Chapter 2791: The Feast of Nightmares (Part 10)

Accompanied by the flickering light of the red candle, an inexplicable force spread within the restaurant. Jeremiah suddenly looked up; he keenly felt that there was something different about this Dr. Nyarlathotep.

The head chef's eyes also became deep. He could see more things; the soul of the person in front of him was completely different. It was him, but it wasn't him.

Was this his true face? Was it the owner of the head lying on the plate? And what would he do?

In the heavy atmosphere, in the shocked gazes of the crowd, Shiler sat down. His fingers danced, he tied his napkin, picked up the knife and fork, and began to taste the food in front of him.

He ate with elegance, without the slightest feeling of haste, but his speed was very fast. Before anyone else could react, that plate of food was all eaten up.

Then he wiped his mouth lightly with a napkin and rang the service bell with his finger.

*Ding! *

The exact same sound as the elevator echoed in the restaurant.

The first waiter standing by the window walked to him with a polite posture immediately. Shiler spoke in a low and slow voice: "I am not full. Please serve me another portion of food."

The waiter nodded immediately and walked toward the kitchen. Soon, another cold dish was served. Shiler ate the meal at the same speed as before, then rang the service bell again to ask for another portion.

This time it was the second waiter, who walked to Shiler with a posture almost identical to the previous one and asked the same question. Shiler gave the same answer.

Then it was the third portion, the fourth, the fifth.

Shiler's stomach seemed like a bottomless pit. No matter how many dishes were served, they would disappear into his mouth at the fastest speed. Then he would ring the service bell again to ask for another portion. He asked for more than ten portions of dishes in a row, and he didn't show any signs of being full at all.

Although hunger is terrifying, it is also uncomfortable to continue eating after being full. Just like being unable to fake one's hunger, most people also cannot fake that they are already full.

But the extremely high appetite Shiler showed didn't look like it could be faked at all. Everyone could see that not only was he not full, but he was also very hungry.

An old man with silver hair cleared his throat, attracting everyone's attention. He said, "The list for this round has been announced. We have to think about what to do for the next round."

"He wants to kill us all!" A woman screamed. She was still staring at Shiler, wanting to give him a piece of her mind.

The old man revealed an impatient expression, but still said, "If you kill him now, he can't even be counted in the list of eliminated people. This is completely meaningless."

"But he has the answer." Someone else said, "He did such a wrong thing, he should pay the price for it. Make him tell the answer!"

The problem returned to the starting point. If they forced Shiler to tell the answer, it would still be the people with stronger memory who would win. Even if he said one sentence and others remembered one sentence, and everyone's answers were the same, perhaps everyone would be eliminated.

Even if that didn't happen, the head chef could completely pick those whose writing was ugly, whose punctuation was wrong. This was completely meaningless involution. No one had the confidence that what they weren't good at wouldn't become the elimination standard.

This elimination-style game required differences, not correctness. If everyone wrote very poorly, they still had to pick out the 20 worst among the bad. If everyone wrote very well, they still had to pick out those who wrote relatively poorly. In a situation where some people must die, widening the gap with others was the only way to survive.

Letting Shiler announce the answer clearly couldn't create differences, unless he only announced the answer to a part of the people, but this was almost impossible to do because they were all in one space now.

What made this rule even more desperate was that outside the rules, those eliminated were not counted in the quota of the elimination tournament. So even if they killed 20 people before this round started, when time was up, they would still have to die another 20.

Then killing people was meaningless. Not only that, but they also had to preserve the lives of the crowd as much as possible, because the more people there were, the lower the probability of becoming the bottom 20.

At this time, the head chef announced the rules for the third round. This round would eliminate 30 people.

Everyone broke down, because there were only fifty-something people left in the entire restaurant now. The number to be eliminated was no longer a minority, but the majority.

Reaching this step, someone couldn't hold back. He rushed to Shiler's side, reaching out to grab Shiler while saying, "Tell me the answer, you bastard, tell me what that guy said?! What is the story of the soup?!!"

Although others mocked his recklessness in their hearts, they were also a bit curious. Would Shiler say the answer under his coercion? If everyone knew the answer, would the head chef still continue this game?!!

But this man didn't catch Shiler.

He had only rushed halfway when the waiter at the position closest to him walked over, pressed him to the ground, stabbed his chest, and other waiters carried him away.

Others looked at the head chef's gaze overlooking the whole field and knew he didn't want things to develop like this, so they could only obediently extinguish their thoughts, sit back in their seats, and begin to recall the story about the soup.

By the time things reached this stage, the vast majority of people were desperate and exhausted. Some scratched their heads, some had blank eyes. Almost only the crisp sound of Shiler's tableware colliding with the plate remained in the entire restaurant.

