Chapter 316: Colosseum (24) “You’d better pray he really comes back to life.”

In the dark space, Qi Si overturned the chessboard after losing another game of chess.

Qi waved his hand, and the black and white grid of the chessboard and the chess pieces shattered, scattering into a thin gray mist.

He smiled and commented, “Your chess etiquette is really poor.”

“I never expend energy on games I don’t like,” Qi Si said.

He paused, as if remembering something, and asked, “Do you still remember the question you asked me after the Shuangxi Town instance?”

Qi snapped his fingers, and silver-white text appeared in the void.

“Suppose there’s a madman who wants to compete with you in killing. Within a limited time, whoever kills more people wins.

“If you win, nothing will happen; if you lose, he will destroy the world. What would you choose?”

This question, though seemingly absurd, truly ran through the entirety of the Eerie Game.

Tens of thousands of eerie instances, four million people involved over thirty-six years—all actions and choices revolved around one question:

Can the majority be saved by sacrificing the minority?

Is someone who kills tens of millions to save the world a savior or a sinner?

“I remember you already told me your choice.” Qi extended his index finger to pick up a speck of light, and old scenes unfolded before them.

In the dim temple, strangely shaped golden light spots flickered and drifted. Amidst bizarre scenes of sunrise and moonset, tides ebbing and flowing, the past Qi Si laughed wildly: “Remember to tell me before you destroy the world. I’ll find a spot with a good view and watch while eating popcorn.”

The current Qi Si bared his teeth, revealing a brilliant smile: “For me back then, I wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice everyone for even a tiny personal gain; conversely, even if only a tiny personal sacrifice could make everyone better off, I would absolutely refuse.”

“And now?” Qi asked, though he already knew the answer. “Have your thoughts changed?”

“No.” Qi Si smiled and shook his head. “I’m just thinking about the origin of this question and the corresponding relationships between its various factors.

“There’s never a standard answer to such a question; it merely depends on each person’s choice. With different criteria, the optimal solution changes.

“If I were an extreme environmentalist, I might think doing nothing and simply clearing out all of humanity is quite good; if I were a utilitarian, I would unhesitatingly choose to participate in the killing competition, saving the world by sacrificing the minority.

“If that’s the case, what’s the point of such a question? If it’s not a fictional hypothesis and model, but a real disaster happening in the world, how many people can truly live up to their righteous declarations?

“Moreover, I suddenly feel that playing the game by the madman’s rules seems a bit foolish.”

Qi raised an eyebrow: “Oh? You seem to be about to tell me an interesting answer.”

“It is quite interesting.” Qi Si looked up directly into Qi’s eyes and asked, word by word, “Tell me—if I kill that madman, will this question still hold true?”

Qi smiled: “You actually want to save the world? That’s a bit unexpected.”

“No.” Qi Si shook his head again. “I just find it annoying that the button to destroy the world is in that madman’s hands. Rather than leaving destiny to others, I’m more inclined to snatch the button and press it myself.”

“Interesting answer.” Qi smiled even more happily. “There was once someone who also chose this path, but unfortunately, he didn’t succeed and lost terribly.

“He lost everything, including his name, identity, body, and experiences, becoming a wandering lonely ghost in the world.”

“So?” Qi Si narrowed his eyes. “Is this a threat, trying to make me retreat in the face of difficulty?”

“Quite the opposite.” Qi sighed with a smile. “I’m very curious about your outcome, after all, tragedies often move people more.”

Qi Si tilted his head, a bright smile on his face: “I’ll win. Because I don’t seem to have anything too valuable to lose.”

…Before the Sphinx’s lion face, everything below Fan Zhanwei’s neck had turned to stone. Rugged stone protrusions formed sharp angles at his joints, and the pervasive cracks made him resemble an ancient stone mountain.

The grayish-white color of marble spread to his chin, its speed of diffusion slowing, but still steadily climbing upwards.

He seemed oblivious, his gaze fixed intently on the Sphinx, awaiting its answer.

The trolley problem has no standard answer, and it’s even harder to find a solution that satisfies everyone.

As a thought experiment in ethics, its core is merely to force people to make choices in extreme situations, thereby giving rise to a series of debates about morality and ideals.

Fan Zhanwei, as a human with moral judgment standards, could provide a less-than-perfect answer to such questions. In other words, this question was valid in a strict sense.

But the Sphinx had no human ethics or morals; by what standard would it provide an answer?

