Chapter 2789: The Feast of Nightmares (Part 8)

Shiler obtained an exemption for the next round, which drew countless gazes of envy, jealousy, and hatred, because the next round was clearly even harder to get through.

When people are under great mental stimulation, they will have symptoms of temporary amnesia. When facing huge pressure, they often cannot concentrate well, at least some people are like this.

And the mental stimulation and pressure they received here clearly exceeded the threshold that humans could accept. More than two hours passed, and they simply couldn't remember what the second dish was.

The pre-meal wine was the first one talked about. At that time, although everyone didn't understand the situation, their energy was relatively high, and quite a few people listened carefully. But this story was too long, and the second half made people sleepy, so not as many people listened to the second story.

And among those who listened, some forgot it completely due to the long time, and others, under pressure, found it difficult to recall it completely. So the overall situation was even worse than the pre-meal wine segment.

The number of deaths in the previous round was 16, and this time, the head chef announced an even more desperate number: he wanted to eliminate 20 people in this round.

Everyone looked at the cold dish served by the waiters. It was Iberian ham with figs, but if they remembered correctly, the head chef said the 10 people who wrote the worst would be made into ingredients. Whose body was this ham from?

No one could answer their question, but the situation they were facing now was that they really couldn't remember much of the background story, so they could only write more from the flavor of the food, praying that padding the word count wouldn't be discovered.

A woman with uneven teeth took the lead in picking up the ham with her hand and stuffing it into her mouth, ignoring the surprised gazes of others. It seemed she wasn't from this social stratum at all and had only mixed in for some unknown reason, so she didn't have so many scruples.

Her actions were like a signal. Others seemed to let out a sigh of relief and also picked up their knives and forks to eat. For a moment, the restaurant fell silent, with only the sound of metal colliding with porcelain.

Shiler didn't eat. He didn't feel safe eating anything here, just as he wouldn't drink water casually. The rules didn't require tasting before writing, so he simply put the ham aside and wrote furiously.

The head chef seemed to want to hint at him with his eyes, but he skipped this part. Shiler, however, acted as if he hadn't seen it. He was like a great writer with a burst of inspiration, writing for a while, looking up to think for a while, revealing a smile or an expression of sadness, and then continuing to write, appearing extremely immersed and engaged.

But in fact, Shiler was taking the opportunity to observe Jeremiah opposite him. Without a doubt, if a second person could survive in this restaurant, it would definitely be Jeremiah. The Valeska brothers were both geniuses. Memorizing the introduction and background story of every dish was no difficult task.

Jeremiah was also looking down and writing something, but due to the angle, Shiler couldn't see his handwriting. Otherwise, he could have judged his educational level from his handwriting. However, judging from the trajectory of his hand movement, his ability to control the pen was okay; he didn't look like someone who hadn't been to school.

Shiler wrote another long passage, and the lady next to him kept winking at him. Seeing that time was running out, the lady looked at him with pleading eyes and said, "God, sir, if you intend to participate in this round, can you give me your exemption? I am willing to pay any price. I am really too scared. I can't remember that much."

Shiler looked up at her, then looked down at what he had written, seemingly weighing whether he could pass this time, but soon he seemed to soften. He called the waiter over and whispered a few words to him.

The waiter walked to the head chef's side, seemingly repeating Shiler's words to him. The head chef frowned and looked over. Shiler shrugged, and the head chef had no choice but to nod.

Shiler turned his head to look at the woman who was crying like a pear blossom in the rain and said, "Alright, madam, you have obtained the exemption. You are safe this round."

As soon as he said this, everyone's gaze focused on the woman. The woman immediately became proud. She smiled at Shiler and said, "Thank you so much, sir. I remember a little bit of the content later, so it will be fine."

She revealed a grateful and apologetic smile, wiped her tears with a handkerchief, and couldn't help but sob. Clearly, she hadn't recovered from the terror.

Therefore, she didn't notice the shadow behind her.

*Pfft! *

A table knife was thrust straight into her chest. A tall man pulled out the knife and stabbed it a few more times with force. Amidst the splashing blood, the woman fell weakly onto the table.

He looked at Shiler with ill intent and said, "Now that the person is dead, the exemption has no meaning. Why not give it to me?"

It seemed like a question, but it was actually a threat. Shiler, however, didn't reveal an expression of fear. He said, "You think you can kill me so the head chef will redistribute the exemption, but in reality, you cannot do that."

"Of course I can."

"You cannot. Do the rest of you have the confidence to remember the specific content of the next five dishes? I am not talented, but I happen to be a historian with a good memory, and I listened carefully to the stories of all the dishes. I might be the only one who knows the correct answer."

