Chapter 220: The Town You Can’t Return To

Chapter 220: The Town with No Turning Back

The town’s layout was not complicated. It didn’t take long for the ascetics to gather in the square from various directions along the three main streets, where they saw the town rules.

Constant Luck took out a fragment of a notebook and shared it, puzzled, "It’s strange, was the person who wrote this note in an unclear state of mind?"

"Why does one sentence warn that entering the old district means death, while the next insists that we must go there because it has the only gate?"

A companion with the Ability of Feet of Time came over to look for a while and said with a smile, "Perhaps, this is just a little wordplay."

"What do you mean?"

Feet of Time pointed out, "The note says that [the old district represents death], which doesn’t necessarily mean [entering the old district will definitely lead to death]. These are two entirely different concepts."

"Moreover," he pointed at the wooden sign and continued, "Each rule has specific targets and conditions under which it applies. Some apply to all residents, some to the elderly and those of unknown identity, and others to outsiders..."

"Rules that seem contradictory may apply to different situations."

Constant Luck nodded in realization, "So, the initial warning [not to enter the old district] might mean that ordinary outsiders should not rashly enter, as it could be dangerous? When certain conditions are met, this warning becomes invalid, and the rule we need to follow changes to [we must enter the old district] to find the exit gate..."

"It’s likely so," Feet of Time nodded.

What they needed to do now was to figure out the specific meanings and conditions of each rule and use them correctly to leave the town as soon as possible.

In addition, Feet of Time brought another clue.

His Ability, as its name suggests, allowed him to sense and locate his own footprints in time, and then, when necessary, return to a specific point in time to make different choices.

—In simple terms, it was like the save and load feature in a game.

Relying on his Ability, Feet of Time had escaped countless dire situations, but the fatal injuries he sustained before reloading would still leave marks in the reset timeline, only fading slowly with time.

In one death-defying and time-bending escapade after another, once these lethal marks accumulated to a certain limit, he would become like a tiny flying insect that had lost its ability to fly, ultimately falling into the spider's web.

At this moment, a prominent red mark adorned the neck of Feet of Time.

The crimson line was straight, as if a razor-sharp guillotine had once sliced through his neck, leaving a smooth and neat cross-section.

"Unfortunately, before I learned the town's rules— I turned back."

As he spoke, a relaxed smile still lingered on Feet of Time's face, as if recounting someone else's story.

"In the instant I turned back, my neck snapped so quickly that there was no time to feel pain, only the sensation of something cold approaching and pressing against the exposed trachea on the smooth cross-section of my neck."

"It felt like something was trying to burrow into my body... or perhaps, into my brain."

At this point, Constant Luck couldn't help but tense up, asking anxiously, "And then?"

"And then—"

He drew out the last syllable for a moment, looking at his companion's tense and eager expression, unable to resist laughing. "And then, I reloaded!"

"Do you want me to try a few more times and give you a detailed review?"

"... Screw off, don't really treat the dungeon like a game!"

Constant Luck clenched her fists, but her anger eventually subsided under the calm gaze of their leader, Jason.

She silently moved aside, and as she passed Feet of Time, she took the opportunity to step on his toes, causing a look of suppressed pain to appear on his face.

Jason's eyes flickered, but he did not rebuke aloud.

Fortune and Feet of Time were the youngest members of the Ascetic Order. In their long and monotonous cultivation, such childish antics were their only form of entertainment.

Thus, the other ascetics harbored a kind of almost paternal tolerance for the two.

Jason returned to the main topic: "Has anyone else made any discoveries?"

Someone spoke up: "In the room where we first awakened, I found a photograph of two people. Judging from the scene and attire in the photo, it must have been left behind by outsiders who once entered the town."

"Then, on the way here to regroup..."

The person paused, and his voice was carried away by the wind, like a sigh:

"I saw one of the faces from the photo among the 'residents' on the street. I tested him, and he has no memory of the outside world at all. He sincerely believes that he has always been a resident here."

"In the town, he has a new name, a new family, a new 'home'..."

"He truly became one of the town’s residents."

"Rule 2: The residents of this town are hospitable and warmly welcome the settlement of outsiders, who will eventually become part of the town."

Now, looking back, this rule seemed like the most venomous curse.

The ascetics fell into silence.

Then, they lowered their eyes, clasped their hands together, and recited a passage from the *Holy Canon of Fate* with practiced ease. Their voices, distinct yet harmonious, carried a special sense of sanctity:

"May fate guide the lost travelers on their path home."

"May all wandering, lost souls be granted true rest by fate."

"Fate is the destiny of all beings, and all beings are children of fate."

"May He forever protect His pitiful children..."

As the prayer concluded, the heavy, mist-like atmosphere in the air gradually dissipated.