Moreover, Fan Zhanwei had added the harsh condition of “all surviving” to the question.

As long as the Sphinx couldn’t answer, Fan Zhanwei could bypass it to question the gods, completing the main quest, “Audience with the Gods.”

At that time, he would be able to request the gods to meet other players, or allow him to briefly possess some divine traits, and then go to meet others.

In this way, all other people would also complete the main quest and leave the instance.

This was Fan Zhanwei’s plan, consistent with the utilitarian principle of sacrificing one to save the majority.

Lin Ye was the sacrifice he had decided upon from the very beginning.

It didn’t necessarily have to be Lin Ye; anyone, as long as they were in his team, he would kill them to gain points.

The sacrifice of a few was a perfectly reasonable matter, just like in the building collapse accident ten years ago, his parents were among the fewer trapped individuals and were therefore prioritized last by the rescue team, eventually being carried out mixed with other corpses.

At that time, he had little knowledge and shallow understanding, unable to comprehend the rationality of it. When he was blocked outside the cordon, he could only grab every passing rescuer, begging them to save his parents.

But now he wouldn’t do that anymore. After extensive study and reading, he had a greater understanding of human society, and thus knew what choices were more beneficial for the development of civilization.

Time passed minute by minute, and the petrification reached his head, yet Fan Zhanwei remained calm, staring at the Sphinx.

The Sphinx suddenly chuckled.

“The answer to this question is very simple.” The half-human, half-beast monster looked at Fan Zhanwei, who was almost unrecognizable, and said with a tone of pity, “You just need to stop that madman from killing, disrupt all his plans at all costs, and if the game is a draw, no one needs to die.”

Fan Zhanwei’s pupils constricted slightly, wanting to retort that it was impossible.

Moreover, a draw wasn’t among the conditions set in the problem; the Sphinx’s answer didn’t meet the requirements, it was a loophole… However, his face was entirely covered in lime, hard as stone, making it impossible to even twitch his lips, let alone speak a complete sentence.

He suddenly realized that the Sphinx had cheated. The rule-maker had the privilege of interpreting the rules, and he had actually thought all gambits would proceed according to the rules.

Upon realizing this, he was like a good student who had just left the exam room only to be reminded of a missed condition, immediately coming up with a new, viable plan.

He was convinced this plan would work; he was convinced that if he had a second chance, the outcome would be different.

Unfortunately, it was too late… On the game forum, ever since Lin Chen used a Jiuzhou Guild member’s live stream to denounce the Jiuzhou Guild’s actions, related discussions had sprung up like mushrooms after rain, practically dominating the entire board.

Several related posts quickly shot to the hot topics list. As soon as an old one was banned by an administrator, a new one would pop up, making it impossible to ban them all. The fire soon spread to the forum itself, with banned users creating alternate accounts to return, subtly implying that the forum was a mouthpiece for the Jiuzhou Guild.

Those initial bans even provoked players’ rebellious psychology. Even those who were originally indifferent and didn’t plan to get involved had their emotions stirred, speaking out one after another and flaunting their violation records as badges of honor.

“Heh, Jiuzhou isn’t doing this for the first time. Whenever a new guild emerges, Jiuzhou people invite their key members to a Hongmen Banquet. If they survive, they survive. If not, they’re done for.”

“No wonder no new guilds have emerged for so many years; turns out Jiuzhou has been suppressing them. Always talking about human destiny and unity, it sounds fake, and I’ve disliked them for a long time. They talk a good game, but ultimately it’s just factionalism.”

“That Lin Crow is really tough, directly declaring war on Jiuzhou. A true man, Unnamed Guild is awesome! I have a hunch that if the Unnamed Guild can survive this ordeal, their future is absolutely limitless!”

“Jiuzhou constantly bullies the weak and exploits newcomers. This time, they probably wanted to manipulate a new guild as usual, but they seem to have hit a tough spot…”

The 楼主 of one post wrote indignantly: “Jiuzhou has changed; it’s just a big bad wolf in sheep’s clothing! Twenty-two years ago, when Ark was still around, they never acted like moral police everywhere like they do now?”

“Back then, Lin Jue, despite setting up an idealist persona and constantly advocating ‘all humanity united,’ never ruthlessly eliminated those who opposed him. Unlike now, where everyone is required to agree with that slogan, and if you don’t, you’re labeled a Slaughter-path player.

