “This world is inherently unfair,” Qi Si finally caught that trace of dissonance he had always vaguely felt but couldn’t confirm—

The “unfairness” of this instance was too obvious.

Admittedly, the Eerie Game itself couldn’t achieve absolute fairness; issues of luck, varying player strengths, and instance difficulty were all manifestations of unfairness.

But the Eerie Game never truthfully informed players of this underlying logic.

Quite the opposite, it would give players the hint that everyone was at the same starting point and that the instance was impartial. Only in this way could it meet players’ safety expectations and make them willing to struggle for survival.

Yet Charlie had the audacity to speak of “unfairness” and never hid this unfairness in the design of the Role Card element… This left Qi Si with no choice but to doubt: were some of Charlie’s actions really due to the instance’s own mechanisms?

In “Shuangxi Town,” Qi Si learned from Xu Yao that some important NPCs in instances have their own consciousness, and killing people in the instance is also part of a deal with the Main God. Moreover, this deal is not strict; such NPCs can sometimes do things according to their own wishes.

So, could Charlie be in a similar situation?

Was deliberately transforming the Identity Cards, which belonged to the game mechanism, into the hybrid “Role Cards” done to avoid the Eerie Game’s attention?

His consciousness drifted in the darkness for an unknown amount of time before finally landing on solid ground.

Qi Si opened his eyes and found himself sitting in a high-backed chair.

The round table was empty, and he was the only one sitting there.

He was still in the theater, but the surrounding environment was no longer glamorous or brilliant. The smell of charred remains drifted past his nose. Looking around, he could only see the blackened ceiling and walls by the faint light.

This was a land scorched by a great fire, abandoned for an unknown amount of time. Embers and dust rose and fell, conveying an atmosphere of a disaster that had already occurred.

Qi Si stood up and walked toward the direction of the faint light.

He saw a hole in the theater’s dome. It was night outside, but moonlight leaked through the gaps.

Five birdcages were placed where the light shone; four were empty, and only one had a figure in a red suit sitting cross-legged inside.

Qi Si looked at the person and smiled with curved eyes: “My Sin, long time no see.”

In the previous scene, he was locked in a cage; in this scene, he was out, but his Sin was locked in—thinking about it was a bit of black humor.

“Long time no see.” The young man in red revealed fine teeth. “If you want to leave, you can stack the cages and climb out from here. This is the only hint; don’t ask me anything else.”

Hearing this, Qi Si let out all the laughter he had been holding back. He laughed while backing away.

Only after backing five steps away did he restrain his smile: “A good induction. In the previous mental space, the player’s true body was locked in a cage while the Sin ran rampant outside; in this space, the situation is the exact opposite.”

He paused, his voice mocking: “A player who has experienced a tragic death has weak willpower and is easily misled into thinking this is a real space opposite the mental space. But frankly, although this scene looks real, that’s all it is.”

“Oh?” The red-clothed youth’s skin began to melt from the top of his head, flowing onto the ground like cooked candle wax, rippling in waves.

The gelatinous slime crawled slowly as if alive, forming a new shape. When it solidified and settled again, the one sitting in the birdcage was a tall, thin figure in black wearing a white mask.

It was still Charlie.

This strange Puppet turned its masked face toward Qi Si and asked, “How did you tell?”

“You said it yourself in the script,” Qi Si said. “Your theater has already been burned down. After all these years, it’s likely been razed to the ground, so how can one escape? The Scarlet Theater we need to escape from has always been your mental space, a ghost realm created by your obsession.”

“Heh heh, a good guess!” Charlie clapped his hands twice. “As expected of the character I favor most! Unfortunately, there’s no reward for the right answer! Characters in a instance don’t have equal rights, and a playwright cannot change the plot at will just because of favoritism. If you have any requests, you can only wait for the play’s curtain call.”

“—Now, Mister No. 1, you can return to your seat and wait for your turn!”

Qi Si didn’t move but continued to speak calmly: “It’s clear you’re a cynical, self-righteous person. Constructing such an evil theater yet leaving behind some boring scripts to mislead us into thinking those bloody methods were just your Puppets’ own initiatives. Mr. Playwright Charlie, how much longer are you going to hide behind the scenes?”

Puppet Charlie remained silent, but countless scarlet eyes suddenly grew on the dark ceiling, staring fiercely at Qi Si below as if they wanted to eat him alive.

Qi Si acted as if he didn’t see them and continued: “You clearly crave the audience’s approval, yet you call yourself an artist and denounce sensationalist acts. Having players repeatedly throw themselves into the plays you created in the form of consciousness is probably just your own plan, right?”

The space shook violently, and a cold wind rose from the ground, howling and flapping the hem of his white shirt.

Qi Si’s tone remained calm: “Players killed by items will truly die; that is the instance’s own mechanism. But you took it upon yourself to exploit players, and the excess sins produced, I bet you don’t hand them over to the game, do you?”

He paused for a breath, then suddenly put a finger to his lips and lowered his voice: “I’m curious, if the Eerie Game finds out about your little tricks, will you still be able to continue cooperating with Him…”

“He won’t know,” Charlie’s voice turned cold. “As long as I kill you, no entity will know.”

“Really? Unfortunately, I don’t believe you…” Qi Si placed his hand over the Pocket Watch of Fate on his left wrist, his smile suddenly becoming full of malice.

He suddenly raised his head and recited in a voice both he and the NPC could hear: “O Lord of Time and Space who wanders the boundary of life and death, Ruler of Fate who governs calamity and blessing…”

“Shut up!” Charlie understood Qi Si’s plan almost immediately, his voice no longer calm as before. “I’ll let you leave, and I can even give you some benefits within my power…”

“No.” Qi Si shook his head.

He raised his hand, and a long scroll of a bright red contract appeared as a phantom in front of him, moving without wind.

On the blood-red background, the golden character for “Contract” shone brightly, flickering like fire and refracting light that blurred the vision.

“Although I don’t know why you need sin, seeing as you’re poaching from the Main God, our positions are aligned. What I want to say is—”

“Why don’t you make a deal with me?”

…【Note】 “Faust” is a play written by German author Goethe, telling the story of Faust making a deal with the devil Mephistopheles.