Thank you @Renea for the Kofi. (1/2)
Yuying University
Chapter 491: Familiar face
Wen Jianyan knelt on one knee, his chest pressed against it as he gasped for breath.
His vision blackened intermittently, as if his consciousness was being stripped from his body. Everything around him seemed distant and unreal.
The mark on his chest burned scorchingly hot, as if it would burn through his flesh and skin, melt his bones, and carve itself into his soul.
After an unknown amount of time, the sudden and terrifying side effect gradually subsided.
Wen Jianyan felt the darkness before his eyes slowly dissipate, and his breathing seemed to become smoother.
He blinked slowly. A drop of sweat rolled down his eyelashes and fell to the ground with a soft “pat,” creating a small, dark circular mark.
Wen Jianyan’s mood was heavy.
The aftereffects of the badge had flared up a few times before, but never as severely as this time.
It seemed this would be very difficult to hide from the others any longer.
He stood up shakily, preparing to explain his earlier loss of composure to his teammates. However, the moment he looked up, Wen Jianyan froze.
The sun was bright overhead, but it brought no warmth to his body.
The surrounding crowd was still bustling.
However, his teammates, who had been with him just a moment ago, had vanished without a trace. The space around him was empty, without a single soul in sight.
“…”
Wen Jianyan stood in place. A cold wind blew, causing his clothes, which hadn’t fully dried, to cling to his body, making him shiver involuntarily.
What was going on?
Where was everyone else?
Just as Wen Jianyan stood there, at a loss, a somewhat familiar figure suddenly entered his peripheral vision.
Wen Jianyan paused and subconsciously turned to look.
He saw a pale-faced female student staggering closer, her figure and posture exceptionally familiar.
Even though he had already guessed, the moment he saw her face clearly, Wen Jianyan’s breath caught slightly.
He was all too familiar with that face.
Ever since entering this instance, he had seen this face repeatedly in the film appreciation class—innocent, lovely, yet the only face in the entire film that was never replaced by a dead streamer.
It was Chu Chu’s face.
No, or perhaps, it was Wang Ni?
Just as she was about to reach the cafeteria entrance, Wang Ni looked up, her gaze somewhat dazed as it swept lightly past Wen Jianyan.
The moment her eyes fell on him, Wen Jianyan jolted. He tensed his body and instinctively wanted to retreat.
But, to his surprise, her gaze merely skimmed over him before quickly retracting.
Wen Jianyan blinked, seeming to understand something.
That’s right.
They were currently in a “memory”.
This meant that even though Wen Jianyan had been left behind, it didn’t change his status as an “observer”.
This brought Wen Jianyan a small sense of relief.
For him, this was a good thing; at least he wouldn’t have to waste more energy concocting lies.
Wang Ni was still walking slowly forward. Wen Jianyan gave her a deep look and entered the cafeteria first.
Although he didn’t know why he wasn’t teleported out with the others, being left behind was exactly what he wanted—he was truly curious about what had happened here.
When the illusion in the cafeteria kitchen had ended previously, Wen Jianyan had found himself in the cafeteria, but that scene was too short. It ended before he could figure anything out.
However, thanks to that memory, he knew almost immediately where he needed to go next to get more information.
Wen Jianyan expertly found his way to the back of the kitchen.
He carefully pushed open the heavy iron door with his shoulder and looked into the back kitchen, past the billowing white steam.
In front of a gurgling, boiling pot, a figure stood with its back to him, perfectly still.
It was Wang Ni.
No, or rather, it was Chu Chu—Wang Ni’s mirror image.
The surrounding chefs bustled about, as if they didn’t see her at all, moving around her.
The figure slowly reached out and touched a knife on the cutting board.
Wen Jianyan’s heart leaped into his throat.
He had a rough idea of what was about to happen.
The blade approached the back of the neck, slowly moving from side to side, rubbing, cutting open the skin, severing the windpipe, and then bit by bit prying at the bone, until finally only a small bit of skin on the throat remained connected.
Blood splattered everywhere, but the others around paid it no mind, as if such an abnormal scene didn’t exist.
“…”
Wen Jianyan’s face turned a little pale.
Based on the gruesome scene he had witnessed in the illusion before, he had already guessed he would see this, but witnessing it with his own eyes still made him feel a physiological revulsion.
Finally, the blade cut through the last small piece of skin.
The next second, with a “gurgle”, the head fell into the boiling cauldron.
Wen Jianyan suppressed his nausea, slowly relaxed his strength, and let the heavy back door swing shut.
