Chapter 247: Public Accusation: Beware of Lin Chen

In Shanghai, an old house less than thirty square meters.

Lu Zimo opened his eyes in bed and saw Huang Xiaofei sitting at the head of the bed, smoking, enveloped in a misty haze.

He was on high alert, his right hand subtly gripping the thin iron wire hidden in the bed crevice.

Huang Xiaofei turned her head to look at him, her eyes blurred by the white smoke, making her emotions unreadable: “Time is running out. I’ll only say some things once. Remember as much as you can.

“The bank cards and passbooks are all under my bed, along with some other things, a heavy box. You can deal with them yourself later. All account passwords are…”

“I’m dead,” Lu Zimo interrupted. “Cheng An killed me.”

He found himself more composed than he had imagined. Perhaps there was nothing worth lingering for in life, or perhaps he had finally torn off the facade with Huang Xiaofei, leaving no regrets.

Or… perhaps it was simply because in the face of death, everyone is equal. Whether one faces it calmly or hysterically, it makes no difference to the outcome.

Huang Xiaofei looked at him calmly, showing no surprise, as if she had long anticipated this result.

Two people with only half an hour left to live sat opposite each other. No matter how much love, hate, resentment, or discord there was between them, they didn’t know where to begin.

“Useless!”

Huang Xiaofei suddenly raised her hand and slapped Lu Zimo.

Lu Zimo turned his head, silent, as if he had reverted to being the younger brother who obeyed his elder sister’s every word.

Silence spread through the cramped, dark little room. After a long quiet, Huang Xiaofei said, “Come out for a walk with me.”

Lu Zimo stood up without a word and pushed open the door covered in glue stains.

Outside was a bustling street, with bicycles and tricycles crisscrossing.

Amidst the crowded, sweaty smell, an old radio on a modified junk collection vehicle was playing an old song:

“Blood dissolved in water, the red is unseen,

What should be there has always been there.

How much I wish, I wish, I wish to see,

You by my side on that last day…”

…Chuncheng, a small restaurant.

Sun Dekuan woke up with a start from his nap, the fear of that moment of death swirling in his heart, the sensation of his throat being pierced by the Cursed Pendulum and the pool water filling his nasal cavity lingering.

He sat behind the counter, staring blankly at the crowded hall, the warmth of human activity unable to dispel the coldness around him.

“Boss, a bowl of Tadpole Soup!” a customer ordered loudly.

Sun Dekuan stood up and shouted, “We’re closing today! Everyone go home early, and be careful on the way!”

The customers didn’t know why the usually cheerful fat boss suddenly lost his smile, but none of them planned to leave halfway through their meal. They simply pretended not to hear, sitting in their seats and feasting.

Sun Dekuan felt that saying those two sentences had exhausted most of his strength. The remaining energy was only enough for him to slump back, breathing wearily.

The customer who had ordered urged him a few more times, but seeing his expression was truly too sad and disheartened, they stopped pressing their luck and mumbled as they moved away.

Sun Dekuan laboriously pulled out his phone, staring blankly at the lit screen, and began to think seriously.

He only had half an hour left to live. What should he do?

His will had long been made. His parents had passed away, and he had no particularly close relatives or friends. He had divorced his wife last year after being diagnosed with cancer, and his daughter had been taken away… His wife had a new family, so it was not good to disturb them; his daughter was young and would soon forget him… Finally, Sun Dekuan entered the game forum and clicked the “Post” button… On the morning of April 12th, a public accusation post topped the hot list on the Eerie Game forum.

#Public Accusation: Encountered a Slaughter-path player full of lies and ruthlessness in the Frog Hospital instance#

【1st Floor (OP): My name is Sun Dekuan, I am a chef, and I was killed in the Frog Hospital instance. In half an hour, I will truly die. Before I die, I want to expose this scoundrel who killed all of us.

He went by the alias “Cheng An,” claiming to be a university student. He looked gentle and mild-mannered, but he was more ruthless than anyone. He first pretended to ally with a woman named “Huang Xiaofei,” but then attacked her from behind. Later, he killed her younger brother, “Lu Zimo.” I didn’t want to die, so I had to cooperate with him, but I never expected him to kill me to silence me at the end.

