Yuying University
Chapter 503: The first round of broadcasting has ended.
“So, how do I start?”
Suo Suo looked to the only person present with experience in completing the thesis, asking humbly.
Wen Jianyan blinked. “Hmm…”
He wasn’t actually sure of the answer himself. After all, he hadn’t chosen to start on his own last time; the difficulty had been maliciously increased for him.
“Didn’t you get a videotape from the desk earlier? There might be a clue on it,” Wen Jianyan said after a moment’s thought.
Suo Suo had a flash of insight and pulled out the tape.
It was a very old, black cassette, with a faded paper label on the edge bearing the movie’s title in scrawled handwriting.
Suo Suo fumbled with the tape for a while, finally peeling the curled edge of the paper strip back, a little at a time.
Sure enough, on the back of the strip, a line of tiny red text was written.
“Please have the candidate prick their finger and drip blood onto the tape to begin the exam,” Suo Suo read, squinting.
“Can more than one person participate?” Wen Jianyan asked.
Suo Suo: “It doesn’t say.”
Wen Jianyan thought for a moment, then held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Suo Suo handed him the tape.
However, Wen Jianyan didn’t read the small text on the paper. He bit his own finger and held the tip over the tape.
Perhaps due to his body’s transformation, blood was slow to emerge from the wound. Wen Jianyan squeezed his finger hard, and only then did a drop of blackish blood tremble at the tip before falling with a “pat” onto the tape.
Suo Suo’s heart leaped into his throat.
He knew why the other was doing this—it was an experiment.
An experiment to see if someone other than the candidate could enter the exam room.
The blood landed on the tape, but nothing happened.
Wen Jianyan didn’t seem surprised. He licked the blood from his fingertip and handed the tape back to Suo Suo.
“Alright. What I’m about to say next—you need to remember every single word.”
Suo Suo knew Wen Jianyan was about to get to the important part, and his entire body and mind tensed up involuntarily.
He took a deep breath and nodded nervously.
Next, drawing from his own experience, Wen Jianyan gave Suo Suo a simple summary of the potential trials and designed death crises he might face—scenarios that included the dorm, the swimming pool, and the library.
The more Suo Suo listened, the more his heart pounded with fear.
He already knew that the reason Wen Jianyan had dared to choose this movie for him was that he had a lot of information Suo Suo didn’t.
But… wasn’t this a bit too terrifyingly comprehensive?
This was a hypothesis that could only be made by someone who had completely figured out and mastered the entire plot of the movie… no, of all the movies in the entire film appreciation course!
Just how much did this guy know about this instance?
If Wen Jianyan hadn’t ended up not choosing this course, Suo Suo even suspected he might have been able to complete the thesis without even playing the videotape.
In the “Integrity First” live room:
[Holy cow, this is like a top student predicting the exam questions!]
[Hahahahahahahahahaha I have to say, from this angle, this anchor really got his money’s worth from clinging to that thigh.]
[Nightmare really should hire the anchor to design its instances. The results would be absolutely amazing!]
After he finished, Wen Jianyan asked, “Got it?”
Suo Suo mentally reviewed everything the other had said, then cautiously nodded.
Seeing his pale face, Wen Jianyan patted Suo Suo’s shoulder and, with rare kindness, offered some comfort:
“Relax. Generally, the first round isn’t that hard. It’s probably just to familiarize you with the rules. Don’t be too nervous. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
At least, that had been his experience.
Suo Suo: “…Thanks, I guess.”
He closed his eyes, as if psyching himself up. Soon, Suo Suo opened them and, just like Wen Jianyan, bit his finger.
Bright red blood welled from the wound and fell onto the tape, where it was instantly absorbed.
He thought he could hear the faint whirring of the tape turning.
The next second, his vision went black.
When he looked up again, he found his surroundings had silently changed.
He was sitting in a classroom.
All around were bustling students, in a clean and tidy classroom.
