But with combined efforts, the players still managed to endure it. After all, it was only the first night. Although the tin soldiers were rampant, their displayed strength wasn't particularly outrageous.
Part of Mu Anqi's problem was resolved by the female player. As for the earlier sentence, the two players, surrounded by the others, looked somewhat uneasy. After a while, they hesitantly spoke: "We didn't really do anything. Weren't we supposed to look for clues? We were just… looking for clues there. In the end, we found nothing, and then that white-paper-faced resident suddenly asked me from behind: 'What are you looking for?' It scared the hell out of me. Fortunately, my ability is boosted in agility, so I dodged quickly. Otherwise, I'd be dead too."
"If we have to mention something unusual… uh, there seemed to be an ink spot on the white paper on that resident's face?"
"Ah, isn't that going dark?" Mu Anqi chimed in. She suddenly remembered what that white-paper resident said last night about how it would be painful to peel off the paper. Among the dead players, could it be that someone actually did such a thing? If an ink spot appeared on the white paper, it would make the resident turn aggressive toward the players…
Could the true body of the white-paper residents actually be that sheet of paper on their faces?
"You may have done something that angered the resident," a player rationally analyzed. "Maybe while looking for clues, you accidentally damaged something important to the white-paper resident."
The two players didn't speak again—clearly, they knew what they had done. Since it was now known that this reaction came from "provoking" the resident, with a bit of reverse reasoning, they could figure out which part they'd gone wrong in.
The players stayed there for a while, and after confirming that there was no other information to share, they left the house. It was already the second day, and they hadn't even seen the Goddess of Beauty, nor did they know where the City Lord's Mansion was. There wasn't the slightest clue about the pass permit either! Although the instance was called "Seven-Day Samsara City," that name only indicated that the instance could last up to seven days—it didn't mean they would automatically clear it by surviving until the seventh day.
Everyone here was a veteran player—saying they weren't anxious was impossible. Since there was nothing left to share, they had to work even harder to search for clues. The white-paper residents, the followers of the beauty goddess, the goddess herself—was the relationship between them really just that of believers and deity?
All the players were anxious.
Except for Mu Anqi.
Why? Though Mu Anqi knew that she had to obtain a pass permit to clear the game, she had only played twice before, and her last game just happened to be "Seven Nights Hotel," so she couldn't help but assume this "Seven-Day Samsara City" would be the same sort of deal.
Seven days—this was only the second day. What's there to be anxious about?
Players cannot see how many games other players have participated in. Therefore, in the eyes of the others, Mu Anqi—who had taken out a high-priced item from the props shop—was already equated with a "hidden expert." Seeing Mu Anqi remain calm and composed, looking confident and in control, the others couldn't help but settle down a bit themselves.
Mu Anqi leisurely wandered around Samsara City and then shifted her attention to the followers of the Goddess of Beauty. These "tin soldiers" wore identical clothing, even had similar builds, and all had white paper stuck to their faces. The residents had said that most of the Goddess's followers were made up of players. But… how could all players have the same physique?
Puppets? Soul imprisonment? Refinement? Dolls? Skin ghosts? These weren't the kinds of questions she could ask the white-paper residents—after all, such questions might be considered "offensive" to the Goddess's believers. If the resident she was staying with ended up turning dark too, that wouldn't be good. She still found the white-paper resident rather cute.
Speaking of the white-paper residents, Mu Anqi recalled the sensation she felt when she touched one last night. What if… both the residents of Samsara City and the followers of the Goddess of Beauty were wearing some sort of "shell"? The white-paper residents moved stiffly and were very accustomed to standing still like statues. Their hands had no warmth at all. If that's the case… what if they were white-paper dolls?
But she could speak. She could cook. She had faith. She had emotions—well, although they were very restrained. But she could eat Guan coins and absorb energy! The white-paper residents should be more like ghosts, or perhaps spirits. They… should have self-awareness. Mu Anqi couldn't quite figure it out.
She looked at the Goddess's followers on their usual patrol. These tin soldiers moved in perfect unison—watching them walk felt like watching a military parade.
"What are you looking at?"
A calm and emotionless voice sounded right next to Mu Anqi's ear, making her heart skip a beat. Clutching her wildly beating heart, she sat down on the ground.
"…Next time you show up and talk to me, can you not be so sudden?" Mu Anqi looked at the white-paper resident holding an apple in both hands, feeling both helpless and amused. She didn't really find Lao White that scary anymore, but the way this fellow always popped up like that—she just couldn't get used to it.
"Okay."
"…Help me up."
"Okay."
The white-paper resident carefully held the apple in one hand, then used the other to pull Mu Anqi up by the arm. "What are you looking at?"
"The Goddess's followers," Mu Anqi said. "I'm wondering why they were able to earn the favor of the Goddess."
"I see." The white-paper resident also turned her face toward the patrolling followers of the Goddess, staring intently. The sheet of white paper on her face moved slowly in sync with the movements of the Goddess's followers. Mu Anqi found it amusing and watched for a while as well, until she heard the white-paper resident mumble, "I don't know."