His name and appearance are fake, but I know he has an accomplice named “Lin Chen.” I’m not sure if that name is real. I also know his skill is related to the Contract; once a Contract is signed, his commands cannot be defied. He also has a weapon that looks like a red Cursed Pendulum.

Everyone, when you clear instances in the future, if you encounter him, you must be careful.】

The post was made yesterday afternoon, and after half a day, there were over a hundred replies.

It must be said that Sun Dekuan had good verbal expression skills; the events were described concisely, clearly, and logically.

His observational skills were also very strong. In just one instance, he summarized all of Qi Si’s weaknesses and laid them bare.

The replies below discussed fiercely.

【2nd Floor: Thanks to OP for the information! Rest in peace, OP (candle emoji)】

【3rd Floor: There are more and more scum lately. According to OP’s description, I think that person is probably not a university student, and the accomplice’s name is likely not real either.】

【4th Floor: Disperse, everyone. His weapon and skills are known. As long as this person dares to enter a multiplayer instance again, he’ll be exposed sooner or later (shrug emoji)】

【6th Floor: @Jiuzhou Guild Official, there’s a Slaughter-path player out and about, someone come deal with it! If you want to be the world police, don’t just talk the talk without walking the walk!】

【7th Floor Reply to 6th Floor: If you have the guts, go into the instance. Don’t be so sarcastic here. Jiuzhou has already done so much; they don’t owe you anything.】

【9th Floor Reply to 6th Floor: So eager to jump out, showing off your capabilities? Every man for himself, and the Eerie Game has always been about the survival of the fittest. Blame OP for being too weak, not the other person for being strong.】

【12th Floor Reply to 9th Floor: Lol, you’re so quick to jump out, could you be the scumbag OP is accusing?】

【13th Floor Reply to 12th Floor: Haha, I just curse busybody saints, and a clown immediately fits the description (sweat emoji)】

【16th Floor: Contract and Cursed Pendulum, these two don’t look simple. They probably involve the background of the Eerie Game; the waters are very deep in there.】

【17th Floor: That Contract skill, based on the description, seems to originate from the Puppeteer’s skill “Puppet Threads.” Sera has been increasingly high-profile lately, could they be planning something big?】

【20th Floor Reply to 17th Floor: That’s nonsense. This skill is not on the same level as “Puppet Threads.” Since it’s called a Contract, it must require mutual consent to sign, right? If you refuse to sign, isn’t the skill broken?】

【25th Floor: I’m from the Tingfeng Guild. Let me tell you a recently unsealed secret. The “Contract” was the foundation of the Eerie Game before Twilight of the Gods, and also the underlying logic and means for constructing most instances.】

【29th Floor: Can anyone tell me how a Cursed Pendulum is used as a weapon? I can’t imagine it from this description (facepalm emoji)】

Many people in the post expressed condolences and gratitude to the deceased Sun Dekuan, while others once again argued about moral values. The Six Arts of the Internet still have their place even today.

The post was constantly pushed up by new replies, and gradually, people began to notice the Contract and Cursed Pendulum mentioned in the description, leading their thoughts in absurd directions.

The discussion was unknowingly led to the topics of “the essence of the Eerie Game” and the “Sera Guild,” and the heat further escalated, with replies growing exponentially like a snowball.

Some people who habitually sang a different tune naturally appeared, creating new posts and vying to publish outrageous claims.

#It’s hard not to suspect that a public accusation post with so much heat is meant to build momentum for someone or divert attention#

#Don’t you think there are many suspicious points in that hot public accusation post? Many parts look fake at first glance#

#The Ruins of the Sunset haven’t refreshed any te clearance records for Frog Hospital, you’ve all been fooled#

These people didn’t actually have substantive evidence, nor were they necessarily hot-headed or overflowing with a sense of justice. They simply wanted to use this to show off their uniqueness and true insights, to become the focus and gain attention.

But it’s undeniable that they did find some details that people had overlooked and formed another rather convincing voice—

In fact, there were no such people as Cheng An, Lin Chen, etc., and Sun Dekuan had not died. The public accusation post was just someone with ulterior motives creating a hot topic, wanting to draw the public’s attention to the Sera Guild.