Suo Suo’s heart thumped.
He knew this was the start.
Just then, a familiar, smiling voice sounded in his ear: “Ah, so it really is possible.”
Suo Suo turned his head.
Not far away, Wen Jianyan was looking around with an interested expression.
He had actually followed him in…
Suo Suo was a little surprised.
But Wen Jianyan seemed to have anticipated this and didn’t look very surprised at all.
After all, the instance had already implicitly allowed for teaming up during the elective courses. Since they could team up for class, it was naturally possible to team up for the final exam.
What’s more, he hadn’t gone through the registrar to replace this course with another; instead, he had chosen the more unconventional path of enrolling in two courses.
So, strictly speaking, he was still a candidate.
Just in a rather unique situation.
Just then, a familiar, distorted, androgynous voice came from above, echoing in his ears:
“One candidate for this assessment, one auditor.”
“The first round of the film is about to begin. Candidate, please prepare.”
An auditor, huh…
Wen Jianyan looked thoughtful.
He raised his hand and tentatively reached out to the side. His fingers passed straight through a student’s body.
I see.
Wen Jianyan had a sudden realization.
Although he was also a candidate in this course, the movie he had chosen was Thank You, Teacher, not First Love. So, in this assessment, he was an auditor who couldn’t participate in the plot. Only Suo Suo was a proper candidate.
However, precisely because he wasn’t restricted by the candidate’s identity, Wen Jianyan could act more freely.
Under Suo Suo’s nervous gaze, he stood up, scanned the classroom, and quickly locked onto his target.
Then, Wen Jianyan leaned down and patted Suo Suo’s shoulder.
“Look, over there.”
Suo Suo followed Wen Jianyan’s finger.
A boy and a girl sat diagonally in front of them, their backs to them.
“Richard and Wang Ni,” Wen Jianyan whispered in his ear, as if to answer his unspoken question.
Suo Suo’s heart skipped a beat.
—The protagonists of the movie.
“Do you remember what I told you just now?” Wen Jianyan asked.
Suo Suo nodded.
“Good.” Wen Jianyan patted his shoulder. “Remember to follow them. Good luck.”
With that, he stood up again and walked straight out.
Suo Suo was startled. “Hey, wait, where are you going?”
Wen Jianyan waved his hand without answering and left.
Wen Jianyan’s reason for leaving was simple.
First, he already knew the beginning of the plot well enough; the parts that truly puzzled him were in the second half.
Second, he knew that although he was just an auditor now, his presence might actually increase the difficulty for Suo Suo.
This wasn’t just a hunch.
Wen Jianyan knew that the instructor for this course had long disliked him. Since the instructor had been willing to break the rules to kill him before, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t interfere with Suo Suo’s test process just because Wen Jianyan was present.
Wen Jianyan wasn’t that concerned about Suo Suo’s personal safety, but the guy was, after all, the sole candidate keeping this assessment running. If he really died, things would get tricky.
So, as soon as the test began, he tactfully took his leave.
Wen Jianyan decided to take advantage of his “auditor” status.
But before that, there was one more thing he needed to do.
He left the lecture hall, took out his phone, and started typing.
Calculating the time, with the third school year about to end, Su Cheng, Hugo, and the others should be out soon.
And according to the rules, they had to complete their graduation thesis before the end of the day.
Next, Wen Jianyan quickly summarized all the relevant information about the graduation thesis into concise language and sent it to the group chat.
Although they couldn’t see the message yet, once they returned to the instance, they would receive the information and be able to act quickly.
After doing all this, he pocketed his phone and continued walking.
The administration building was not far ahead.
Though the chances were slim, Wen Jianyan still hoped to get into the principal’s office one more time—at least to give him a chance to confirm if the item was still in the drawer.
However, just as he stepped through the main entrance of the administration building, the colors around him receded like a tide.
“?!”
Wen Jianyan was startled.
