Chapter 40: 40

The footsteps drew closer.

Heart thumping in the chest cavity and boiling hot blood instantly rushed straight to the eardrums. The buzzing white noise made the surrounding sounds go away in a flash. 

Adrenaline spiked.

Before Mo Yi’s brain had time to react, his body acted before his mind did. Relying on the strength that burst forth at the crisis, he reached out and pulled Wang Zezhi with one hand, escaping to the side hall at the end of the hall.

 

 

Rapid and heavy sounds of footsteps seemed to be approaching from behind!

At the critical juncture, Mo Yi propped his palms on top of the low cabinet which already looked completely brand new, then leapt up, flipping over into the side hall. 

Wang Zezhi also reacted in an instant — he followed closely behind, also jumping into the side hall, and together with Mo Yi, lowered his body in the same place. Then, shrank his body as much as possible, letting the low counter separating the side hall from the hall conceal the figure of the two men.

 

— It all happened in a flash of lightning.

The sound of footsteps entered the hall, pounding on the floor with a rushed, hollow reverberation, as if it were right next to one’s ear.

Uncontrollable anxiety spread to their hearts.

 

Did they move fast enough? Were they seen?

Mo Yi’s heart palpitated extremely fast, and the tense uncertainty caused fine sweat to seep from his forehead.

He stretched out his hand to cover his nose and mouth, preventing the sounds of panting from revealing his position.

 

— But the sounds of hurried breathing could still be heard in one’s ears, as if it were a panic-stricken man’s agitated asthma, making one’s heart involuntarily raise as well. 

Mo Yi slightly tilted his head, turning his eyes to look at Wang Zezhi who was crouching beside him.

But he met the same gaze looking at him.

Wang Zezhi’s hands were tightly covering his mouth and nose, his pale, sweaty face filled with an abnormal red flush after exercise, two brown eyes wide open behind the lenses, looking straight at Mo Yi.

Mo Yi was taken aback: If it wasn’t Wang Zezhi … then who could it be? 

The sounds of footsteps in the hall had already stopped.

The only sound that echoed through the empty hall was the ragged panting accompanied by a muffled, hoarse back of the throat, “he he,” making one feel scared inside.

Mo Yi carefully shifted his body, pressing his face into the gap between the counter and the wall, looking out through the gap.

The field of view was thin and narrow, and it was almost impossible to turn about. Mo Yi struggled to find the angle — 

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

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Who could that be? 

The sounds of struggling and gasping became more and more intense and following in the wake were the sounds of “he he”, similar to broken bellows, sounding especially horrifying.

At this moment, the owner of those legs seemed to have found a chance to break free, suddenly bending without warning. With a violent tearing sound, the person seemed to stand up, leaving Mo Yi’s limited line of sight. What followed was a series of chaotic footsteps and frightened gasps —

Just then, only a loud “bang” was heard.

Gunshots. 

Deafening gunfire sounded in the enclosed room, practically jolting numb a person’s ears.

As the gunfire fell, the sounds of gasping fell silent.

A person’s body fell heavily to the floor, and the figure happened to be within Mo Yi’s range of sight.

Mo Yi’s eyes widened imperceptibly. 

It was Sun Xiaoyan.

Her face which was distorted by fear was covered in blood. The grey, lifeless face was turned towards the direction of the side hall, the protruding eyeballs filled with streaks of blood, coagulated, as if the fear still had not dispersed.

Her mouth was wide open. Saliva mixed with fragments of bloody flesh slid down along her chin. There was a neat incision on her fair and slender neck, avoiding the arteries and cutting the throat and vocal cords, exposing the blood red muscle membrane.

Mo Yi’s lips pursed, a complex expression flashing through his eyes. 

What he heard in the hall just now should be the footsteps of two people: One was the pursuer, and one was the victim.

And the reason why Sun Xiaoyan, who had been chased since just now, was so quiet wasn’t because she didn’t want to scream — but couldn’t.

Mo Yi’s eyes fell on the corpse again.

The blood flowed out, gurgling, from the big hole in the corpse’s chest, and gathered with the blood from her throat, forming a pool of blood. 

— It happened to be exactly the same size and location as the large hole in the chest of the newcomer who had died before.

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There seemed to be a chuckle in the air.

 

Mo Yi was startled and attentively listened again — but could no longer hear the laughter that dissipated in the air, as if it were merely an illusion of his.

Just then, new footsteps rang in the quiet hall. 

Steady, unhurried steps, treaded on the pool of blood. There was the slight sound of splashing liquid. Then, once again, it knocked on the smooth floor, making a soft “ke” sound, as if stepping on a person’s heart. Every time, it stepped to the beating rhythm of one’s heart.

Mo Yi subconsciously released a soft breath and attentively watched the hall through the gap.

A man’s back appeared within his field of vision, standing between Mo Yi and Sun Xiaoyan’s corpse.

The clothes on his body were dishevelled and wrinkled, stained with dried and semi-dried blood. There was a new layer of blood layered on top, and it was nearly impossible to make out its original appearance. 