Jeremiah had been staring at the burning red candle, but the table was too big. If he didn't leave his seat, he couldn't touch the candle, so he could only stare at it.

Although the head chef was looking at the awkward state of everyone scratching their heads, his gaze also occasionally glanced toward Shiler. Unfortunately, Shiler had been eating, as if the entire outside world had nothing to do with him.

Many people wrote down the story about the soup in low spirits. Those who were slightly confident didn't have any happy expressions either, because clearly, they didn't remember all the next few questions either; it was just a difference between dying early and dying late.

But just in the process of handing in all the papers, an accident happened again. Suddenly, a thin man grabbed the slip of paper in the hands of a woman not far from him like a madman and tore it to pieces, then laughed wildly.

The woman clearly didn't react for a moment. After she realized what she had just encountered, she immediately screamed in breakdown. She picked up a table fork and wanted to kill the man, but the people next to her hugged her tightly.

It was already this moment. Killing the man in this way was meaningless; it would only make them have one less scapegoat.

But the man's actions also reminded everyone present that since they wanted to create differences, they could also solve the problem physically. As long as they destroyed the answers written by others, they would be destined to be eliminated.

It seemed the head chef didn't intend to stop it either. Many people immediately had thoughts. More than half of the answers hadn't been collected yet. If they could protect their own answers and destroy others', perhaps they could successfully get through this level that eliminated more than half of the people.

Someone immediately started taking action. They first put the slips of paper in their hands into the innermost pocket of their clothes, then grabbed table knives and forks and began to attack others.

In this segment, naturally, those young and strong people had the upper hand, while the older ones, who looked physically weaker, were unlucky. Everyone aimed their gaze at them.

In fact, there weren't many physically weak people who could survive until now. Most rich people were well-maintained, so everyone basically looked at age. After all, the aging of the human body is irreversible, and the older one is, the easier one is to bully.

The young people joined forces to catch the elderly first. They didn't kill them, but snatched the slips of paper in their hands. Some more cruel ones simply chopped off their fingers, so they couldn't write anymore, losing any chance of redemption.

But there weren't that many elderly people. After dealing with everyone, there were only a dozen or so people in total. In other words, more than a dozen people still had to be eliminated. Everyone cast their gaze on each other one after another.

At this time, someone stared at Shiler.

Shiler was still eating.

He was like a glutton who was never satisfied. The waiters standing in a row by the window had all taken turns, but he was still enjoying the food, and it was impatient, incomparably hungry.

A tall, strong red-haired man aimed at him. His table was very close to Shiler's, and it looked like Shiler was completely unprepared. The slip of paper was just placed casually by his hand. Shiler had been busy eating and hadn't even looked at it.

So as long as he rushed over and snatched the slip of paper at the fastest speed, he would definitely be able to make Shiler have no answer to hand in. This would completely solve a person who would definitely win in the next few rounds, and he would be able to free up a survival quota for himself.

The red-haired man moved.

He arched his body and rushed toward the table where Shiler was like a cheetah. And just as he hoped, he touched the slip of paper as soon as he stretched out his arm.

At this moment, he was almost ecstatic, because before taking action, he had thought of another possibility.

If he successfully got the slip of paper, he could actually secretly take a look at the content on the slip of paper before destroying it, and then add some to the slip of paper in his hand. In that case, he would have an advantage others didn't have, successfully creating a difference between himself and others, thereby ensuring he could survive in this round of the game.

Thinking of this, the red-haired man couldn't wait to withdraw his hand, but he hadn't stood firm yet. This movement of withdrawing his hand was urgent, and his elbow hit Shiler's arm directly.

A knife and fork needed to be held with two hands. Shiler was hit like this, and the fork in his hand fell directly onto the table.

Just then, the waiter closest to here moved. He came to Shiler's side at a speed that no one could see clearly, almost like teleporting. He picked up the red-haired man's neck like picking up a chick, and with a *snap*, his neck was twisted.

When he took action against Shiler, other people were also paying attention to the situation here. They were actually also interested in the answer in Shiler's hand, but because they were relatively far away, their actions wouldn't be faster than this man, so they gave up.

Once such an abnormality appeared, everyone was angry but didn't dare to speak out against the head chef. Why was this man named Nyarlathotep special? Why didn't the head chef let others kill him?

But most people were angry but didn't dare to speak out. After all, the selection of answers was real-name based. Now if the head chef were angered, he would deliberately let himself be one of the eliminated people later, then one would really have nowhere to cry.

Everyone handed in their answers one after another. The head chef took all the slips of paper and walked to the kitchen, walked out after a while, and it was time to announce the elimination list.

More than a dozen people died again. ===== CHAPTER 2792 =====