A Life Domain Ability user hesitated before speaking, "I noticed... there don't seem to be any residents over seventy years old in the town."

"According to the rules, they should all be in the Old District?"

"No, what I mean is, how do the elderly get into the Old District?"

The Life Domain Ability user was shy by nature. Her ability was Spore Evolution, and her entire body was composed of intricate spore threads. Wherever she touched—be it soil, bricks, or even living organisms—dense, invisible spores would fall, ready to rapidly proliferate and grow new bodies and limbs from the ground.

When everyone's attention was drawn to her, her white spores blushed a faint pink as she stammered, "How does the rule define 'elderly'? Is it sixty, seventy, or eighty? Do those who qualify all leave their families and friends voluntarily to enter the Old District, or are they expelled?"

"Also, due to the waning of life force, many elderly might fall ill or even die suddenly—what about those who lose their mobility just before reaching a certain age? How can they enter the Old District alone?"

Spore Evolution was a seasoned player over two hundred years old. Though shy and occasionally flustered, her analysis of the rules was clear and logical, making it easy for her companions to understand her point.

Jason summarized, "Your theory is that there might be someone responsible for escorting the elderly who cannot walk independently into the Old District?"

Previously, he had added to the fifth rule: "Ordinary residents are prohibited from entering the Old District."

This rule applied only to most ordinary residents and did not affect special groups like outsiders.

Could there be a unique role, akin to a 'funeral director,' who could temporarily travel between the New and Old Districts to fulfill this duty?

"I, I think so!"

Spore Evolution nodded vigorously; the leader's affirmation gave her the courage to continue: "Furthermore, I have another hypothesis..."

"Could the seventh incomplete rule be 'The elderly and the deceased should kindly remain in the Old District'?"

As an Ability user of the Life Domain, Spore Evolution's focus differed slightly from that of Jason and the others.

To her, the most obvious distinction between the bustling residents on the streets and the "elderly and ■■" mentioned in the rules was their vitality.

The former were like saplings growing vigorously, full of youthful energy; the latter were withered trees, their branches bare and roots shriveled.

So, could there be a possibility:

That the difference between the New District and the Old District is that the New District belongs to the living, while the Old District is a desolate world for the dead and the dying?

According to Rule Four, "Life and death are essential stages for the town's residents"... Since it's written at the forefront of the rules, it indicates that the concept of life and death is a crucial part of the town's culture.

Could the division between the old and new districts be to separate these two stages?

The ascetics gazed intently at the rules on the wooden board, their minds brimming with thoughts.

Although many parts of the rules were still unclear, some truths had already begun to reveal themselves. They only needed a thread to connect all the scattered information—life and death, the old and new districts, and "do not look back"—to fully unravel the town's secrets.

Constant Luck murmured, "Praise fate... If we're lucky enough to witness an elder entering the Old District, it would be perfect."

As soon as he finished speaking, a series of more frequent footsteps echoed from the distant street.

The ascetics, with their keen hearing, immediately held their breaths, trying to observe this sudden commotion.

"Remember, don't look back!"

Jason whispered, "Don't turn your neck; walk diagonally forward, and it's feasible to gradually adjust your direction."

They adjusted their course and looked around, only to realize that the street behind them had been shrouded in a gray mist, giving off a somber and eerie atmosphere.

In the thickening mist, several figures gradually emerged—clad in solemn black robes, wearing masks with a crying face expression, and sporting white flowers on their chests. They moved slowly and heavily, carrying a long wooden board on their shoulders, on which lay a frail old woman, tears streaming from her eyes.

The old woman was covered with a white cloth, but Spore Evolution could discern at a glance and quietly informed his companion, "She must have had a stroke, paralyzed from the waist down."

"These people..." Constant Luck said in disbelief, "Are they going to abandon this paralyzed old woman in the Old District? And without any food, just a thin wooden board and a white cloth like a shroud?"

What's the difference from murder!

Instantly, Constant Luck felt a pang of guilt: Was the old woman sent to the Old District today because of her "luck"?

At this moment, her luck seemed to have brought misfortune to others...

Jason patted Constant Luck on the shoulder, his calm emerald eyes seeming to see through her inner turmoil.

"It's not your fault," Jason consoled, "It's the sin of the entire town."

Moreover, the residents were no longer considered normal living beings.

The "funeral procession" emerged from the mist, ignoring the outsiders gathered in front of the church, and proceeded directly down a side path leading to the church.

Clearly, their destination was indeed the Old District, confirming Spore Evolution's hypothesis—

Becoming special "undertakers" was a relatively safe way to enter the Old District!

"One, two... six."

Feet of Time counted the numbers: "Six people carrying the board, seven more following the funeral procession... that makes thirteen in total, not a lucky number at all."

However, it was fortunate that the "funeral procession" had a considerable number of members—enough for them to blend in.