Look, how could a chef with a low level of education have such strong observational and expressive abilities, providing so many effective clues out of thin air?

Even if three Veteran Players were replaced by three pigs, they could still kill people. How could they all be wiped out by a deciphering-type player with low combat power?

If the accused was truly as wise as a demon, aiming for a total annihilation from the start, how could he have leaked so much important information directly pointing to his identity?

Far-fetched and reasonable doubts about subtle details were raised one by one by dissenters. This looked quite intimidating and quickly gathered a crowd of followers waving flags and shouting, clashing with the existing mainstream view.

Unfortunately, the post exposing the perpetrators had been up for a while, and new decisive evidence would likely never appear.

According to the main post, everyone in the Frog Hospital instance died except for the two scumbags who were exposed. Right now, no one could crawl back from hell to respond to the doubts.

Qi Si lay in bed all morning with his phone, refreshing the page every five minutes to monitor the latest public opinion.

The forum’s intellectual trends were as chaotic as ever. He watched silently, having no intention of muddying the waters.

He had long expected the exposure of the Soul Contract and the Cursed Pendulum.

After all, it was standard practice for Veteran Players navigating instances not to use their real names or appearances. If they were to be exposed, only their signature skills and weapons could be used.

It was unrealistic to demand that others agree to a confidentiality clause after leaving the instance every single time. Taking the Frog Hospital incident as an example, he was at a disadvantage between the two parties of the Contract. Adding another inexplicable demand would inevitably arouse suspicion from the other side.

In other words, unless he never used his skills or weapons, exposing his hand was only a matter of time.

He had to make a trade-off: whether to risk exposure in exchange for the successful signing of a Contract. In most cases, his choice was generally the same.

Although the dissenting opinions appearing on the forum conveniently blurred the lines, the situation remained grim.

The “Contract” skill was unique enough that, after this incident, it had likely left an impression in the minds of many players, making them easily triggered by similar keywords and raising their alertness.

Moreover, there were plenty of clever people in the world, and the possibility of them being fooled by a few nonsensical remarks was slim. The existence of suspicious points in the post did not prevent them from taking precautions and beginning research into Contract-type skills.

“It seems I need to reduce the frequency of using Soul Contract and Cursed Pendulum in upcoming instances, and try to use other methods and items.”

Qi Si rolled over, exited the game forum, clicked into happy match, and started playing Level 3507… Nancheng, a single apartment.

Liu Yuhan sat in front of her desk, staring intently at the tablet computer before her.

On the computer screen, the game forum posts were refreshing at a dizzying speed.

Liu Yuhan held the mouse in her right hand, occasionally clicking once or twice to pause the screen, enter a post, screenshot the key information, and paste it into a folder named “Si Qi Evidence.”

The folder was packed with neatly coded images and documents. The images contained minute clues, and the documents held analyses of the corresponding clues.

Ever since Qi Si promised her freedom ahead of schedule if she could find evidence from public clues that could pinpoint him, she had dedicated a significant amount of energy to tracking and investigating Qi Si.

At this moment, pieces of information were lining up before her eyes, and subtle connections linked them together, gradually forming a complete chain of logic.

“According to research by the Tingfeng Guild, skills are fragments of the Authority of the Gods in the Eerie Game setting, making them unique. Although the possibility of similar skills cannot be ruled out, given the special nature of ‘Contract,’ the probability of multiple players mastering it is low.

“‘Cheng An’s’ style of action is reckless and without bottom lines, capable of killing allies at any time, which basically matches the psychological profile of ‘Si Qi.’ Calculating the timeline, there is no conflict; ‘Cheng An’ is an alias for ‘Si Qi.'”

Liu Yuhan pulled a packet of preserved plum slices from the drawer, tore open a small corner, and placed a slice under her tongue.

After she joined the Jiuzhou Guild, Tang Yu sent her a pile of snacks as a welcome gift.

It was her first time receiving a gift from someone else, so she inevitably found it novel and ate a little of each, and—as expected—developed the habit of eating while thinking.

Liu Yuhan popped a few more plum slices into her mouth, then placed her sugar-stained hands directly on the computer keyboard and started typing furiously.

“Si Qi is acquainted with someone using the alias ‘Lin Chen.’ The two must have met in a previous instance and got along well. Unfortunately, the main post contains too little information, so their specific actions are unknown for now.