A thought flashed across Mu Anqi's mind, but she couldn't quite grasp it. Just then, a broadcast sounded: "All travelers, please gather at the rest area. The Goddess has prepared a little game for everyone~"
It's here, it's here—the death game is here! Mu Anqi's expression turned serious. The rest area? That should be the player spawn point, right? "Do you know what kind of game this is?"
"Yes," the white-paper resident said, "but I can't reveal it."
"Alright, then can you come with me to check it out?" Mu Anqi asked.
"I can."
So, Mu Anqi and the white-paper resident headed together to the rest point. At the entrance, the tin soldiers were already lined up in a row. Players were arriving one after another—after all, no one knew what the consequences of being late might be. As for the white-paper residents? The one Mu Anqi brought wasn't the only one—after the broadcast, quite a few white-paper residents also slowly walked over and gathered around, maybe to watch the fun?
Mu Anqi walked into the rest area and looked back, spotting among the group of white-paper residents one who was holding an apple with both hands—only then did she feel at ease.
…White-paper residents are really obedient. Mu Anqi couldn't help but think. She had asked her to hold the apple, and this white-paper resident hadn't let go of it the entire time.
It didn't take long for all 29 players to arrive.
As soon as everyone was present, the leader of the Goddess's followers once again picked up the megaphone: "Dear travelers, next we'll be playing a little game."
"The name of the game is: Honesty and Trust! Everyone will pair up in groups of two and play rock-paper-scissors. You'll play a total of ten rounds!"
"Winners get 3 points, losers get 1 point, ties earn 2 points."
"If any traveler scores more than 20 points, the Goddess will reward them with a small gift."
"Travelers with less than 20 points will also receive the punishment for losers!"
It was a simple game with no real technical challenge. Although it was called Honesty and Trust, the rules didn't say that players who cooperated and both reached 20 points would get rewarded. Instead, it tempted players to win by saying those who scored over 20 points would get a reward.
It was a simple game without any real technical difficulty. Although it was called "Honesty and Trust," it didn't say that players would be rewarded simply for reaching 20 points together—instead, it used the promise of a reward for scoring over 20 points to tempt players into trying to win.
"What's the gift? Is it an item?" a player couldn't help but ask aloud. "And what about the punishment?"
The captain of the Goddess's followers stood perfectly still, not saying a word in response, as if he had turned into a tin soldier statue—only waiting for the players to pair up and start the game.
"But there are 29 of us—one person will be left out," another player said, seeing that the captain wasn't responding and brought up the obvious issue.
Upon hearing this, the tin soldier captain finally picked up the megaphone again and spoke: "Travelers may invite a resident of Samsara City to participate in the game as well. However, residents who play will also be affected by the game's outcome. We wish everyone an enjoyable game."
Upon hearing that, the player who asked the question turned pale. Cooperate with a ghost? And the ghost can also receive rewards if they win—or be punished if they lose?! What kind of ridiculous script was this? Whoever picks one of them is basically asking to die! With how deeply the residents of Samsara City believe in the Goddess, wouldn't they go all out for the chance to win her gift?
The players who had originally intended to ask more questions about the game instantly fell silent and quickly began forming teams. If someone got left out… wouldn't that mean immediate elimination? Could the first round of elimination in this game be a test of the players' speed and social skills?
"Sorry, we've already got an even number over here. You—you can try asking those male players…" The female player who had previously tried to team up with Mu Anqi had already signed up with her friend. Seeing that Mu Anqi wasn't moving, she couldn't help but urge her, "There's still time."
"Well, well, isn't this the big shot? Left out, huh? If you get on your knees and call me 'good big brother' a few times, maybe I'll take pity on you and agree to team up," a player sneered. He was just about to register a team when he heard the woman's words, and turned to Mu Anqi with an arrogant grin. His teammate's expression changed noticeably, shooting Mu Anqi a tense, angry glare.
This guy… seemed to be the one Mu Anqi had once pointed out with her candy cane.
Mu Anqi couldn't be bothered to respond. She wasn't in a rush to find a partner. The moment she realized one player would have to pair up with a resident, she already had a plan. She first thanked the female player, then turned to the tin soldier captain and asked, "Why is this game called 'Honesty and Trust'?"
The Goddess's follower gave no reply.
Mu Anqi pursed her lips and asked again, "Does the Goddess truly admire and like honest residents?"
Those tin-soldier-uniformed followers all turned into "statues," not answering any questions at all.
Mu Anqi turned her head to look at the "landlady" among the observing residents—the one holding an apple. She reached out and pointed. "Miss holding the apple, would you be willing to be my partner?"
"I can," the white-paper resident holding the apple walked over.
"Would you be willing to throw 'paper' in all ten rounds?" Mu Anqi asked. "I'll throw paper every time too."
"I can," said the white-paper resident. [T/N: omg my heart can't take this, I find this apple lady too cute >.<]