The ceiling, the floor, the walls… everything faded to white at a visible rate. Their solid forms became thin, chaotic lines.
An intense sense of crisis washed over him.
Wen Jianyan jolted and hurriedly retreated.
He stumbled back a few steps out the door, and soon, everything before him returned to normal.
Wen Jianyan composed himself, cautiously stepped forward, and peered inside through the main door.
Looking from the outside, the first-floor lobby was just as he remembered it. What had just happened seemed like a hallucination, leaving no trace behind.
“…”
Seeing this, Wen Jianyan’s gaze darkened.
It seemed there were limits to where he could go.
He just didn’t know if he couldn’t enter now because the candidate wasn’t with him, or because the plot hadn’t progressed to this point yet.
He had no way of knowing.
Wen Jianyan stood there for a moment, thought, and then turned and left.
—He decided to try a few more places.
The second building Wen Jianyan went to was the cafeteria.
Perhaps because it wasn’t mealtime, there weren’t many people around, just a few scattered students.
Wen Jianyan walked straight past them to the cafeteria entrance.
The inside was empty and pitch-black.
Wen Jianyan didn’t hesitate. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Sure enough, just like last time, as he entered the cafeteria, the surrounding colors began to fade rapidly. Everything turned deathly pale. The once three-dimensional tables, windows, and so on, were visibly flattening into two-dimensional lines.
Having experienced this before, Wen Jianyan wasn’t too scared this time.
Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to something in the distance—
In that flattening two-dimensional space, one area glowed a bright, bloody red.
In the pale world, that color was exceptionally jarring and conspicuous, immediately catching Wen Jianyan’s eye.
“…?”
Wen Jianyan froze.
That was—
Before he could get a good look, the all-consuming whiteness surged towards him.
The familiar sense of crisis hit him like a tsunami.
He couldn’t stay any longer!
A chill ran down Wen Jianyan’s spine, his hair standing on end. He was forced to retreat hastily.
Soon, before he knew it, he was already outside the cafeteria.
Wen Jianyan stood there, panting rapidly, his eyes fixed on the cafeteria door in front of him, still shaken.
He wasn’t sure what he had just seen.
He looked inquisitively in the direction he remembered, but the dark tables and chairs in the cafeteria blocked his view, leaving him without an answer.
He calmed his breathing and looked away.
Although he didn’t know what that thing was, but…
Wen Jianyan’s heart thumped faintly.
He knew he had probably found something truly useful.
And, it was a clue that only he, as an “auditor,” could easily find.
Following behind the two protagonists, Suo Suo gradually pieced together the plot.
A young man and woman, just starting college. Though they hadn’t confessed their feelings, they had already tasted the sweetness of budding love in each other’s gazes.
Paired with bright sunlight and a youthful campus, it really did feel like a romance movie.
—Of course, that’s if you ignored the students who abruptly turned into cold, living corpses the moment they were out of sight.
These living corpses felt no pain, had no emotions, no reason. They only attacked and killed.
If Wen Jianyan hadn’t told him beforehand that the living corpses were afraid of fire, Suo Suo would not have been able to escape the classroom just before being overwhelmed. On his own, he really would have been helpless.
After experiencing this a couple of times, Suo Suo gradually found the pattern.
In this movie, he had to “stick close to the protagonists.”
Once the protagonist left the scene, all the surrounding “people” would turn into cold, eerie living corpses and relentlessly attack him.
But, as long as he stuck close enough, not letting them out of his sight, he was safe.
In a way, it was like a twisted movie…
Only the areas locked in by the camera were safe; everything outside the shot was a land of death.
As a romance movie, the first half of the plot was ordinary and boring.
Suo Suo didn’t care much about it. After all, all his attention was focused on not letting the protagonists out of his sight.
Until…
“By the way, the school’s new gym seems to be officially opening soon,” the young man in front of him said with a smile, his back to him. “There’s even a swimming pool inside.”
The young woman was surprised. “Really?”
“?!”