“If I remember correctly, the Frog Hospital was a Dual-track Dungeon. Based on Sun Dekuan’s description, he, Si Qi, Huang Xiaofei, and Lu Zimo were in one space. Lin Chen was in another space yet still able to provide assistance, indicating considerable strength.

“Since he could cooperate with Si Qi again and tacitly conspire to harm other players, this ‘Lin Chen’ must also be a ruthless character, likely a Slaughter-path player.

“Wait… the name ‘Lin Chen’… *cough, cough, cough*!”

While distracted, Liu Yuhan subconsciously grabbed a handful of plum slices and stuffed them into her mouth, coughing from the sourness.

She got up to pour herself a glass of water, drank it down with a “gurgle,” and simultaneously remembered the origin of this common name.

The Balance Church once made public two sentences from a letter, supposedly the last words of a member who had accomplished great deeds:

【Some twists occurred during the process. I was preempted by someone who cracked the rule and killed me in the instance. That person was very cautious; I didn’t get to see his face.

Barring accidents, three players survived, claiming their names were Chang Xu, Qi Si, and Lin Chen. The first two are suspicious, and I recommend the Church pay close attention to them.】

The cause and effect were unknown; only three names were added to the list of key concerns—

Chang Xu, Qi Si, and Lin Chen.

“Qi Si… Si Qi?”

Liu Yuhan put down the cup, sat back down at the desk, and the hand holding the mouse trembled slightly.

Her brain rapidly processed information and constructed models, and her fingers danced nimbly across the mottled, yellowed keyboard.

“If Si Qi is indeed Qi Si, then this instance must be where everything began: the Rose Manor.

“In the Rose Manor instance, Si Qi used ‘Qi Si’ as an alias to meet Chang Xu and Lin Chen, collaborated to kill the member of the Balance Church, and achieved te clearance.

“Among them, Si Qi and Lin Chen had a closer relationship, while Si Qi harbored some hostility toward Chang Xu, perhaps even having harmed him. Therefore, in the Carnivore instance, Si Qi impersonated Chang Xu and wiped out the other players.

“Chang Xu doesn’t seem to know about Si Qi’s hostility toward him, which was evident in the Hopeless Sea instance; even when killed by him, he believed it was due to the Puppeteer’s manipulation. Thus, in Red Maple Boarding School, the two cooperated to a limited extent.

“Lin Chen was also one of Si Qi’s earliest teammates, but his importance in Si Qi’s eyes was far greater than Chang Xu’s. When they met again in the Frog Hospital instance, they naturally formed an alliance and continued to harm others.”

All speculations were presented in text form on the document, and Liu Yuhan calmed down.

According to her Contract with Si Qi, as long as she submitted this information, she would have fulfilled the agreed-upon terms, and Si Qi would have to release her soul.

But given Si Qi’s personality, would he truly be willing to let go of someone who knew so much?

Si Qi was a genuine skeptic who adhered to the philosophy of cutting the grass by the roots, and he would never allow anyone who might expose his crimes to remain alive.

Liu Yuhan clearly knew that, holding the key evidence, she was like a rabbit standing on a tightrope—a single mistake could lead to her being silenced permanently.

What’s more, Si Qi might never have intended for her to survive from the very beginning.

She didn’t want to die; she had to save herself… “Si Qi is still within the human scope; he shouldn’t be able to control my soul in real-time in reality. Maybe I can find a way to circumvent the clauses we previously signed.

“Subjectively, I cannot proactively do anything detrimental to him, so… what if I ‘accidentally’ leaked internal information about the Balance Church?”

Liu Yuhan’s breathing quickened.

She tore open a bag of potato chips, rapidly grabbed handfuls of them to shove into her mouth, her brain spinning quickly to figure out a countermeasure.

“Heh.”

A soft chuckle suddenly sounded behind her ear, like a hallucination.

Liu Yuhan froze and quickly looked back, only to see the plain white wall.

When the voice sounded again, it was close to her ear, like whispering from a dream:

“Well done, but unfortunately, it’s not enough.”

“The Equilibrium is best at keeping secrets. They did a great job in the past, didn’t they?”