He now had a good idea where the eyeball in Wang Ni’s bowl had come from.
But the question was… why?
Why would the mirror image cut its own neck?
This seemed a little different from the rules he had understood before. After all, although the mirror image’s head had fallen, Wang Ni hadn’t died with it.
This was somewhat strange.
Wen Jianyan returned from his deep thoughts and looked not far away.
The dispirited Wang Ni was already approaching the service window.
A blood-drenched ladle swung up and down behind the window, serving her a bowl of murky soup.
Wen Jianyan had already seen what happened next.
Wang Ni listlessly shoveled food into her mouth, her chopsticks stirring the soup, and finally—
They pierced into a soft eyeball.
The soft, juicy, fluid-filled tissue was punctured with a squelch, then lifted from the soup by the chopsticks, its dilated black pupil staring intently at the girl before it.
After a brief moment of shock, a piercing scream erupted from Wang Ni’s throat. She dropped her chopsticks, the table and chair all fell over, and she kicked her legs, scrambling backward.
All of this was exactly the same as what Wen Jianyan had seen in the illusion before, almost like replaying the exact same film.
However…
Unlike the last time, this “movie” was no longer just about the protagonist; all the blank spaces had been filled in.
And because of this, Wen Jianyan discovered an anomaly.
He had thought that Wang Ni’s hysteria and panic attack would have startled the other students in the cafeteria. They would most likely stop talking, look toward the source of the sound, and whisper in confusion.
Wen Jianyan looked up, his gaze falling on the crowd nearby.
The crowd was bustling, with no abnormalities.
“…”
A vague guess began to form in Wen Jianyan’s mind.
On the ground, Wang Ni stopped screaming.
She fumbled to pick up her schoolbag, turned around, and stumbled out of the cafeteria.
But this time, the scene did not end.
This “memory” was still playing.
So, without a second thought, Wen Jianyan gave chase.
Wang Ni sprinted ahead. Perhaps fear had given her strength; she ran as fast as a whirlwind. Even at full speed, Wen Jianyan could only barely keep from losing her.
But for some unknown reason, her steps became heavier and heavier, as if she were being dragged down by some invisible weight.
She tripped and fell to the ground.
Wen Jianyan finally caught up to her.
He bent over, panting heavily, his vision turning black.
She could really run; he had almost run his life out.
After a long while, Wen Jianyan finally recovered a bit. He straightened up, panting, and looked in Wang Ni’s direction.
The moment he saw her, he couldn’t help but be slightly taken aback.
Something… seemed off?
Wen Jianyan’s gaze moved down to the young woman’s abdomen.
Her once slender waist now had a roundness that didn’t match his memory. Her abdomen protruded slightly, exuding a strange aura that was out of place with her surroundings.
Was Wang Ni’s belly this big before?
No.
The moment the question arose, Wen Jianyan immediately denied it.
Under his watch, her belly seemed to be growing at a speed visible to the naked eye, swelling, and stretching her originally well-fitting clothes taut, making a piercing sound of tearing fabric.
Wang Ni’s face was deathly pale and ugly, her eyes filled with extreme terror.
She trembled as she reached out to the passersby, as if asking for help, but the surrounding students ignored her—they walked past her without a glance, as if they didn’t see the pitiful person lying at their feet.
Even knowing this was just an unalterable memory, Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but take a step forward.
But the moment he took that step, a scene from his memory suddenly flashed in his mind.
Wen Jianyan stood frozen in place.
He remembered…
A similar scene he had witnessed when he and Orange Candy went to the cafeteria to complete their film appreciation assignment.
The low dining table was a mess, covered in black, foul-smelling sewage, on which lay a disemboweled human corpse.
Although they had only worked together for a few hours, Wen Jianyan still remembered her name was Jiang Yu.
And in front of the table sat a short figure.
A girl.
She had her head down, her hair covering her face, rocking back and forth, chewing on the corpse in front of her with “crunching” sounds, as if devouring a delicious feast.
Under the table, Wen Jianyan saw her highly swollen abdomen.
Just like now.
“Ahhh—”
A shrill scream pulled Wen Jianyan back from his memories to reality.
He shuddered and subconsciously looked toward the source of the sound.
Wang Ni lay on the ground, her belly swollen as high as he remembered, its unnatural height having already burst her clothes. Through the torn gaps, the purplish-blue skin of her belly was visible.
The human skin had been stretched to its limit, taking on a terrifyingly transparent quality, as if it would burst with the slightest poke.
Staring at this abnormal scene, Wen Jianyan felt his scalp tingle, and sweat beaded on his palms.