Catching the keywords, Suo Suo jolted, instantly on high alert.
“Of course, it’s true. What do you say, want to go?”
“But… doesn’t it open in a week?”
“So what? We can sneak in. No one will know.”
Suo Suo held his breath, listening to the conversation between the two in front of him. In just a few words, he already had a faint premonition of what was to come.
Soon, the gym appeared before them.
Looking at the familiar building not far away, Suo Suo’s heart pounded.
He hadn’t forgotten how dangerous the gym in the instance was, but, forced by the rules, Suo Suo could only brace himself and follow the protagonists’ backs into the gym.
The inside of the gym was bright and clean. As far as the eye could see, there wasn’t a single person, only the faint shimmer of water on the walls.
No people meant no living corpses.
Suo Suo involuntarily let out a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, he realized—it seemed to have become a little too quiet.
At some point, the protagonists, who had been laughing and talking, were now completely silent. In the vast gym, only the faint sound of flowing water could be heard.
Suo Suo’s heart tightened. He subconsciously turned his head to look in the direction of the protagonists.
Richard and Wang Ni stood side by side at the edge of the pool, holding hands, their backs to him.
The two of them stood there stiffly, not speaking, not moving.
Without any warning, Suo Suo felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up for no reason. A chill ran through him.
“Click, clack.”
The sound of bones rubbing together rang out.
The two figures with their backs to him slowly turned their heads. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, as if carved from the same mold.
Suo Suo suddenly realized that since the movie started, he had never seen the faces of the two protagonists.
“Clack-clack—”
The grating sound echoed in the vast gymnasium.
The faces that turned towards him were two blank slates.
They had no eyes and no noses, only a smiling mouth on their faces. The blood-red corners of their mouths were pulled high, almost reaching their ears.
They “looked” at Suo Suo and spoke in unison, with identical tones and inflections, asking:
“What is in the pool?”
Suo Suo stood there, his hair on end.
He opened his mouth blankly, at a loss for how to answer.
Perhaps because he didn’t speak, the features of a face began to emerge on those two blank faces.
They both took a step back in unison.
“What will happen in a week?”
They asked again in unison.
Cold sweat trickled down Suo Suo’s temples. He opened his mouth and answered, forcing the words out, “The gym opens…?”
He wasn’t sure if that was the right answer, but based on what he had heard earlier, it should be correct.
…It should be.
But the two figures in front of him took another step back.
This time, there was only one step between them and Suo Suo.
And the features on those two faces had become clearer—Suo Suo recognized that the outlines… seemed to be his own face.
A chill crawled up his spine like insects, making Suo Suo’s teeth chatter.
He knew his answer was wrong again.
If he got it wrong one more time, he would probably never be able to leave this place.
“Which one of us is in the pool?”
The two faces asked.
Under the immense pressure, Suo Suo opened his mouth to answer, but his voice seemed to be stuck in his throat, only able to make croaking sounds.
Suddenly, at that moment, a familiar voice came from behind him.
The voice was clear and calm:
“Push the one on the left in!”
What—?
Suo Suo’s pupils contracted in fear.
Without him noticing, the two white faces that resembled his own had gotten close to him. A pair of pitch-black, empty eyes stared fixedly at Suo Suo, the corners of their mouths pulled high in a grotesque smile.
“Quick!”
That voice was like a clap of thunder, exploding in his ear.
With almost no time to think, and unable to think, Suo Suo gritted his teeth and acted on instinct.
The moment his palm touched the other’s body, a terrifyingly cold sensation instantly washed over him. In an instant, a large chunk of his health and SAN values were bitten off.
Suo Suo couldn’t care about that.
He just pushed with all his might—!
“Splash!”
The sound of falling into water rang out. A high splash erupted from the pool, hitting Suo Suo in the face. He was forced to shut his eyes.
The next second, darkness descended.
