[Falling into a nightmare, replica being generated...]
[Detected special properties of the current replica: Web, Phantom Dream]
[Dying in this replica does not force ejection from the replica]
[This replica will not distort]
[Different changes occur when different people enter this replica]
[Different changes occur each ti you enter this replica]
[Replica difficulty: Twisted, with a maximum of thirty-three entries]
[Current purification rate: 0/1]
[This replica has 12 archive points, and the erosion rate increases by 1% with each death]
[This replica does not provide a storyline introduction, but there is a decryption reward]
[Replica clearance rewards: Any profession below the Gold rank rises 3-5 levels; any profession above the Gold rank rises 1-3 levels]
[Replica decryption rewards: Elents (Vengeance) or Elents (Poison) or Elents (Strictness) awakening depth increases by 10%]
[Replica loading complete]
As Annan slowly opened his eyes, what appeared before him were trees twisted and malford like monsters. Their leafless trunks were covered in dark green moss, the air thick with the damp sll of spores.
Annan had so concerns that Jiu’er might do sothing to his body—considering that it was "Giralda" and not "Annan" sleeping outside, there probably wouldn’t be any problems.
I, as a handso and adorable boy, should also protect myself when I’m out and about.
"But so things, you really have to enter a replica yourself to see."
Annan squinted slightly.
The privileges of the players were different from Annan’s.
Otherwise, they should have noticed the anomaly right from the replica’s introduction.
Not to ntion anything else.
—Why does this replica have a maximum purification rate of only [1]?
This ans that as soon as any person clears this replica, it would be imdiately purified.
And as far as Annan knew... only the specialized nightmare abilities of Priests could pry into the experiences of others within nightmares.
It was the ritual used by Priest Louis when Annan had not yet set foot on the Transcendent path—if the full ritual was prepared completely, it was possible to observe from the outside the process of clearing the nightmare, or to command the ones tackling the nightmare, or even forcibly interrupt the nightmare to rescue people from within to avoid high erosion rates.
Annan certainly knew this Divine Art.
But for him, it didn’t hold much use... Since the players could achieve the sa effect directly through forums.
They could observe (aning live streams), they could command (aning comnts), and they didn’t need to interrupt the nightmares because Annan could directly clear the erosion rate. Moreover, Annan had the authority to kick players offline—
In this respect, the players were like Annan’s own Priests...
To ordinary people, especially the Underground City without Priests, a replica "that can be cleared only once" almost certainly couldn’t be decrypted.
The ans to probe a replica’s durability were also Divine Arts.
"Does that an the Sporogenesis Mill is... a man-made nightmare?"
Annan murmured softly, squinting slightly.
—Perhaps this is the full implication of the [Web] characteristic.
Trapped in a nightmare unable to break free, one would repeatedly die in the nightmare until their life was drained; but once you break free, it gets shattered as if it were a light, delicate web, leaving behind no trace.
I didn’t expect that I’d touch upon its secret without even starting the nightmare.
In that case, this nightmare can only be deciphered using decryption thods...
"I hope to solve it in one go."
The mont Annan moved, a young girl’s tender whisper reached his ears:
"—Observers and wrongdoers are no different; both should be despised."
"I’m not the sa as them."
Looking at the side mission [Enter the Sporogenesis Mill] erging before him, Annan replied calmly, "I won’t just stand by and watch."
Although he knew that no one would hear the words he’d just spoken.
But this sentence was not an exchange between the living and the living.
It was a prayer from the living to the dead.
He didn’t hesitate, turning and walking away.
— The child had guessed at least one thing correctly.
The secret of the Sporogenesis Mill must lie with "the ssenger". Understanding how to use this contrarian thinking was already holding the key to victory.
It’s just a pity... Four Dark Locks is sharp enough, yet not wise enough.
Four Dark Locks could sense there was a problem here but couldn’t pinpoint where exactly. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be an impasse here—he would have found the problem by now.
Because the real answer had been in front of him all along.
"...Heh...ha...ha..."
Heavy breathing and the squelching sounds of boots stepping into moist soil reached Annan’s ear.
Annan knew that according to the previous strategy, the ssenger would definitely fall outside of his field of vision. Then the ssenger would reach out, asking the player to pull him up.
Four Dark Locks subconsciously thought that the ssenger had to be killed. So he didn’t prevent the fall... Or rather, he hadn’t considered that the ssenger’s fall could be prevented.
"— Glover."
Annan suddenly spoke out, calling the ssenger’s na before he even saw him.
At the mont his voice sounded, the steps of the ssenger ca to an almost imdiate halt.
"... Who is it?"
The ssenger Glover asked tentatively.
"It’s , Jobe."
Annan calmly replied with a second na.
All of these were nas that "Little Bear" had inquired about... If everything went as expected, these nas could surely be acquired from sowhere and could be used sowhere.
— Like now.
Only after hearing the na "Jobe" and recognizing that it was his voice did the ssenger Glover finally relax.
He breathed heavily, slowly approaching.
The man who walked from the shadows into the light was wearing a tattered leather armor, with slightly graying temples on his dark skin.
His skin was as dark as marble, his figure lean and sowhat aged. His pupils burned with a pale gray light.
But as he approached Annan, even before he could speak to Annan,
The expression on the ssenger’s face suddenly froze.
For when he stepped out of the darkness into the light, and caught sight of "Jobe."
"Jobe" was holding a flintlock pistol in his right hand, loosely aiming at his head.
"Stop. Don’t move, Glover."
Annan said slowly, "I’d really prefer you not to move... my friend."
"Jobe’s" voice was hoarse and rough, not at all pleasant. He must be a man over fifty years old, appearing to be from the sa era as Glover, whose temples were slightly graying.
With a gun pointed at his face, Glover’s lips twitched, his expression swiftly cycling through confusion, astonishnt, and tension.
He quickly realized sothing.
"... I didn’t run away, Jobe!"
Mr. ssenger argued desperately, an anxious look appearing on his face.
But Annan just watched him with an impassive face, a vague smile hanging on his lips.
Soon, the ssenger’s expression began to settle into calmness.
"I’m curious, Jobe."
Mr. Glover frowned slightly, the fear on his face already dissipating: "How did you find out?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)