Everyone's expression toward the man holding the table knife began to become unfriendly, because as Shiler said, no one had the confidence to remember the stories of the next five dishes completely. If they couldn't remember a story, they might still be able to ask Shiler for help. But if Shiler died, then no one would have the correct answer. Were they going to ask the head chef?

The man also knew he couldn't take action, otherwise, it would arouse public anger. He glared at Shiler and sat back in his seat.

Just then, a young man sitting in the back stood up. He raised his hands and said, "Don't take action against me. I am not trying to run away. I just have some things to say. I can stand, right?"

The head chef looked at him with an unfriendly expression, like a bloodthirsty beast, seemingly wanting to pull out his spine the moment he discovered any untoward behavior.

The young man was clearly also very terrified, but he held on without sitting down until the head chef nodded.

"I thought of a fairer method." He said, "We can let Mr. Nyarlathotep, who remembers the answer, tell us again. Last time we didn't listen carefully because we didn't know there was such a game. This time we listen carefully and decide the winner by memory. How about that?"

He was clearly trying to stand out to save the situation, but an old woman with silver hair sitting in her seat said, "No, this is not fair. You young people have good memories. We have no advantage compared to you. Older people are destined to be eliminated."

All the older people stared at this young man with some resentment, echoing the old woman's words. The degeneration of human brain function is inevitable. No matter what, it can't compare to the memory of young and strong people. If the answer were to be told again, what they remembered would definitely not be as much as the young people. Wouldn't they be destined to be finished?

There were also some people who cast their gaze on Nyarlathotep, seemingly afraid that he would really agree with the young man's statement, because the head chef didn't say it wasn't allowed, but they absolutely wouldn't allow such a possibility.

And Shiler looked at this young man with some regret. He had ideas and was also trying to control the situation and rebuild the rules, but unfortunately, he thought of all this too simply.

Just when the young man wanted to say something else, a strong man with a big beard pounced on him from behind, and the old woman picked up a table fork and thrust it into his neck. Fresh blood gushed out immediately, and the young man twitched on the table a few times before becoming still.

"This is not a way." A middle-aged woman with elegant dress and demeanor said, "Although it is a bottom-elimination system, can everyone really be sure that what they write isn't in the bottom 20?"

The restaurant fell silent. Clearly, no one had this confidence. In a situation where everyone was a black box, some might think they had written enough, but others might have remembered more. Some might feel they wrote poorly, but compared to others, it was already not bad, escaping by luck.

"What do you want to do?" The big-bearded man asked.

"Perhaps we can do this." The woman proposed a plan. "We throw everything everyone has written into a box, and then take turns drawing. The slip of paper drawn is equivalent to what you wrote. After signing your name, you hand it in."

"Then this completely becomes a game of luck." The old woman said, "I don't agree, because I think I can at least make it to the fourth round."

Others also had their own little calculations. They weren't unable to remember anything at all, they just remembered some rounds relatively clearly, while others weren't so good. If it were like this, wouldn't the rounds they remembered relatively clearly benefit others?

"So the order of drawing is not completely random." The woman said, "The first round is already completed, so discussion is meaningless. We treat this as the first round. Including this round, there are six rounds, represented by Arabic numerals 1~6."

"You can sort the 6 numbers 1~6 according to how clearly you remember them. For example, if I remember the fifth dish most clearly, then the fourth and third, then the second and first, and the one I remember least clearly is the sixth, then the order I sort out is 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 6."

"After the statistical results are handed in, the levels with higher numbers go first. For example, if you put the fifth level first, then your priority for 5 is 1. When it comes to the fifth level, everyone with priority 1 draws first, then priority 2, priority 3."

"But this still depends on luck..."

"Yes, this is just slightly fairer, because clearly, now except for Mr. Nyarlathotep, no one has the confidence to remember every level very clearly, so this is fairer instead."

"No, there is still a problem." A baby-faced woman said, "The remaining six dishes are a level-breaking system. If you can't even survive the first dish, the next five levels are completely meaningless. Then everyone will put the most recent level first, so the priority is high, and the probability of surviving is greater."

"But it's not a 100% probability, because you only draw first, but what you can draw is not certain." The woman said, "If you sort according to the order of the levels, then you are destined to have no right to choose in the last few levels."

"Then isn't that still a pure game of luck?"

"I am just solving an obvious contradiction, because if we want to use the drawing method, there will definitely be people who want to draw first. Even if drawing first is meaningless, they believe in their luck more and are unwilling to have no choice at the end."

After saying this, the restaurant fell silent. They were all thinking about the feasibility of this method. ===== CHAPTER 2790 =====