Suo Suo felt as if all his senses were paralyzed. He could only hear his own heavy breathing and his heart pounding so fast it felt like it would leap out of his throat.
Time in the darkness seemed to be stretched out. It felt like only a few seconds had passed, yet it also felt like a whole century.
“First round of playback has ended.”
Finally, a cold, distorted voice sounded.
With a “bang,” the lights overhead suddenly lit up, dispelling the darkness.
Suo Suo panted heavily. He raised his eyes blankly, only to find that he had somehow changed locations. The gym around him was gone. He was now sitting in an empty movie theater, on a dark red velvet seat, and not far in front of him was a huge screen.
At this moment, there was no image on the screen, only gray and white static.
“Will you answer?”
As if sensing something, Suo Suo lowered his head, his gaze falling in front of him.
The thesis transcript lay flat before him. Perhaps because he was too nervous, the words on it were slightly shaking.
“No… no.”
Suo Suo heard himself say in a trembling voice.
He didn’t know the answer to any of the questions on the thesis. Answering now would be suicide.
“Begin the second round of playback?”
The voice asked again.
Suo Suo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
With the sound of a film reel turning, the screen in the distance began to flash rapidly.
Soon, amidst a familiar dizziness, Suo Suo’s vision went black. When he opened his eyes, he was in a different place again.
This time, he was back in the classroom.
Suo Suo stood there, his body tense, still not fully recovered.
The warm sunlight from the window couldn’t dispel the chill in his body, and the crowd around him couldn’t give him any sense of security. He was still cold all over, as if he were still in the gym, and those two faces that looked like his were still close by.
“The second round of the film is about to begin. Candidate, please prepare.”
A familiar sound came from his ear.
“Hey.”
A cold hand patted his shoulder.
“!!!” Suo Suo jumped, nearly leaping out of his skin.
“It’s me,” a familiar voice said from behind.
Suo Suo looked, still shaken, and only when he saw Wen Jianyan’s face did he finally let out a slow sigh of relief:
“Thank heavens…”
“Not bad.”
Wen Jianyan rarely praised him.
Suo Suo: “What’s not bad…?”
Wen Jianyan smiled meaningfully. “At least you’re obedient.”
Suo Suo: “…”
After this brief exchange, he finally began to relax.
“By the way, back in the gym just now,” Suo Suo couldn’t help but voice his doubts, “wouldn’t it have been fine to just answer? Why did you tell me to push someone in?”
Wen Jianyan countered, “When you’re in a movie within a instance, what’s the first thing you need to ensure?”
Suo Suo was taken aback, then slowly said, “Ensure… the plot continues to develop.”
“Bingo!”
Wen Jianyan snapped his fingers.
Based on his previous intel, Wang Ni was the one who fell into the water and was invaded by the mirror image. This meant the answer to the two faces’ question must have been Wang Ni. But the problem was… they were already at the third question.
And with each wrong answer, the two faces would take a step forward.
By the time they asked that question, they were already a bit too far from the pool.
That’s why Wen Jianyan’s instruction was not to “answer,” but to “act.”
—They had to ensure the movie’s plot continued to advance.
“I get it.”
Suo Suo had a sudden realization.
“By the way, where are the protagonists?” he asked.
Without Suo Suo having to ask, Wen Jianyan had already located them. He patted Suo Suo’s shoulder and pointed to the seats two rows ahead:
“Right there.”
Suo Suo looked—sure enough, the two familiar figures were sitting three rows in front of him.
“Follow them closely,” Wen Jianyan said, standing up. “If they split up, follow Wang Ni.”
Seeing Wen Jianyan’s familiar action, Suo Suo’s eye twitched. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re…”
Leaving again?
Wen Jianyan grinned.
“I’ll be waiting for you at the cafeteria entrance.”
Suo Suo: “…”
Ahhh, big shot, don’t go, big shot!
He watched Wen Jianyan walk away, on the verge of tears.
