Chapter 637: A Shocking Plan
Sure enough, just as Little Wen Jianyan predicted, the dormitory door was slammed open from the outside when dawn was just breaking.
“Next time this happens, I won’t let you off.”
“Get inside!”
Accompanied by a few cold warnings, there was a heavy thud—a child was rudely thrown in from outside the door.
Bang!
The door was closed again.
Outside, the Momma’s heavy footsteps gradually faded away.
The room was quiet for a while. A full ten seconds passed before the rustling sound of fabric was heard.
In the darkness, the small shadow slowly crawled up from the floor and limped back to his bed.
Shadows lurked in the room, and the sound of orphans’ rhythmic breathing while sleeping came from everywhere.
Morning.
At the dining table, the anchors whispered, discussing the unexpected situation last night in low voices.
“Why did the earthquake come early yesterday?”
“I don’t know, but our loop didn’t end… So will we enter the next loop at 5 PM today like before?”
“…”
Their discussion yielded no results.
After all, no one dared to ask the trio who actually knew something—they only dared to sneak glances at the three at the end of the table from time to time, quickly withdrawing their gaze before being noticed.
“Buzz buzz buzz, so noisy.”
Zhao Ran rested his chin on his hand, saying with annoyance.
“Ignore them,” Wei Cheng kept his head down, concentrating on dealing with the breakfast in front of him. “They just really want to know if we can break this cycle this time.”
“Don’t I want to know too?”
Zhao Ran looked down at the black bread on his plate, his expression twisting for a moment. “Seriously, eating this stuff is going to turn me into an antisocial element… When I get back to the Anchor Square, I’m definitely going to revenge-spend for at least half a month.”
Although the survival difficulty of this instance wasn’t high, the clear condition was disgusting.
Even though they only needed to complete the main mission [Survive for Seven Days] to leave, the instance reset every fifth day. Because of this, the main mission couldn’t be completed at all… Calculating fully, they had been trapped in this lousy place for nearly two months.
“Don’t worry, we’ve already seen the dawn,” Wei Cheng glanced at him soothingly. “Even if this loop doesn’t work, the next one or the one after that should be fine.”
Yesterday’s earthquake was a hint—they had found the direction, although exactly what to do was still vague.
Although there wasn’t much time left in this loop, for them…
“Right, Captain?”
Wei Cheng turned his head to look at Orange Candy.
In the seat next to him, Orange Candy lowered her head, scooping soup with a spoon stroke by stroke, staring absently at a dead fly bobbing up and down inside.
“Captain?” Wei Cheng raised his voice and called her again.
“Huh?” Orange Candy seemed to hear the other person’s voice only then. She raised her eyes with a lack of interest and gave a perfunctory “Oh,” saying, “That’s right.”
“Oh right, how are your live streams lately? Still disconnected?”
Zhao Ran seemed to think of something and jumped to another topic.
Wei Cheng lowered his head, opened the live stream interface to check, sighed, and said: “…Yeah.”
Starting from the eighth loop, their live streams began disconnecting—first, the number of online viewers dropped, then the connection became intermittent, and finally, their live stream screens went black. Where the bullet comments should have been, only a line of cold small text remained:
“System under maintenance, please wait patiently.”
However, since this instance restricted the use of points, allowing item purchases only at the end of each loop, the lack of viewer tips didn’t impact them too much—at least economically.
“…I have to say, although there are plenty of idiots and jerks in the bullet comments, I’m still not used to having no comments for so long,” Zhao Ran made a face. “It’s so quiet, it always gives me the illusion that I’ve been forgotten by this crappy live stream.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
Wei Cheng shook his head disapprovingly.
“Don’t forget that time flows differently here compared to outside—for us, it’s been a long time, but for anchors in other instances, the maintenance might have only lasted two or three days.”
“Sigh, I know, I know, just saying…”
Zhao Ran closed his eyes and forced himself to swallow the black bread.
Seeming to choke, his facial features shifted, his expression contorted. Wei Cheng had to thump his back hard twice before he finally caught his breath:
“Cough cough cough, thanks, Four-Eyes.”
Wei Cheng: “…”
Next time I should just let you choke to death.
During their conversation, Orange Candy remained absent-minded, maintaining an unsettling silence.
Wei Cheng couldn’t help glancing at her a few more times:
“Captain?”
“Did you find anything new when you went to see Pinocchio last night?” Thinking of something, he asked.
Orange Candy rested her chin on her hand, her tone lazy. “Nope.”
Really none.
After confirming Little Wen Jianyan’s life wasn’t in danger, she didn’t stay long before leaving the “dog cage.”
The child’s secretive question as she was about to leave flashed through her mind:
“Are you leaving? Won’t you stay a bit longer?”
“…Ah wait, Momma’s first round of patrol is about to start. You’d better leave quickly.”
Orange Candy propped up her head and asked somewhat depressingly:
“Say, can what we do here affect people in reality…”
Wei Cheng quickly realized what Orange Candy really wanted to ask.
He couldn’t help being stunned.
He had to say, this was the first time seeing the Captain care so much about an instance NPC… but as a teammate, he still had to cruelly speak the truth:
“Captain, this is just an instance. Although we haven’t figured out why he didn’t die during the instance formation process yet still left his image here, no matter what, what happened here happened a long time ago—Pinocchio himself is with Bai Xue, did you forget?”
