Chapter 406: Snow Mountain (VI) “A Dead Man’s Skull”

“Let’s see if there are any useful clues first.” Qi Si withdrew his gaze and walked toward the nightstand on the left side of the wooden bed, pulling open drawers one by one to search.

Lin Chen nodded and began searching the nightstand on the right, deliberately avoiding the Six-Armed Mahakala statue on the desk, as if a simple touch would bring misfortune.

He felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu. In the ‘Rose Manor’ instance, he and Qi Si had shared a room and collected clues this way before.

Back then, he was just a clueless university student. He never expected the world to undergo such a drastic change in just two months. He also changed from only wanting to survive to now hoping to do something for Qi Si.

“Lin Chen, do you still have the 【Necromancer】 card?” Qi Si asked abruptly.

Lin Chen was slightly startled, but then he remembered. Like Qi Si, he possessed two Identity Cards. 【Plague Doctor】 was already bound, while 【Necromancer】 was safely tucked away in his backpack.

The first thing he did after seeing the Revelation Fragment Stele was to examine the two cards, finding no abnormalities; he checked them again yesterday, yielding the same result.

“It’s still with me,” Lin Chen replied, trusting him completely. “I keep it in my item bar. I can’t bind it, and I can’t seem to give it away. I don’t know what it’s for.”

Qi Si couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, but he still hummed in acknowledgment, dropped the subject, and continued rummaging through the drawers.

The drawers in the guest room appeared empty at first glance. Presumably, after every guest left, the innkeeper would routinely clean up, ensuring no garbage remained.

However, judging by the dust buildup and scattered wood shavings at the bottom of the drawers, the cleaning job was not meticulous; at the very least, they hadn’t been wiped with water.

If previous occupants intended to leave information, it would be easy enough. At the very least, Qi Si immediately thought of many ways to hide clues, including but not limited to stuffing notes into wood crevices.

There were no electric lights in the room, and the light was too dim. Qi Si directly pulled a candle stub from the candlestick and shone it into the depths of the drawer, illuminating the dusty black bottom in a dull yellow glow.

The inside of the drawer was dirtier than the outside. The wooden surface seemed to be covered in a layer of wax, which, when heated by the candle flame, caused the uneven, sticky substance to softly squirm, resembling a festering ulcer on a wound.

Qi Si moved the candle away, took a handkerchief from his backpack, and gently wiped away the melted wax. The messy scratches, now exposed, revealed twisted strokes that exuded palpable fear and madness.

【Mirror?】 【I don’t remember…】 【Mirror?】 【Who am I?】 【Mirror?】 【Mirror】 【Mirror】 【Mirr…】

Except for the first few phrases, all subsequent writings were the same content. The strokes became increasingly messy and harder to recognize, eventually turning into graffiti resembling ghost talismans. One could almost picture how the person carving these words gradually lost their sanity, consumed by this endless Snow Mountain.

Why carve the same words so many times? What didn’t he remember, and why would he doubt who he was?

He must have discovered something utterly terrifying, felt that he was about to die, and, not knowing who to tell, decided to record his discovery in a hidden place.

Yet, when he prepared to carve the words, he found that the wooden board was already densely covered with carvings, all in his handwriting, of which he had absolutely no memory… So, what exactly did he see in the mirror?

Qi Si’s interest was piqued. He got up, walked around the room, and turned into the corner washroom.

A huge mirror stood prominently before him, deeply embedded in the wall. As soon as he entered, he could see his reflection inside.

If the light were a little dimmer, he might hallucinate a person of similar stature walking toward him, standing face to face.

Qi Si leaned against the doorframe and watched his reflection—a figure in red clothes and black hair—for a moment, finding nothing unusual.

The mirror seemed to be just an ordinary mirror. The person in the mirror was identical to him in appearance and demeanor—pale skin, gentle features—and did not suddenly smile, as often depicted in horror movies.

Qi Si tilted his head. The figure in the mirror made the same movement, his reflection visible in its scarlet eyes.

Perhaps because he had stared for too long, or because the uncanny valley effect was kicking in, for a split second, he felt the mirror figure’s gaze was inexplicably cold and desolate.

A sense of dissonance suddenly arose, as if a switch had been flipped, and the scene displayed on the mirror began changing, bit by bit.

