Chapter 315: The Colosseum (23) “Man was not born to be a beast.”

Nian Fu had a dream, and in it, she seemed to return to the Orphanage where she had spent her childhood.

In the grayish-white light, numerous hurried figures flitted about. Scenes of past experiences flowed before her eyes, and Nian Fu saw “that person” from her memories.

Six years ago, the woman in the long white trench coat was still young. Holding a black umbrella, she walked into the Orphanage, navigating the maze-like corridors with familiarity.

The Director, who was usually bossy and arrogant, was very respectful toward her, following closely while bowing and scraping, explaining something in a low, fragmented tone.

She merely maintained a graceful smile, her every gesture exuding impeccable politeness.

Nian Fu hid behind a pillar, observing cautiously, suspecting the woman was a high-ranking official of the Federation—she was too naive then to imagine what other power could command such reverence.

The woman seemed to have seen her, but said nothing, instead gently asking the Director a few questions.

She didn’t understand much, only that the woman was looking for a child, but the Director clearly hadn’t given a satisfactory answer.

That child wasn’t in the Orphanage, but why would the woman think to look for someone at this particular Orphanage?

“I apologize for disturbing you, but I must trouble you to keep an eye out for us. If you find that child, please inform me immediately,” the woman said courteously to the Director.

The Director repeatedly agreed, but when he turned around and saw Nian Fu eavesdropping nearby, he immediately adopted a fierce expression: “What is your number? Get back to your room!”

Normally, Nian Fu would have run off without a sound to avoid retribution later; but at that moment, she saw the beautiful woman smiling at her, seemingly eager to hear her answer.

So she whispered, “Number 47.”

A strange flicker appeared in the woman’s eyes; that answer was clearly unusual.

The Director was about to curse, but the woman stopped him with a raised hand. The woman walked toward Nian Fu and asked with a smile, “Would you like to come with me?”

Nian Fu opened her eyes. The scenes and sensations of the dream scattered like ink in water, replaced by the damp, moldy smell of the Colosseum instance.

In the darkness of the night, she couldn’t see her own hand. All her senses besides sight became sharper than usual.

She felt an intense hunger, as if a live snake was thrashing around inside her stomach. Her fragile stomach lining was painfully eroded by the emptiness, her vision flashed white, and her entire body’s muscles were pulled into frantic spasms.

She desperately wanted to eat something, but there was nothing available… Extreme deprivation stimulated intense appetite. Only when lacking something could one truly face their desire. Nian Fu suddenly understood the function of food and the mechanism of the death point.

Everyone needed two portions of food daily to stave off hunger. A lack of food would trigger an intense appetite. Appetite is a form of desire, and it accelerates the petrification of the cursed person… But what good was understanding the mechanism?

Nian Fu felt the stiffness below her waist. Reaching down, she confirmed that her legs had indeed turned into cold, hard stone.

She was so hungry, so miserable, but there was nothing she could do except endure until tomorrow… She thought, without apparent reason, that if Qi Si had not lifted the curse on the Ratmen, they would certainly be crawling out from underground right now.

That way, she might have been able to kill a Ratman and hastily solve the food problem—since the raw material for the food was rat meat, wasn’t it?

She wondered if Qi Si hadn’t anticipated this situation, or if he had, but simply didn’t care about the lives of others?

Nian Fu closed her eyes with a bitter smile, her thoughts drifting away.

In her memory, “that person” also didn’t care whether she lived or died, as she wasn’t the one “that person” was looking for.

The lives of countless bystanders were, in “that person’s” eyes, merely “a single step on the staircase to the Apocalypse.”

Yet, she was perfectly willing to be used by “that person.”

In fact, she wanted to obtain an Identity Card so she could be of greater value and walk alongside “that person” toward the conclusion… “Man was not born to be a beast.”

Chang Xu opened his eyes in the room where the “Wolf” mask hung, the last whisper of the dream scattering in his ears.

This instance gave him a very uncomfortable feeling. Everything from the theme to the rules felt vaguely familiar, inevitably stirring up those dark, deeply buried imprints in his memory.

This discomfort peaked after chasing Qi Si into the Underground Cavern.

He saw the familiar scene of the Orphanage. The light gray memories regained vivid color, and scenes flashed before his eyes. Only then did he realize he had never truly let go.

“Colosseum”—he seemed to have been closely linked to these three words since childhood.

He was born able to see Ghosts. Since he could remember, he had lived in the Orphanage, sitting in the corner accompanied by Ghosts. No one taught him how to be a normal person; the Ghosts could only teach him slaughter and hatred.

