The man with the forgettable face was indeed Wei Mu.
Cheng Shi knew this couldn't be his true body—that was a puppet marionette. The flesh-and-blood form before him, impervious to pain, had to be one of his actual puppets.
'Where did he hide the real one?'
Cheng Shi instinctively scanned the surroundings. Wei Mu, anwhile, smiled and nodded to everyone, then swept his gaze around the cell. He pinched so soil from the ground and studied it briefly, then leaned out through the cliff opening for a look before declaring with total certainty:
"Red volcanic ash, a mountain prison, machine-spun coarse clothing, sacrificial garnts. If I'm not mistaken, we're sowhere near the Civilization Lonely Towers in the four-hundred sequence."
"To be more precise, given the severity of the punishnt inflicted on our bodies, we're likely in the early range—under four hundred twenty."
"The History School originally numbered the Civilization Lonely Towers of the Chaos Epoch to help pinpoint the location and historical context of trials as quickly as possible. It seems they succeeded—at least for players who enjoy studying Folly, it's extrely useful."
Wei Mu's presence was commanding. Though he knew full well that Cheng Shi was Yu Xi, he made no indication of it whatsoever, simply doing what he felt needed doing.
When he finished, he walked to the cliff's edge, turned to face the group, and gave a casual wave. Then, before everyone's astonished eyes, he fell straight backward.
He'd thrown himself off the cliff!
His only parting words: "I've found my answer."
Monts later, a thunderous crash echoed from the base of the cliff. The group flinched. The Prisoner, ignoring his injuries entirely, sprang to his feet with a carp-like flip, rushed to the opening, gripped the cliff face, and peered down.
While watching, he muttered:
"Co on, it's not that bad. Getting matched with
isn't exactly shaful. Why end it all?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
The shock of Wei Mu's suicide instantly curdled into sothing else entirely. The scene lapsed into silence.
But while the non-Silence followers fell silent, the actual Silence follower kept right on yapping.
The Prisoner turned around to face his remaining cellmates, stepped aside, pointed at the opening, and offered:
"If any of you feel too embarrassed to stay, you're welco to jump too. Don't worry about my feelings. Really, I can take it."
"..."
"..."
"..."
'I don't know about your resilience, but I could definitely offer a review of your shalessness.'
Cheng Shi had lost the will to speak. He rolled his eyes at The Prisoner while keeping all his attention fixed on Mo Shu.
This Scavenger had too many overlapping identities stacked on him: the twisted pastry chef, the delivery boy for Deceit's items, the life-or-death rival who'd barely fallen short, the lackey of the Oblivion camp...
Cheng Shi had to stay wary of whatever tricks the man might pull with that luggage case. He was also wondering—now that even Mo Shu's power of mory had vanished, would that old "trick" for testing whether soone carried Oblivion's will still work?
While he was pondering this, Mo Shu opened his suitcase with a stony face and cramd all six cakes inside into his own mouth.
With each swallow, the wounds on his body healed a little more. By the ti the last one was gone, he was fully recovered.
Seeing this, Cheng Shi was confused.
'What's the aning of this?'
'No more testing other people for Oblivion's will?'
'But as the cakes get annihilated, your body recovers—isn't that the opposite of Oblivion's will?'
'What, did you also figure out that "the pinnacle of devotion is blasphemy"?'
Mo Shu glanced up at Cheng Shi. As if reading his confusion, he snorted coldly:
"This isn't recovery—it's the oblivion of self-inflicted pain."
"Fate Weaver, you've clearly strayed from my master's will."
"?"
Hearing that, Cheng Shi gave a dry chuckle.
'Sorry, but I was probably never anywhere near Oblivion's will. It's your Benefactor who keeps shalessly trying to sidle up to .'
'And if eating a few mutton-fat cakes counts as "drawing close to Him"...'
'I can throw them back up and return them.'
Of course, trading barbs before understanding the situation would only create headaches. Seeing that Mo Shu wasn't about to attack imdiately, Cheng Shi held his ground and continued observing the relationship between the Scavenger and the unknown woman.
They clearly knew each other.
Because right after Mo Shu devoured his first suitcase of cakes, he produced a second one—and this new case appeared to be prepared for the female player.
"..."
'Dude, are you running a wholesale bakery?'
Mo Shu was being cautious as well. He pulled the female teammate close and fed her the cakes, oblivioning the pain from her wounds. But he'd barely fed her two before he reached for another and found the case empty!
His brow sank, his gaze sharpened, and he whipped around—only to find The Prisoner had sohow materialized right behind him, mouth packed to bursting with cake, chewing furiously while gesturing with both hands:
"Deesh ahr... wawwy gwood."
"..."
"..."
"..."
The scene turned excruciatingly awkward. Cheng Shi nearly failed to hold in his laughter.
He might be laughing, but that didn't an the aggrieved parties found it funny.
Mo Shu's expression turned arctic. Without a word, he drove a fist straight at The Prisoner's face. But The Prisoner didn't even dodge—he actually opened his mouth wider and leaned into it.
BOOM—
The fist connected dead-center with The Prisoner's mouth, sending him flying. The explosive force of Oblivion also annihilated every crumb of cake in his mouth.
The Prisoner tumbled across the ground, completely unhard, yet still looked pained as he lanted:
"What a waste! Such delicious cake, all gone."
"Comrade Scavenger, no more wasting food in the future! Choking
to death is one thing, but wasting food is a disgrace!"
"DIE!"
Mo Shu had reached his limit. Or rather, for a Scavenger, problems that could be solved with violence were best solved with violence. In an instant, the two warriors collided.
They were evenly matched, blow for blow. After a brief exchange, neither could gain the upper hand—but they'd nearly demolished the cliff-side cage in the process.
Seeing things going south, Cheng Shi frowned slightly. Spotting an opening, he slipped through the shattered bars and out of the cell.
He knew he'd co here with a mission and couldn't afford to get tangled up with these people for long.
The prone Ji Yue watched the two combatants with an eager look, as if she wanted to jump in, but after careful deliberation, she chose to follow Cheng Shi's lead—escaping through the broken bars and vanishing from sight.
Her injuries seed to have never affected her at all. In fact, "watered" by her own blood, this Purgatory Bishop moved with the agility of a warrior.
She left without hesitation, sparing no lingering glance for anyone present.
The Prisoner, for his part, showed zero reaction to her departure—he was too busy fending off Mo Shu's attacks with body and mouth alike.
"Comrade Scavenger, I think you're—"
"How are you even—"
"Hey, I'm trying to say—"
"You are so unreasonable... let
finish..."
"Wait!"
"Brilliant! Obliterating soone else's words—that's the very essence of Silence! Why not join us? Together with my brother-in-law, the three of us could... hm?"
"Why'd you stop obliterating?"
"Scavenger, you've strayed from my master's will this quickly?"
"..."
The boorang spun back with devastating precision, catching Mo Shu completely off guard.
He'd never imagined there would co a mont when he'd feel this conflicted. Obliterating The Prisoner would prove the point, but not obliterating him was just as problematic. He was stuck—trapped between two equally terrible options, left with nothing but revulsion.
'What rotten luck!'
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