No matter how miserable he felt, Suo Suo had to accept reality. He looked away and focused on the two protagonists in the distance.
They seemed to be talking. Being some distance away, Suo Suo could only catch snippets of their conversation.
“…don’t cry… what’s wrong?”
“When I got back… something’s not right, there are two of me… hallucinations… I’m so scared…”
Their conversation was interspersed with panicked sobs.
“It’s acting in my place…”
“No one can replace you—”
“No, that’s not what I mean! You don’t believe me—”
After a heated argument, there was a brief silence.
“No, I don’t not believe you…” This time, the male voice was laced with fear. “I didn’t… but… I think I saw a second me in the water.”
The class ended, and Suo Suo followed closely.
He realized that this time, the safe zone seemed to have shrunk compared to the last.
In the previous round, as long as the protagonists were within his line of sight, the surrounding students wouldn’t turn into living corpses. But this time, that range had shrunk to “within ten meters.”
This added some difficulty to Suo Suo’s movements, but with the experience from last time, it wasn’t too hard to overcome.
He followed the two protagonists closely the whole way, piecing together their snippets of conversation in his mind, and soon, he gradually formed a conjecture.
Suo Suo now roughly understood why Wang Ni had seemed so hysterical in the film appreciation class before, and why Richard had seemed so afraid of water.
It was probably all related to the so-called “second self.”
As the plot progressed, Suo Suo soon arrived at the cafeteria entrance.
Sure enough, Wen Jianyan was waiting for him there.
Seeing him arrive, Wen Jianyan’s eyes lit up, and he waved.
Suo Suo turned his head, cautiously checked the distance between himself and Wang Ni, then jogged over to Wen Jianyan’s side. “Big Shot, what’s up?”
“You should be going into the cafeteria with Wang Ni next.”
Wen Jianyan casually draped his arm over Suo Suo’s shoulder, pulling him close. He pointed through the glass to a spot inside the cafeteria. “Go there, and find something on the ground for me.”
Suo Suo: “What thing?”
Wen Jianyan: “I don’t know.”
His answer was so matter-of-fact that it left Suo Suo speechless.
“Anyway, it’s definitely there,” Wen Jianyan patted his shoulder, his tone earnest. “If I can’t go in with you later, it’ll be up to you.”
Suo Suo: “…Alright.”
He turned his head and looked again in the direction Wen Jianyan had pointed, then suddenly froze.
Wait, that direction? Could it be…?
While Suo Suo was lost in thought, Wang Ni had already approached, her head bowed, looking lost.
Wen Jianyan nudged Suo Suo. “Go on.”
Suo Suo was startled awake. He took a deep breath, nodded, and followed.
After the two went in, Wen Jianyan tried to take a step into the cafeteria—
Still no good.
Just before being consumed by the blankness, Wen Jianyan regretfully pulled his foot back.
It seemed that as an auditor, he was effectively blocked from the movie’s plot by a thin membrane, basically unable to enter these areas.
So, he had to give up and stood outside the cafeteria, watching Suo Suo’s actions.
Everything that happened next was no different from what Wen Jianyan had seen several times before.
Wang Ni vomited in fear, knocked over a table, and fell to the ground.
Suo Suo bent down, crouched where Wen Jianyan had pointed, and began to search.
Wang Ni was startled awake and ran out in a panic.
Suo Suo didn’t manage to follow in time.
Everyone in the cafeteria turned into living corpses and lunged at Suo Suo. Suo Suo had to fight them off with difficulty.
Wen Jianyan watched the battle from outside the glass door, grimacing.
Hiss! So many!
Ahhh, over there—
Holy crap, that was close.
Relying on his previous experience dealing with living corpses, Suo Suo managed to break through the encirclement with difficulty. He glared at Wen Jianyan in the distance and screamed, “Where’s Wang Ni!!!”
“This way, this way!”
Wen Jianyan glanced at the army of living corpses chasing Suo Suo and couldn’t help but feel his scalp tingle. He quickly waved.
