This ti, before the chair finally collapsed, Si’anke managed to jump onto the table in ti.
Despite the lack of evidence,
he always felt that if he stood by the side of the table for too long, it might also topple over...
So after jumping onto the table, he didn’t linger and went straight to the very center.
Looking at the three bowls of soup lined up beside him, Si’anke finally showed a look of hesitation.
"...Honestly, I don’t want to choose any of them,"
Si’anke muttered.
But not choosing was not an option. The arrangent of the room obviously ant for him to pick a bowl of soup and drink it without saying anything.
For now, he could only trust the hints from the comnts...
"...The smallest bowl, huh, I got it."
Si’anke gritted his teeth, picked up the bowl full of at soup, and downed it in one go.
The next mont, a prompt appeared before his eyes:
[You have drained the at soup: You have drained the at soup. Whose at is it?]
Unexpectedly, the at soup actually tasted quite good.
And it was neither hot nor cold, just the right temperature.
"—Even though it’s been out for so long, the temperature is just right?"
Si’anke was very surprised.
He tentatively touched the temperature of the other two bowls—the big bowl was still steaming with hot bone soup, while the middle bowl was completely cold.
In that case, even without the hints from the comnts,
Si’anke’s final choice would definitely be this bowl of at soup.
Unless "drinking more than one bowl of soup" itself is a death flag.
"...So what should I do now?"
Si’anke sat obediently on the table after finishing the at soup and waited for quite a while.
But he never saw the next event being triggered.
"—Go back the way you ca, dear."
"—I think you might be going to heaven again..."
"—Don’t wait anymore, sitting on the table like a dish. Wait any longer, and you’ll be the next bowl of soup."
"—Little bear: I reckon since there’s a bowl of soup missing, why not make it you!"
"You guys are waiting in vain!"
Looking at the cheerful laughter in the comnts, Si’anke sneered: "I won’t fail twice in the sa pit!"
He glanced at the highest chair with the narrowest seat.
If its lifespan was determined by how long it was used... it would break in one or two seconds at most.
—Or rather, it was about waiting for it to break!
Jumping from the low big chair to the middle-sized one would cause him to be flung off. Jumping down from a high place was almost certainly fatal.
And if he landed directly on the first chair... Si’anke was also worried that he, a Geralt-sized contestant who could die from a two-ter fall, would just close his eyes and perish.
Without another word, Si’anke jumped onto the highest chair.
Almost imdiately, the small chair beneath him started to collapse.
But Si’anke did not jump right away.
It was only when the chair had fallen almost level with the middle chair that he suddenly leaped. He landed very steadily on the second chair and then hopped down without any pause, landing on the biggest and lowest chair.
Then he landed smoothly on the ground.
"—Damn, 666666!"
"—How did you do that.jpg"
"—This move, this one’s called the little hop without hitting your head technique."
If Si’anke followed his normal streaming style, he would have taken a breath of relief at this point and imdiately started boasting to mask his fear.
But instead, he just looked a bit odd as he touched his calf.
...Oddly enough, it might be just an illusion.
He felt his body had beco much stronger.
Although he boasted that "A saint won’t fall to the sa move twice," according to Si’anke’s own estimation, this sequence of actions had at most a 60-70% chance of success. He was even prepared to get stuck here two or three tis or even three or four tis before successfully passing.
Without a doubt, it was a challenging point.
Yet when Si’anke made the first leap, he suddenly felt his movents incredibly smooth, precise, and stable.
Much more perfect than his extradinsional body in his nightmares. Like a machine, strong and powerful muscles and flesh, yet able to control at will.
If one were to make a comparison... it would be like being able to stop precisely and stably on the last step before sprinting off a cliff, without any error.
—It was precisely this level, like a dancer’s precision.
Only then did Si’anke notice that a door leading further in had opened.
"Was there a door here before?"
He cautiously asked the chat for advice.
Although the temporary buff after drinking the at soup filled Si’anke with inexplicable confidence,
just to be on the safe side, it was still best to be as timid as possible when heading to uncharted territories.
—After all, there’s no ti limit on this dungeon, right?
Soon, Si’anke got the feedback he wanted from the chat.
"It was there before, but the lighting here was dimr before, so maybe you didn’t see it at first..."
Four-Darkness muttered to himself.
He walked slowly toward that room, and then he pushed open the door.
Inside was an enormous space like a warehouse, with three beds laid out.
The smallest looked no different from a normal person’s bed, but the middle one was like a giant’s sleeping place. That pillow was so high, it could surely break one’s neck... and the biggest bed appeared more like a mountain.
"...I’m supposed to sleep in the smallest bed, right?"
Four-Darkness walked over and lifted the blanket.
Just as he was about to lant the fact that he was "actually sleeping in a nightmare,"
he found that inside the blanket,
there was sothing!
A tattered teddy bear with its limbs torn off and stomach hollowed out was crouching under the blanket, looking at Four-Darkness with a pair of glinting, ghostly green pupils.
It might have been an illusion.
But Four-Darkness always felt,
that those seed to be human eyes...
As Four-Darkness locked eyes with the teddy bear,
the teddy bear suddenly spoke:
"I want to tell you a secret... I will tell you a secret!"
It was a shrill, piercing voice.
Like a seven or eight-year-old girl’s scream at the top of her lungs.
But it was also the first voice Four-Darkness had heard besides that of Egg-Faced Gentleman:
"—Give your na, and I’ll tell you a secret!"
...Na?
Four-Darkness paused for a mont.
It definitely wasn’t "Four-Darkness." It couldn’t possibly be "Lin Er’er" either.
"—It’s ’Jobe’."
A reliable barrage imdiately prompted.
This was the na he had heard from the ssenger when he first t him.
"Jobe!"
So Four-Darkness imdiately responded, "My na is Jobe."
"Alright then, Uncle Jobe."
The crisp, girlish voice ca from the ragged teddy bear: "I’m going to tell you a secret..."
"This is just a dream, a very bad, very bad dream. It will be okay as soon as you wake up from it."
...I obviously know it’s a dream!
Four-Darkness complained inwardly.
No...wait a minute?
Sothing suddenly ca to him.
"So, how do I wake up from this dream?"
He asked humbly.
But the teddy bear only let out a sinister laugh.
"Give another na,"
it said after a long ti.
"Give the na of a dead person.
"The na of a spectator, or a wrongdoer, or perhaps the belated ssenger’s na—"
Without a doubt,
Four-Darkness couldn’t answer this question.
Because he had never bothered to ask the ssenger what his na was... always killing him on sight.
"—I’m f*cking stuck again!"
He cried out in despair.
Who knew that this level actually required the ssenger’s na?
But just then, Four-Darkness saw a barrage:
"—My silly little brother, the ssenger’s na is ’Glover’!"
"Glover!"
And so Four-Darkness yelled without hesitation.
Hearing this na, the teddy bear chuckled hehe and kept laughing, the sound extrely crisp and clear.
"If you give another na now. The na of a victim, I will tell you the secret of how you can be saved."
After a while, the little bear made a perplexed and adorable sound: "No?
"—Then you can wake up now."
The next mont, Four-Darkness suddenly awoke with a start.
He sat up abruptly from the ground—only to find a buzzing mill in front of him.
At this mont, the mill’s door was wide open.
And it was empty inside.
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