Qi Si noticed that while he was clearly inside the inn, with a brownish-yellow wooden wall behind him, the figure in the mirror stood amidst thick white snow. The red suit trousers were blurred into a grayish-pink by snowflakes, and the blood-colored cloak fluttered wildly in the gale.

That person still maintained his appearance and demeanor but exuded a palpable unfamiliarity, as if it weren’t a mere reflection but a person with a face similar to his own.

“Another me?” Qi Si reached out and touched the mirror surface, his index finger meeting the figure’s. “If I’m not mistaken, your name is ‘Zhou Ke’…”

He had initially suspected that Qi had left some arrangement that was conveniently buried in the thirty-six years of missing memories and thus unknown to him. Later, he thought it might be a mechanism inherent to the extra Identity Card, automatically generating a suitable holder.

But now, considering it, was there a possibility that the tendrils of the Final Instance had been planted in reality long ago, and all the anomalies he had encountered previously were also part of the Final Instance, destined to receive their final judgment on this Snow Mountain?

There were too few clues; all his thoughts were merely speculation, not definitive conclusions.

But if there truly was another him, with the enemy hidden and him exposed, and the initiative undecided, he was undoubtedly at a disadvantage in this game.

Just like his replica was to his original self in ‘Dialectical Game’.

Qi Si stood in front of the mirror for a while, belatedly feeling cold. The wind, carrying ice shards, whipped against his face and body, stealing all his body heat and making his already low temperature drop further.

His exposed skin felt a stinging pain like knife cuts. The cold penetrated to his bones; the sharp ache reached his marrow and spread throughout his body along his meridians.

Qi Si saw the figure in the mirror unconsciously lean forward slightly, wrapping its hands around its front to shield against the wind and snow, and belatedly realized he had made the exact same movement.

The sudden cold was not a baseless synesthesia; it was genuinely affecting him through the mirror. He felt as if he were in the icy wilderness, just like his mirror counterpart, suffering the ravages of the cold wind.

The scene in the mirror was also not static; it kept receding. To be precise, the figure in the mirror was moving forward.

Qi Si saw a mountaineering knife stuck diagonally in the snow near the mirror figure’s right foot, and he suddenly had an interesting idea.

So, he slowly bent down and reached his hand toward his left foot, watching the mirror figure’s action change with his movement: the hand reached for the mountaineering knife near its right foot, and the index finger slashed hard across the blade.

A sharp pain came from his fingertip. Qi Si looked down and saw a smooth cut appear on his own index finger, from which blood was profusely flowing.

The mirror figure’s index finger was also bleeding, but its face showed no emotion like surprise, nor did it make any further movements, as if it were merely an illusion projected by Qi Si in the mirror, without thought, consciousness, or autonomy.

Qi Si sucked the wound on his finger, speculating with great interest about the function of this mirror and the relationship between the mirror figure and himself.

Based on his understanding of himself, if the figure truly wanted to conceal its existence, a small injury on the finger could be completely ignored, and with his acting skills, he could certainly ensure no one noticed anything unusual.

So, should he inflict a more fatal injury?

Considering that injuries in the mirror would also appear on himself, Qi Si decisively abandoned the idea of self-mutilation.

Ultimately, no matter which ‘him’ it was, the essence was “Qi Si,” and the conflict could be temporarily set aside. If the clam and the snipe fought, allowing Jiuzhou and Tingfeng to reap the benefits, he would probably laugh himself half to death.

“Brother Qi, I found some records here; they look like a diary,” Lin Chen’s voice came from the nightstand area, interrupting Qi Si’s thoughts.

Qi Si gave up on further studying the inexplicable mirror and walked over.

Lin Chen had found a thread-bound notebook. The cover had been soaked in water and then dried, making it uneven like dead skin, and its surface was covered with large and small yellow patches.

Fortunately, the handwriting inside was still clear, neat like print. Even if the ink of a few words was blurred, the general content could be inferred from the context.

Indeed, as Lin Chen said, this was a diary, and it seemed to be a record intentionally left by a previous person, with every detail made as clear as possible.

【January 1, 2014, recorded at the Snow Mountain Inn:

【My name is Chu Yining, and I am from the Ark Guild. My last memory was attending the guild mobilization meeting at the Sunset Ruins. I blinked, and when I regained consciousness, I was here.

【Not only me, but Lin Jue is here too. Who knows what the selection criteria are. Lin Jue thinks this must be the Final Instance, and I agree. After all, with the Mother Goddess and Eternal Life involved, it certainly looks the part.

