The puzzle was solved.
So that’s it, Xiao Hong, like Gao Yi, did not belong to this instance world, but was a “player” who entered from the outside.
This explained why she could describe the correct monster image and why her memories did not lead to the destruction of space.
Because she was not an “indigenous” of this world, she was not bound by certain rules.
Xiao Hong’s memory was still chaotic, clearly affected by this script.
But from her fragmented words, Gao Yi was still largely able to reconstruct her experience.
From the inner pocket of her uniform, a ticket almost identical to Gao Yi’s was found.
Why almost?
The ticket read 【Instance Ticket: Heart Ghost Mist (Holy Grail 4)】, not 【Holy Grail 5】 like the one in Gao Yi’s hand.
According to Gao Yi’s guess, Xiao Hong should have been, like him, accidentally drawn into the “game” and become a “player.”
However, unlike Gao Yi, her main quest was only 【Solve the script’s puzzle】, and not Gao Yi’s 【Survive twelve hours】.
In other words, she had never received the so-called 【Return Ticket】 from the rewards.
Therefore, she had never been able to return to the real world.
After that, the script restarted, and for some reason, she also became one of the participants in this script.
In each previous cycle, new players would enter the script.
At first, Xiao Hong could still try to communicate with them, wanting to complete the task and leave the script.
But most of the players who entered were unable to communicate; they either went on a killing spree directly in the supermarket or inexplicably rushed into the mist and disappeared.
Thinking about it, if Gao Yi hadn't been affected by the tag system, the one entering this game now should have been that crazy player in the black hoodie.
Of course, the ending was mostly the same: space shattered, monsters appeared, and the script ended.
After a period of time, this script would restart.
And in a new cycle, new players would enter.
Under the influence of this space on memory and perception, Xiao Hong in the cycle found it increasingly difficult to maintain her self.
Such a game went on again and again, until… Gao Yi’s arrival.
“I… I’m not called Xiao Hong, but, but I can’t remember what I’m called anymore…”
At this point, Xiao Hong’s tears flowed uncontrollably, and she sobbed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
Sighing slightly, Gao Yi raised his hand, but didn’t know how to comfort her, so he could only gently pat her shoulder.
Saying something like “I understand how you feel” at this moment would be too disingenuous.
Watching the sobbing Xiao Hong, Gao Yi’s thoughts raced.
First, he ruled out the possibility of other players in the supermarket—a quick double-check through wrist exposure and speech would suffice.
Then, he carefully considered the information that could be utilized.
Regrettably, although Xiao Hong could be considered to have experienced a kind of “time loop” in some sense.
However, under the hypnosis and influence of memory and spirit, and given that most game sessions ended quickly, Xiao Hong couldn’t provide much information.
It could only be said that it indirectly confirmed many of Gao Yi’s conjectures.
“I feel like I’m really going to break down; every time those monsters rush in and kill everyone…”
Xiao Hong finally stopped crying, but her tone was filled with more fatigue and fear.
As expected, trying to defeat those monsters head-on was basically a pipe dream.
Let alone Gao Yi, an ordinary person; the combat power of that black-hooded lunatic on the subway couldn’t possibly take down that pile of monsters.
This also aligned with Gao Yi’s previous judgment: this script was not testing the players’ combat ability.
Those who tried to fight head-on would naturally not have a good outcome.
Good, many doubts were resolved.
But the problem now was, what should he do?
Looking down, Xiao Hong was still trying to recall more information, constantly rubbing her hair with both hands.
What to do?
Gao Yi raised his wrist and looked at the main quest.
【I: Survive twelve hours in “Huirong” Supermarket (Countdown 6:09:05)】
Six hours left.
By now, Gao Yi had essentially grasped the operating mode of this script.
Although he hadn’t fully understood everything, the minefield was already confirmed.
He just needed to wait on a safe hillside for the rescue plane to arrive.
But if he were to restart studying the script and try to conquer it, that would undoubtedly be dancing on a minefield.
Dangerous, and not necessarily rewarding.
From a purely self-interested and rational perspective, Gao Yi knew that he should remain completely still and wait for time to pass.
As for Xiao Hong in front of him, just lie to her, tell her to wait a bit, and deal with it later, wouldn’t that be fine?
Anyway, once the time was up, he would get the 【Return Ticket】, and everything would be over.
And Xiao Hong? She wouldn’t die; she would enter the next cycle.
Perhaps a stronger player would come in later and rescue her, which would be even more secure.
Gao Yi was a reporter; lying was practically a professional skill.
His own life and safety were most important, weren’t they?
The fan above the lounge was tangled in wires, turning with difficulty and making an annoying “sizzling” sound.
Pacing a few steps with slight annoyance, Gao Yi slowly walked to the dressing table in the lounge.
Through the mirror, he looked at himself again.
Why are you so flustered? What do you truly want to do in your heart?
Gao Yi, of course, knew what the impulse in his heart was.
He was not a very “self-interested” person.
To expose dark reports that could be published, he could give up profits and bylines.
For a friend’s verbal promise and plea, he could become a guarantor.
For the future and prospects of others, he was even willing to be a “bad guy.”
Everyone would say Gao Yi was a good person.
But in this world, good people get guns pointed at them.
Over the years, “being a good person” had only brought Gao Yi insult, ridicule, and debt.
At some point, his reflection in the mirror opened its mouth menacingly, its mocking tone piercing into Gao Yi’s mind:
“You’re such an idiot; how many times have I told you that next time you must consider yourself first, that you definitely won’t fall for it again, and now you want to play the saint again?”
Rubbing his eyes, the mirror surface returned to calm.
Is this the script’s influence? It seems to manifest on a mental level.
To be honest, Gao Yi had always known that “good deeds are rewarded” was just a self-comforting joke.
But at the very least, people who do good deeds shouldn’t be punished for it.
“That…”
Xiao Hong’s words pulled Gao Yi back from his struggle; she looked up, seemingly finally recalling something:
“I remembered something else; this set of clothes on me isn’t mine either; it just appeared on me out of nowhere, and it seems to have changed…”
Upon hearing this, Gao Yi felt a lightning bolt named “inspiration” flash across the calm ocean of his mind.
In that instant, all scattered clues converged.
No longer dwelling on the so-called “good person or not,” he darted two steps to a tilted storage cabinet, yanked one open, and rummaged through it.
“So that’s it, so that’s it!”
“Did I, did I… say something wrong?”
Xiao Hong seemed startled; in her reddened eyes, her slightly contracted pupils were raised to their highest, cautiously looking up at Gao Yi, who was examining something.
“Nothing, I just figured it out.”
Gao Yi put the item in his pants pocket and shook his head.
There was no need to dwell on what was right or wrong.
He was who he was; all his actions in this life were never about “being a good person,” but simply because he genuinely wanted to do those things.
Gao Yi was willing to help as a guarantor, to give up fame and fortune to pursue the truth, not because he was so “righteous.”
He simply genuinely wanted to trust his friends, hoped the reports would be published, and believed it was the right thing to do.
That was enough.
And now, he was going to do what he wanted to do.
Gripping the inflatable hammer in his hand, Gao Yi took a deep breath, turned, and looked at Xiao Hong, who was still somewhat confused and trembling.
His tone once again became calm, once again composed, once again… like himself:
“Come on, let’s go smash this damn world.”
........................................