The bestial instinct in his genes was triggered by the resource-scarce environment. He adapted well to the Law of the Jungle, where the weak are prey, and used his innate, superhuman martial power to seize more and more resources.

Initially, he was ostracized, then he was revered. The children who had previously relied on the rules of human society gradually humbled themselves after suffering losses, and many began seeking his protection. He was happy to oblige.

Until one day, he accidentally beat someone to death.

In fact, that person’s death couldn’t be entirely blamed on him. He had simply knocked down an opponent fighting for resources, just as he always did, but he hadn’t known the other person had Asthma.

The person’s distant relatives heard the news and came demanding compensation from the Director, even bringing in people from the Security Bureau, who uncovered many death incidents.

The Director naturally denied abusing children and pushed most of the blame onto Chang Xu, as his strangeness and terrifying nature were obvious to all.

Chang Xu, who was still a few months shy of eighteen, sat bewildered in the Security Bureau’s Detention Room, unable to understand many things.

The Law of the Jungle was deeply ingrained after more than ten years of application. The death of companions was common. He didn’t understand why, in what was merely another death incident similar to those before—where the victim died because they were inferior—he, the victor, was being punished.

He didn’t know how long he sat there bewildered. Finally, the iron door opened, and Ning Xu, who was only about twenty-five or twenty-six at the time, walked in and took him to the Eerie Investigation Bureau.

He began receiving various training sessions on dealing with the eerie, while also learning the knowledge and concepts of human society.

Ning Xu told him, “Man was not born to be a beast.”

Thus, he learned that killing was wrong. He should use his power to save people and become someone who was respected and appreciated.

Even in the Eerie Game, despite encountering many players who, by this standard, couldn’t be counted as human, and even though he eventually realized that most people around him were beasts in human skin… he still wanted to be a “person” according to universal values.

Everyone was trapped deep within the massive Colosseum, and he, too, was closely bound by the Colosseum Game of the weak being preyed upon by the strong, yet he knew clearly:

He did not like this life.

“I feel hungry.” In the silence, Liu Yuhan stated, “We are missing one portion of food, and we are also lacking many other resources.

“The other players don’t trust us and won’t be willing to help us. We can only rely on ourselves.”

…In the room where the “Lion” mask hung, Lin Ye and Fan Zhanwei were simultaneously awakened by a sudden onset of hunger.

Lin Ye loudly cursed “Wocao,” immediately followed by spasms of dry heaving.

Fan Zhanwei silently sat up from the straw bed and lit an Oil Lamp.

【Name: Ordinary Oil Lamp】

【Type: Item】

【Effect: Primary function is illumination; may slightly increase the negative emotions of human entities under its light】

【Note: Flickering light is more conducive to the growth of fear than complete darkness】

“Dead Face, stop standing there! Quickly think of a solution!” Using the light of the Oil Lamp, Lin Ye clearly saw the right half of his shoulder, which had completely turned to marble, making him restless and agitated.

“I only believed your nonsense and came back with you because you said you had a way to lift the curse! Now what? If you don’t find a way to remove this curse soon, I’ll turn completely into a stone statue and die!”

Six hours ago, after the two returned to the room, Fan Zhanwei immediately cut his wrist to draw blood and smeared it onto Lin Ye’s semi-petrified arm, but it failed to cause any change.

Players were not gods to each other and lacked faith, so their blood naturally couldn’t lift the curses on one another.

In this instance, the curse would be a long-term debuff on the players, clinging to them like maggots to bone.

Lin Ye was about to erupt right there, but Fan Zhanwei calmly analyzed the pros and cons for him.

First, excessive emotional fluctuation would lead to the growth of desire, accelerating the petrification process. He should suppress his desire by going to sleep immediately to delay the curse’s spread.

Second, Qi Si’s blood likely held a secret; he might have briefly possessed the status of a Deity due to the effect of an Item. They could go to the Underground Cavern tomorrow morning to search for Qi Si’s body and use his blood to lift the curse.

Finally, Fan Zhanwei solemnly promised Lin Ye that by tomorrow, he wouldn’t have to worry about the curse anymore.

Lin Ye chose to obey, half-believing and half-doubting. After eating a bowl of rat meat, he fell asleep and had a chaotic dream filled with bothersome events from his past.

In the dream, his parents were still alive, earnestly urging him to settle down and start a family, to be an ordinary person valuable to society, unaware that this world had long ago solidified into stone, and no matter how much the lower class struggled, they would only end up battered and bruised.

