Chapter 517: Werewolf Kill (Extra Chapter)

"A world made purely of information?" Rekton frowned slightly, murmuring softly.

His intuition told him that A Meng was speaking the truth, yet he felt no trace of an information world in this city.

Seems to have seen what Rekton was thinking, A Meng chuckled lightly and explained: "That Saisin composed purely of information has been hidden here by the dolls, lying dormant together with them."

"Can you get in?" Rekton said firmly.

A Meng nodded and said: "Of course, this is simple for me; I just need to create some errors, deceive some rules."

"'Error' is the natural enemy of this information world; its logic is nowhere near as complex and tight as the real world, with loopholes everywhere to exploit."

"Bug is a programmer's lifelong enemy." Rekton couldn't help sighing in his heart; by the time he came to his senses and collected his thoughts, it was already too late.

A Meng's expression dark and inscrutable, he let out a contemptuous laugh, then calmly said:

"Hah, you still know about bugs? What that madman told you? Obviously impossible, so do you have some kind of relation with my father? Is that why you're collaborating with that madman?"

"Right, what is a programmer? Is it a title for those who can create information worlds?"

"Careless." Rekton calmly looked at A Meng, thinking about how to extricate himself.

A Meng suddenly rose from the sofa, clapped his hands, and one after another translucent faces floated up from the surroundings; they varied in size, but all looked exactly like A Meng.

Some parasitized in the dust in the air, some on the bookshelves, some on the walls and floor; all of A Meng's gazes swept toward Rekton in unison, and in the eerie atmosphere, all the A Meng spoke in unison:

"The godforsaken land is sealed off from the outside world; here, even the 'Hidden Sage' cannot help you. How do you intend to shake me off? Rely on the residual divine power of those fellows? Last time you used the mob and the night; this time, who will it be? The noisy sun? Or that old dragon that's always betraying?"

Pausing, the A Meng who appeared first said playfully: "Or perhaps you want to rely on the aid of that 'Fool'?"

Perhaps because he had been in contact with A Meng for a while, Rekton's first reaction now was not panic or a rush to flee, but a mental complaint: "Damn, I've fallen into a pile of A Mengs."

The A Meng standing in the center of the hall said with an unchanged expression: "You don't seem to be in a hurry."

Rekton shrugged, saying indifferently: "Being in a hurry wouldn't help, would it?"

"At this moment, we also have no reason to erupt into conflict."

Pausing, he suddenly said: "How about we play a game?"

"What game?" A Meng asked curiously.

Rekton fell silent for a moment, then organized his words and introduced: "Well, it can be called Werewolf Kill."

"This game requires a certain number of players, each taking on the roles of pauper, hunter, witch, good person, and werewolf—perfect, since you have plenty of copies."

As he spoke, Rekton's gaze swept over the surrounding translucent faces, big and small, and he carefully explained the rules of Werewolf Kill to A Meng.

Finally, he added:

"During the game, your copies cannot communicate with each other in any way other than speech."

A Meng, whose expression gave nothing away, sized up Rekton for a moment; just as Rekton thought he would refuse, he suddenly chuckled and nodded: "Sounds fun, I agree."

"Who among you wants to participate?"

"Me." All the A Meng spoke at once.

A Meng's gaze swept over the surrounding translucent faces, and as expected of his answer, he said: "You decide yourselves by voting."

The surrounding translucent faces, big and small, suddenly fell silent, as if communicating through some secret means.

Witnessing this, Rekton narrowed his eyes, his gaze traveling over the A Meng before him dressed in a black classical robe and wearing a matching pointed soft cap, and he said:

"Now I somewhat believe you are the main body."

"Is that important? As long as I wish, the main body and the copies can swap at any time."

While speaking, A Meng pinched the monocle on his right eye; a pale white light flashed across the lens, and suddenly an ornate round table appeared in the center of the hall, surrounded by eight high-backed chairs scattered about.

Rekton's gaze swept over the suddenly appearing furniture; he took in every detail, recognizing them as products of the Fourth Era Tudok Empire, with the A Meng family's crest even in the middle of the round table, and even the chairs—making it hard not to suspect that A Meng's storeroom contains every kind of object in this world.

A Meng suddenly spoke: "Do you want to go into my storeroom and have a look?"

Rekton waved his hands repeatedly: "No, I don't want to become one of your collectibles."

"Not necessarily as a collectible; you can try to earn it." A Meng said insincerely.

Rekton's mouth twitched: "So what were you really thinking just now?"

"You can guess, or you can try." A Meng chuckled. "Never mind, I'm not interested." Rekton shook his head and refused.