Something seemed to be moving under the skin of her belly.
“Rip—”
A bloody gash split open on her belly.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!”
The scream became even more shrill and terrified, like sharp nails scratching fiercely at his eardrums, like an awl piercing his mind.
Following the split gash, Wen Jianyan saw several bloody fingers. The fingers wriggled out from under the belly, slowly grabbed the two sides of the wound, and then pulled forcefully outwards.
The screaming stopped.
Wen Jianyan’s ears were ringing. He felt the surroundings become extremely quiet, so quiet he could only hear his own rapid and chaotic breathing.
A very familiar smell wafted through the air.
Sweet and bloody.
He forced himself to move his gaze and looked at Wang Ni’s body.
Or rather…
The humanoid object that was once called “Wang Ni.”
The once full and healthy body of the young woman had shriveled up—just like every other killed club member and student council member in this instance.
A living person had become a flat, human-skin bag.
A figure slowly crawled out from the gash on the stomach of this human-skin bag, then, somewhat clumsily, stood up bit by bit.
Her face was still stained with blood, but in the sunlight, her features were still clearly visible and very familiar.
So familiar that Wen Jianyan felt he could picture it with his eyes closed.
It was Wang Ni’s face.
As if a switch had been flipped, the surrounding students finally seemed to see her.
They walked over and asked with concern:
“Classmate, what’s wrong with you?”
As if not seeing the residual dark red blood on the ground and the shriveled human-skin bag, they asked with concern about “Wang Ni’s” condition.
“Classmate, are you okay? Do you need to go to the infirmary?”
“Wang Ni” stood in place, her eyes rolling.
Suddenly, she raised a smile, a smile almost identical to the real Wang Ni’s, and said in a very normal, almost flawless tone:
“No, it’s not necessary.”
“Wang Ni” raised her hand, wiped the remaining blood from her face, and smiled shyly, “Thank you, classmate.”
Outside the cafeteria.
Hugo and the other members of the team stood outside the invisible wall, waiting quietly.
Time passed, second by second. Yun Bilan was getting impatient.
She turned to Hugo and asked, “How much longer until the invisible wall disappears?”
Hugo glanced at the time: “One minute.”
When they discovered that Wen Jianyan had not left the invisible wall with them, they had immediately sent him a message, but it was like a stone sinking into the sea, with no reply.
However, Hugo said that the invisible wall wouldn’t last long, especially the one by the cafeteria, which would probably disappear in about twenty minutes, so they decided to wait.
Perhaps it was psychological, but the last minute was exceptionally agonizing.
They repeatedly checked the time. Finally, the second hand ticked its way to the top—
The twenty-minute limit was up.
Su Cheng tentatively took a step forward and raised his hand—
His fingers didn’t touch the invisible wall from memory but passed straight through.
He breathed a sigh of relief: “The invisible wall is gone.”
Students bustled around them. The group stood in place, craning their necks to look around, but they did not see that familiar figure leaving the cafeteria.
“…”
They exchanged glances, a bad feeling rising in their hearts.
“I’ll go take a look inside,” Su Cheng said.
Yun Bilan: “I’ll go too.”
Hugo nodded. He pulled out a pack of dry cigarettes from somewhere, took one, and held it between his lips:
“Let’s go.”
The group entered the cafeteria and split up to search and observe.
Ten minutes later, they met at the cafeteria entrance, having found nothing.
“Didn’t find him?” Wei Cheng asked.
The others shook their heads.
Their expressions were all grim.
Hugo looked at Su Cheng: “Did he reply to your message?”
Su Cheng took out his phone and glanced at it, his expression dejected: “Not yet.”
Hugo nodded: “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Tian Ye, who was standing to the side, was stunned for a second, then chased after him, “Wait, but we haven’t found him yet—”
“We won’t find him.”
Hugo glanced at him and said.
“Just like how I couldn’t contact you guys before, he’s probably in the same situation now.”
Hearing Hugo’s conclusion, everyone’s heart sank.
In fact, when they realized Wen Jianyan had disappeared, they had already guessed this might be the result, they just hadn’t wanted to believe it.
Hugo looked away and continued walking out: “Let’s not waste time.”
“We still have the library to go to.”
On the other side.
Wen Jianyan followed “Wang Ni” from a distance, his brow tightly furrowed, his mind in turmoil.
On the bright side, after what had just happened, he had more or less figured out the answers to many of the puzzles.
For example…
Why it was Richard who burned down the gymnasium in the end, even though Wang Ni had found the key to solving the puzzle.