“Of course I didn’t forget,” Orange Candy shook her head irritably. “What, can’t I occasionally say something stupid as your captain?”
Wei Cheng: “…No, I didn’t mean that.”
Having two kids to coax, he was truly physically and mentally exhausted.
After breakfast, it was time for the morning labor assignments.
“Cleaning the first floor: No. 198, No. 201, No. 319, No. 320, No. 321…”
198?
If she remembered correctly, this should be one of Little Wen Jianyan’s lackeys.
Orange Candy glanced thoughtfully at another long table—unfortunately, there were too many dirty children, making it hard to find a specific orphan.
She withdrew her gaze, stood up, and signaled Wei Cheng and Zhao Ran with her eyes.
Go.
The three stood up together and followed the crowd out of the hall.
The orphans gathered with heavy cleaning tools. Some carried iron buckets and rags, some held mops and brooms, and others held heavy basins filled with dirty clothes and sheets.
Just as Orange Candy and the others lowered their heads to wipe the floor, a quiet voice sounded from behind:
“Shh, it’s me. Don’t turn around.”
The voice was familiar; it was precisely No. 198.
“Wait ten minutes for the patrol gap. I’ll come call you, remember?”
Sure enough.
Orange Candy exchanged a look with her teammates:
“Mn.”
Sure enough, ten minutes later, the Momma’s heavy footsteps bypassed the corridor behind them and gradually disappeared into the distance. No. 198 appeared in front of them again, quietly waved to them. Immediately, the three put their cleaning tools in a hidden corner and followed quietly.
The orphan walking ahead stepped very lightly, as if he had memorized the map of the entire building, leading them skillfully through the shadows of the corridor.
He turned a corner ahead and stopped:
“Here it is.”
Orange Candy saw Little Wen Jianyan waiting there at a glance.
The bloodstains were gone from his clothes, clearly changed, making them appear even looser than before, revealing his protruding shoulder bones.
Momma didn’t hold back on the first slap; half his face was still swollen, the corner of his mouth torn. Several shocking purple bruises were visible on his exposed arms and calves, but even so, his gaze remained lively and vivid.
“Here, here!”
Seeing Orange Candy, he immediately raised his hand to greet her, but moving his arm seemed to pull at a sore spot, causing him to hiss and suck in a breath.
“See, I told you, nothing happened at all!”
Little Wen Jianyan said proudly.
“Momma was just suspicious. If she had any real evidence, it wouldn’t be the dog cage waiting for me.”
It might not work for others, but as extremely experienced and senior anchors, Orange Candy and Wei Cheng rarely left any real evidence when they acted, even if time was tight—only that one door that had to be opened.
Because of this, Momma’s outburst was mostly suspicion and doubt, not really certain if one of them carelessly forgot to close the door or if Wen Jianyan let someone into the second-floor room.
The child changed the subject:
“However, Momma is already suspicious, so for safety’s sake, it’s best we aren’t assigned to the same group today. You understand.”
Orange Candy nodded.
“Alright, one thing at a time,” Little Wen Jianyan held out his hand. “Where’s my stuff?”
Orange Candy glanced at Wei Cheng.
Wei Cheng nodded, took out the pitted white tin box, and handed it to Wen Jianyan—they had retrieved it from the hiding spot early in the morning just for this moment.
Little Wen Jianyan hugged the box, opened the lid, and counted carefully. After confirming nothing was missing, he closed the lid with satisfaction:
“Okay.”
He hid the box behind his back and looked seriously at Orange Candy:
“Alright, time to talk business.”
“You aren’t my lackeys, so I wasn’t planning on telling you this originally.”
Little Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes, his light-colored irises shining in the dark.
“After all, no matter what, you are different from the others.”
“Not just you three, but all the newcomers from No. 311 onwards… You don’t look like you belong here.”
“…!”
Wei Cheng and Zhao Ran were both slightly startled.
Although they indeed differed physically from these skeletal orphans, this was inside an instance. Nightmare would automatically rationalize all unreasonable aspects, allowing them to play the roles on their identity cards “flawlessly” in other instances.
Yet the other party could still sense something wrong despite Nightmare’s obfuscation, showing terrifying observational skills.
“But…”
Little Wen Jianyan looked thoughtfully at Orange Candy: “You risked being discovered by Momma to find me last night. That was very unusual… thank you.”
“Plus, I’ve indeed become less agile now, so I need more help…”
He lowered his head, looking somewhat annoyedly at his swollen knees and ankles, muttering softly:
“Damn Momma, really heavy-handed.”
After speaking, Little Wen Jianyan raised his head, took a deep breath, and looked very solemnly at the three people in front of him:
“So… I’ve decided to formally invite you to participate in my earth-shattering plan!”
Orange Candy’s heart stirred: “…Earth-shattering plan?”
“That’s right!” The brat’s eyes sparkled.
Filthy outer clothes, a thin small body, and intersecting old and new wounds on his body couldn’t seem to block the blazing fire in his eyes, nor that freedom, untamed nature, and passion belonging to Pinocchio that they were most familiar with.
“Today… we are going to escape!!”
Ooooooo is the escape what is causing the time loop? And the time loop won’t close until he is successful??????