Mo Yi was taken aback — There was something about the color and texture of this clothing that looked familiar to him.

The man lowered his head and looked at Sun Xiaoyan, who was dead but had her eyes open, then bent down, reaching out to firmly grasp her two arms, and dragged her away in the direction of the corridor.

The moment he turned sideways, Mo Yi saw his face clearly.

This man was the newcomer who was once violently angry at him. However, right now there was not a single trace of expression on his face, or even a fluctuation of mood, only a pale and indifferent face. 

And on one of his cheeks —appearing to be scratched by one’s fingernails were deep bloody scars. The half-scratched face had no intact skin and was shocking to see.

Mo Yi held his breath.

The man dragged Sun Xiaoyan’s corpse out of Mo Yi’s limited range of sight.

The sounds of heavy footsteps got farther and farther, and then slowly faded away into the depths of the corridor. 

Wang Zezhi let out a sigh of relief, butt falling on the ground. He stretched out his legs which were stiff and numb from being curled up for too long. It was then that he discovered that in just ten minutes, his body had already been completely soaked with sweat.

He turned his head to look at Mo Yi, about to say something, but was startled by his sudden action.

Mo Yi stayed in place for a short while, then suddenly reached out and pulled the backpack, unzipping it and rummaging for something —

Rustling, in only a moment, Mo Yi took out a rolled-up paper from the bag, and then shook it off, opening it, revealing a group photo in front of the orphanage. 

Mo Yi’s gaze focused on the man on the side of the crowd.

He held his breath, once more extended his fingers, and stroked the clumped “bloodstain” on his cheek in the photo: It was flat and smooth, without the slightest bump and unevenness, and there was no irregular shape of splashed blood.

 

This was not dried blood. Rather, it existed in the photo itself — It was the man’s birthmark.

It was located exactly where the newcomer had been scratching at during this morning. 

Wang Zezhi went over, looked at the photo in Mo Yi’s hand, somewhat confused, and hesitantly asked, “What’s the matter?”

His voice suddenly roused Mo Yi from his train of thoughts.

Mo Yi rolled up the photo in his hand, carelessly stuffed it back into his backpack, then turned his head and looked at Wang Zezhi with a serious face.

His face was pale, eyes appearing all the more pitch-black. At this moment, when looking intently at someone, it always gave people the illusion of directly facing a blade. Mo Yi’s nearly colourless lips pursed and said, “This orphanage is actually a lair to resell orphans. Taking advantage of the population displacement during wartime to make a profit. It was caught in the act, so the real Dean of the orphanage pushed a fake Dean out to take the blame, resulting in her being sentenced to death by hanging, and the real Dean took advantage of the situation to deal with the evidence in the orphanage — which was to kill all the orphans in the basement to prevent them from divulging the secret.” 

Mo Yi’s sudden explanation stunned Wang Zezhi, and he understood in the next second, abruptly becoming serious — this was to help him open the side mission.

Sure enough, as soon as Mo Yi’s voice fell, all that could be heard was that familiar female voice:

“Dang dang dang. Congratulations to Player number 05, Wang Zezhi, for unlocking the hidden storyline of this escape game!

Side missions are now open. Completing side missions will reward rich points. Players, please continue to work hard!” 

Wang Zezhi’s expression relaxed, raising his eyes to Mo Yi gratefully, but was surprised to find that his expression wasn’t as relaxed as his own. Instead, it was more solemn.

After Mo Yi waited for the voice of the female to completely disappear, he raised his pitch-black eyes to look at Wang Zezhi, took a deep breath, and continued, “I suspect that after opening the side mission, the timeline of the entire orphanage is gradually overlapping with the past. And when the hall is completely brand new, it means that the two timelines completely overlap. That is to say —”

“There’s going to be a repeat of the massacre?” Wang Zezhi slightly trembled with fear.

Although he hadn’t seen what happened just now, the blood and the traces of struggle on the ground told him almost everything. 

“… I’m afraid it is.” Mo Yi was silent for a short period, and then said, “And that newcomer should be the executioner.”

A haze of doubts and suspicions gathered in his heart. There were still many doubtful points that haven’t been completely resolved.

Before Wang Zezhi could ask, right away, he saw Mo Yi stand up from the ground. He turned his head to look at the pitch-dark corridor, and said in a deep voice, “I have an idea that needs to be confirmed.”

He pensively looked at the ground, murmuring to himself, “There should be some time before he tries to find us …” 

Mo Yi was lost in thought, pondering over something, and turned, walking outside the side hall — his footsteps stopped in place, gaze falling on the center of the pool of blood.

In the place where Sun Xiaoyan’s corpse was laying just now, shockingly, was a snow-white slip of paper.

 

Bloodstains slowly blotched the surface of the paper, dying several large letters blood red:

“FIND ME” 

Mo Yi suddenly raised his head.

That familiar teddy bear was sitting in the corridor with its back facing the darkness and its cloudy eyes were staring straight at him.

 

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