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Chapter 237 - 234: "Shut Up

Chapter 237: Chapter 234: "Shut Up

Hashimoto Chiha was filled with terror.

...At night, besides the abnormal monsters, the only ones who appear are the doctors preparing to execute the students.

And if a doctor came to her room, it certainly meant he was there to kill her...

Doctor, the doctor is...

Suddenly, she realized.

The doctor was the Number One Player.

She suddenly felt a little less afraid.

Because the other party was too well-known, to the point where everyone in the world knew of him, and naturally, she was no exception, knowing a bit about him.

People fear the unknown.

When facing someone she knew well and could communicate with, her heart wasn’t as fearful.

...It was definitely better than being driven mad by some strange and unusual creatures.

She remembered what the Number One Player had said during the day—he wanted them all to commit suicide.

Many were filled with rage, many scoffed at this, but in her heart, she understood that the Number One Player was right.

They probably really couldn’t last until the last day.

Moreover, if during the daytime phase, the Number One Player hadn’t taken action, their group would have long been dead.

Those women like Flax... they didn’t seem normal, and surely wouldn’t show kindness to them.

What they’d face in the end would most likely be an annihilation, either death or madness, a very tragic end.

Hashimoto Chiha truly didn’t understand those people who, after the Number One Player went to the fifth floor, stayed put and grumbled, cursing the Number One Player.

...If it weren’t for the Number One Player, they would have long been dead.

Not to mention repaying a life-saving grace. It was just a word from the Number One Player, a word advising them to return, to save themselves, a very tangible hard truth—why were those people so angry?

Hashimoto Chiha couldn’t comprehend.

She was from Fusang and should have supported the well-ranked Miss Mizushima Kawa Sora, should have maintained "her own stance" and not lean towards the Number One Player, who stood in opposition to her.

But now, she felt that as an individual in the world’s currents, the differences between humans didn’t seem that important.

Division leads to opposition among people.

She felt the Number One Player was not wrong at all.

Perhaps their early return was also a self-rescue.

She could almost no longer hold on.

If the Number One Player came at night to kill her, to free her, to let her return, to let her no longer hear those eerie sounds, she might even have to thank him.

She made up her mind, sat on the bed holding the blanket, and didn’t intend to resist, just waiting for him to arrive.

...But unexpectedly, after waiting for a long time, she didn’t hear footsteps approaching her door.

Instead, more and more screams, curses, and sounds of fighting came from outside. Through the door, she could hear them clearly.

"You, you actually—"

"Aren’t the rules allowing only one to be killed each night? What is this doctor doing—"

"Everyone unite and kill him! Don’t be too concerned, why should he be able to harm us without reservations!"

"Wait, we, we can’t beat him—who can beat him—"

"Help, help—don’t kill me—"

Separating herself with just a door panel, she heard many such chaotic voices.

She lifted her head from the blanket, tiptoed out of bed, and tried not to make a sound on the floor.

"Creak—"

She took a deep breath, moved step by step to the door, and then, taking a deep breath, put her hand on the door, slowly, very slowly pulling open a small crack.

The door was gently pulled open, revealing a slit of light.

...The reason it was light, rather than the darkness of the hallway,

Was because by this time, the doors on both sides of the hallway had been completely opened.

The lights from the rooms spilled onto the hallway, casting large swathes of warm light.

Sticking to the crack in the door, the first thing she saw was a body that had fallen near her own door, nearly startling her.

The body was that of a male Player, now lying on the ground. A black hole had been opened in his temple, his face pale and blue, his limbs stiff, no longer breathing.

She slowed her breathing, lifted her eyes to look, and saw a shocking scene.

There wasn’t just one similar body.

They started from her own door, along the large patches of warm light, extending to the other end of the hallway.

Like a road paved with corpses.

Blood flowed like rivers.

Standing at the end of the light, she saw the bottomless darkness ahead.

The smell of disinfectants and strong blood were mixed together, making her sneeze involuntarily.