While they chatted, the surrounding A Meng finished voting; eventually, the few with the strongest aura stepped out, their bodies quickly solidifying and their appearances changing—some became ancient nobles of the Fourth Era, some became mail carriers with sling bags, some became sailors; each found a seat around the round table.

Sandwiched among a crowd of A Meng, Rekton continually felt uneasy, as if he were a husky that had slipped into a wolf pack.

Once everyone was seated, he tapped the tabletop twice with his right forefinger, producing a solid knock.

Pinpricks of starlight scattered out, condensing in midair into eight cards, each bearing the images of witch, werewolf, hunter, etc.

"Snap!" The A Meng seated at the head, wearing a black classical robe, suddenly raised his hand and flicked his fingers; Rekton felt he instantly lost control over the cards condensed from starlight hovering in midair.

A Meng's expression unchanged, he lifted his hand and pinched the monocle on his right eye, and a commanding male voice suddenly rang out: "Supernatural abilities are forbidden here!"

With those words, Rekton instantly felt his supernatural abilities diminished by more than half, and the remaining usable ones were greatly weakened; however, the supernatural powers maintaining the illusion and the cards around him were unaffected.

A Meng looked at Rekton with a smile and said:

"Just a few small measures to prevent cheating."

"Don't look at me like that; I'm not the 'Black Emperor'. In most cases I still follow the rules, after all, that's more conducive to fraud and theft, and also more challenging, isn't it?"

Feeling the changes in himself, Rekton spoke with a tone full of doubt:

"This level of 'prohibition' seems ineffective against you."

A Meng showed no anger at being exposed, and spoke calmly:

"It's merely avoidable, not completely without effect; with the vision of a 'Prophet Master', I believe you can tell whether I've cheated."

Rekton let out a light sigh: "So I'm not really keen on playing this game with you; if we don't pull off some high-level moves, you wouldn't be A Meng."

"You really know me; how about we raise the stakes for the game? The loser must fulfill a small demand of the winner, just a small demand."

A Meng placed emphasis on the words "small demand".

Rekton gave a noncommittal smile and said:

"Then you would use your own authority to amplify this 'small demand'?"

However, it's fine; anyway I'm already seated here, so it seems I don't have a chance to refuse.

After his words fell, he leaned back against the chair, relaxed himself as much as possible, cleared his thoughts, and prevented A Meng from stealing too much information from him.

A Meng reached out to take off the monocle from his right eye, tossed it in his hand, and the other A Mengs around also removed their monocles, silently putting them back into their pockets.

This will make me seem more sincere, so let's begin.

As A Meng spoke, his right index finger lightly tapped the tabletop twice; the playing cards that had been quietly floating in midair were scrambled, continually shifting positions as they interwove.

The next moment, the positions of these cards were swapped, instantly appearing before the people seated around the round table, with one card stopping in front of each person.

Lei Ke Dun calmly glanced at the card before him; it depicted a middle-aged man in gray coarse clothing, and beneath the card was a word written in Ancient Franzhak: 'commoner'.

It's hard not to suspect that A Meng was manipulating the drawing of the identity cards behind the scenes; Lei Ke Dun muttered a complaint in his mind, raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and the floating cards before each person instantly shattered into specks of light that dissipated.

Seated at the head, A Meng in a black classical robe turned his head to glance at Lei Ke Dun and said:

"You 'Spy' eyes are quite good; I don't know if you've memorized these identity cards."

"Are you overvaluing me, or undervaluing yourself?"

Lei Ke Dun calmly replied, he expressionlessly raised his gaze and made eye contact with the A Meng seated at the main seat who seemed to be the true body. He really hadn't stolen my thoughts, or perhaps he just hadn't shown it, preparing to deceive me later.

During their conversation, another semi-transparent A Meng floated up from the center of the round table, appearing ghostly and illusory, without substance.

This ghost-like A Meng wore a white clergyman's robe, held a silver cross in both hands, floated in midair, and spoke in a low, heavy voice:

"Prepare."

"Please close your eyes when it gets dark."

The clergyman A Meng floating in the middle of the round table calmly proceeded with the process; as Lei Ke Dun, leaning back in the high-backed chair, instinctively closed his eyes, his right hand unconsciously gripped the armrest tightly.

A Meng's killing probably isn't for real; good thing I prepared several paper effigy substitutes earlier. Why did I brain-fart and play a game with A Meng? I feel like I'm his game. The oppressive presence of the surrounding A Mengs leaves Lei Ke Dun only able to relieve pressure by constantly complaining inwardly.

(End of chapter)