The Righteous Player(s)

[I am falling into a nightmare, a copy is being generated...]

[Detected that the current copy has a special nature: replay]

[The copy is being regenerated...]

[The difficulty of the dungeon is twisted, and the number of entries is unlimited]

[Current purification rate is 38/350]

[The current total erosion of the team is 8%, the difficulty of the dungeon has increased by 8%, and the probability of nightmare distortion has increased by 8%]

[This dungeon has 6 archive points, each death increases by 2% erosion]

[This copy does not provide the introduction of the plot, but there is a decryption reward]

[Dungeon clearance rewards: the first two tiers-below the Bronze tier (including the Bronze tier), any optional occupation up to 1 to 2; the last four tiers-below the Silver tier (including the Bronze tier), any optional occupation up to 1-4】

[Reward for Decrypting Copy: Unknown]

[Loading complete]

The world in front of Annan was pitch black, and the data stream flowed down quickly.

At this moment, he suddenly felt a strong vomiting sensation in his stomach... This did not seem to be an illusion. At least for Annan, he rarely feels the illusion.

After the data flow faded away completely, a misty and illusory whisper suddenly sounded in his ear:

"Do not look back……"

It was the voice of an old man: "Never look back..."

The voice came from behind Annan, very old and weak, but very clear.

It's as if he's tightly behind him, whispering in his ear.

Before Annan opened his eyes, he opened his panel with a thought.

In the dungeon, only health and erosion can be seen by Annan, but this is enough...

When Annan entered Ben, he heard about the total erosion of the team, which made him a little uneasy.

This is a single player, isn't it...

After Annan opened the panel, two solitary rows of numbers were displayed in front of him:

Health: 56%

Erosion: 8%

...Sure enough, he has died twice unknowingly.

"I really don't have any memory..."

Annan frowned slightly.

It's a bit troublesome. Death cannot inherit memory... This means that mistakes can repeat themselves.

If you are here for another person, you might panic about this cycle of death that you can never escape.

But although Annan felt a little troublesome, he was not afraid in his heart.

If you want to ask why...

It is that he knows himself very well. To describe it with a strange metaphor...like an audience.

His perception of himself is like the audience's perception of a certain character in a movie, movie, or animation. Because he was clear about everything that happened in the past, but he stayed away, so he could know why his feelings existed, and what kind of influence his decision was based on.

Even if there is no inherited memory. But as long as "Annan" is still taking action in the first two weeks, then he has the confidence to decipher the message he left for himself——

Annan opened his eyes.

What appeared before his eyes was a long gallery with brilliant lights. The corridor is wide enough to accommodate ten people walking side by side, without any decoration on either side.

There is a crystal clear chandelier on the ceiling, and the burning candle through the chandelier illuminates the entire corridor. Only at the end of the corridor, the open door was dim.

He looked down at himself, unable to determine his identity from the appearance of his clothes. It can only be roughly determined that this body is a male, in his thirties, with clean hands and no calluses, simple and clean clothes, but the material is quite comfortable. It should be at least without financial pressure.

"Gallery...Is ‘I’ a painter?"

Annan speculated.

There is no hint, no plot is introduced.

"Let me think..."

He muttered in a low voice.

Annan noticed that his abdomen was slowly leaching blood.

In terms of pain, this should have been stabbed with a dagger not long ago. Judging from the position, the possibility of internal organ damage is not ruled out.

"Ah, I'm hurt. I'm bleeding all over the floor."

He said calmly without expression.

And when he looked down at his injuries, he accidentally discovered by observing his shadow that the fire in this room was unusually stable.

There is no disturbing sense of light and shade caused by the faint jitter of the candle when passing through the airflow.

Annan narrowed his eyes slightly, and walked inside without any rush.

He recalled the strategy Louis Padre gave him.

Just in case, Priest Louis wrote a lot over and over again. But Annan can basically summarize it in three sentences:

First, don't look at any painting intently, but don't close your eyes.

Second, all forks in the road, go to the painted side.

Third, no matter what happens, don't look back.

According to Priest Louis, as long as Annan strictly abides by the above strategy, he should be able to leave safely.

...Then the question is coming.

Why did Annan die here twice?

"According to my habit, the first copy of the copy..."

Annan muttered, "I will definitely follow the strategy."

He knew in advance that death in this copy would cause loss of memory, so all his actions during the week must be "standard behaviors" that would provide reference for later self.

The question is... how did he do it the second time?

When did he die both times?

"...It's interesting."

The corner of Annan's mouth rose slightly.

When the crisis came, he clearly felt the joy and excitement from deep in his heart.

He didn't look at any of the paintings, just walked forward slowly.

It's not that he doesn't want to walk fast, but because the wound in his abdomen keeps on him. When Annan wants to walk fast, his health will suddenly decline.

"Is the movement speed limited..."

Annan whispered.

If he designs this level...

He will definitely arrange a chase, which will force the player character to trot and move. Suppress the player by quickly dropping the double fear of health and the crisis behind him.

He narrowed his eyes slightly ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ and walked to the end of the corridor.

Annan controlled the range of his steps and used his steps instead of his eyes to measure the length.

"...Exactly one hundred meters."

After pushing open the door at the end of the corridor, he found an L-shaped corner in front of him. The end of the corner turned to the right.

This short corner is very dark, no lighting is visible, and very narrow, with a width of less than three meters and a short length.

But there was a misty light at the end of the corner, as if to attract Annan to pass here quickly.

Everything is dim here, Annan can only be sure, there are still many picture frames hanging on both sides. Almost every painting is a portrait.

He swept away with the left light, and he was sure that the people on these frames were watching him.

"This time it is twenty meters."

He muttered in a low voice.

When Annan walked through the first corner, he still didn't find anything special. On the other side of the corner, there is a narrow space of less than ten meters. It has a display cabinet for collectibles on the left, and a hanger on the right.

But there is nothing in the display cabinet or on the clothes rack. Everything is empty...like being swept by the player.

And there is a door at the end of this narrow space. The door is red-brown and looks a little shabby, but otherwise there is nothing special.

Annan smiled and opened the door calmly.

Then, he saw the familiar long galleries with brilliant lights.

As if he was back to square one.

"...Ha. Hahahaha!"

But watching this weird and terrifying scene, Annan couldn't help laughing.

After he finished laughing, he walked into the gallery with a smile and closed the door behind him.

"PT...I know this well."

Annan whispered.

The corners of his mouth were raised strangely.