After wiping away the tears in her eyes, she looked up, and suddenly noticed a figure that she had overlooked before, standing under the light in a white coat.

Doctor Su Ming’an was standing quietly by a door.

At his feet lay a Player who hadn’t quite died yet.

That Player seemed very angry, his voice so loud it was clear even here:

"Ha!—Pretty words can’t cover up the fact that you’re attacking the Players!"

"Yes," Doctor Edward’s voice was very soft, "Why would I cover it up?"

"You—the Number One Player, being the Number One Player, you not only failed to lead us, Players who admired you, but you also turned against us, inciting internal strife—you’re not fit to be called the Number One Player!?"

"Lead?" Doctor Edward chuckled.

Through the tiny gap, Hashimoto Chiha restrained her thumping heart and slowed her breathing.

She saw the doctor standing in the light, his eyes brimming with misty pure light, as if he had just woken up.

Blood flowed down his arm, reflecting a beautiful arc under the light.

He stretched out his hand, a scalpel smeared with a streak of fresh blood, its blade shining like a mirror.

She even wondered if that mirror-like blade could reflect her peering eyes, could see her right now.

"If I want to lead, it’s not you bunch I’d bother with." Doctor Edward twirled the scalpel in his hand, "I’m not a kindergarten principal."

"You—" the player lying down said in shock and anger, "you actually dare to say we..."

"You can’t deny it either, kiddo," said the doctor in white. "Otherwise, you wouldn’t be lying here like a dog."

...He must be truly insane.

Hashimoto Chiha didn’t dare to make a sound.

She never thought that such ironic words would come so blatantly from the Number One Player’s mouth.

...He might have really lost his sanity.

She silently fixed her gaze on the doctor in white and activated her skill.

Her skill, [Insight], could reveal some of the opponent’s values, making it a decent exploration skill.

With the activation of the skill, red light focused on the doctor in white. In her vision, three bars appeared above him.

[Health Points: 275/300 (right upper arm laceration, bleeding)]

[Mana Points: 759/2560]

[Rationality Value: 100/100]

[Combat Power Estimate: 1600-1800]

[Odds of Winning: 0.28%]

Hashimoto Chiha was stunned.

Ignoring that absurd mana bar for a moment, that rationality value bar...

She stared at the fluctuating orange bar, feeling as if she had discovered something significant.

...100 points of rationality value, a full score.

A value completely outside of her expectations.

Initially, she thought that his rationality value must be nearly depleted, otherwise, he wouldn’t have turned out like this.

But now it seems, he... wasn’t crazy at all.

On the contrary, he should be quite clear-minded, clear-minded enough that he wouldn’t see any hallucinations.

Why does she feel... that he’s behaving completely abnormally?

"Heh, say I... am like a dog? The smooth-sailing Number One Player, of course, you’re different from the rest of us!"

The player on the ground, with a bloody mouth and looking not long for this world, was still quite eloquently speaking, "—You’ve never experienced the despair of death, nor the agony of failure, Su Ming’an! What do you know? You simply can’t understand us, the players who struggle repeatedly on the line between life and death! Yet you still say we should follow your example, how ludicrous. Without handing over your methods of clearing the game, without sharing your strategies, you hoard them like treasures. How are we supposed to follow your example? Follow your confidence, follow your prophecy-like behavior?!"

The doctor in white didn’t speak.

"Speak up! Go on, talk! Say how you managed to clear all the way to now without a misstep— isn’t it because the organizers are looking out for you?" The player pressed on relentlessly, non-stop, "—Do you think that by doing this, everything you’ve done is for our own good? Ridiculous! You’ve stolen our futures, wiped out our points, do you expect us all to commit suicide in front of you for our own good?! Number One Player, I loathe most your high and mighty demeanor, you simply can’t understand us at all!"

"Ha!" The player laughed again, a bitter and sarcastic laugh, as if determined to say everything before certain death, "What do you understand? Why should I insist on your understanding? I almost forgot, you’re the Organizers’ lap dog, authorized to rule over us. Why should a human being like me want a creature like you to understand our thoughts—only the white creature from the daytime deserves to walk the same path as you!