Because before that, Wang Ni had already died.
And why the mirror image had to “commit suicide” in the kitchen, allowing itself to be eaten by Wang Ni.
Judging from the reaction of the chefs in the cafeteria earlier, the mirror image’s invasion of reality was actually incomplete. It could probably only be seen by Wang Ni herself—and at most, Richard.
Through this ritual, Wang Ni herself gradually became invisible to the people around her, and the mirror image burst out of her stomach, completely replacing the real Wang Ni, thus completing its invasion of the real world.
In a way, this was another piece of good news.
The complexity of the “mirror image’s” invasion was much higher than Wen Jianyan had previously understood.
This meant that Orange Candy was definitely not dead.
Although Wen Jianyan had already thought that the reason Orange Candy hadn’t used her talent was that she hadn’t been pushed to her limit yet.
Therefore, he had deduced that Orange Candy’s life was probably not in immediate danger.
But it was only now that Wen Jianyan finally had concrete evidence that Orange Candy was still alive.
This was truly a relief.
However…
There was also bad news.
Wen Jianyan lowered his head, took out his phone from his pocket, and skillfully unlocked the screen.
Since being separated from his teammates, the others had completely vanished, not replying to a single message—but based on Wen Jianyan’s grasp of their current situation, it was unlikely they would have immediately fallen into danger after separating from him. Such a disappearance made no sense.
Wen Jianyan sighed deeply and put his phone back in his pocket.
He didn’t think it was his teammates who had a problem; on the contrary, the problem was likely with him.
At least from the known information, he was the one who had been forcibly separated from everyone else.
But Wen Jianyan didn’t know how to solve this situation.
He didn’t even know how he had entered the invisible wall, so naturally, he had no idea how to get out.
Wen Jianyan looked up, his gaze falling on “Wang Ni” not far away, his eyes flickering slightly.
In any case, all he could do now was follow this “mirror image” and see where it was going.
Wen Jianyan followed “Wang Ni” through the campus.
It twisted and turned, then suddenly stopped.
“…”
Wen Jianyan looked up.
Before him was a familiar three-story low building.
The Administration Building.
“Buzz buzz,” “buzz buzz.”
The sound of a phone vibrating rang out.
Wen Jianyan was startled; he thought it was his, but after fumbling in his pocket, he realized the sound was coming from “Wang Ni’s” backpack.
However, “Wang Ni” seemed not to hear it. It didn’t stop, but walked straight into the administration building.
The vibration stopped.
Wen Jianyan’s heart suddenly started pounding.
He quickened his pace and followed.
“Wang Ni” moved through the academic building as if it were an empty space, seeming very familiar with the place, and went directly to the third floor of the administration building.
On the third floor, two opposing doors were tightly closed.
One was the Vice Principal’s Office, and opposite it was the Principal’s Office, which had not yet been hidden.
Wang Ni placed her hand on the door of the principal’s office.
The next second, with a “creak,” the door to the principal’s office was pushed open.
It walked in.
Wen Jianyan’s heart beat faster. His palms were sweaty, and his heart pounded like a drum, as if it would burst from his chest.
His subconscious told him that something crucial was about to happen.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, then stepped forward, cautiously peering into the room.
The principal’s door was not fully closed.
Through a narrow crack, Wen Jianyan saw “Wang Ni” walk straight ahead and stop in front of the desk.
However, due to the angle, he couldn’t see what was behind “Wang Ni.”
Wen Jianyan exhaled and took another step forward.
Turning sideways, he carefully pushed the half-open door with his fingertips, allowing it to slide further inward.
Over “Wang Ni’s” shoulder, Wen Jianyan’s gaze extended into the distance—
“…!”
Wen Jianyan’s breath hitched involuntarily.
Different from what he had imagined, behind the office desk stood a “person.”
Rather than a person, it was… a shadow.
A completely black shadow.
From its body to its face, everything was covered in messy black lines, like a large, dirty stain smeared onto a seemingly normal background, making one’s back crawl.
Wen Jianyan’s pupils contracted, his breathing slightly quickening.
So, who was that shadow?
Was it the mysterious character in this instance who had never appeared? The principal, “Zhang Yunsheng”?
If it really was him, why did he look like this?
Wen Jianyan subconsciously took a step forward, but just as he did, the “shadow’s” face seemed to move slightly.
In an instant, Wen Jianyan felt a terrifying chill shoot up his spine.
Although that face was covered in black lines, for some reason, he just knew that the other party was “looking.”
Piercing through the barrier called “memory,” looking straight over here.
…Looking at him.