Suo Suo, as if his butt was on fire, leaped and bounded over.
The two of them sprinted for their lives with the living corpses in pursuit.
Wen Jianyan shouted, “Did you get the thing?”
“Got it!”
Suo Suo replied with the same hysterical volume.
Wen Jianyan: “What is it!!”
“What could it be!!” Suo Suo held up his hand. In his sweaty fingers, he clutched an envelope that was very familiar to Wen Jianyan. “Isn’t it the thing I found in the cafeteria before!”
Looking at the familiar envelope, Wen Jianyan froze for a second, then quickly found the corresponding memory in his mind.
Previously, when completing the film appreciation course assignment, Suo Suo’s team had obtained some “information” from the cafeteria.
Not an item, not a collectible, but encrypted information that couldn’t be deciphered at the time, but might be useful.
At that time, under the intimidation of Orange Candy’s identity, Suo Suo had voluntarily taken it out and “shared intel” with Wen Jianyan, letting him take a picture of it.
However, the text on it was distorted symbols, completely illegible.
Even though the instance had progressed to this point, Wen Jianyan still hadn’t found a use for this information.
Could it be…
Wen Jianyan: “Let me see!”
Suo Suo gave it his all, speeding up under the pursuit of the living corpses, and handed him the envelope.
Wen Jianyan snatched the envelope.
The familiar envelope, with its yellowed and slightly curled edges.
On the previously blank surface, clear text gradually appeared.
[Recipient: Richard]
Just then, a familiar system sound came from his ear.
—The instance exploration rate had just crept up by 1%.
“…”
Wen Jianyan’s fingers trembled slightly with tension. He quickly tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.
As if to confirm his guess, what appeared in the letter was no longer the same gibberish as the other books in the instance.
It was text.
—Real, legible text that he could read.
I can feel my existence being gradually replaced. The people around me look at me, but their gazes quickly move away, as if I’m not there. I can’t even talk to you anymore, because I often see another me appearing by your side. She smiles at you, and at me too… The more time I spend with someone, the more real she becomes in their eyes.
She wants to hurt you, I know, so I can’t talk to you, and I can’t see you anymore. I can only stay as far away from you as possible. I can only talk to you through this old-fashioned way of writing letters.
I went to the library and found the truth… maybe.
Whatever it is, it’s too terrifying.]
Following this was a large section of blacked-out text. The frantic black lines had almost torn through the paper, making the content underneath completely illegible.
Otherwise, I can’t imagine what might happen next.
I’m so scared. I probably don’t have long to live. It’s watching me at all times. I can feel its gaze, constantly, watching me from every corner.
Something is moving inside my stomach… It’s growing day and night, eating my flesh, drinking my blood, trying to take over my body. Before it breaks out of its cocoon from my body, it won’t leave, and it won’t let me die.
It’s right by my pillow now, watching me. It won’t let me write.
It’s always watching me.]
The writing became increasingly frantic and sloppy. Words were crossed out and quickly rewritten, one layer on top of another, making it almost impossible to read, revealing the writer’s unstable mental state, as if being gradually driven to madness and despair.
Even just looking at these grotesque, even logically chaotic words, was enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
[I can hear voices others can’t hear, I can see things others can’t see. It’s so scary, so scary. If only I could die now, I want to die so badly, I want to die so badly.]
After large patches of water stains, wrinkles, and graffiti, what appeared was handwriting as neat as the beginning, as if the writer had regained clarity and calmed down once more.
The day before yesterday, I put everything I found in the diary you gave me and sent it to you. I hope it reaches you before I die.
If I fail, I hope you can do what I couldn’t.
I love you.]
The last three words were stained with water. The black lines of the text were heavily crossed out and erased. Only through the gaps could one faintly make out the original words.
It was rewritten into two other words:
[Goodbye.]
__
Author’s Note:
The foreshadowing related to the letter is in Chapter 424.