“During the Ark era, if something happened, they’d be the first to step up; Jiuzhou, on the other hand, if something happens, they first drag out a Slaughter-path player and kill them as a warning. And they still have the nerve to say they inherited Ark’s legacy?”

These words received unanimous agreement from all sides. They all yearned for the legendary Ark Guild and Guild Leader Lin Jue, and criticized the current Jiuzhou.

Some even said: “Jiuzhou won’t get better; even Fu Jue, the only decent person, was driven away.”

Completely forgetting that Fu Jue had been forced to resign from the guild not long ago by them with similar rhetoric.

Of course, some more rational players raised doubts:

“Why are you so certain that Jiuzhou is persecuting them? Is there a possibility that Qi Si is really a Slaughter-path player?”

“Use your brain. Jiuzhou has built such a good reputation for so long; there’s no need to risk ruining their reputation to deal with a new guild. Could it be that someone time-traveled from the future to tell them that the Unnamed Guild is the final winner?”

“By the way, could chasing after Qi Si be Chang Xu’s personal action? I often watch Chang Xu’s live streams and know this guy can be a bit impulsive…”

Rational people are, after all, a minority within a group. These players were quickly attacked by other players, labeled as “objective neutrals,” “apologists,” and “Jiuzhou member alt accounts.”

The public opinion in the forum was unbearable; the witch hunt had spiraled out of control in its later stages. Most accounts that could be linked to the Jiuzhou Guild could only remain silent to avoid drawing fire after their affiliations were checked.

A few who couldn’t stand it and spoke out were immediately collectively besieged by other players, with a barrage of creative insults hurled at them.

—Humans never care about the truth… In the Ruins of the Sunset, a large screen hung high above the square, broadcasting the live stream of the Colosseum instance where Lin Chen was located in real time.

If there were well-informed players, they would recognize this as a service called “Private Screening” in the Eerie Game store.

Any player could spend 500,000 points to designate a certain live stream to be publicly shown on the big screen in the Ruins of the Sunset, visible to all players who entered the Ruins of the Sunset during a specific period.

This service was mostly used to promote certain individuals. In the past, famous people like Fu Jue, Meng Wenfei, Lin Jue, and Xiao Fengchao had appeared on the big screen, either funded by their guilds or by themselves.

However, with the stabilization of power dynamics in the game and the development of the game forum as a larger publicity channel, the big screen hadn’t been used for a long time.

Players, seeing the long-unseen “Private Screening,” discussed it animatedly:

“The Unnamed Guild is really rich; they’re determined to ruin the Jiuzhou Guild’s reputation.”

“That Lin Crow is truly ruthless, leaving no room for retreat, decisive and swift. In ancient times, he would definitely be a hero.”

“Wait, isn’t Lin Crow in an instance? How did he arrange a private screening? Did he foresee encountering Jiuzhou people beforehand?”

Players speculated wildly, gradually reaching a consensus:

First, although the Unnamed Guild is newly established, it has deep pockets and should not be underestimated, easily able to produce 500,000 points.

Second, the Unnamed Guild Leader Lin Crow possesses great courage, strategizing and planning flawlessly, even from within the instance, he managed to throw the outside world into chaos through his arrangements.

Third, the Unnamed Guild is extremely protective of its own. Whether it’s an excuse or not, the fact that the Guild Leader personally risked entering the instance to rescue a member is true. Now they are locked in a death feud with the Jiuzhou Guild.

In a time of great contention, various conflicts surfaced. Although Jiuzhou’s support rate still led, its prestige had been shaken by repeated public opinion battles.

Giving a little earns gratitude, giving much earns resentment. A guild that has always played the role of a patriarch, once it fails to meet the expectations of the majority, will invite furious backlash.

Many players were happy for a new guild to emerge and cause trouble for Jiuzhou, so they could fish in troubled waters.

On the big screen, Lin Chen entered the underground cave at the beginning of the Colosseum Game, lifting the ratmen’s curse with his own blood and successfully gaining their allegiance.

Three Jiuzhou Guild members were swarmed by the ratmen, pinned to the ground, and restrained.

The live stream was from the first-person perspective of a female Jiuzhou Guild player, so all players watching saw Lin Chen looking down at them, as if they were pigs or dogs waiting to be slaughtered.

The young man’s lips curled into a cold sneer, his tone chilling: “Qi Si still has a chance to revive, so I won’t kill you for now. You’d better pray he really comes back to life.”