Do you think everything you’ve done is for our good? Have you genuinely led us? Bullshit! You’ve enjoyed the attention of the whole world, everyone looking up to you, but what about those, those who were forced to sacrifice? You killed them, cut off their futures, and emptied their points, all to pave the way for your grand agenda!

The United Group... all the fools from the United Group have been duped by your Cloning, really thinking your Lighthouse theory could protect everyone—nonsense! Those who are hurt, those who die, it’s not them; they’re happy to sing your praises, after all, you can’t kill them! The ones being killed are us!" He roared, blood streaming down his face, his features distorted like a wild animal: "—We are the ones dying, we are the ones experiencing this pain, it’s us!"

The doctor in white looked down.

The scalpel hovered at his fingertips, the blade exuding a chilling coldness.

Facing the roaring player, enraged to the extreme and on the verge of death, his voice was as light as a feather:

"...Who gave you the right to question my authority here?" he asked.

The player was taken aback, not sure what he was talking about.

"Is it your weakness, your incompetence, or the attitude you take pride in as a human being?" the doctor asked. "Who gave you the self-righteousness and the sense of entitlement that you lie there with? Was it the World Forum, the audience, or did you anoint yourself?"

"—What the hell are you talking about!"

The player truly felt that this Number One Player was not normal.

Not only did he fail to understand the strategy process, but he also couldn’t comprehend what was being said; even now, when he had to face these questions, the Number One Player’s responses were equally puzzling.

...This person, indeed, must possess a mindset that’s not human.

"Do you think that all you’re condemning now represents humanity?" the doctor’s tone was light: "You feel so confident because you’ve questioned me—the questioning of a dying man, how splendid, like a warrior sacrificing himself in battle, a resentful roar at the enemy. So proud you seem, so dignified."

"...?" The player was taken aback.

He had initially resolved to just vent his anger and then die if it came to it. After all, this instance was role-playing, and no one knew who he really was. Insulting the Number One Player to his face, he’d feel like he was winning just by doing so, which would be even more satisfying than berating him in the World Forum.

He didn’t see a problem with attacking other players in this kind of instance; they were all competitors, to begin with, and he was just indulging in some verbal catharsis. Perhaps he could even rally a bunch of mindless viewers to echo him, leaving him content in death.

But this person... why was he praising him now?

"But, are your questions really correct?" the doctor’s words suddenly took a turn: "Will anyone actually take pride in your words?"

The player hesitated, momentarily at a loss for words.

"You have to face your status, the player lying on the ground; you’re just a loser, a sacrificed failure," the doctor articulated, word by word, his sentences clear:

"And when you have failed, no one will mourn you."

"You think you’re representing humanity by condemning me."

"Little do you know that at this very moment, thousands upon thousands, perhaps far more than that, of humans are watching your farce."

"Do you think your angry condemnation can evoke their empathy?"

"It can’t." The doctor shook his head, sighing with regret: "...because you’re just a ’minority.’"

"What, what...? What kind of nonsense are you spouting!" the player was confused.

"Because you belong to the ’minority,’ you can’t evoke their empathy," the doctor said: "Your righteous indignation is meaningless; it’s merely your death rattle. Your words will not be acknowledged by the people."

"You lie there, like a clown."

"And your words of rage will not shake me in the slightest."

"Because you have failed."

"If you think I’m wrong, consider me a lapdog of the organizers, a traitor to humanity, then stand up, like Mizushima Kawa Sora, like Edward, and stop me."

"—I welcome that very much."

"But if you can’t, you can only end up like this..."

While speaking, the scalpel in the doctor’s hand reflected a chilling glint of light.

The next moment, that blade had already pierced the throat of the person on the ground, and blood flowed out freely.

The player’s eyes were wide open, as if he still wanted to say something but could never speak again.

Blood spread throughout the corridor, and the air seemed deathly still.

"...Lie down, shut up."