He threw a huge fit in his dream. After waking up, he discovered new changes in the curse on his body. His emotions could no longer be suppressed and finally erupted violently, triggering the curse’s progression along with his appetite.

Gray petrification spread wildly across his skin, growing along his tendons and bones at a visible rate. Lin Ye felt his body temperature turn cold piece by piece. The connection to his limbs grew faint, and they were already difficult to control.

The fear of death surged in waves. Unable to sit up, he could only lie on the straw bed and glare at Fan Zhanwei: “This… is what you meant by… not having to worry?”

Then he saw his teammate, who usually appeared dull and easy to bully, pull out a handgun and aim it at his temple: “Death ends all worries, and you won’t live until tomorrow.”

The gunshot rang out in the room. Blocked by the heavy stone door, it bounced and echoed off the stone walls, unable to travel any further.

Fan Zhanwei calmly put away the gun, looking at the corpse on the ground with wide, unblinking eyes. A gruesome bullet hole was embedded in the corner of the forehead, spilling out a large amount of blood mixed with yellowish-white brain matter.

At the same time, a cold Electronic Voice sounded mockingly:

【A team member has been detected as deceased. Congratulations on acquiring all his remaining resources.】

【Survivor, please live on carrying the hopes of the sacrificed.】

Fan Zhanwei saw the amount of points in front of him change to three thousand two hundred. He immediately turned around, took the Lion mask off the wall opposite the door, and hung it on a hook on another wall.

The Sphinx opened its eyes and feigned surprise: “I didn’t expect you to be the first one to seek me out.

“I recall your initial desire was for me to tell you the answer to a question. I wonder if your desire has changed now.”

Fan Zhanwei closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again: “No change. It still falls under the category of ‘Thirst for Knowledge.’ But before my desire is fulfilled, I want to ask you—if you cannot answer my question, what will happen?”

In Greek Mythology, Hera sent the Sphinx to sit on a cliff near the city of Thebes, where she blocked passersby, asked them a riddle taught by the Muses, and ate those who failed to answer. When Oedipus guessed the correct answer, the Sphinx, overwhelmed with shame, threw herself off the cliff and died.

Ever since Fan Zhanwei heard the name “Sphinx,” he had been arranging and analyzing all related information in his mind. He always felt that a certain link was missing from the myth, making the entire story’s logic bizarre.

The Sphinx questioned passersby on behalf of Hera. What role did Hera play in this?

Why did the Sphinx feel ashamed when the riddle was solved, and why did she ultimately throw herself off the cliff and die?

“If I cannot answer your question, I will die,” the Sphinx said in a flat tone. “And you will be able to meet that Deity and ask Him the answer.”

The details deliberately omitted from the myth surfaced.

The Sphinx, as a symbol of Wisdom, questioned mortals with Hera’s riddle. The solving of the riddle merely proved that the person possessed sufficient Wisdom.

Only if the person asked a question the Sphinx did not know the answer to, would it prove their Wisdom surpassed the Sphinx’s, causing it shame.

An existence symbolizing Wisdom, surpassed in Wisdom by a human, naturally had no reason to continue existing.

It would be replaced, and the lofty Deity would be happy to grant a glance to such a supremely intelligent human.

“I understand.” Fan Zhanwei rarely showed a smile. “I’ve accumulated three thousand points. Please answer my question as promised—”

“Suppose there is a Lunatic who wants to compete with you in killing people. Whoever kills more people within a limited time wins. If you win, nothing happens; if you lose, he will destroy the entire world.

“Please tell me, what must be done so that everyone survives?”

The number in the points column rapidly decreased, finally settling at two hundred.

Gray streaks of marble started climbing up from Fan Zhanwei’s heels, encasing the parts below his waist in stone in just a few seconds.

Indulging the growth of desire stimulates the curse’s effect. This was what he had just told Lin Ye, yet it was now manifesting on himself.

Desire is often most aggressive right before fulfillment. Fan Zhanwei knew this clearly, but he had no intention of backing down.

—What he was planning was immense.

The Sphinx’s crescent-shaped eyes curved, the light flickering within them—whether pity or mockery, it was unclear: “Are you sure you want to ask this question?”

Fan Zhanwei’s shoulders trembled slightly, not from fear, but from excitement.

The stone had already passed his waist and was climbing up his spine. The moment his desire was fulfilled would be the moment of his death.

He stared at the Sphinx, enunciating every word as he added the final condition: “Including the Lunatic. Everyone must survive.”