【Besides us, the others who came here are Ji Yi, Zhai Qifan, Zhang Hongbin, Ivan Quinn, Arthur Ross, and Vasilyevna. I’m not sure if we can successfully clear the Final Instance. Let’s plan for the worst. If we fail, I hope these records can be preserved and be helpful to those who come after us.】

【1. The Hymn Society continuously draws believers, who aim to “redeem” travelers through parasitic means. Do not make physical contact with believers. (P.S. This is quite easy to do; just stay calm. Believers walk very slowly; even I, in a wheelchair, can’t catch up ^▽^)】

【2. Most of the indigenous residents of Shangri-La probably want to redeem travelers (Lin Jue found a copy of the’Scripture of Salvation’ at the sutra shop in town; I don’t know if it will still be there when you arrive), so don’t easily trust any NPCs.

【However, the NPCs won’t act recklessly; redemption likely needs to follow certain rules. (P.S. I currently suspect the old man named’Sang Ji’ at the inn wants to redeem people, and he needs the correct room number. He keeps asking everyone he catches for their room number, but none of us told him ˃̶͈ꇴ˂̶͈)】

【3. All extra consumption in Shangri-La requires exchange using “things from the Mother Goddess,” which can be props, souls, or flesh and blood. Lin Jue advises against easily spending props, as there are traps; however, I think exchanging souls and flesh and blood sounds like an even bigger trap~】

【4. It’s normal not to know the main quest or see the system interface; the same goes for us. Lin Jue and I plan to first wander around the town tomorrow, then go up the Snow Mountain to take a look. (P.S. Don’t look out the window when sleeping at night—it’s quite scary; and don’t look in the mirror, same reason.)

【Having planned for the worst, let me say something auspicious: I think the probability of us clearing the Final Instance is quite high, since Lin Jue is here. And according to novel tropes, after fifteen years, it should finally come to an end~】

The last few pages of the diary were stuck together, and no amount of tearing could open them. The information provided on the first page was mostly things Qi Si already knew, except for the detail about “redemption,” which was somewhat helpful to him.

Lin Chen held the diary, his voice sounding rough as he pondered something: “They ultimately failed and stayed here forever.”

“Yes,” Qi Si said, lying flat on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “If they had succeeded, we would all be back home right now and wouldn’t be appearing in the Sinister Game at all.”

Lin Chen was speechless for a moment.

Those who came in the past arrived full of hope, unaware of the outcome while caught in the situation; those in the future saw their remnants and, with the answer already known, observed the optimism of those caught in the game, feeling only shock.

The people mentioned in the diary were legendary figures from the early days of the Sinister Game. As the first batch of players to enter the game, they struggled to establish a new order and clarified the underlying rules of the instances through countless trials, errors, and sacrifices.

Lin Chen mused that they had struggled in the Sinister Game for fifteen years, possessing far greater ability and experience than he, a newcomer, yet they still died here… Lin Chen thought for a moment and asked, “Brother Qi, do you think we will succeed?”

“I don’t know,” Qi Si said flatly. “Maybe we will, maybe we won’t. We’ve already entered the game; we are destined not to know the answer.”

He knew what Lin Chen was worried about, but in his view, the players who came to this instance eleven years ago might not all be dead.

Lin Jue and Xiao Fengchao’s names hung high on the Revelation Fragment Stele, serving as the holders of 【Dark Judge】 and 【Doomsday Prophet】, respectively.

And it is well known that dead people cannot hold Identity Cards.

Qi Si was inclined to believe that the Sinister Game had been recruiting players over the past thirty-six years, only gathering enough people today to converge in the same instance and compete.

However, were the people truly all gathered? The spaces behind four Identity Cards on the Revelation Fragment Stele were still empty… Lin Chen was silent for a moment, then asked, “Brother Qi, what should we do next?”

“There are too few clues; don’t think about it anymore,” Qi Si said, turning over to face away from Lin Chen and closing his eyes. “Go to sleep early. Tomorrow, we’ll go look around town. I’m very curious what that’Scripture of Salvation’ looks like.”

“Oh, okay!” Lin Chen rustled as he climbed onto the bed, lay down beside Qi Si, and stopped talking.

Qi Si listened to the breathing of the person beside him gradually even out, and he also closed his eyes, but his thoughts continued to drift uncontrollably.

What does true death feel like? Is it like sleep, sinking into a darkness that can never be dispersed?

That would be truly boring…